[WFRP] The Bloody Crown

[LCP]

The Bloody Crown

In that dread desert, beneath the moon’s pale gaze, dead men walk.

They haunt the shifting dunes of the breathless, windless night, brandishing weapons of bronze in mocking challenge and bitter resentment of the life they no longer possess.

And sometimes, in ghastly dry voices, like the rustling of sun-baked reeds, they whisper the one word they remember from life. The name of the one who cursed them to their existence of more than death but less than life.

They whisper the name, Nagash.

- Ibn Ben Raschid, The Book of the Dead

OOC Thread (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=267741)

Aubentag, 1st Nachexen, The Year of Our Lord Sigmar 2523 I.C.

It was on the track south from the crossroads that they saw the falling star. A hard, glimmering point of light, it slashed across the sky towards the west. Behind it dragged a long tail of faint, greenish flame, rippling like a cavalry standard. It was there for a moment, and then it was gone.

The men on the wagon were a heterogeneous bunch. Until that point, they had shared the ride in silence. It was better to travel in company than alone, especially when it was dark, but that didn't mean you were obliged to talk to your fellow travellers. They might start thinking you were friends. Worse still, someone else might hear - someone waiting further up the road, perhaps, with a cudgel and some like-minded friends of their own. At the passage of the falling star, however, every head turned.

There were five of them, plus the wagon driver. Each for their own reasons, they had found themselves heading south off the main road towards the village of Elmridge. Karl, who owned the wagon, apparently had some goods to pick up in the village, and had no objection to carrying them there with him. He was a small, lean man, with a face like tanned leather and a shapeless brown hat. His cart was pulled by a couple of aged-looking mules, and its sides were hung with battered-looking shields like the bows of a Norse longship. Behind the driver's bench there was a rolled-up blanket and an unmarked barrel of something or other, and a lighted storm lantern swayed from a post on the corner next to Karl, but other than that the cart's contents were limited to its passengers.

They could not have been far from Elmridge when the star passed overhead. On their right, the tall woods from which the village took its name were rising, a low spur of the forest running close enough to the track that the wagon would soon be in the shadow of the trees. The star crossed the woods from east to west, vanishing somewhere beyond the dark hills that rose behind the black wall of elms.

"Well," said Karl, his deadpan voice sounding rather unimpressed. "There's something you don't see every night."

The mules had stopped. Looking up over his shoulder, the wagon driver squinted up at the two moons where they hung in the sky. Morrslieb was particularly bright this night. Shaking his head, he turned his eyes back to the road.

"Walk on," said Karl, clicking his tongue and cracking the reins. Dutifully lowering their heads, the mules pulled the cart trundling forwards once again.

OOC: Welcome to the game! Please make a post introducing your character - their physical appearance, perhaps their reason for being on the cart to Elmridge, any words they might have for the others.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

A thin, relatively young man, perhaps a shade shorter than average had watched the falling star with fascination and at once moved to mark the event in his diary. The scritch-scratch of quill on parchment broke the silence. It was followed seconds later by an oath as the cart started again and the jolt caused the writer to blot his page, obliterating the entry he had just made.

"Not the best of omens," he said in annoyance rather than superstition and mostly to himself, though his voice was plainly audible. His accent was that of the southern Empire most likely Averland or Wissenland and clearly refined, though his dark clothing was of no better quality than the others in the cart. His hair was dark brown and he wore the short goatee beard of a would-be rake. As he looked up his shrewd grey eyes scanned the faces of his fellow passengers wondering what they made of the comet.

Had circumstances been different, he Adelbert Schreiber would have been the toast of Nuln with the Elector Countess herself as patron. Alas circumstances were what they were and the scribe had been forced to desperate measures to make his name in the world of scholarship; desperate measures like traveling to the Border Princes to research a few moldy old ruins in search of the fabled Varagoths, the 13th tribe of the Empire. The Varagoths were supposedly a lost tribe of Sigmar's time that had migrated south out of the Empire (or had been exiled - the sources were maddeningly unclear) despite their chief being the nephew (or cousin - again the sources were vague) of Sigmar himself. Conventional scholarship held that the Varagoths had never existed in the first place and had been invented by the early Emperor Theodahad to give illustrious origins to one of his mistresses who was not so illustrious in reality.

Adelbert disagreed. He was certain that not only had the Varagoths existed they had left evidence and descendants in the people of the Broken Reaches. He'd find that evidence, rewrite established history and gain the acclaim of the finer minds of the Empire that should have been his to begin with.

When he had started this journey he had jealously guarded his notebook in case any of them might steal his ideas and publish them first. Sure several looked the very definition of yokeldom but still... Glancing around he cleared his throat before asking: "Have any of you been to Nuln my friends?"

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

"Nay" said the red-faced man, green eyes subtly darting back and forth, jittered by the bumb in the road. "Though I've heard a little of the place."

The man was shorter than Adelbert, and younger by small margin. He had taken a brief look at the star, but had not held that gaze. His mind was still set on the events in the past days of his life, his escape from his former home, former life, former business. Burglary had payed well for a while, but that was likely over now. What would he do now, with these strangers he'd stumbled upon? What could he do in where they were going? Puzzled, he put his own question, "What're all of you planning on doing when we come to our destination?"

[C.J.Geringer]

a sturdy youngish, 5' 4" Ash Blonde, Blue eyed man, smiles unselfconsciously showing his snaggle teeth.

Says to the scribe who had hired him as a local guide and helper:

Can´t say that I have, do they have a lot of charcoal burners there?

And why a bad omen? I rather like red myself. The star was a pretty color.

Besides I doubt something as grand as the skies would have anything to do with someone as insignificant as myself.

So boss, where to?

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

It has been a long ride, but Sieghard had been content to ride in silence. Memories of that last disastrous battle still filled his head and he had little desire to talk. The fact was his commander had chosen their latest job poorly and they had all paid the price. Sieghard should've considered himself lucky to be alive - very few of the men he had fought beside for the last few years could boast the same - but the battle still haunted him.

"You lot would be wise to keep your voices down. You can never be sure what might overhear you. Greenskins, beasts, or worse. I'm sure any number of things might see this wagon and decide we'd make a good meal."

He didn't believe a word of it of course - if anything was skulking nearby, there would've been some sigh of it by now - but with a bit of luck that would bring an end to the talking.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber


"I meant the ink splash Brand," Adelbert informed the charcoal bearer and was about to elaborate the theory and superstitions of shooting stars as outlined by the ancient Reman philosopher Mendax (and translated into Reikspiel by one Adelbert Schreiber) but looking at his guide's face thought better of it. Out here they might not have heard of Mendax, or Remas for that matter. "I am sure our driver knows the way at any rate."

He stroked his goatee beard uncertainly, wondering how much to reveal of his studies to Wolfgang in case he was a spy from Nuln. A very well disguised spy. After a moment he shrugged. "There are always jobs for men of letters and I believe one of the local princes could find use for mt talents." He was going to speak further when Sieghard delivered his warning.

"Greenskins?" he repeated, suddenly looking a little pale. He shot the mercenary a nervous glance then looked out at the landscape passing by. Maybe it was wiser to keep quiet he thought as he clutched his notebook tightly to his chest like a Sigmarite talisman.

[LCP]

The wagon went over a rock with a jolt, and a deeper shadow passed over its passengers. The first of the tall elms that had crept up to the roadside was shading them from the moonlight. They were cutting through the outermost reach of the forest: up ahead, the road had trees on both sides, undergrowth spilling out over its poorly-kept edges. Karl hitched his lantern a little higher.

Turning a bend around the hollow spike of a dead tree, they came to a sudden halt. About twenty yards ahead, there was another figure on the road. A solitary man was leading a horse by the reins, a lighted torch in his free hand. He turned at the sound of their approach, and looked back at them. He looked to be wearing mail, covered by a tabard with some kind of insignia – in the flickering torchlight, it was difficult to discern. At his belt, Sieghard immediately noticed a sword.

The man noticed them as quickly as they'd noticed him. Turning back, he dropped his torch to the ground, his hand going to the hilt of his sword.

“Hey!” he called out in locally-accented Reikspiel. “Are you the ones who've been following me?”

With his eyes on the wagon, he couldn't see the six horned, bestial shapes that were emerging from the shadows on the right-hand side of the road behind him...

OOC: Initiative
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]

[roll4]

[roll5]

[roll6]

So the order is

Karl
Adelbert
Wolfgang
Sieghard
Stranger
Brand
Beastmen

We are now in combat time. If you want to do anything, please make sure you let me know what it is in terms of combat actions. Remember, you don't need to 'wait your turn' to post your actions for this round.

At a glance, you can see that the nearest beastmen look to be wielding axes, but that's about all you can tell in this light and at this distance. You are twenty yards away from the stranger and his horse; the beastmen are emerging from the woods at the side of the road a few yards behind him. A combat map will follow this evening (JST).

Please roll a Perception check along with your actions.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard calls to the man in the distance

"Get to the cart! Hurry if you want to live!"

He readies his crossbow and fires a shot at the nearest beastial shadow. The light is too low for him to be sure exactly what it is, but the horns are enough to tell him it isn't anything friendly.

Perception test - [roll0]
(Int: 36)

Actions
Ready Crossbow - Free Action (Quick Draw)
Load Crossbow - Half Action (Rapid Reload)
Attack - Half Action

Roll to hit - [roll1]
(BS: 39)

And if I do hit, heres my damage before (before toughness and armor)
Roll for damage - [roll2]

Still new to this, so let me know if I did anything wrong.

[RossN]

"Look out, there are beastmen behind you!" Adelbert cries out. The scribe looks very pale in the light of the moons but reaching into his backpack he pulls forth an old sword and half leaps/half falls out of the cart. Weapon shaking in his hand he moves forward, trying to use the horses as cover from the hideous goat headed creatures.

"Sigmar protect, Sigmar protect me, oh gods don't let me die," the scribe muttered to himself trying to keep his nerves under control.

OOC:

Perception test: [roll0]

If applicable Adelbert has Acute Hearing (+20 to Perception tests involving listening).

Actions:
Draw weapon (Half Action)
Move four squares forward (Half Action)

[C.J.Geringer]

Brand, seeing that the scribe not only has decided to get himself killed but got a head start.

Jumps to the front of the wagon and bellows as loud as he can, trying to scare both the horses and the driver to follow his hastily composed half-baked plan:

"BULL RUSH THE HORSES INTO THE BEASTMEN! IF WE TRY TO RUN THEY WILL JUST GET US"!

OOC

If possible I also draw my axe

[Sodalite]

"And no, we're not following you!" Wolfgang says as he scrambles to pick up the axe he had brought with him, and then to get off the wagon. Once off, he puts his back the side of the wagon opposite the beastmen, and tries to make himself as small as possible.

Perception check: [roll0]
Intelligence is 40.

[LCP]

The man in the middle of the road made to duck as Sieghard's crossbow swung up to aim - it was only when Adelbert's shouting joined the mercenary's that he realised the weapon was not aimed at him.

The crossbow bolt went wide, burying itself instead in the trunk of a tree. Turning to follow its path, the stranger gave vent to a colourful curse as he saw the gruesome band that had been creeping up behind him. Pulling his sword from its scabbard, he backed away, raising the weapon hastily in defence.

Howling sudden war-cries, three of the beastmen came charging after him. The one in the lead swung a clumsy felling axe in both hands, while the other two carried smaller hatchets. They set upon their victim in a wild frenzy of blows, axes swinging. The man knew how to fight, however - he ducked back out of the frenetic whirl of blades, letting them expend their energy against empty air. It bought him a moment of respite, and little more.

Sieghard's shot had got the other beasts' attention. Grunting to each other, they were spreading out to either side of the road, using the trees for cover. One didn't quite reach the treeline on the other side, standing in the middle of the track and shaking its heavy axe at the newcomers as if attempting to scare them away.

Brand's nervous shout was the only reply it got. Putting their heads down, the mules started forwards, throwing Sieghard off-balance for a moment as the wheels jolted back into motion. Already unattended, the stranger's horse whinnied and bolted, racing past the encircling beasts and galloping away down the road.

Karl had produced an alarmingly large crossbow from inside the rolled-up blanket behind the driver's seat, and was in the process of loading it when Brand came scrambling forwards. Almost throwing the weapon down, he grabbed hold of the reins and hauled hard, slewing the cart in a tight quarter-turn as the mules came to a halt. Turning to look at the charcoal-burner from under the wide brim of his hat, he narrowed his eyes.

"You tryin' to wreck my cart?"

Picking up the crossbow again, he looked around for a beastman to sight on.

"You'd best not be tryin' to wreck my cart," he muttered, softly.

Adelbert
Advancing on the fight that had erupted in the middle of the road, Adelbert couldn't help but feel there was something funny about these beastmen. The flickering light of the fallen torch lent them a frightening quality, but their movements were clumsy, their horned heads curiously expressionless. When they cried out, their voices seemed muffled.

One of them raced past the fallen torch, and he noticed something else. These beastmen were wearing boots...

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard swears as his first bolt misses.

"No, DON'T rush the damn beastmen! You'll just get the cart stuck in the trees with them and Sigmar knows what else!"

He readies his next shot.

"Get him to the cart and get it moving once he's in!"

Ok, so round 2 now, right?

Not sure if you want us to keep rolling perception tests until we pass one, but if you do, here's my second attempt.

Perception test - [roll0]
(Int: 36)

And for actions...

Actions
Load Crossbow - Half Action (Rapid Reload)
Attack - Half Action

Roll to hit - [roll1]
(BS: 39)

And again, if I do manage to hit, here's base damage
Roll for damage - [roll2]

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert had been left gaping in surprise as the cart had suddenly swerved leaving him out in the open. He didn't stay gaping for long as sometime caught his attention and the scribe gave a disbelieving laugh.

"Ranald's own luck!" he cried out. "Those are men, not beasts! See they wear boots and masks! We're facing men!"

Filled with a sudden burst of courage that their foes were not the inhumanly strong minions of the Ruinous Powers the scribe charged, swinging his sword wildly in attempt to rescue the stranger.

Adelbert makes a Charge Attack on the 'Beastman' directly ahead of him (the one currently out of combat a couple of squares north east of the stranger.)

Roll to Hit
[roll0]

Adelbert has +10 WS bonus for charging.

Damage (if he hits!)
[roll1]

[C.J.Geringer]

The flustered Barnd draws his hatchet and advances towards the "beastmen"

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

"Men, in boots and masks you say?! Wolfgang exclames upon hearing Adelbert. Charged with a bravery similar but lesser than his, Wolfgang moves towards the nearest masked man he can see, carrying his axe ready to strike.

Half Action: Move towards nearest enemy.
Half Action: Ready axe.

[LCP]

"Ranald's own luck!" he cried out. "Those are men, not beasts! See they wear boots and masks! We're facing men!"

“What? No we ain't!” came a muffled voice in reply. A different voice – just as muffled - called out: “Shut up Hans!”

Squinting through the dark, Sieghard could see by the dying light of the stranger's torch that the scribe was right. These beastmen did wear boots, on the ends of suspiciously plantigrade legs. When they roared and shouted, their mouths didn't seem to move, and what could be seen of their shaggy faces in the flickering firelight could easily have been crude masks. He shot the nearest one in the left shoulder, and the cry of pain he heard sounded satisfyingly human.

Seeing Brand and Wolfgang closing on him from the right of the cart, the injured ambusher turned and fled stumbling into the trees, one hand clutching at the crossbow-fletchings protruding from his shoulder. On the other side of the road, Adelbert exulted as his own wild swing found its mark, cutting a shallow wound into his target's hip. The masked brute cursed and stumbled back, raising his dull axe in a defensive stance – and another one slammed into the scribe from the side, burying a short hatchet in the top of Adelbert's leg.

In the centre of the road, the man who had lost his horse was still fighting, his sword flicking out with impressive speed. His three assailants had him on the back foot, however – circling out of reach, they lunged in as one, two of them occupying the speeding blade while a third dealt him a blow from the side. The short axe sliced a shallow gash in the man's thigh. Nothing fatal, but when it was already three against one, every disadvantage would tell.

Laying his crossbow down as the man Sieghard had shot fled into the woods, Karl the carter calmly took the reins in both hands again, pulling his mules around to straighten out the cart. He clearly had no intention of turning back. Not for the first time, Sieghard noticed the stocky falchion at the wagon-driver's belt and wondered what kind of skills it took to be a successful coachman in these parts.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert's shock that he had successfully wounded the 'beastman' was matched only by his horror as he was wounded in turn. The scribe felt a rush of white hot agony in his leg, which nearly went out from under him then and there. As it was he kept on his feet - just - stumbling to keep his sword level as he desperately looked for his companions.

Who were nowhere near him. He was alone facing two opponents who mind be mortal men but knew what to do with their axes. Adelbert was beginning to feel he had made a very serious mistake.

"Gods help me," he said to himself, swinging his sword.

OOC:

Adelbert makes a Standard Attack on the uninjured 'beastman' who hit him last round (Half Action).

Roll to Hit:
[roll0]

Damage (if he hits!):
[roll1]

He thens assumes a Parrying Stance (Half Action.)

[RossN]

Sorry, messed up the dice there somehow. Here are the rolls again:

OOC:

Adelbert makes a Standard Attack on the uninjured 'beastman' who hit him last round (Half Action).

Roll to Hit:
[roll0]

Damage (if he hits!):
[roll1]

He thens assumes a Parrying Stance (Half Action.)

[TheSummoner]

(Edit: Did you preview your post? That might've been what caused it. If you want to preview, copy the text beforehand and paste it over whats in the textbox after previewing but before submitting)

Sieghard laughs

"The scribe is right, they're nothing more than a pack of bandits dressed like beasts! Run while you can, ya bastards! Do it quick and ya might just live another day!"

He draws his sword and charges.

Sieghard is going to try to intimidate them. He doesn't have the skill, but it's a basic one so he can try it at a penalty. One of them is already running so I figure it's worth trying to make one of the others break.

Intimidate - [roll0]
(S: 41. Half of that because of the penalty = 21

Ok, so all of them are either in melee or really far away so the crossbow won't be as useful. If he's still standing (and hasn't fled. *cross fingers for intimidate*) when my turn comes, I'm charging the one who already took a wound from Adelbert. (Jumping out south of the cart, running east until I have a direct diagonal line and then rushing him). If that one is already down (or running), I'll help the stranger.

Actions
Ready Sword - Free Action (Quick Draw)
Charge Attack - Full Action

Roll to hit - [roll1]
(WS: 31. +10 because Charging = 41)

And if I hit...

Roll for damage - [roll2]

[C.J.Geringer]

Brand charges the "beastman" in the square above Adelbert.

to hit [roll0]

Damage if sucessfull [roll1]

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

Now doubly charged by the masked bandit fleeing, charges at one of the ones who are attacking the stranger, axe held over head, ready to cleave downwards.

Full Action: Charge Attack
Attack roll: [roll0]
WS 41, 51 including charge attack bonus.

If it hits, Damage roll: [roll1]

[LCP]

Wolfgang's blow struck his target in the leg, the man howling out as the axe bit into his thigh. Limping back on his left, he raised his own axe to defend, taking an opportunistic swing at Wolfgang as his attacker got too close. Wolfgang was quick, however, and the axe whistled through empty air.

In the centre of the battle, the stranger held his ground against two of the men still attacking him, although their attention was no longer quite as concentrated on him. The big brute with the two-hander pressed the assault as vigorously as before, but the man on his right held back a little, all too aware of the presence of Sieghard on his flank. Neither of them could penetrate the wounded man's defence.

Sieghard's own charge saw his sword-blade meet an axe-haft raised to block, the mercenary striking chips of wood from his opponent's cruder weapon. He had his enemy on the back foot, that much was clear. Next to him, Adelbert swung wildly out again, miraculously managing to land yet another wounding hit – this time on the man who had attacked him from the side. The bandit cursed and lashed out, Adelbert's smallsword managing to deflect the blow more by chance than by skill.

With a loud cry, Brand came crashing in alongside the scribe, the charcoal-burner swinging his axe madly over his head. Even Adelbert had to duck, but the bandit was just as quick on his feet, darting out of the way of the descending blow. The axe clipped one of the curling goat horns that adorned the man's disguise, and did nothing more than chip off the tip.

Behind them, Karl was calmly tethering his mules to a tree branch at the side of the road. If the carter was planning on joining the melee, he was taking his time...

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Beads of sweat were beginning to run down Adelbert's forehead. That last strike had come far too close and even with help from Sieghard and Brand he had no certainty he'd survive the next few minutes.

Mentally praying on every god he could think of from Taal to Verena he lashed out again at his original foe.

Adelbert makes a Standard Attack on the 'beastman' he originally charged.

Roll to Hit:
[roll0]

Damage (if he hits!):
[roll1]

He thens assumes a Parrying Stance (Half Action.)

[TheSummoner]

Though the bandit managed to block his last swing, it was clear to Sieghard that he had the man outmatched. These were novices. Men who took advantage of the fear and confusion their disguises offered but weren't much threat in a straight fight. The stranger had the look of a man who knew battle... So long as his companions could hold out, these bandits would offer little risk.

Sieghard grabbed the shield from his back and pressed the attack.

Actions]
Ready Shield (Left Hand) - Free Action (Quick Draw)
Swift Attack - Full Action

If the wounded one to Sieghard's north-east is in any state to attack next turn, attack him first. If he's dead, running, stunned, disarmed, or anything that would prevent him from attacking next round, aim for the guy to Sieghard's south-east. Per-attack of course.

First Attack
Roll to Hit - [roll0]
Roll for Damage - [roll1]

Second Attack
Roll to Hit - [roll2]
Roll for Damage - [roll3]

(And again, WS is 31)

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

With his adrenaline rush faltering, Wolfgang swings with axe again, weaker. After the bandits reciprocal swing, he shifts his grip, so as to be able to counter the imminent attack.

Half Action: Standard Attack
Attack Roll: [roll0] with WS 41.
If it hits, and the enemy parry fails, damage roll: [roll1]

Half Action: Enter Parrying Stance.

[C.J.Geringer]

Seeing his forcefull attack miss, Brand adopts a more careful tatic.

He attacks and assumes a parrying stance

To hit
[roll0]

Dmg [roll1]

[LCP]

Brand's axe found its mark, striking the masked man a glancing blow across the ribs. Grunting in pain, the bandit made to hit back. Brand raised his weapon to block – but the blow was a feint, drawing his guard high before striking low at his unprotected belly. A last-minute twist of his torso saved him from disembowelment – instead, all he received was a deep, stinging gash in his side.

The other bandit engaged with Brand and Adelbert was backing up, trying to extricate himself from the reach of Sieghard's flashing sword. He learned to his cost that this hadn't put him out of reach of Adelbert's. The scribe's blade - now noticeably bloody - hacked into his chest, almost knocking him to the ground.

In the centre of the road, things seemed to be going poorly for the attackers. The stranger had gained the upper hand over the two men attacking him, pushing in close to slash at the arms of the man with the double-handed axe. The man roared and stumbled back, blood dripping from two long cuts. Wolfgang's opponent was faring no better, struggling to land a blow on his wiry attacker.

Back by the side of the road, Karl appeared from around the tree behind the two men fighting Adelbert and Brand. The little coachman was quiet as the grave. They barely had time to register his presence before his short blade was flashing out, a short, stabbing blow at kidney-height. Reacting with remarkable speed, the bandit jumped back from the blow: the weapon's point missed him by inches.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert was no warrior (his current performance in the battle notwithstanding) but he was beginning to feel that the tide was turning. Karl had entered the battle now and one of the bandits seemed as if he was about to make a break for it. His sword now slick with blood the scribe made a determined, if still wild attack on the would be retreater.

OOC:


Adelbert makes an All Out Attack on Bandit#4 (Full Action).

Roll to Hit:
[roll0]

Damage (if he hits!):
[roll1]

[C.J.Geringer]

Brand tries to ignore his wounds and remain calm.

Attack and parrying stance.

To hit[roll0]

dmg [roll1]

[TheSummoner]

Seeing one of the bandits back away fuels Sieghard's battle-lust further. He focuses his attention on the man still within reach.

Swift Attack Bandit 3 - Full Action.

Roll to hit 1 - [roll0]
Roll for damage 1 - [roll1]

Roll to hit 2 - [roll2]
Roll for damage 2 - [roll3]

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

Seeing how his previous attack had failed to land, he sacrificed some time to steady his hand, before swinging once again.

Half Action: Aim

Half Action: Standard Attack
Attack roll: [roll0] with WS 41 + 10 for 51.

If it hits and the enemy parry fails, Damage roll: [roll1]

[LCP]

Although the element of surprise had been well and truly lost, the bandits seemed to be holding their ground for now. Only Sieghard's attack gave its target cause for immediate fear, the mercenary's sword flashing alarmingly close to the man's fur-masked face. He managed to block at the last moment, holding his axe-haft like a miniature quarterstaff to catch the hacking blow.

Over by the edge of the trees, the two men facing Brand, Adelbert and the carter clearly felt hard-pressed. One of them lashed out at Adelbert to give the other time to retreat. The bleeding man seized the opportunity, falling back with his back to a tree so that only Karl remained in easy reach.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert felt more tired than he had in his entire life, whatever early exhiliration from battle having long since gone. His thoughts flashed to epic heroes of the ancient Tilean epics he had spent much of his career translating. How would steely eyed Barinius of Luccini have handled this?

On the other hand Barinius hadn't been a scribe Adelbert wearily conceded to himself as he threw all his energy into a thrust.

Adelbert makes an All Out Attack on Bandit#4 (Full Action).

Roll to Hit:
[roll0]

Damage (if he hits!):
[roll1]

[TheSummoner]

"Lucky bastard." Sieghard spits between swings. "Your luck won't last forever."

More swift attack against Bandit 3.

Attack 1
Roll to hit - [roll0]
Roll for damage - [roll1]

Attack 2
Roll to hit - [roll2]
Roll for damage - [roll3]

[TheSummoner]

Spending a fortune point to redo one of those attacks.

Roll to hit - [roll0]
Roll for damage - [roll1]

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

With his attack foiled again, despite his attempts to straighten his aim, Wolfgang goes back to swinging shortly, leaving him ready to block the oncoming attack.

Half Action: Standard Attack
Attack roll: [roll0] for WS 41
If that hits, and the enemy parry fails, Damage roll: [roll1]

Half Action: Enter Parrying Stance.

[C.J.Geringer]

Calmer now, Brand readies his axe, before attacking with his hatchet.

to hit
[roll0]

dmg
[roll1]

enemy parry
[roll2]

[LCP]

Wolfgang's attack caught his enemy off-guard. Hacking sideways at head-height, his short axe ripped into the side of the man's neck. Wolfgang watched in mute surprise as the bandit's head flew from his shoulders, landing with a soft bounce and rolling to a halt in the dry mud of the road. A glugging flow of blood soaking into the rank furs around the man's collar, his body collapsed gracelessly backwards.

The other ambushers stared in horror at the fate of their companion. It was all the distraction the defenders needed. Swinging in close, the stranger hammered the pommel of his sword into the side of the two-handed axeman's skull, nearly smashing the dazed man to his feet. Over by the trees, Adelbert lashed out with a slashing blow of his sword. It was a solid hit this time, and the resistance that mere flesh and sinew offered to the path of the blade was a slight shock to the sheltered scribe. Gripping the hilt of his weapon in both hands, he wrenched it free; what it left behind was his opponent's arm, a bloody ruin from the elbow down.

White with shock, the man crumpled to his knees, clutching at his mangled arm. There was nothing his grip could do to staunch the flow of blood from the wound: in a startlingly short time, the man was dead.

Head twitching from side to side as he took in the three enemies ranged against him, the bandit beside the wounded man hesitated for a moment before making his decision. From beneath his horned mask, he gave a muffled cry. It sounded a lot like “Run!”

The bandits didn't need telling twice. Backing up with weapons raised to deter pursuit, they waited until they were clear of their enemies' reach, then ran for the trees. They left behind their two dead friends, and the man with the two-handed axe, still reeling from the blow the stranger had dealt him.

OOC: The map has been edited into the last OOC post.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Still reeling from being in his first real combat (and winning!), shaken at having slain an opponent and in pain from his own injury Adelbert let the fleeing bandits run. Instead he painfully turned in the direction of the remaining bandit, his sword pointed in the man's direction.

"Surrender bandit." Adelbert called out in Reikspiel. "Your friends are gone, you're hurt and we outnumber you. Drop the axe for Verena's sake!"

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard sees the bandits flee and considers giving chase. The back of a frightened opponent is almost too tempting a target to let pass, but he manages to resist. As Adelbert speaks, he notices the one bandit who was unable to run.

"You're doing it wrong, scribe."

Sieghard grabs and quickly loads his crossbow and points it towards the bandit who hasn't made for the woods.

"Drop your weapon and stay still. One move and I fire."

Then quieter, he says.

"Anyone got some rope?"

Actions
Ready Crossbow - Free action (Quick Draw)
Reload - Half action (Rapid reload)
Delay - Half action

If the bandit does anything other than drop his axe and stay still like a good boy, Sieghard shoots him.

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

Shaking off having just relapsed into a memory of the family slaughterhouse, Wolfgang quietly responds "Yeah, I got some rope," before untying it from his waist and handing it off to Sieghard.

He had just killed a man. A bandit, admittedly, but he had complete decapitated the man with a single swing, despite the fact that the man's neck was otherwise untouched. The fact that the man was wearing goat mask and he had flashed to slaughtering goats while killing him did help with the shock, so Wolfgang just tried to push it out of mind.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"You hold onto it. I need both hands for this thing."

He replies quietly, not taking his eyes off the bandit.

[C.J.Geringer]

Seeing the enemies fleeing brand without even thinking runs and throws his axe at the nearest one

to hit[roll0]

Dmg[roll1]

[LCP]

The axe sailed harmlessly through empty air, bouncing haft-first off a tree and landing with a thud on the forest floor. Picking up the pace, the fleeing bandits sprinted away into the trees.

OOC: The fleeing bandits take Run actions away into the woods. I will assume Brand does not want to pursue them on his own, which means combat is over! No more turn structure.

CJ, correct me if I'm wrong and you want to pursue. Be advised though that they have something of a head start and are headed into the woods.

Surrounded by his enemies, the man the stranger had dazed looked left and right, taking in his situation. Before his eyes could linger too long on Sieghard's crossbow, the tip of the stranger's sword pressed against the underside of his chin.

"You heard the man," said the stranger. "Drop it."

The felling axe thudded to the ground. Slowly, the man raised both hands in the air.

"'m not a bandit," he said, as if thinking this might somehow still work. "'m a beastman."

He looked at the stranger, then at Sieghard, then at Adelbert, watching to see if they were buying it. Noticing that they seemed unimpressed, he waggled his fingers.

"Raaaargh."

Rolling his eyes, the stranger looked away - then, in one swift, brutal motion, brought his knee up hard between the bandit's legs. With a squeaking exhalation, their captive crumpled backwards.

Looking down at the groaning man in disgust, the stranger spat, and wiped the blade of his sword on his sleeve. Sheathing the weapon, he looked round at Sieghard and the others.

"Reckon you lads got here just in time," he said in a gruff voice. "Might have had to get blood all over my nice new mail."

Giving the man on the ground another sharp kick in case he was thinking about getting up, he stooped down and picked up the fallen axe. Throwing it some distance away so it was out of the captive's reach, he turned towards Sieghard.

"My name's Eugen Jager. What's yours?"

OOC: Those of you who are native to the Broken Reaches can take a Common Knowledge (Border Princes) test to recognise this man's name. If you pass, you may open the spoiler below.

SPECIAL SECRETS
You know the name Eugen Jager as one of Duke Alvarr's soldiers. He led the town guard in Alvarran for a time, and earned the nickname "Alvarr's Bulldog".

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

With the bandit disarmed, Sieghard moves behind him and presses the crossbow to his back.

"If you're a beastman then I have no reason not to shoot. Maybe you should think about saying something useful. Are there any other men waiting to attack on the road? Are those other three going to run anywhere we should be concerned about?"

Sieghard glances up at Eugen for a moment before returning his eyes to the captive.

"Sieghard. Anything you want to know from this scum?"

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert rolled his eyes at the bandit insisting he was a 'beastman'. That said his eyes watered in sympathy at that blow to the groin. With a sigh he picked up the weapon of the bandit he had killed (wincing in pain from his wound). He paused a moment at the sight of blood pouring into the earth and shuddered. Battle was not much like it was in the Tilean Epics... or maybe it was and he had just pictured it wrong.

Limping over to join Sieghard he glanced down at the squirming bandit. "A little advice my friend but try and use the thing between your ears before you talk again - and I am not reffering to your mask."

The scribe looked over at Eugen - whose name meant nothing to him - and smiled wearily. "Adelbert Schreiber of Averland. Sorry you lost your horse Herr Jager."

[C.J.Geringer]

Now that the excitement is over Brand goes retrieve his weapon while tying to avoid bringing attention to himself

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

Hm...Eugen Jager. A...soldier? Wolfgang supposed that might explain why he was out here, and why he seemed good with a sword. It's not likely that he's heard of him, so there's no reason not to introduce myself honestly.

"Just Wolfgang. From Jaardorf, not that I would like to do back." He said, bringing the hand he was holding the rope in back to his side.

[LCP]

"Anything you want to know from this scum?"

The man on the ground only moaned.

“Oh, I already know the whole story, I reckon,” said Jager, raising his voice to make sure the captive could hear him. “See, the Duke's been sending men to Elmridge lately. Wants more timber than the villagers are giving him. But all those men,” he continued, “keep going missing.”

He crouched down by the prone man's head.

“Isn't that right, son? Either they run off or the villagers tell us they were 'taken by the forest'.” Reaching down, he placed a hard hand on the man's shoulder and rolled him over to look him straight in the eye. “You and your mates, that what 'taken by the forest' means, eh?”

Face fixed in a scowl, he straightened up.

“Bloody peasants.” He raised his voice into a shout for the benefit of the man on the ground. “Too lazy for your own damn good!”

Looking around at the other, he raised an evaluating eyebrow.

“How would you fellows like to do some work for the Duke?” he asked, bluntly. “There'll be gold in it for you.”

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

"The Duke? You mean Duke Edouard?" Adelbert asked. That title at least rang a few bells; yes now he remembered what the innkeeper in Morrshafen had told him about the local politics on his way south. This territory belonged to a Brettonian noble.

"I, uh, am better with a quill than a sword," Adelbert admiited. "My training is as a scribe. But, um, I would like to hear more of this work." The Averlander looked at Jager uncertainly. He was no mercenary but a few Karls in his purse would be very welcome and perhaps this Border Prince would be willing to offer patronage if he impressed the man.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

At the mention of pay, Sieghard's mood improves considerably. He puts his foot on the bandit's chest to keep him from moving and looks up.

"Funny you should mention it. I've been looking for some new work ever since..."

He goes quiet for a moment.

"...Since a bit of bad luck with my last job. Don't expect me to die for your duke, but so long as you keep the coin coming, I've no problem killing for him.

The rest of this lot though... You might get more out of putting them to work harvesting timber. I'm surprised they even know which end of the sword to hold."

He looks down at the bandit squirming under his boot.

"I don't suppose your duke has any use for him, does he? He's just going to keep robbing travelers if you let him go."

[LCP]

"He's coming with us," said Jager. "His Grace sent me to find out what was picking off his men. Reckon that's done." He looked down at the man sprawled on the road. "Now all that's left is bringing the village into line."

He looked around the group, sizing them up. "You're all men. You're all armed. Follow my lead, look tough, and don't ask questions, and there'll be a crown in it for each of you. Two if it comes to sword-work. I'm going to make this lucky boy an example to his friends in Elmridge."

"You in?"

[C.J.Geringer]

Brand, impressed with the sword skills displayed by Adelbert, whom he previously thought was a simple academic, turns to the scribe and says.

"Well, boss, what do you say? you obviously have more experience with this kind of stuff then you let on"

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard presses his foot down harder on the bandit's chest, not bothering to hide his contempt.

"You hear that? Herr Jager is the only reason I haven't put a bolt through your chest."

He looks up at Jager and mumbles just below hearing.

"Not sure if you should be thanking him or cursing him for that."

He takes the rope from Wolfgang and begins to bind the bandit. Once he's finished he looks at Jager again and nods.

"The Duke's gold shines as well as anyone else's, and I can think of worse men to work for. I'm in, what do you want me to do?"

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

"You'd be surprised Brand." Adelbert commented with perfect truth. His young guide would have been surprised to learn Adelbert had never used anything more deadly than a hurled fist in combat before. Whichever deity had favoured him in the fight - and the scribe strongly suspected divine intervention - victory had not come from experience.

"I, uh, I think we are in also Herr Jager." Truthfully he felt a pang of sympathy for the bandit but the promise of gold and making a good impression with the local authorites outweighed that.

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

"Well, it looks like just about everyone here's taking the deal, I might as well take it, too." He said, shrugging. The whole reason Wolfgang was here was that it was safer than going it alone, and they've certainly proven themselves able to keep some danger at bay.

[LCP]

"Good man," said Jager. He pointed down at the man on the ground. "Tie him up, and sling him on the back of the cart." He paused, thinking for a moment. "The dead men too."

"You payin' for that space?" called Karl, turning round from where he had been seeing to the mules. "I ain't runnin' a mortuary wagon."

Jager's eyes narrowed.

"Were you listening?" he demanded. "This is the Duke's land."

"Duke's land," replied Karl, sounding unconcerned. "My cart."

The soldier and the carter stared at each other for an uncomfortable time. Karl was a lot smaller than the newcomer, but somehow he didn't seem afraid.

"Fine," snapped Jager. Reaching for a bag at his waist, he slapped three silver coins into the man's hand. "There. Now get a move on."

He turned back to the others with an impatient air. "Bodies. Cart. Come on." He looked away down the road. "I want to be in Elmridge before sun-up."

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Grimacing Adelbert limped over to the body of the bandit he'd slain (gods he hoped their was a healer in Elmridge!) For a moment he stood looking down at the felled bandit wondering whether to whisper a few words of prayer to Morr for the fellow. Bandit he might have been and Adelbert had the scar to prove it, but still... he was a man not a beast.

Had been a man anyway. The scribe hesitated a moment, then sighed and silently took hold of the bandit's ankles. Let the bandit argue his own case to the gods - if he'd had more luck and Adelbert less he doubted he'd been treated more respectfully.

"Brand, help me carry this will you?"

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard forces the bandit he had bound to his feet and walks the man to the cart. He takes a moment to check the man for anything valuable - they had been robbing travelers afterall - and then redoes the the rope so the bandit is now bound to the cart.

"You think he wants some company for the trip?"

Sieghard grabs the decapitated bandit's head and tosses it onto the still-living man's lap.

Rolling to see how many bolts I recover. 1 for lost bolt 2 for I get it back.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

Wolfgang stooped down and searched over the headless corpse for anything interesting, before grabbing it by the ankles and dragging it to the back of the wagon.

[LCP]

The two dead ambushers – and the one live one – seemed to be carrying little of value. The dead men each had a heavy hatchet, the kind of axe meant more as a tool than a weapon; the same could be said for the felling axe their captive had been wielding. Goat hides and other scraps of animal fur had been stitched together into ragged vests to create the illusion of a furry hide; each of them also had a horned mask, made from the same materials. Made with the mouth left clear like an executioner's hood, the horns of goats or rams had been stitched into stiff plates at the top of each mask. In the darkness they had been quite convincing.

If these men had really been robbing everyone who passed, they would appear to have been singularly bad at it. Beneath the savage-looking hides, Sieghard couldn't find even a single purse of coins. It was enough to make you weep.

1

Marktag, 2nd Nachexen

The eastern sky was turning a pale, crepuscular grey when the cart finally rattled into Elmridge. Squatting on a low rise in the ground on the border of the forest, the village was still. A few wisps of smoke rising into the calm air from the low chimneys of the peasants' hovels were the only signs of life at this early hour.

To Adelbert, the village looked primitive and poor. The houses crouched low to the ground, sporting only a few narrow windows in their muddy walls. The roofs were coarse thatch, many held down by old rope nets weighted with uncut stones. On the western side of the village, where the trees gave way to the high heaths of the Raven Hills, scrawny-looking sheep stood in silent huddles inside roughly-made paddocks, watching the newcomers with a hundred slot-pupilled eyes. The scribe had not yet calibrated his expectations to the lands of the Border Princes: to Sieghard and the others, the village looked prosperous and safe.

A deep ditch encircled the village. A man standing at the bottom could scarcely have reached the top with arms outstretched, and the bottom was lined with sharp wooden stakes. The road was the single break in the perimeter; in other places, the ditch was bridged by temporary arrangements of logs and planks, quickly removable in the event of an attack.

Nearest the road on the other side of the ditch, a large sawmill sat on their right. It was built from planks, unlike the earth-walled cottages of the villages: it had no need to keep its contents warm. Stacked in a great triangular pile were the stripped trunks of seven or eight trees, sheltered under a lean-to roof. An old donkey slumbered next to them. Neither the lumber nor the donkey looked as if they had been disturbed in some time.

“Right,” said Karl, as they came to a halt in the centre of the village. “Time to get off the cart.” He looked round at Jager in the silence that followed. “No harm meant, friend, but mine's a travellin' trade. It won't do me no good if the people here see me as one of your Duke's men.”

Jager scowled, but didn't contradict the carter. Jumping down, he surveyed his surroundings.

“Gather your things, then, lads,” he said. “And bring our little beastman and his friends.”

When they had all disembarked, Karl clucked his tongue and the mules walked on, leading the cart towards a building a little larger than its neighbours – most likely a tavern. A sign outside showed a crude picture of a great tree with spreading branches. Unlike the inns of the Empire, there was no name written beneath the symbol. Adelbert wondered if anyone in this village could even read.

“You see that house there?” asked Jager, pointing to the hovel in question. It stood on an earthen mound, no more than a few feet higher than the surrounding buildings. Smoke was rising from its chimney, and Adelbert noticed some intricate-looking wood carving around the doorframe. “That's Gant's place. Village elder.” Jager pronounced the words as someone else might say “dung collector”. “We're paying him a visit.”

He set off towards the building with a determined look on his face. “Bring the idiot in with us. Leave the dead men at the door.”

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard does as he is bid, guiding thesurviving "beastman" towards the building. He keeps one hand on the rope binding the man's arms and another on his dagger, ready incase the man tries anything foolish.

[C.J.Geringer]

Brand follows helping to carry the bodies and looking around trying to memorize the shortest escape routes in case of problem.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert cast a longing glance at the tavern, which poor quality though it looked at least offered the hope of rest and healing. The scribe then gritted his teeth and set about carrying the dead men to door, relieved no one was around to witness this. Carrying dead bodies around was not going to be the best impression to make on the locals.

He had to run back to retrieve his belongings before Karl rode off with him, though even the sheltered scribe wondered if any of the locals would have much use for an illuminated book for anything other than firewood.

[LCP]

Waiting at the doorway until Karl and his cart were out of sight, Jager appeared to be listening intently for sounds of movement from inside. There were none. Seeing the others ready and waiting, he took a step back, then threw his shoulder hard against the door.

With a splintering crack, the door flew open. From somewhere inside there came an alarmed cry, but Jager was already striding over the threshold, one leather-gloved hand on the hilt of his sword.

The inside of the hovel was richer than the exterior had led Adelbert to expect. Furs and hides had been piled up in front of the stone hearth, where the cooling remains of a fire were still smouldering. The scraps of a sizeable meal had been left out on a handsomely-carved table.

There was another room to the right of this one, separated by a wooden partition wall. Appearing suddenly in the doorway between the two, an old man in a hairy nightshirt blinked in alarm at the intruders. He had an improvised cudgel in his hand, but he was not ready for six armed men on his doorstep.

“Sleeping in?” barked Jager, closing the distance between them and seizing the old man before he could react. “And here I thought you were expecting me.”

Gant tried to splutter a reply, but Jager pushed him away, throwing him down onto the floor. Advancing on his victim, he stopped as he heard soft footsteps come to a sudden halt behind him – looking round, he saw a young, mousy-haired woman standing in the doorway from which Gant had emerged. Wrapped in a blanket, she stared at Jager and the others in wide-eyed terror.

Staring back for an unapologetic few seconds, Jager finally looked back at Gant. “Dirty old eel,” he said, in tones of heavy contempt. “Get your clothes back on, girl. Look quick about it.”

Barely squeaking a reply, the girl vanished back behind the wall.

“Six men, waiting on the road,” said Jager, turning back to Gant. He had stopped shouting. “Dressed up like beasts. Did you really think that would work?”

Gant cleared his throat, composing his wrinkled face as he looked up at Jager. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he said, clearly.

“Really,” said Jager. “So this lad here, he's not one of yours, then?”

He stepped aside, motioning for the others to bring their captive forward. Gant looked at the man for a good few seconds, and the two of them seemed to exchange glances. Slowly picking himself up off the ground, the village elder dusted off his nightshirt and said, slowly, to Jager:

“I've never seen this man before in my life.”

Jager's lip curled.

“You're a bad liar, Gant. We'll see how stubborn the rest of your villagers are when they see the two we've got outside.” He paused, watching the old man's face. “The duke sent two men out before me. Is this what you did to them?”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“Course you bloody do. Einholtz and de la Poeur. The duke's overseers.”

Gant took a long breath to calm himself.

“Einholtz was taken by the forest. De la Poeur ran away. He saw something, in the woods.” The old man repeated the words in a solemn, rhythmic fashion, a mantra he had learned by heart.

“Your lads, was it? Dressed up in ram-horns and antlers?”

Still watching the old man's face, Jager pulled one of the chairs out from the elm-wood table, dragging its legs across the earth floor. Sitting down backwards, he folded his arms over its back, looking Gant straight in the eye.

“The game's done, old man. No sense playing dumb any more. You killed Einholtz. You scared de la Poeur out of his wits. Reckon you meant to kill me too, if the sight of a few beast-horns wasn't enough to frighten me off.” A pause. “The duke's men wanted to make you do an honest day's work, so you got rid of 'em.”

There was a long silence.

“They wanted us to cut down half the forest.”

“Aye. The duke wants timber.”

“The forest doesn't belong to the duke.”

Jager raised one eyebrow so far it seemed it might twist right off his face. “Well,” he said. “There's an interesting opinion. I reckon I know a couple of hundred men with swords who disagree with you there.” He glared at the old man. “You want to test them?”

“The duke is a merciful man.”

“Aye. That he is. He gives everyone one chance.” Pushing the chair back, Jager stood up again. “You've had two.”

The girl had reappeared in the doorway, hastily and haphazardly dressed. Jager threw a glance her way before continuing.

“One more time, Gant. Where'd you bury Einholtz?”

Gant remained stubbornly silent. There was a staring match of ten seconds or so, then Jager turned away with a snarl of frustration.

“You lot,” he barked, gesturing to Sieghard and the group. “Search the house. I want this place turned upside down.” He turned to the girl. “You, go rouse the rest of this sorry village. I want the lot of them, outside.” He raised his voice to a shout once again. “Go!”

With one more startled squeak, the peasant girl scurried out of the front door.

"One of you had best keep watch over those bodies outside," added Jager as an afterthought. "The rest of you, get to it."

OOC: Because this is an interaction between two NPCs, I post it in one big block. If there are points where you want to contribute or interrupt, however, don't feel constrained to waiting to the end. Quote boxes are very useful for responding to specific parts of the conversation; if you want to say or do something that will completely change the course of what is said and done, I will edit appropriately.

Search is a Basic skill, so anyone who doesn't have it trained may still test against half their Intelligence stat. Gant's home is not a big place and does not have many hiding places, so the test receives a +30 circumstance bonus.

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

Wolfgang searched in mostly high places, rather like he was picking for valuables like he would if he was burgling rather than really trying to find everything, not that it mattered, since he was stilled jarred enough from all the recent experiences to notice anything important.

[C.J.Geringer]

I have perception. and int 36

[roll0]

[C.J.Geringer]

Brand meticulously searches every nook and cranny he can, to make sure he won´t miss anything, and to give him time to think, it seems the re willo be some umpleasantness ahead and the thought makes him a little queasy, he is after all, just a charcoal burner.

"the question whom does the forest belongs to?" foremost at his mind, images of elfs, fairies and hostile forest monster springing into his mind from old childhood stories.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard


“Really,” said Jager. “So this lad here, he's not one of yours, then?”

He stepped aside, motioning for the others to bring their captive forward.

At that, Sieghard shoves the bandit forward, nearly throwing the man into Gant.


"One of you had best keep watch over those bodies outside," added Jager as an afterthought. "The rest of you, get to it."

Sieghard nods and steps outside. Guarding two corpses in the early stages of rot wouldn't have been his first choice, but for a gold crown, it would be well worth dealing with the flies and the smell. He didn't expect any trouble, but he readied and loaded his crossbow all the same.

Everyone else gets to search the home and do their search tests... Just to not be left out, I'll do a pereption test to see if there's anything out of the ordinary in the village or if any of the being roused look like they feel like doing something foolish.

Perception Test: [roll0]
(Int is 36)

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

The scribe looked pale, clearly realising exactly what sort of situation he was in. He took a deep breath and was about to annouce he'd step outside when Sieghard beat him to it. Biting his tongue Adelbert started searching the place.

OOC:
Basic Search
[roll0]

[LCP]

Gant sat down in one of the chairs, enduring the indignity of the search with a kind of aged stoicism as Jager's new henchmen turned his house upside-down. The old peasant had a very well-stocked larder, but if Jager was looking for some incriminating clue it seemed he would be disappointed.

Outside, Sieghard watched as other villagers began to poke their heads out of doors, like tortoises waking from hibernation. The girl Jager had made his messenger ran from hovel to hovel, and soon a small crowd had gathered at the foot of the mound on which Gant's house was built. The sight of Sieghard standing there with his crossbow stopped them from coming too close to get a look at the slumped shapes behind him.

After a while, Jager seemed to tire of the searching. Grabbing hold of their bound captive, he motioned to the others to seize Gant.

“Take him outside and line him up with this one,” he said. “Then I want the five of you standing behind me, with your weapons where they can see them. Try to look tough.” He paused, looking at Adelbert. “'Course, Mr Scribe here's got that worked out already!”

For a moment, Adelbert wondered if Jager was being sarcastic. Then he realised, of course, that his clothes and skin were still quite heavily stained with blood.

1

Elsabeth Holt opened her eyes, and tried to sit up. Her back felt like one big knot. In Elmridge, they made everything out of wood – even, apparently, the bedding.

She could hear some voices talking in the main hall of the tavern. It was difficult to make out what they were saying: the landlord of the Wych Elm had put her in the “guest room”, as he insisted on calling it. It was a room, and it had a bed, that much was true. Elsa had her suspicions, though, that most of the time it was put to other uses. There were subtle clues. The way it opened onto the back yard, the lingering mustiness and the farmyard smell. The empty feed-trough in the corner. The way the goats kept trying to get back in.

The voices receded, and she heard the front door open and close. She had gone to sleep in her clothes, the 'guest room' far too draughty for anything else. Pulling on her boots, she made her way over to the back door, letting herself out into the cool morning air. A black billy-goat was waiting for her, and made a determined effort to rush inside for brief the moment the door was open. Elsa slammed it quickly to stop the animal getting in.

The voices were gathering somewhere in the centre of the village. Following the sounds of people, she found her way to the back of the crowd. In front of a raised cottage, eight men were facing the assembled villagers. Six of them were armed, and two of them – one the old villager she had heard called “Gant” - looked less than happy to be in the others' company.

At their feet, what looked like two dead bodies lay sprawled...

1

Hooking his thumbs into his belt, Jager surveyed the crowd like a shepherd surveying his flock. He waited a long time before he said anything.

“Good morning!” he said, with a voice like a drawn sword. “My name's Eugen Jager. Some of you might have heard of me.”

The odd murmur from the crowd suggested that some of them might have well.

“You all know this man!” he continued, raising his voice. He gestured to Gant. “And I think you all know this man too.”

He motioned to Sieghard to shove the captured ambusher forwards. Eyes narrowing, Jager searched the faces of the crowd.

“I suppose the question I really need to ask,” he said, stooping down, “is do you know this man?”

Straightening back up, he raised the head of the man Wolfgang had decapitated so the crowd could see its face. The villagers recoiled – from somewhere at the back, a woman gave a shocked, strangled gasp.

Still holding up the head, Jager cast a triumphant glance at Gant. Gant looked down at the ground in front of his feet, refusing to meet the soldier's eyes.

“These three men,” he called out, setting the head down and pointing first to the bodies, then to their captive, “had three friends. And those six men thought they would attack me on the road to your village. Now your friend Gant, the venerable Gant here - “ - he gestured towards Gant - “ - wants me to believe that you people had nothing to do with that.” He swung his gaze left and right, lording over the crowd. “But one look at your lily-white faces tells me you are all guilty as a fat boy in a pie shop.”

“The duke sent you two good men! I know what you did to them.” He pushed Gant forward. “I know what this man convinced you to do to them.” His eyes swept the crowd once more. “Now the duke has sent me. I am not a good man.”

He raised his voice a little louder, carrying further.

“It's been a hard winter! For every man here, there's three men in Alvarran who'd kill for a roof over their heads and some decent grub. Men who'll work when they're told to. Men who'll follow orders.” He left a pause after the point. “The duke wants timber, and he wants it in Alvarran yesterday. If you can't deliver, he'll replace you with men who can. Men who'll follow their lord's commands.”

Just as the angry oratory was reaching a crescendo, a tall man in the crowd called out.

“They ain't bowyers!”

“WHO SAID THAT?” roared Jager. A sudden silence fell. After an awkward pause, the tall man stepped forwards.

“I did.”

“What's your name?”

“Flitch.”

Jager stared at Flitch, and Flitch stared at Jager.

“Mister Flitch is right,” said Jager, at last. “The men in Alvarran don't know how to make bows like you do.”
A swell of muttering ran through the crowd.
“They don't know how to make tables and chairs and little fancy carvings like you do.”
The muttering continued.
“In fact,” said Jager, raising his voice again, “they don't know how to make anything like you do! All they know is how to swing an axe.” He paced forwards, suddenly in Flitch's face. “Thing is, Mister Flitch, the duke's got enough bows. I know, 'cos I counted them. And if you people think you can defy him,” he continued, “some of those bows you made might come marching back home to Elmridge!”

“The duke wants timber. He doesn't want bows, or lutes, or little wooden dolls. He wants those trees cut down and taken to Alvarran.” Striding back up the slope, he stood in front of the bodies again. “You all know the duke's a merciful man. He gives everyone one chance.” Drawing breath, he calmed his expression. “I am your one chance. You will work for me, you will follow my orders, and you will keep your homes and your livelihoods. This man,” he said, pointing at Gant, “has had his chance. And he used it to lead you astray.”

The resentful muttering turned to murmurs of fear as Jager drew his sword.

“Disloyalty has to be punished."

Turning back towards Gant, he motioned for the others to push the old man to his knees. Looking at Wolfgang, he asked in a low voice:

“Want to be headsman?”

OOC: As before, interrupt where you like.

If Wolfgang chooses to execute Gant, treat Gant as Helpless (provided someone else has made him kneel): you hit automatically (so can select the location you hit via a Called Shot if you wish) and do a bonus d10 damage. A clean execution will convey more authority than a messy one. If Wolfgang doesn't want to and someone else wants to step up, Jager won't object, so don't feel you have to wait on a middle-man post from me.

For the non-Elsas, you can all roll Perception at +20 to notice Elsa in the crowd, since her appearance is very distinctive.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert's hand lay on the hilt of his sword, though his palms felt so clamy he wondered if would slip straight out of his hand should he have to use it. He looked at the crowd, wondering how Averlanders would react to this sort of 'justice'.

As he limped over to Gant, Adelbert 'accidently' gives the ambuser a push in the small of the back. "That's for the ambush friend... and the leg!" He sneered then hooked a finger on the bandit's collar and dragged him back.

As he yanks the bandit back Adelbert tries to whisper: "Run when the axe drops."

Reaching Gant the scribe pushes the older man to his knees, keeping his foot on the man's back. "On your mark Wolfgang."

[Sodalite]

"I...suppose..." Wolfgang said, perhaps a little more shaken than he was before. Wolfgang took a deep breath, lifted his axe in both hands over his head, and brought it down over Gant's neck, as near to wear he had chopped the bandit's as he could manage.

OOC:
I gosh, even I feel tense! I guess this would count a called shot to the head? Anyway, here goes for the damage...

[roll0] + [roll1]

Also Perception: [roll2] versus 40+20

[-Sentinel-]

Ughhhh. Too much noise, was Elsabeth Holt's first thought as she awoke. Each of her own heartbeats pounded on her temples like someone trying to hammer their way out of her skull. It was early; the sun poured in at a low angle, right into her eyes. She was not an early riser at the best of times, and even less so after downing half a dozen pints of ale. Her red hair was even more of a mess than usual, and her bloodshot eyes stung.

LCP, feel free to inflict Elsa a hangover penalty on skill tests and/or casting rolls for the rest of the morning. It's her own damn fault for not learning from her mistakes. :smalltongue:

She tried to go back to sleep, but now that she was awake, all the noise, the light and the smell of goats made her nauseous. No way to sleep when you feared you might throw up last night’s stringy, under-salted mutton stew any minute. The apprentice lurched to her feet and wondered why, again, she had accepted the worst room in the Wych Elm when her purse was full of gold. Next time, she would make arrangements for a room before getting to the drinking.

Elsa grabbed her staff and exited the building – throwing the goats a dark scowl as if each and every one of them was responsible for waking her up – and made her way to the center of the village, her eyes still half closed from the sunlight and headache. When she joined the back of the crowd, some gazes turned, most of them curious, suspicious or even hostile; her clothing and tattoos made her stand out, even in the land of renegades and expatriates of all kinds. Only when she was deep into the massed crowd did she bother to look at what the commotion was about.

Ah. Overbearing authority figure setting an example.

It was the same everywhere, but it was worse in the Border Princes, where some of the weaker settlements were known to pay protection money to three or four different self-styled lords. The Duke’s man, Jager, had a bunch of armed thugs with him. The show trial did little to improve Elsa’s mood; wizards like her were all too often on the receiving end of such “justice”. What made it worse was how everyone came to gawk, lending the proceedings an undeserved semblance of legitimacy. How pathetic would this sad little spectacle be if people stayed home and minded their business? But of course, she was gawking as well, and nothing would make her budge from here, so perhaps she was part of the problem.

Her face darkened when the sentence fell. She had half a mind to join this Flitch fellow in defiance, but held her tongue. As a stranger in Elmsridge, she would not be missed if the thugs chose to make an example of her as well. Plus, yelling would only make her head hurt more.

For a moment, though, she could swear the headsman's eyes paused on her, shortly before he brought down his axe on the village elder. She met his gaze squarely.

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

Wolfgang saw how his first blow had failed to kill the man, and how could expect it to? Now was not the same as before, and this peculiar woman's visage had his eye the moment he began to swing. Either way, he brought the axe up again, a feeling too gruesome to put words passing through his stomach, before chopping down once more.

OOC:
Another damage roll. I actually really hope this doesn't go on longer.

[roll0] + [roll1] + 2

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

As Jager speaks, Sieghard keeps his eyes on the crowd. None of them look like they wanted to get close and that's fine with him. Even with them unarmed, Sieghard didn't think he would last long if they broke into riot. They'd take several of them with them, but the mass of bodies would soon overwhelm the small group.

He focuses on Flitch when he speaks up. There's one to keep an eye on. He briefly considers shooting the man. It would be a risky action... It would silence him before he could move the mob to violence... But it might also be just the provocation for violence they need. Luckily Jager spared him the need to make that choice.

His eyes drift further and he soon notices the tatooed woman with fiery hair. Another one to watch. He notes to himself, seeing the expression on her face.

The blood splashing on his legs draws his attention away from the crowd for a moment. He barely holds back a string of cursing when he sees the shoddy job Wolfgang managed of a simple execution and instead lets his scowl speak for him.

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

Again, he brought the axe up, and brought down. He couldn't bare to think more about it than that.

OOC:
Damage: [roll0] + [roll1] + 2

[-Sentinel-]

The spectacle was more and more horrific at every axe blow. Elsa clenched her teeth, sending surges of pain through her skull... No one could be that clumsy by accident.

"YOU'RE FµCKING UP ON PURPOSE!" she yelled before she knew what she was doing.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Three swings. Three ****ing swings. Was this idiot trying to make them look like sadists? Was he trying to make the death as painful as he could?

"Damned butcher..." he mumbles just loud enough for Wolfgang to hear.

Elsa's outburst brings his attention immediately back to her. And now it goes from bad to worse...

His hands tense around his crossbow. He couldn't help but think he'd be needing to use it soon.

[LCP]

Gant didn't beg or plead as Adelbert pushed him to his knees. He looked up at Wolfgang with a quiet sort of dignity, then looked away.

The man's dignity didn't last long. The first blow cut deeper into his shoulder than his neck, causing him to cry out. The second just made a worse mess than the first, the voices of the crowd rising in sympathy. It was only on the third stroke, blood speckling his arms and face, that Wolfgang managed to take off the old man's head. Gant's body fell forwards, looking like a chicken butchered by a clumsy farm boy.

Elsa's shout only heightened the hubbub of the crowd, an angry swell of disgust running through the assembled ranks of the villagers. Jager's attention immediately fixed on her - which meant he had taken his sight off the second captive. Making a wild break for it, the man from the road turned and ran, his rope-bound wrists held clumsily in front of him.

Jager's head snapped round like a hunting dog. "STOP HIM!" he bellowed, pointing after the fleeing man. Already striding forwards with his sword in hand, he looked at Sieghard and his crossbow. "Bring him down!"

OOC: No time to make a combat map right now, but Initiative will matter for range.

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]

[roll5]
[roll6] (should they choose to act)

[roll7]

Looks like you guys act before the escapee (except for Elsa). He has one Surprise Round of running before you get to act, so he is 12 squares/24 yards from your current position.

-Sentinel-, if you want to see what the villagers do and so on, you'd best wait for everyone to post so I can throw the GM update up. Once the order gets round to you you'll be at the start of a fairly contiguous block of PCs, so things'll be easier.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

It takes Sieghard a moment to register what had happened. Wolfgang had singlehandedly turned an execution into a slaughter. In the confusion, the captive had slipped away.

He takes a deep breath. One shot. If I can take him down in one shot maybe we can prevent a riot.

He lines up his shot carefully. He wasn't sure there would be another chance.

Crossbow is already out and loaded.

Actions
Aim - Half Action
Attack - Half action.

BS is 39. -20% penalty since he's running, but +20% bonus because of aim and Sharpshooter talent... So flat 39.

Roll to hit - [roll0]
Roll for damage - [roll1]

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

Wolfgang, under considerable duress, takes preventative measure against being put under further duress or potentially snapping in the current situation, collapses, crumpling to ground and dropping his axe, ignorant of the pool of blood he lies in and of the mob of people around, silently trying his hardest to not think about anything. His eyes close quickly, and soon all he chooses to hear is his own breathe.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert felt like he was about to vomit. Turning away from the horrific spectacle he took deep, quick breathes trying to keep his gorge down. As he gasped for air he looked over the crowd, including the wild looking maiden and suddenly wondered if they would charge the group after all. The bandit was getting away but Adelbert had no missile weapon and looked in no condition for a run anyway with the wound in his thigh. So he limped next to Jager.

"Herr Jager," he hissed to the Duke's man. "That crowd will sweep us any moment, we should get you to a fast horse."

[C.J.Geringer]

Reading his axes to protect himself, brand inches closer to adelbert and to the back of the stage, all the while muttering.
"Great, A sadistic headsman, a mercenary, a swordsman and a charcoal burner, I am SO gonna be the one to survive this, I am not out of my depth at all. Gods I miss home"

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa grinned when the prisoner ran away. Oh, she would not bet much on his chances of escaping in the long run; even if he managed to flee the village, he would be hunted down by the Duke's men, or his family would be held hostage until he turned himself in. Still, seeing people defy authority always improved her mood.

Run, run, run, mister, she prayed, moving as fast as she could through the crowd to get a better look. Then, her attention going to the crossbowman: Miss, miss, miss... YES!

And the headsman had just fainted... Jager's thugs were sure not looking professional.

I'm only moving closer. Elsa is reckless, but not so reckless as to publicly help an accused murderer escape.

[LCP]

Sieghard's bolt buried itself in the hard earth, a foot or two wide of the escaping prisoner. Spitting an oath, Jager made to dash after him. Adelbert's hand brought him up short - he made to push the scribe aside, only to see six of the villagers blocking his way. Over their heads, the escaped man was receding fast, dashing away past the tavern.

The peasants remained, a stubborn roadblock, as Jager approached with menace. The crowd was flowing slowly forwards, Adelbert saw, like the tide coming in on a calm summer day. Circling around to the left and right, they had Jager and the party surrounded.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert slid his smallsword out of its sheet, but kept the blade lowered - a sign to the locals that he was armed but had no intention of using it wildly. Moving in front of the Duke's man he cleared his throat and spoke through lips suddenly dry: "Who amongst you will speak for the village?" He glanced at the unfriendly faces and tried not to lose all colour from his face.

"Who," he repeated loudly and clearly, "will speak for you when the Duke's soldiers come to investigate? And they will come if we do not return to Alvarran. Any more blood spilled today will be repaid." He paused, again searching the crowd for anyone who looked reasonable. The villagers were angry alright but there had to be a few who knew killing five of the Duke's retainers would bring them nothing but disaster.

Swallowing he continued. "I am Adelbert Schreiber of Averland. The Duke expects me." Adelbert lied. "Shall I speak with a dead tongue... or with a life one people of Elmridge? Shall I bring news of your deeds of of your words?"

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard looked at crowd. His anger was more directed at Wolfgang's botched execution and his own failed shot than at them. He tried to keep it hidden.

He had never been put into a position of authority. He had no experience speaking to people from a position of power. He did, however, have a fair share of experience doing impersonations of the men who had held authority over him in the past. He did his best to immitate the way those men had spoke... And to do it far less mockingly than he ever had in the past. As Adelbert finished, be started to speak.

"The man you're allowing to escape is guilty of crimes beyond count. In the eyes of the law and the gods themselves his life is forfeit. "

He pauses, trying to gague the crowd's reaction so far.

"His guilt and the guilt of his companions has been proven beyond question. Banditry. Murder. Treason against the Duke."

"'m not a bandit... 'm a beastman."

“Einholtz was taken by the forest. De la Poeur ran away. He saw something, in the woods.”

“The forest doesn't belong to the duke.”

An idea strikes him and he reaches down for one of the beastman masks laying in the pile of bodies. He raises the mask for the crowd to see.

"Conspiring with the beasts who dwell in the dark corners of the wood and darker things besides."

If the old man had managed to sell these people his lies, maybe it could be turned in their favor.

Tell me their reaction so far and depending on how it goes, I'll go from there.

[LCP]

Adelbert's words had stopped the villagers before they advanced any closer. They seemed to be listening, at least. Time spent talking was more time for their man to run.

Jager gave Sieghard a scornful look as the mercenary appealed to their sense of duty. "You think they don't know what those men were up to?" he asked. "Their wives are probably standing in this crowd here. Probably sewed those masks together for them." He spat. "They know what they did."

"You hear that man?" he shouted, raising his voice and pointing at Adelbert. The pointing finger swept out to where the fleeing man had vanished between the cottages. "You'll bring him back, or you'll all be punished! Every man jack of you! Aye, every woman too!"

The villagers stared cold, unsympathetic stares. Not one of them moved.

[TheSummoner]

(Since the villagers have stopped advancing, I'm going to take that to mean I have to talk. Feel free to interrupt me if you disagree with that interpretation)

Sieghard

Sieghard scowled back at Jager. He kept his voice down, hoping that the crowd wouldn't be able to hear him over their own noise.

"Are you trying to get us killed? How much help do you think your sword is going to be when they hold you down and tear you limb from limb?"

"The old man put them up to it. If you're lucky he kept as many of them ignorant as possible. If not, it'll be you and the butcher they go for first and don't expect me to throw my life away trying to stop them."

He turned back to the crowd.

"As he himself has told you, Herr Jager is not a good man. You are fortunate, however, for the Duke is a good man. He knows that the crimes of a few wicked men are not the crimes of an entire village. That man..."

He gestures towards Gant's dead, deceased corpse with his boot.

"... Has decieved you. He has worked to lead you away from the graces of our great Duke. Look around you and tell me what you see. Prosperity. Security. Were you born elsewhere you would toil under the lash of cruel masters. Zealot knights or Elf lords or worse. But no! You had the good fortune to be subjects of a more generous lord. A lord who demands only your loyalty. That man..."

Again, he gestures to Gant's body.

"Would have led you astray. Our Duke does not look kindly on those who defy him. Perhaps you have heard the story of Baron Hartmut. That is the end that man would have led you to. Such crimes can only be washed out in blood. His blood has cleansed your village."

He pauses for a moment.

"Would you defend such a man? A man who would lead you down the path to ruin? A man who takes your daughters to warm his bed? Mark my words, Gant and his men would've offered each and every one of you to their beastling masters given time. They have already sacrificed two of our Duke's loyal men to their forest lords. How many more would die if not for the Duke?"

He stares out into the crowd.

"Choose! Who does your loyalty lie with? Does it lie with Duke Edouard, who has protected you from the agressions of other self-styled lords... who has given you comfort and safety? Or does it lie with traitors and the beasts of the forest?"

[LCP]

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed.

Meeting Sieghard's stare, the man Flitch stepped forward.

"Beastling masters?" he said, derisively. "Gant was one of us."

A frightening swell of agreement came from the peasants behind him.

"You ain't the duke's men," Flitch continued, imbued with confidence by the crowd's support. "The duke's men don't faint at the sight of blood. You think Alvarr's any different from the rest of them?" He pointed at Jager. "That's one of the duke's men. Him and the others before 'im."

"They wanted us to cut down the wood!" called another voice from the crowd. There was another rising hubbub from the surrounding peasants, calling out their agreement in a mixture of anger, resentment and fear.

"I don't want to see no more blood spilt, mister," said Fitch. He was still pointing at Jager. "Hand him over and we'll let the rest of you go in peace."

"Him and the other one!" called a different voice. Many others called out "Aye!"

Looking over his shoulder, Fitch nodded.

"Aye. Him and his executioner there." He pointed at the unconscious Wolfgang. "We don't want any more trouble than there has to be."

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert turned to Brand: "Make sure none of them go for poor Wolfgang while he's out cold."

Turning back to the crowd he limped forward slightly. "You say you don't want more blood spilt Flitch. Good, neither do I! But I will not let two more men be taken to be strung from the nearest tree." The Scribe turned to his side, exposing the fresh wound in his left tigh and the blood stained clothing around it. "Do you see this? One of your bandits did it - and I did not faint at the sight of that blood! And I won't be fainting either if I have to stop you taking Jager and the headsman" He gave Flitch hard stare: "Our prisoner is running which is a better deal than he and his like gave me and mine. Is that not enough?"

[LCP]

"What do you want us to do?" called back one of the villagers - not Flitch. "Jus' let him go?"

Jager turned like a wolf at bay. "First man to lay a hand on me, loses the hand," he said, his naked blade raised as a promise.

"You know we can't do that, Mister Schrieber," said Flitch, keeping his voice steady. "You said it yourself. First thing this one's goin' to do is come straight back here with his duke's soldiers."

He took a step forwards, daring Jager's blade.

"What do you want us to do? Just knuckle under?" He stared the duke's enforcer straight in the eye. "We ain't goin' to start cutting down the forest for you. It's been here since before your duke was born, and it'll be here long after he's gone."

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert looked grim. "There are no good options here Herr Flitch, only less bad ones. Even if you would live without the Duke would the other princes let you be? Or greenskins or bandits? Remember those soldiers are not only here to keep you on a leash. They protect you too."

The scribe sighed. "Your forest is mighty. It will survive no matter how much you cut... especially because you are your kin know where to cut. Yes it will be smaller but it will still be yours. Now you can either keep some of what you hold dear or probably loose it all - either to the Duke soldiers or threats beyond your borders."

He gave Flitch a not unsympathetic look. "There are no good options, but a good leader can choose the less bad ones."

[C.J.Geringer]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert turned to Brand: "Make sure none of them go for poor Wolfgang while he's out cold."


"Right, wake the sadistic headsman so he can face the music like a man."

Brand goes to the fallen man and tries to wake him up.

OOC
If Brand has any water flask or anything like that he trows it at Wolfgang´s face, if not he presses the cold metal of the axes to his face to try and snap him out of it, if that doesn't work he starts prodding and slapping him

[LCP]

“Listen to the clever man, Mister Flitch,” said Jager, doing his best to keep the growl out of his voice. “Gant paid the price for what he did. You don't have to make the same mistake.”

Jager looked at Flitch, and Flitch looked at Jager, glancing back every so often towards Adelbert. The silence was palpable: the other peasants watched closely, many seeming confused.

“Nice... house, Gant had for himself,” said Jager, keeping eye contact. “Makes sense. Village needs a leader, doesn't it? Smart man like you knows that.” He paused, watching Flitch's face. “We won't be here long, once we get what we want. This house'll be needing a new tenant.”

“You've been cutting down trees for timber as long as there's been a village here, I reckon. All the duke wants is a few more. You're the forester. You tell us where to cut, that's where we'll cut. And there'll be gold in it for you.” He lowered the sword a little. “All you've got to do is tell these people to go back to their homes.”

Sucking his teeth, Flitch looked across at the bloody body of Gant, spread-eagled on the ground.

“I never did like him very much,” he said, with an avaricious gleam in his eye.

There was a scandalous murmuring from the crowd, but it didn't seem to command the same anger as before. Adelbert's patient laying out of the retribution in store must have got through to them.

“And there'll be no more killing?” demanded Flitch. He looked at Adelbert first, not Jager. “Will you swear?”

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert let out a deep shuddering breath and nodded thankfully. "I swear by Sigmar that I and my companions will not be a part of any more killing here." He stood up straighter, looking Flitch in the eye. "And I swear by Verena that I shall put your case to the Duke."

As a sign of good faith he slid his smallsword back into its scabbard and held out a hand as an offer to shake on the deal. "And do you swear to the gods to keep your loyalty to the Duke?"

[LCP]

Flitch looked over his shoulder, all eyes on him. Seeing none of the villagers about to pull him away, he tentatively reached out and took Adelbert's hand.

"I s'pose I do," he said, carefully. Jager watched the two of them through narrowed eyes: Adelbert wondered how much the duke's man appreciated this reversal of authority between the two of them.

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa's liking for Flitch grew, then came crashing down when the man accepted a position as village leader.

"Think he'll keep you in charge, Flitch?" she shouted over the murmurs of the crowd, not even trying to hide. "He wants a lackey who won't ask questions! He'd put one of the sheep in charge if he could!"

Could he not see? Jager was only negotiating because he knew he could not fight his way out of the crowd. Unless, of course, Flitch was just pretending to take the offer in order to seize the opportunity to keep the village out of the Duke's grasp. But even if so, he was in danger; too damn smart for his own good.

[LCP]

The Elmridge peasants drew back from Elsa as she called out, leaving her in an empty circle of earth - but her words seemed to strike a chord. Sieghard heard many of the villagers muttering agreement.

"Ulric's bloody teeth," said Jager. "Who is it now?"

He glared at the crowd.

"You want to let a woman speak for you?" he shouted. "Bring her forward!"

A opening formed in the crowd between Elsa and the men in front of the long-house. Nobody wanted to come too close to the queerly-dressed stranger. She had the look of someone who was a lightning-rod for trouble.

"What's your name, girl?" Jager demanded.

[-Sentinel-]

Where some people might have felt dread, Elsa felt only triumph. Being in trouble was somewhat exhilarating to her, and the way Jager said woman (or worse, girl) only made her more defiant. She moved forward and lifted her chin.

"Elsabeth Holt, sir," she said loudly, her educated tones contrasting with the settlers' rural accents. "And I don't speak for them, only myself."

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

A new sensation entered Wolfgang's perception. A sense of cold, the feeling of old metal...

His eyes flew open, wide, and he sat up from the ground, utterly confused. He looked over and saw the puddle of blood he was in, and the man's corpse from which it came, which made him jump to his feet with a start, before realizing that he half-surrounded by the villager's, who seemed to be significantly displeased. The others with him seem to see him the same, actually, though he couldn't blame anyone besides himself, and his lousy arms making that man's death such a spectacle. Standing up now, Wolfgang remained silent, leaving the axe on the ground, and tried to inch his way away from the croud.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard spits.

"As long as he stays loyal to the Duke, he's got nothing to worry about. Gant betrayed him, had two of his men murdered, and tried to have more killed. The man paid for his crimes with his life, but they were his crimes. Long as Flitch doesn't repeat them, the Duke's got other things to do than be concerned with than how you run your village."

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert looked at Elsa in dismay and more than a little surprise. He hadn't expected to hear another Imperial accent here, let alone such a polished one.

"If you speak for yourself Frau Holt, then the business is none of yours." Adelbert's Averland accent was the equal of Elsa's when it came to education. He gestured at Flitch. "Herr Flitch speaks for his villagers and he has given me his word that Elmridge is loyal. Who are you to question his oath or character?" A trace of anger passed across Adelbert's face but he kept his tone measured. "And who are you to call me into question? I have sworn an oath in the name of Sigmar and Verena in front of a score of witnesses and I will not have my word questioned."

With that he turned from Elsa and addressed Flitch in warmer tones. "Herr Flitch is there a priest or priestess in the village? I shall gladly take the oath again before them."

He didn't say it but Adelbert devoutly hoped there was a priestess of Shallya was here. His tigh was still aching and he was beginning to feel light headed. Only the thought of what would happen if he stumbled - or actually did faint - was keeping him on his feet and he was unsure how long that would last.

[LCP]

Flitch shook his head. "No priests here. We had a priest of Morr, come through, once." There was a pause. "He moved on."

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Despite the blood loss (or maybe because of it) Adelbert actually managed to smile at that. "People do, so I hear." The scribe paused a moment before adding: "In that case let our words be enough."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"Gone the way of Einholtz and de la Poeur I'd wager."

Sieghard mutters under his breath. As short as his patience is with these people, he's still not stupid enough to say something like that loud enough for them to hear.

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

Remaining silent and continuing to inch his way away from the crowd, Wolfgang looks quickly from place to place around him, looking for a way where he might leave without being noticed as easily as the fleeing bandit.

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa's face grew hard as the bloodstained Averlander spoke. She opened her mouth to reply, but realized she had few words to say to this. The man was right - this was none of her business. She was not even from here. If the people of Elmsridge had something to say, let them say it. But if they were too cowardly to speak out for themselves, they did not deserve to be defended by the stranger they had lodged in a goat shelter.

She calmed down a bit and put on a less aggressive look. At least she had lost the argument to a fellow educated person, not one of the bullies. Still, her pride forced her to find something to say without having to concede defeat.


"In that case let our words be enough."
"I'm sure you mean it. Do you speak for the Duke?"

[LCP]

Jager fixed his eyes on Elsa.

"These people don't need you causing them trouble, girl," he said in warning tones."I speak for the duke, and I say, be quiet."

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa bristled at being called girl. "I'm nothing if not loyal to that duke fellow," she said with dripping sarcasm, bowing extravagantly. She stepped back into the crowd.

[LCP]

"Duke Edouard Alvarr," Jager called after her. "And you'd better be, girl. You're on his land."

He clearly wasn't about to let her just walk away.

"What's your business in Elmridge, Elsa Holt?"

[RossN]

"I'm sure you mean it. Do you speak for the Duke?"

Adelbert turned back, and gave Elsa a second look, less hostile and rather more surprised than the one he had a few moments ago. He was obviously considering how to respond when Jager spoke up. The scribe closed his own month and looked at the Imperial woman, wondering how she would respond to that.

[-Sentinel-]

"Passing through," said Elsa curtly. "Bright Order business... in Savonne," she said, naming a town she had seen on another traveller's map.

I imagine Bright Wizards, being fiery and unsubtle, are less commonly incognito than the wizards of most orders. Elsa is certainly not the sort to blend in, so I don't think this revelation would be news to the people of Elmridge.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"Savonne? Business with that bastard elf from the sound of it."

[LCP]

"Aye," said Jager. "That is how it sounds." He swaggered forwards another step. "What I hear, elves and witches, they're like that."

He raised a hand with crossed fingers. The villagers shuffled back from Elsa a little more.

"Now an honest woman, heading for Savonne," Jager said, "she'd be taking the north road straight through Alvarran. Don't see why anyone would take the Elmridge fork if they were going that way." He looked back over his shoulder. "Mr Flitch! You're the local. You get many travellers coming through here?"

Flitch suddenly looked uncomfortable being put on the spot.

"...Sometimes," he said. "When they're headed west." He paused. "Not many."

"That's what I'd have thought." He looked back at Elsa. "Now what kind of business would a wizard have in Savonne?"

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert stirred uncomfortably and briefly looked over at Brand, wondering how the local would react to the presence of a wizard. He glanced back over at Elsa then turned to Jager. "Herr Jager... the Magister is from the Empire and alas knowlege of the Princes is slight there. It may be that Magister Holt is simply lost when she took this route and always intended to go through Alvarran."

The scribe looked over at Elsa, hoping the stubborn young woman wouldn't dig herself in deeper.

[-Sentinel-]

Ah, a place with an Elf. Good. It lent credibility to her lie, though it did not make her more popular.

"Now what kind of business would a wizard have in Savonne?" asked Jager.

"The kind that is none of yours," said Elsa bluntly. "My defiance here today is my own affair, not the Bright Order's, and do whatever you will about it. But I don't see that I need to yell all of my Order's secrets in a nation the Emperor hasn't even heard of."

[LCP]

Jager ignored Adelbert's attempts to calm the conversation. His attention was still fixed on Elsa.

"Your order's secrets, is it?" he said. Elsa couldn't tell from his voice whether he believed her. "And they sent you all on your own." He made a tch noise. "I don't think your order likes you, girl."

Advancing through the crowd, he left the raised stage that the mound on which Gant's house stood had afforded him, coming to a halt a few feet in front of Elsa. He spoke to her face-to-face, no longer using the declamatory tone he had employed with the villagers.

"You're a long way from the Empire, Miss Holt. Best you get used to it." He looked her up and down. "We're three hundred leagues from Altdorf, and your Emperor's name doesn't mean spit."

Pausing, he looked over his shoulder. The trouble that Adelbert had narrowly defused had robbed him of his authority to brutalise whoever he pleased in front of this crowd.

"They say the mad knight's got a wizard, down in the south," he said. His tone was almost conversational. "Can turn horse-**** into gold, I heard. Now there's someone the other lords would dearly like to steal." Another pause. "You want to stay alive, my girl, you should choose your friends more wisely. There's nothing in Savonne but widows and whores. Alvarran, now that's a town."

Turning away, he walked back towards the others. "We're finished here," he barked. "All this talking is making me thirsty. You lot!"

He waved his arm to encompass Adelbert and the group.

"We're going to the tavern," he said. "Flitch, I'll talk to you later."

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert had never been so grateful to hear any words as he was to hear "we're going to the tavern." The scribe let out a long held breath he hadn't realised he had been holding. Turning to Flitch he gave a respectful nod of his head. "Herr Flitch... no doubt we will meet again"

As the scribe limped after Jager he paused and looked over at Elsa and muttered "Stultissima!" quietly, but probably still loud enough for her to hear.

Latin Classical for "You total idiot!"

Shaking his head he limped on, gesturing for Brand to join the group.

[-Sentinel-]

Elsabeth's gaze did not waver from Jager's eyes. She answered nothing, but took a mental note of the alleged wizard, "down in the south". One of the Gold Order alchemists, if the thing about transmutation was true. But what kind of wizard, except a warlock or renegade like herself, would settle in the 'Princes?

She watched the Duke's men go. The educated-sounding Averlander leaned towards her as he passed. "Stultissima," he whispered. Elsa's only answer was an amused smirk and a nod of concession. This man did not seem quite as bad as the others; he was giving her an honest warning, not a threat.

Unwilling to head to the only place of interest in this sh!thole at the exact same time as Jager and his thugs, she lingered behind at the site of the execution. She would go a bit later, when she could sneak in more or less unnoticed.

"Hmm, so, burial or pyre, d'you think?" she awkwardly asked the nearest villagers, jerking her chin at the bodies of Gant and the bandits. "I can help either way. A fire's cleaner, though, and they say ashes make good fertilizer."

She winced at her own words. Sorry your friends/family members are dead, but look at the bright side, you can now grow vegetables in their ashes!

[LCP]

With Jager already halfway to the tavern, the villagers turned their heads at Elsa's suggestion. She found herself in the centre of a circle of silent, hostile stares. Many of them had not heard the word 'wizard' associated with her until now, but they all knew her as an outsider. She was not one of them. She would never be one of them. And it was clear that they would be damned before they let a mage handle their dead.

"Come on," said a man who wasn't Flitch, deliberately ignoring Elsa as he spoke to his fellow villagers. "Let's cover him up at least."

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

With his pondering over possible distractions cut short by Jager's command, Wolfgang followed silently. It wouldn't show the people here anything, if that even mattered, but escaping from anywhere besides the center of a mob should be easier.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

At the mention of a tavern, Sieghard couldn't help but grin. Something about almost being torn into by a mob of villagers too stupid to abandon their loyalty to a dead traitor had a way of making him thirsty. And if they got their drinks before word of what happened spread, the tavern owner might not even spit in the drinks.

He turned to Wolfgang.

"Comeon, butcher. Stick with the group and we'll try to keep them from lynching you. Might want to let someone else try your drink first though. I wouldn't put poisoning past them after what you did."

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa was bewildered by the looks the villagers gave her. She was used to Altdorf, where wizards were much more respected. "...I'm on your side," she protested weakly, all of her self-importance suddenly gone.

With a resigned sigh, she counted a full minute before heading towards the tavern. A few more drinks might numb her lingering hangover, reasoned Elsa, ever the short-term thinker.

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

Wolfgang tried his best not to glower at Sieghard, responding "I'm not even going to start trying to tell you what what I did did to me." How could he, to man who had likely killed many times more than twice the number of people he has, and who also has so much more strength him? Not to mention, half of the times he'd seen Wolfgang decapitate someone, it hid been a single swing, which would make convincing him of the truth much harder.

How could he, when he could hardly explain why he'd gone ahead and done it, even to himself?

"I won't bother drinking, anyway. It'll only make it worse."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"Made you pass out in pool of his blood from the look of things."

He said with a smirk.

[LCP]

The Wych Elm was a long, low building, like the houses of the villagers. Ungainly wings had been added to the main hall to give the tavern more space, but it was still a small affair compared to any of the great coaching inns that were a common sight along the roads and rivers of the Empire.

Inside, the floor was covered with thin sweepings of musty-smelling rushes. The thatched roof was held up by a network of interlocking beams, stained and sooty from long association with the tavern's hearth. The smell of woodsmoke did something to mask the tavern's less pleasant odours, and Adelbert noticed that many of the cross-beams seemed to have intricate little carvings. Their details were difficult to make out from this distance – one would need a closer examination to see what lay under the grime.

The landlord was a small man with a bulbous, angry nose and a fast-receding mop of fine, ratty hair. He wore shabby clothes and a floppy felt cap, and was engaged in what sounded like detailed negotiations with Karl the carter. At least that meant he hadn't been present at the execution, although it couldn't be long until someone filled him in.

“Hallo there,” said Jager, his voice filling the confined space as he entered the tavern. The two men broke off their haggling. “Good to see the keeper of the house already up and about. What's your name?”

“Lagnier,” volunteered the tavern-keeper, suspiciously.

“Lagnier,” repeated Jager. “Breton name? Good name.” Advancing to stand alongside Lagnier, he clapped one leather-gloved hand to the smaller man's shoulder. “Well, Mister Lagnier, my friends and I are fairly famished. How about some grub?”

“Ain't serving no grub yet,” grumbled Lagnier, in a voice that sounded about as Bretonnian as an Altdorf chimneysweep. “Too early.”

Trying to pick up his dealings with Karl where he had left off, he found himself turned back round to face Jager by a firm, insistent pressure on his shoulder.

“Let's try that again, Mister Lagnier,” said Jager. “My name's Eugen Jager. I've come from the duke's court in Alvarran, I've ridden through the night to get to your charming little village, and if it hadn't run off I'd be hungry enough to eat my horse. These men,” he said, waving at the others, “are with me.”

He slapped the tavern-keeper on the shoulder heartily enough to make him stagger. “So, it'll be a meal for us, please. Proper food, not what you keep for folk like that red wench outside. Ale too, and plenty of it. We,” he said, pointing, “will be sitting over there.”

Turning away, he nodded to Karl. “Morning, carter.” Without another word he rejoined the others, taking the largest table that still had a back to a wall.

“Sit,” he said. Pulling off his gloves, he threw them down on his chair, taking a seat himself. “Reckon it's time we settled up.”

Producing his money-pouch from his belt, he counted out a crown for Brand, a crown for Sieghard, and three crowns for Adelbert. “That's for getting us out of a sticky situation, back there,” he said, with an appreciative nod. “And you,” he said, glaring at Wolfgang but keeping his voice low, “you should be glad that all you're getting is nothing.”

“Gods' blood, man, I saw you take a man's head off with one blow! What do you think you were playing at?” Jager's voice was a venomous hiss, the man resisting the urge to shout. “It's fear that keeps these people in line. Fear and blood. And there's you, fainting away like some delicate bloody flower.”

Face set in a scowl, Jager straightened up. He said nothing for a few seconds as Lagnier came scurrying over, bringing the first of the things he had asked for – ale, bread and hard cheese. It seemed if they wanted anything cooked they would have to wait a while.

“These peasants think they can set terms with the duke now,” continued Jager, once the man had left. “I can't let 'em hold the work hostage whenever the fancy takes them. Now, if you want to go your own way after this, I won't stop you.” He took a deep draught from the leather stein Lagnier had brought him, and made a face at the taste. “But I need someone to take a message to the garrison at Hartmut's Fall, tell the commander there that I need soldiers here to back me up. If you're up for it, there'll be more gold in it for you. Maybe even for Swooning Sally here.”

The front door of the Wych Elm creaked, and Elsa entered. Jager stopped talking, looking straight at her with a confrontational air. He said nothing, only staring.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard gladly takes the coin and pockets it. After a mouthfull of bread and a swig of the ale, he speaks up.

"Tried to warn you the three of them wouldn't be much good if it came to bloodletting. Never woulda thought butcher here would faint at it, but that swing of his was naught but luck."

He takes another drink and tries the cheese. It's far from the best he's had, but he's not about to complain. He's had far worse afterall. He lowers his voice a bit as Elsa enters.

"Hartmut's fall ain't far from here... Under a day's travel if you make good time, right? Hows the road from here to there?"

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert gave Wolfgang a sympathetic. Horrific as it had been to watch Gand's death it must have been a hundred times worse to administer it. "At least join us in having some bread my friend."

The scribe gratefully pocketed his own gold and had started on his food and drink, only to look up in surprise when Elsa entered. He hesitated a moment, then turned to Jager. "Perhaps I could talk some sense into my fellow countrywoman? She doesn't look like she's here to pick a fight."

[C.J.Geringer]

Brand, before going to the tavern. goes to elsa, who by vitue of saying what she means lain and clearly actually makes him more comfortable than Jager.

"You are not from around here, so I will give a world of advice, If you don´t mind.

Your best chances are being discrete or being useful. You don´t have much luck with the former, so you should try the other.

I seen your type many times, you came here and don´t like what you see. You feel we are "barbarians". But this is a hard place, the kind of thing you saw just now is what keeps the whole village alive. your intentions are good, but the last thing these people want is to draw attention to themselves.

Also, you could use a guide."

[LCP]

"Hartmut's fall ain't far from here... Under a day's travel if you make good time, right? Hows the road from here to there?"

"Not much of a road," said Jager. "But aye, you can make it in a day, if you don't slack. Once you enter the Black Karst, though, it's best to be on your guard."


"Perhaps I could talk some sense into my fellow countrywoman? She doesn't look like she's here to pick a fight."

"Looks exactly what she's here for to me," said Jager, in a low voice. He kept his eyes on Elsa, and seemed reluctant to say more when she could overhear. "You do as you please."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"Rough territory? Can't say this is the lot is my first choice to have at my back for something like that. Still... Might be worth it..."

Sieghard says, swishing the ale around slowly in his stein and pretending to think about it more than he actually is.

"... If the price is right."

[-Sentinel-]

Before going to the tavern

Elsa was just starting to walk away from the site of the execution when one of Jager's men accosted her. She stiffened a bit and, by reflex, started to draw the wind of Aqshy to her. The Red Wind swirled madly around here right now, strengthened by the recent violence and the villagers' anger.


"You are not from around here, so I will give a world of advice, If you don´t mind.

Your best chances are being discrete or being useful. You don´t have much luck with the former, so you should try the other.

I seen your type many times, you came here and don´t like what you see. You feel we are "barbarians". But this is a hard place, the kind of thing you saw just now is what keeps the whole village alive. your intentions are good, but the last thing these people want is to draw attention to themselves.

Also, you could use a guide."

Elsa gave him a flat look. "Don't patronize me, mister. I may be one of those fancy city folks who know how to read and stuff, but I do know how the real world works. Either you change that world for the better, or it changes you for the worse. I choose the first option and I accept the consequences." She paused, and grudgingly conceded: "I could use some guidance. I lost my map while fording a river and haven't found one since. But why one of the Duke's men would offer me help is beyond me."

1

At the tavern

Elsa carefully ignored the men at the table, but was quietly satisfied to hear a brief pause in their conversation. She walked over to a table on the other side of the room and sat with her back to the wall so that no one could sneak up behind her. The innkeeper was nowhere in sight. Probably in the kitchen. The drink would have to wait.

With nothing else to do, she did what she had not done half as often as she should have during his years at the College; she opened her copy of Delbrück's Practical Pyromancer, Third Edition, and began to read. Not for the first time, she wondered why she had even bothered to pack the heavy tome in her luggage before leaving Altdorf.

For a book about 'practical pyromancy', it sure contained a lot of tedious theory.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert glanced over at the wizardress but decided to do nothing for the moment. Giving her temper there was a good chance she's make his breeches catch fire as soon as he got within ten feet of her table.

Instead he enjoyed his ale and food. He'd had better - much better - before but he wolfed it down hungrily. The scribe had been through a great deal in the last couple of days and hadn't realised how much he needed just to sit down, eat and drink. Of course as the son of a civilised family he was careful to clean up after himself, oblivious to the looks any of the others might have given him as he dabbed at his lips with his hankerchief.

"I'm not sure I'm in condition to ride so far Herr Jager," Adelbert said and smiled wryly. "I'll stay here were it is safe with only scores of angry villagers to worry about. I would like to see Alvarran... though, perhaps the Duke would have a job for a man of letters?"

He didn't say it but the scribe was also thinking on the oath he had taken to present the villagers case to the Duke. No need to remind Jager about that little promise...

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

Wolfgang did bother to take a few bites of bread, if only to sate some hunger. There could have been a live roach for all he was paying attention to what he was eating.

Hm...Should he leave? He hadn't expected any sympathy from the scribe, so maybe the outlook of staying with group was brighter than he first guessed. He would certainly have to avoid any similar situations as before, but he was certain that Jager would offer the position of headman to him a second time, and he could always hand back out of the fray if they were caught by bandits again.

[LCP]

"Rough territory? Can't say this is the lot is my first choice to have at my back for something like that. Still... Might be worth it..."

Sieghard says, swishing the ale around slowly in his stein and pretending to think about it more than he actually is.

"... If the price is right."

"I'll pay ten schillings a head, up front," said Jager. "When you get the message where it's meant to go, you tell them my name, tell them I promised you they'd make it up to three crowns apiece."

OOC: If anyone has the Haggle skill and wants to take a crack at this, feel free. Haggle is a Basic skill too, so you can even take a crack at it untrained.


"I'm not sure I'm in condition to ride so far Herr Jager," Adelbert said and smiled wryly. "I'll stay here were it is safe with only scores of angry villagers to worry about. I would like to see Alvarran... though, perhaps the Duke would have a job for a man of letters?"

Jager gave a mirthless chuckle. "You see any horses round here? Who said anything about riding?"

He looked at Adelbert's leg. "Doesn't look too deep to me. A man'd walk it off. Still, I'm not going to force you." He didn't look particularly happy about it, though. "It isn't too far to Alvarran on the north road. The duke's always got work for clever men."

He looked at Adelbert slyly. "'Course, you'd be doubling back to get to the north road. From here, the Karst road isn't much longer." He looked over the scribe's shoulder, making sure Elsa was not near enough to overhear. "If you felt like passing by Hartmut's Fall on your way, you could present yourself to Duke Edouard with my recommendation..."

Over by the bar, Lagnier had fallen back into dickering with Karl. From the sound of things, the tavern-keeper wasn't happy at the prices the carter was asking to carry some goods up into the Raven Hills.

[-Sentinel-]

It did not take long for Elsa's mind to stop registering the notions she was reading about; all she saw was words and words and words, phrased in ways that seemed almost deliberately dry in an attempt to give a semblance of scholarly respectability to the fine, ancient art of setting things and people on fire. The pounding headache certainly did not help her concentration. She got up and headed to the bar, walking slowly and quietly in hopes of catching the exchange between Karl and Lagnier. It had been a while since her last true conversation with anyone, so listening to other people's conversations was the next best thing.

When she arrived close enough that the innkeeper had to acknowledge her, she jingled her purse and forced a smile. "Hey, it's starting to smell pretty good. How much for a bowl of whatever's cooking? And a beer, of course, same as last night."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"Three crowns is fine by me so long as it's not just me on the road alone. One man makes a tempting target and I'm not sure it'd be worth the risk without a good mount."

He pauses to take another drink.

"Even with a full group, a lot can happen on the road. I'll probably be fine, but if they plan on taking the job, it might not be a bad idea to see about getting the rest of them a bit of protection. Hell, look how much the scribe has been complaining about one little scratch."

He turns to Adelbert for a moment and runs a finger along the scar on his left arm.

"Try nearly losing an limb and then you'll know which wounds are worth complaining about."

He turns back to Jager.

"Can't help but think a village this close to the woods would have a leatherworker."

He waits for Jager's reply before continuing.

"Another thought... Does this garrison have anyone who can heal wounds? Those two..."

He gestures to Adelbert and Brand

"... Could use some patching up and like I said, there's no guarantee we'd make it there with taking a few more cuts and bruises."

So... Sieghard is more or less trying to haggle Jager into either tossing a few more coins up front to go towards armoring up our less-armored guys or maybe use his authority to try to get us a discount. I don't expect he'd pay for it in full even with an amazing roll, but maybe he can be convinced to help cover the costs a bit.

He's also trying to get Jager to put something in the message about tending to any injuries we have by the time we get there... Free of charge hopefully... Assuming of course there's someone at Hartmut's Fall capable of doing so.

Sieghard doesn't have haggle, so he's got to try it at half skill... I suppose even if he fails, someone with the skill (Brand) might try backing up his suggestion.
[roll0]
(Success on 15 or below)

[LCP]

Jager seemed unmoved.

"I was under the impression that you made a living out of dealing with danger," he said. "You think I'd pay some runner boy three whole crowns just to carry a message? If you can't look after each other, that's your own lookout."

He took another swig from his cup.

"It's a short road, inside our territory. Worst you might have to deal with is robbers or wild animals. Neither of them's likely to attack a large party if they see you're armed."


"Can't help but think a village this close to the woods would have a leatherworker."

Jager frowned and lowered his voice. "And if you go asking these villagers for supplies, they'll get wind of where you're headed. I want you to be quick, and I want you to be quiet. It's one day's march. You don't need more than what you already have."


"Another thought... Does this garrison have anyone who can heal wounds? Those two..."

He gestures to Adelbert and Brand

"... Could use some patching up and like I said, there's no guarantee we'd make it there with taking a few more cuts and bruises."

"They might have a barber-surgeon up there," said Jager. "They'll have someone. Depends how much you trust a sawbones." He sat back in his chair. "Me, I wouldn't trust some quack to put his filthy hands on a little cut like that. Strong drink and fresh air, that's what keeps you alive."


~

Over on the other side of the common hall, Karl and Lagnier broke off their conversation again. The tavern-keeper looked over his shoulder at Elsa with an expression of irritation and distrust.


"Hey, it's starting to smell pretty good. How much for a bowl of whatever's cooking? And a beer, of course, same as last night."

"There isn't enough for you," said Lagnier with a surly air. "Go sit back down."

[-Sentinel-]

You're damn lucky you're the only innkeeper in a day's walk in any direction, Elsa was tempted to say. In Altdorf, you'd be out of business in less than a month, treating a paying customer like that.

She slid a schilling on the bar. "Alright, then," she said irritably. "I'll have a loaf of bread, a slice of cheese, a bit of cured sausage, and as much beer as the rest of this coin can buy me."

[LCP]

Picking the coin up between finger and thumb, Lagnier squinted at it like a fence assaying a stolen jewel. Seemingly satisfied, a quick motion of his hand made the coin vanish into his grubby apron.

"You'll 'ave what's 'ere," he said, no more politely than before. "This ain't some posh house where you can pick an' choose. Sit yourself back down an' wait."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"I do. Them? I just don't want them running at the first sign of danger."

He finishes his ale and takes a bit more bread.

"So is it just the message or is there anything else you'll be needing after it's delivered?"

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa forced another smile. "Thanks. No worries, I don't think the gentlemen over there plan to stay long."

She went back to her table and tried once more to read.

[LCP]

"So is it just the message or is there anything else you'll be needing after it's delivered?"

"Just the message. Tell the commander I need a dozen good men, and a fresh horse." He looked around the dingy tavern. "That should be enough to keep these foresters in line."

[C.J.Geringer]

Befor ethe tavern and I am done:

[QUOTE=-Sentinel-;14597100] But why one of the Duke's men would offer me help is beyond me."[/COLOR]

"Duke´s men? You assume far too much.

What you said about the world is true enough, but you need to understand what you are changing.

It is one thing to know tha you need to burn wood to make charcoal. it is another completely different thing to know, why you should make charcoal instead of just burning the wood as fuel, and a third completelly diferent thing to know HOW to burn the wood into charcoal.


You talk about "the World" as a simple thing. My one talent is staying alive here, how long do you think I would last in one of your fancy colleges or even your city of your empire? "


:Brand shakes his head: he just wanted to help, but didn´t seem to be working. At least he was happy to talk with someone else, things were too tense for too long for a simple charcoal burner turned guide.

"I go"

Brand goes t the tavern, without waiting for a reply, he didn´t wish to arrive late and lose any important information

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

"Well, how can I say no to a recommendation?" Adelbert asked and gave a wry smile as he finished off the last of his ale. "You have yourself a deal Herr Jager."

The scribe glanced over at the wizardress again. Unbelivably stubborn as she was she was also a fellow Imperial in this foreign country and well educated. The fact that she was apparently literate probably made her unique in these lands. After a few more moments of hesitation he got up and strolled over, expression neutral.

"Promise not to incinerate me if I join you Magister Holt? You are the first person I've seen with a book this side of the Vaults."

[-Sentinel-]

Before the tavern

Oh, a philosopher. Elsa rolled her eyes. Where had Jager gotten those men? If it was bullies he wanted, they seemed rather inadequate. She watched the charcoal burner go without a word.

1

At the tavern


"Promise not to incinerate me if I join you Magister Holt? You are the first person I've seen with a book this side of the Vaults."
Elsa looked up from her book and gave the man a wry smile. She held this one in slightly less contempt than the others. "Well, mister, this sure beats: 'Oh, a lady of learning! Who taught you your letters, child?' So... no, I won't incinerate you unless you give me a good reason to." She paused. "You got a name?"

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert smiled back, dryly amused. He took a seat across from the wizardress. "Adelbert Schreiber of Averland. I suppose I wouldn't be the first to tell you that you have a knack with people Magister Holt." He glanced down at her book then looked up, eyebrow raised. He paused a moment before speaking quietly:

"Believe it or not Magister Holt but I'm not just a hired thug anymore than you are just mindless troublemaker." The ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he added: "Recent evidence notwithstanding for us both. I am actually here to write a book."

[-Sentinel-]

Elsabeth politely feigned interest. Now he's waiting for me to ask what it's about.

"Oh? What is it about?"

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

"I can't say, any more than you'd tell me about what you want in Savonne." Adelbert stated, his exression surprisingly serious. Already he was regretting saying as much as he had. He'd never heard of the University of Nuln employeing Magisters as spies but still, one never knew.

"That said I wanted to offer you a friendly piece of advice from one civilised person to another: don't stick around here. I doubt Herr Jager will make your stay comfortable. Guten Tag Magister Holt."

That said he got up and limped back over to join the others.

[-Sentinel-]

"I'm so glad someone's here to tell me these things," said Elsa almost inaudibly to the departing man.

If Adelbert knew Elsa, he would know that the best way to get her to do something was to advise her to do the exact opposite. It was only her nature. Now she wanted to stay all the more, if only to show Jager that she could do whatever the hell she pleased and would not leave until she wanted to.

[LCP]

"Well, how can I say no to a recommendation?" Adelbert asked and gave a wry smile as he finished off the last of his ale. "You have yourself a deal Herr Jager."

“Right then,” said Jager. “That's settled.”

Finishing off his ale and pocketing the last of the bread, he stood up. “I'll see you lads later. Time for me to have a word with our Mr Flitch.”

With that, the duke's man stood up and left the tavern. Watching him go with a suspicious look, Lagnier came scuttling crabwise over to their table.

“So...” the tavern-keeper said, with a nasal intonation. “Which one of you is paying the bill?”

OOC: Lagnier is charging each of you 10p for the food and ale. This is a little on the steep side for what you got.

1

Adelbert (and anyone who goes with him to talk to Flitch)

Later, when Jager had finished whatever business he had with Flitch, Adelbert sought the villager out. Flitch was a bowyer: Adelbert found him in his workshop, three bows in various states of completion lying here and there around him.

“Another of you,” said Flitch, seeing the scribe come in. “What do you want?”

1

Sieghard (and anyone who goes with him to talk to Jager)

Later, when Jager had returned from his meeting with Flitch, Sieghard found the duke's man standing by the dry moat surrounding the village. He was looking out at the edge of the forest, his gloved hands clasped behind his back.

Hearing Sieghard's footsteps behind him, he turned round. Recognising the mercenary's face, he nodded.

“Something on your mind?”

[Sodalite]

"Change for this?" Wolfgang says quietly, not looking up from the table where he continued to sit, drawing out and holding up a single crown for the Lagnier to see.

[LCP]

At the Wych Elm

Lagnier's acquisitive eyes gleamed as he saw the gold piece.

"Right y'are, sir," he said, suddenly obsequious. Vanishing the coin with one grubby hand, he scurried away to return with seven schillings and ten pfennigs' change.

[C.J.Geringer]

Brand pays and goes with adelber to see flitch.

He can´t shake the impression there is still something they don´t know about the village.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Talking to Flitch:
The scribe frowned at being addressed as 'another of you'. "I think I'll leave that part out when I speak to the Duke on your behalf Herr Flitch." Adelbert said cooly. "Perhaps if you have something you would like me to tell him you can do so now?"

He looked at the bows under work. His knowledge of bows was very limited but they looked like decent weapons. "Quality workmanship. Herr Flitch I am working for Jager and the Duke but I am not your enemy and I will not be Jager's lackey for ever." A grim look passed across Adelbert's face as he recalled the execution earlier. "We were wrong to execute Gant without trial and I will try and put a stop to that - as I gave my word."

He turned to leave.

[C.J.Geringer]

Brand stays behind. he approaches Flitch

I am just trying to understand this crazy situation better. I am just a hired guide way over his head.

What did the elder mean when he said the woods do not belong to the duke? is there someone else who lays claim to it?

You can´t have thought the duke would just leave this alone, specially if he heard rumors of a "Beastmen" horde in his domain interfering with his supply. He would have sent an army to deal with it.

Is there something here that you fear more than the duke?

[LCP]

Adelbert & co.


"Perhaps if you have something you would like me to tell him you can do so now?"

"You tell him what Jager did," said Flitch. "You can tell him we won't clear the forest for him, neither, but I don't know what good it'll do. I never heard of a man what could sway 'im."


"We were wrong to execute Gant without trial and I will try and put a stop to that - as I gave my word."

"Trial," echoed Flitch. "We're a long way from judges an' trials, Mister Schreiber."

Shaking his head, he turned back to his work. When Brand approached him, he looked up with a slightly irritated expression.


What did the elder mean when he said the woods do not belong to the duke? is there someone else who lays claim to it?

"The Elmwood's older'n Elmridge," said Flitch, with a stubborn air. "Older'n the duke, too, and them who came before 'im. It doesn't belong to anyone." He took on a mysterious tone. "Old woods got old ways."


Is there something here that you fear more than the duke?

Flitch's air of mystery became somewhat shifty and evasive.

"There's always been stories about the woods," he said. "Like I said. Old woods got old ways..."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard nods. Before speaking up, he makes sure no one else is around.

"Aye, a few things actually. Most important, I was wondering if you had anything that would prove it was you that sent us when we get to Hartmut's Fall. Won't do much good to deliver your message if they don't believe it was you that sent it. Also still need the name of the man you want us to talk to. Pretty sure you don't want us shouting it for all to hear once we get there."

[LCP]

Sieghard (& co.?)

Jager turned back to the forest, his eyes on the trees.

"Garrison commander's a man by the name of Marat," he said. "He asks me how to know I sent you, tell him I told you to remind him of the battle at Grey Fang. That ought to be enough."

[TheSummoner]

"If all goes well, we should reach him tomorrow evening. A day later at the most. Wanted to leave sooner but the rest seem convinced it's worth spending a night in this mudhole."

He pauses, noting how Jager keeps watching the forest.

"There something you're looking at out there?"

[LCP]

Sieghard


"There something you're looking at out there?"

"Trees," said Jager. There was a long pause where it seemed he would offer nothing more than that. "Got to be some reason why these peasants are so damn protective of them."

Shaking his head, he turned away.

"They look pretty ordinary to me. Bunch of superstitious cowards, is what these people are."

[-Sentinel-]

When Elsa's meal and beer arrived, she started with the beer; it worked better on an empty stomach. Her headache began to recede. The trick was to find the correct balance of alcohol-to-blood to have a clear mind; tipsy enough to be free of needless worry about the future, and sober enough to focus on the here and now. Once she found that balance, she would strive to spend the rest of her life with juuuuust the right amount of beer or spirits inside her.

The rest of her life might be rather short, after all.

She shook herself. Her masters would not travel all the way here just for one wayward apprentice. As long as she stayed out of the Empire, she was no longer their problem. And the late Theo was not from an important family; there would be no bounty hunter coming after her.

How much beer does Elsa get for her schilling, in addition to the meal? (Note that she'll stop at 4 drinks in any case, as she can't afford to be too drunk while the village is being 'invaded'.)

For now, Elsa doesn't have much to do that I can think of. I'm content to sit there while the other PCs talk with various people

[TheSummoner]

"You ever see a villager who wasn't a superstitious coward? A stranger passes through 'round the same time someone's milk goes sour and soon the lot of them are crying sorcery."

"That man Flitch... Most of 'em are too cowardly or stupid to think for themselves, but he's just stupid enough to speak out. Potential for a lot of problems with him. If you don't want me asking that's fine, but how are you planning to handle him?"

[LCP]

Sieghard

"Once the men get here from Hartmut's Fall, we won't need Flitch any more," said Jager. He spoke in a low voice, looking over Sieghard's shoulder to make sure no-one could overhear. "Let him be king of his little hill for a day or two. Then he'll be felling trees with the rest of them, or he'll be decorating those stakes."

He indicated the sharpened poles at the bottom of the ditch with a discreet motion of his boot.

"It's the duke's law, or no law. That's what these people need to learn."

[TheSummoner]

"His head might be more trouble than it's worth after what happened with the old man. Butcher's fault, but what's done is done. You could make it look like an accident, but that witch woman would be shouting about it even if it really were an accident."

"Now... If was me, I'd try to use him. You see the way his eyes lit up when you offered him the old man's house? He's a man who can be bought. Drop a few shillings in his hand and use his influence to get them to cooperate. Not like you can't get rid of him later if you want to."

[LCP]

Sieghard

"Aye, the witch woman." Jager's expression hardened. "I've heard about their colleges, up north. You think it's a coincidence that a fire witch shows up in Elmridge just when the duke needs timber?"

"She makes trouble, she'll be first. Villagers might even do it for me. Like you said, they're superstitious buggers." He squared his shoulders, looking back towards the tavern and the centre of the village. "Flitch, we'll see."

[TheSummoner]

"Heh, I doubt they'd raise an eyebrow even if you ran her through in the middle of the village with the lot of them watching. Worst you'd hear is some grumbling about having to get rid of the body."

With that said (unless Jager has more to say), Sieghard heads back to the tavern. He may have to wait around for another day but nothing says he has to deal with the villagers.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Talking to Flitch (& Brand):
Adelbert raised a dark eyebrow. "I take it these 'old ways' involve nearly losing my leg to a man disguised as a beast." The scribe's voice stayed cool. "Well even if you think it is for naught I have given my word and will speak to the Duke. Elmridge will have a voice in Alvarran."

On his way out the scribe added: "I shall recommend that the Duke appoint a priest to your village. A village should not lack for spiritual guidance."

[LCP]

Adelbert & Brand


On his way out the scribe added: "I shall recommend that the Duke appoint a priest to your village. A village should not lack for spiritual guidance."

"Aye, that's what priests tend to say," said Flinch. He seemed unconcerned one way or the other, and made no effort to stop Adelbert from leaving.

OOC: Just to make sure you saw it - CJ, the reply to Brand's questions is in the last Adelbert/Brand post (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=14613894&postcount=160).

[-Sentinel-]

Once she was done with her meal, Elsabeth made a mental list of various things she might need in this land and had not bothered to buy yet. She doubted she would find many of them in a village without even a general store, but gold was one thing she did not lack for and that the people here definitely did.

First, some strong alcohol in case she needed a drink while away from a tavern, a distressingly common occurrence... The innkeeper may have some bottles of spirits. Rations like salted meat and dried fruit, as there was no telling when she might leave fast; a week's worth would do. A vial of oil and a dozen matches, in case her magic failed her. Some rope was always useful as well. Oh, and a map of the vicinity, if such a thing even existed in this village, but she did not count on it. She may have to go to a bigger town.

The search for supplies would also give her an opportunity to get a feel of the village's mood.

As per the book, these supplies are about 1 gc and 13 s (not counting the map), but I'm not expecting any bargains in a place like this. Also, Elsa doesn't haggle; haggling is for peasants.

Gossip 29 to find anything that may be harder to find, like the map: [roll0]
Gossip 29 to hear what the people are saying: [roll1]

Fortune Point to re-roll one of the above, with priority given to the first: [roll2] - I miss Pieter. :smalltongue:

Elsa has nothing else planned for the day, unless something comes up.

[LCP]

Adelbert & Brand

Brand said:

"You may keep quiet, but sooner or later there will be a confrontation and it will surface. If you pretend it won´t, it will just be worse for everyone involved"

Than he shook his head and walks away. Flitch let them leave, clearly not keen on further conversation.

1

The rest of the day passed dully, as days are wont to do in villages like Elmridge. It would be difficult for the villagers to provide entertainment matching the excitement of the morning, and the echoes of those events seemed to dominate the atmosphere in Elmridge for the rest of the day. For what seemed an inordinately long time, Wolfgang could hear the thok, thok, thok of a carpenter's hammer drifting on the still air as three fresh coffins were nailed shut.

The villagers buried their dead outside the dry moat, in a plot of barren land north of the village and west of the woods. Through much of the afternoon, men were working there, shovels biting into the crumbling earth. The three coffins were lowered in face-down, and the earth was heaped back in on top of them.

Elsewhere in the village, Elsa was having trouble finding what she wanted. The villagers were avoiding her, she could tell: not only was she a wizard, she was a dangerous, troublemaking wizard. None of them wanted to be seen associating with her.

The spirits she wanted, she got from Lagnier, although she was pretty sure the surly tavern-keeper overcharged her. The other items on her list were more difficult to find. Elsa was not used to a settlement without shops, and most every person she asked told her that their property was not for sale. Perhaps it was something about her manner.

One of the villagers, a weather-beaten young shepherdess by the name of Heloise, proved less difficult than the others. With Heloise's help, Elsa secured the food, the rope, and the oil, although the oil cost her more than she was happy with. When she asked for matches, Heloise just looked at her blankly, and the other villagers were little better. Matches, it seemed, were a luxury the people of Elmridge did without.

In looking for a map, she drew a blank: the villagers had nothing on paper. Having seen how much the wizard was willing to pay for a few scraps of food and rope, however, Heloise was not so eager to give up. With a greedy glitter in her eyes, the woman volunteered her services.

“Reckon I know these parts well enough,” she said. “I don't have the letters, but I could draw you somethin', if you had somethin' to draw on.”

OOC:
As per the book, these supplies are about 1 gc and 13 s (not counting the map), but I'm not expecting any bargains in a place like this.

The villagers charge you rulebook prices, but Lagnier charges you 2s for the spirits. I'm not sure how many matches you were looking to buy, but if you deduct their cost, add a schilling from Lagnier's price-gouging, and then add whatever you might be willing to offer Heloise, that's what you owe.

1

Backertag, 3rd Nachexen

Early the next morning, the outsiders staying in the inn were woken by the sounds of thumps and curses in the yard. Elsa was still in the Wych Elm's only guest room, and could see what was going on through the narrow, draughty slit that Lagnier called a window; the others had bedded down in the common hall and heard it only through the repeated banging and cussing from the direction of the tavern's back door.

Lagnier and a filthy-looking pot-boy were loading up Karl's cart with barrels of the same watery ale he had been serving them yesterday. The mules were harnessed, waiting patiently for their master as Karl helped with the barrels. Quiet and competent, the carter was the only one not contributing to the racket.

The eastern sky was pale and brightening with the promise of sunrise. His wagon pointed towards the Raven Hills, the carter was clearly planning on making an early start. To Adelbert and the others, the steady snoring of Jager – still asleep in the other corner of the common hall – were a reminder that doing the same might be a good idea.

OOC: Money

Elsa, staying in her 'private room', is charged 1s for the night's stay.
The rest of you, staying in the common hall, are charged 5p apiece.
Anyone who wants breakfast can have it for an additional 5p, or 7p with 'meat'. Don't ask what from.

XP!

For those of you leaving Elmridge, this seems as neat a place as any to hand out the XP for your introductory adventures.

Adelbert, Brand, Sieghard and Wolfgang get 50 XP each for participating in the skirmish on the road.
Since this is the first time he's ever had to really use his sword, Adelbert gets a bonus 25 XP for his performance in that battle.
Everyone (including Elsa) gets 25 XP from participating in the crowd scene
Wolfgang gets a bonus 25 XP from learning about the difficulties of a clean execution.
Sieghard gets a bonus 25 XP from his attempts to subdue the crowd.
Adelbert gets a bonus 50 XP from his successful defusing of the situation.

Finally, for those who are injured, remember that, as long as you are only Lightly Wounded (4 or more wounds remaining), you regain 1 wound per day.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard gathered his things. The sooner they left the more likely they would make it before nightfall. He looked down at Jager.

"Think we should wake him? They might try to stick a knife in him if they catch him sleeping..."

Sieghard will use his 100 experience to advance his WS.

Has Jager already paid us our 10s downpayment? Because if not, I'm definitely waking him.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert yawned and nodded. "He won't thank us but you're probably right." Leaving the others to do the actual waking the scribe moved off to wash and change. Out of habit he'd slept on his book which wasn't great for his back but did wonders for his paranoia.

With a full day of travelling ahead of them Adelbert ordered a full breakfast from the innkeep, on the basis that if he ate his pie swiftly enough his mind wouldn't register what 'meat' he was actually consuming.

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

Wolfgang awoke from a restless sleep. His subconscious had not felt he seen enough seen enough carnage yesterday. Aside from the tiredness, though, Wolfgang felt a little more resolved after thinking over some breakfast, also trying to not to notice anything about the meat he was eating.

OOC:
Would advance Will, but it's not available, so I'll just wait to advance, if possible.

[-Sentinel-]

Elsabeth Holt


2nd Nachexen


“Reckon I know these parts well enough,” she said. “I don't have the letters, but I could draw you somethin', if you had somethin' to draw on.”
"Got something to draw on, alright," said Elsa, opening her book to a mostly-empty page at the end of a chapter. She could almost hear her masters at the Bright College scream in rage. "Just nothing to draw with. We could find some charcoal, I guess... I don't need a precise map, just some roads and the nearest towns."

She smiled at the shepherdess. "That's very much appreciated, thanks. Many of the people here seem a bit distant. Guess they're not used to seeing a young woman travel alone, living the risky life. But I was sure you'd understand."

So yeah, Elsa's a bit clueless.

I'll pay Heloise 5 pennies: with tomorrow's meal at 7 pennies (making it a full shilling), it spares me the annoyance of keeping track of pennies in this stupid non-decimalized system that Elsa would immediately reform if she were in charge. Including the room and all, that's 1 gc and 15 s.

1

3rd Nachexen

This time, Elsa was glad to have her "bedroom", as she did not fancy sleeping in the common room with the Duke's thugs. She had been planning to stay in bed until noon (oh the joys of leaving the College), but the racket outside made that impossible. She sat up with a sigh and glanced out the window. They were loading ale onto the cart.

Incredible. They're actually exporting this excuse for a drink. At a profit.

She got up and put on her wide-brimmed hat, which she used as a makeshift pillow. She was starting to smell like a peasant, she noted, but brushed away the notion of a bath. Like many Bright Wizards, she had a phobia of water. Perfume might do, if she reached something ressembling civilization.

Elsa walked into the common room, sat insolently close to the Duke's men as if they did not exist, and asked for some "meat" pie. It was not so bad... she was pretty sure it was mutton. Despite the early wakeup, she was not in too bad a mood. She was not even hungover.

[TheSummoner]

Ha! Mutton. That meat is Gant and the bandits.

Sieghard gets some ale, a pie, and some bread. He specifically avoids the meat. When Lagnier walks away, he shoves the bread in his pack for the road. He keeps his voice down so only Adelbert, Brand and Wolfgang can hear.

"One of you go see where the carter is headed. If he has to go through Hartmut's Fall maybe he'll be willing to give us a ride again."

If Jager is still sleeping by the time he finishes eating, Sieghard goes over to him and wakes him.

[LCP]

2nd Nachexen - Elsa

Heloise looked a bit disappointed at the fivepence Elsa offered her for the job, but made a go of it regardless. Using a salvaged stick of charcoal, she made a very rough sketch of the hills surrounding Elmridge, and the roads that led into them. She had no letters, and so other towns and villages were marked with little pictures. The shepherdess' skills as an artist left a lot to be desired, and Elsa was left guessing as to what most of them actually represented. Drawn in charcoal as it was, the 'map' would need some care to keep it from smudging.


"That's very much appreciated, thanks. Many of the people here seem a bit distant. Guess they're not used to seeing a young woman travel alone, living the risky life. But I was sure you'd understand."

"I don't know nothin'," said Heloise, defensively. She looked at Elsa as if the apprentice wizard were trying to lure her into a dark alley with a bag of sweets. "I don't know nothin' about that."

Once she had her meagre pay, her sheep suddenly appeared to need much more attention than before. Without much in the way of parting pleasantries, Heloise took her leave.

1

3rd Nachexen - All

Jager was still snoring, his hands crossed over his belly. Approaching cautiously, Sieghard put a gentle hand on the sleeping man's shoulder. Instantly, Jager was awake. His hands moved in a flash, and the next moment he was holding a very sharp-looking poniard out in Sieghard's direction.

"Oh," he said, with a muzzy voice. "'s you." Seeming to think no more of it, he tucked the dagger away. "Sorry 'bout that. Can't be too careful."

Straightening up, he looked around the room. "You lads off then?" He seemed to be on the verge of saying 'about time', but stopped when he saw Elsa so nearby. His eyes narrowed slightly.

"Sorry to see you go," he said, loudly. "Didn't think you'd be leaving so soon."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"Probably better you're on your guard. Part of why I woke you. Thought one of these dogs might start to get ideas if he saw you alone and asleep."

He follows Jager's lead with Elsa.

"Aye, got a bit of family business in Morr's Seat and the rest offered to to tag along and lend a hand."

He lowers his voice to keep Elsa from hearing the rest.

"Just the matter of the ten schillings a head you offered us up front and we'll be off."

[LCP]

"Morr's Seat," replied Jager. There was a long pause while the man thought. "There's a man there I owe some money. Couldn't deliver it for me, could you?" He rummaged at his belt, producing his coin pouch. Upending the bag, he counted out two gold crowns, pushing them across the table. "You give it to Hakon Blood-Song in the Jarl's hall, and you tell him Eugen Jager sends his regards."

When the performance was done, he added under his breath: "Now be on your way, damn you."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"Aye, I'll let him know that you're a man who pays his debts."

He takes the coin and walks away before Jager changes his mind about the extra pay. (Aww, you coulda just let us have the extra coin :smalltongue:)

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

Though he felt oddly uncomfortable leaving after Sieghard, and the entire dealing likewise felt strange, Wolfgang followed him out, not bother to speak of his feeling.

[-Sentinel-]

Elsabeth


2nd Nachexen

Elsa did her best to commit the map to memory; drawn in charcoal, it would not resist the outdoors for very long. She did not expect it to reliably take her further than the nearest proper town, where she could buy a better map.


"I don't know nothin'," said Heloise, defensively. She looked at Elsa as if the apprentice wizard were trying to lure her into a dark alley with a bag of sweets. "I don't know nothin' about that."
Elsa is not especially perceptive where other people are concerned, so I'll roll her an Intelligence test.

Int 35: [roll0]

Elsa stared at the shepherdess for a long, awkward moment, her brow furrowing in puzzlement. If Heloise tought Elsa was trying to trap her, she would notice that the wizard was not nearly as good at hiding her suspicion as would be someone expecting to be lied to.

Elsa's smile came back too quickly to be entirely genuine. "Welllllll, I admire you people. You may not realize it, but you're all made of tougher stuff than Empire folk." She waved and began to walk away. "Thanks for the map, and good day!"

Yep, she thought, she's hiding something. Doing some smuggling on the side, maybe?

1

3rd Nachexen

"Careful, Herr Jager, walls have ears," Elsa mumbled through a mouthful of food, not even looking up from her breakfast. Honestly. Who entrusted someone a sum of money in such a loud voice? In Altdorf, it was an invitation to get robbed.

[LCP]

3rd Nachexen

Soon enough, the four men who had arrived with Jager were leaving the tavern. Jager came as far as the doorway to see them off, leaning against a carved elm stanchion as the four lonely figures traipsed up the road into the hills.

When they had disappeared around the first bend, Jager turned back towards the inside of the Wych Elm. Flicking a suspicious glance in Elsa's direction to make sure she hadn't drawn a knife while he wasn't looking, he went and sat down some distance away, shouting for Lagnier and food. There was a rattle in the back that suggested that the tavern-keeper - or one of his associates - must have heard.

1

Adelbert, Brand, Sieghard & Wolfgang

The road to Hartmut's Fall was stony and ill-kept, shards of shale crunching under the four walkers' boots. They had barely left the village behind them when Karl rattled past them on his cart, the battered wagon now crammed with barrels of ale from the village. From what he'd seen, Adelbert would trust the quality of the barrels over that of the drink.

The carter was headed past their destination, up into the wilds of the Raven Hills beyond the last outposts of Duke Edouard's territory. It wasn't long before the two sturdy mules had left the four trudging figures far behind, Karl and his cart shrinking to a dark point trailing dust on the road ahead. After that, he vanished, swallowed from sight by the rills and ridges that creased the terrain around Elmridge. For a while, he would come periodically back into view, before he left them behind for good.

The sun was high in the sky by the time they reached the edge of the wrinkled foothills. Winding down over a scree-scattered slope beneath a line of short, stubby cliffs, the road descended into the rocky labyrinth of the Black Karst.


http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v700/LordChilipepa/Black_Karst_2_zpsd0d84e43.jpg

It was the first time Adelbert had seen it. Great fangs of rock thrust up from the thin soil, breaking the land into a hundred twisting paths. Weathered and broken, the pinnacles were streaked with sooty black markings, as if scarred by fire. In the crevices between them, stunted trees and hardy scrub grew thickly, casting shadows so deep that even the noonday sun seemed scarcely to reach the bottom.

A couple of dusty-coloured kites were hunting high over the crags, angling their wings to catch the thermals that rose off the baking rocks. The walking had been thirsty work so far, and the scholar's water-bottle was running low. He was wondering now whether he perhaps should have been more conservative in rationing it out. Brand and Sieghard seemed to be sweating far less than him; it hardly seemed fair.

Down at the bottom of the slope, he could see where the road entered the Karst. Here and there, it came back into view, arching over crags and ridges like a hump-backed serpent. There seemed an awful lot of uphill walking still ahead, considering how much higher they were now than where they aimed to end. At least the rocks of the Karst would offer some shade. Of course, they would also offer great cover for anyone lying in wait...

OOC: Any precautions you want to take before entering the Karst?

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

After getting out of sight of Elmridge, Sieghard gives the other three 10s each from the money Jager gave him.

------

Sieghard turns to his companions with a scowl as Karl rides past in his cart.

"Which one of you idiots went to talk to him? Looks pretty damn likely he was headed the same way."

He's starting to regret not having pocketed the entire 2 gold crown payment for himself.

------

Before entering the Karst, Sieghard readies and loads his crossbow, taking Jager's warning to heart.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert, who only had his smallsword glances wistfully at Sieghard's crossbow. The scribe had never fired such a weapon in his entire life but having fought an enemy close up he envied the ability to deal damage at a distance.

Having pocketed his wages from Jager the scribe had begun the journey in good spirits. If anything part of him was curious to see what the Black Karst actually looked like. A few hours of walking in the heat cured him of that curiosity.

He bites back an angry retort at Sieghard and with a hand shading his eyes peers off into the distance. "Does anything live in this place?"/COLOR] He pauses before ammending: [COLOR="Blue"]"Or anyone?"

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa was none too keen on staying at the tavern in the company of Jager, and the village itself was of little or no interest to an Altdorf native. She needed to stretch her legs a bit. When she was done eating, she packed her possessions into her backpack and made her way to the edge of the forest, the one that would soon be cut down on the Duke's orders. Once in a while she glanced at her charcoal map and compared it with what she saw; trying to determine the size of the forest, pinpoint some useful landmarks such as mountains and see if there were woodsmen's trails or anything of the sort.

The wilds were still something exotic to her.

Do I need spoiler tags from now on?

[LCP]

Elsa

The concept of an accurate scale was not something that Heloise's map was familiar with. She had marked it on the map as a scribbled blot, with some crudely-drawn trees in the centre to denote what it was. Any trails through the woods were clearly far beyond the level of detail Elsa's pfennigs had bought her.

Looking up from the peasant's scrawl at the edge of the woods, Elsa squinted at the wall of trees. There was a fringe of stumps and young growth where the inhabitants of Elmridge had traditionally worked the forest, and from the edges of those shallow bites, she thought she could see the beginning of a boar-trail or two. Where the tracks led, who knew?

OOC: Yes, spoiler time.

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

"I might have been able to manage to go on that thing had those barrels been empty, but not with the piss in them right now." Wolfgang responded, feeling weirdly hostile.

He wiped his brow repeatedly, but otherwise simply went forwards, having left his axe behind, having developed a sense of revilement over the thing.

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa

Elsa's curiosity was drawn to the forest these people were so determined to protect. It looked certainly more ancient than the woods near Altdorf, which were cut down every generation or so. Before venturing further, she paused to open her witchsight, trying to find a direction or pattern to the winds of magic in the area.

What I'm trying to do may be stretching the possibilities of Magical Sense: I want to navigate by the winds of magic. If, say, they blow consistently from the north, they can act as the needle of a compass. I know we wouldn't want to cheapen the Navigation skill, so I'm not expecting my method (if it's at all acceptable) to be much more reliable than uneducated guesswork. The Winds are notoriously fickle.

I'll let you roll all appropriate tests in secret, provided you allow me to use Magical Sense in this way.

She started to follow one of the boar trails, deliberately stepping in mud or soft earth wherever she could so she could retrace her own steps if she got lost. Wherever she went more than a few yards without managing to leave visible tracks, she carved an X with her knife on a nearby tree.

But even her marks would not be visible for long once night fell, so she resolved to keep an eye on the sun to make sure she was back to Elmridge by mid-afternoon.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard turns his scowl towards Wolfgang

"Aye, because walking is so much better than having to sit next to a few barrels of piss-ale."

[LCP]

Adelbert, Brand, Sieghard & Wolfgang

Proceeding more slowly now that the mercenary carried his crossbow in readiness, the four of them picked their way down the stony slope into the Karst. The jagged rocks rose up like walls around them, the sun beating straight down with the heat of an oven.

It was an hour or more until the sun began to sink from its zenith, but the passages between the crags were so narrow that even that was enough to plunge the road into shadow. An insistent hunger now gnawing at his stomach, Adelbert decided this was at least better than toiling in the heat.

They passed through a copse of dry, scrubby trees that clung to the sides of two great rocks. A wild goat, shaggy and filthy, watched them from a high crag as they emerged from the trees. As soon as Sieghard returned its gaze, it turned and scampered away, sending a bouncing stream of loose rocks and pebbles rolling down the slope behind it.

Descending into another rolling chasm between two walls of rock, Sieghard was just beginning to wonder when the towers of Hartmut's Fall should be coming into view when he heard a crack from somewhere high overhead. The sound echoed endlessly between the crags, fading slowly away into nothingness. Looking up in the direction it had come, the mercenary's eyes widened as he saw a great boulder slowly topple from its perch, beginning to roll ever more quickly down the sides of the crag towards them. As it came, it smashed smaller stones from their resting places, a curtain of smaller debris sweeping down behind it...

OOC: Everyone take an Agility test (at +30) to avoid the rockfall. Also, Perception checks please. This is a sight-based test.

1

Elsa

The forest was thick, but thanks to the time of year, the branches were bare – a reasonable amount of sunlight still reached the forest floor. Elsa could sense that these woods had magic of their own, the lazy currents of Ghyran curling and dripping between the trees. Her perception of such other winds was poor, but above the canopy she could sense the thin presence of her own wind, the hot wind of Aqshy blowing down out of the north. It was weak here, stroking the treetops with insubstantial, hungry fingers as it dreamed of the day when the forests of the Old World would be fuel for its fires.

Following the boar-trail into the woods, Elsa did her best to keep an eye on the position of the sun. The ground was dry, and the track forked, winding deeper into a carpet of hardy undergrowth. She wondered idly what she would do if she actually met a boar. It would probably make better eating than whatever it was that Lagnier put in his 'meat' pies.

A jay was watching her from an overhanging branch when she came to a halt, squinting up at the latticework of branches between her and the sky. By the way the shadows were shortening, it had to be coming up to noon. Her stomach was grumbling, which seemed like a good indicator to turn back.

Concentrating, she tried to focus on the flow of the red wind overhead. She could scarcely sense it here, smothered as she was in the blanket of the old forest, but she thought she caught a few strands, rushing hurriedly overhead.

There was something wrong with her bearings. You kept the sun on your right, didn't you? The direction of the Aethyric wind didn't seem to correspond to how it had been before. Looking round herself in a full circle, Elsa saw nothing but trees, stretching away in every direction. With her Aethyric senses straining, something seemed to gnaw at the corners of her mind, a creeping, niggling sense of oppression. Perhaps it was just her nerves.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert went pale at the sight of the boulder and instinctively jumped to the side, heedless of the juddering pain in his leg as he tried to get away from certain death.

OOC:
Agility: [roll0]
Perception: [roll1]

Adelbert has an Agility of 40 and an Intelligence of 41 (and the Perception skill.)

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang


Wolfgang stewed, his mood unhelped by the conditions. The rumbling of falling stones slipped into his notice late, and he barely moved himself out of the way before they tumbled down.

OOC:
[roll0] vs. Agility of 36 + 30
[roll1] vs. Intelligence of 40

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa

Elsa's pride would not allow her to turn back just because she had a bad feeling, but thankfully there was her hunger - plus the fact that it was now midday - to give her an excuse. She had bought some rations yesterday, but better keep them for when she really needed them, far away from any settlements.

This place was just trees anyway. There was no reason for the people here to be so fond of it, except as a source of wood. For the first time, Elsa wondered if the man who had escaped execution yesterday was still hiding in these parts.

She tried to regain her bearings, but Aqshy's flow was inconsistent. So much for using the Winds for navigation; they varied just as much as actual winds, anyway, so relying on them had been stupid. Taking a quick gulp from her bottle of spirits, she turned back the way she had come, her eyes on the ground in search of her own footprints.

[LCP]

Elsa

The ground was too hard and dry to have taken footprints well - clearly there had been no rain for some time. She was forced to rely on the marks she had cut onto the larger trees she had passed, which made for slow going, racking her memory to identify which tree was the next step at each stage of the chain, before circling the leaning trunks to find the marks. The damned trees all looked the same.

It was late afternoon by the time she got back, but even before she reached the edge of the woods, she felt the sense of unease lifting. It was good just to see the trees thinning out, to know that one wasn't so deep in their whispering ranks that no-one would ever hear you if you called, or find you if you fell. At least, that seemed the best rationalisation of her feelings. Whatever the intangible sense of wrongness she had felt had been, it was gone: past the edge of the forest, the primitive buildings of Elmridge stretched out ahead of her.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard surpresses the urge to swear loudly - thus giving away their position to anything around - and attempts to get out of the path of the rockfall.

[roll0] (vs Agi 37+30)
[roll1] (vs Int 36)

[C.J.Geringer]

Brand narrowly escapes the rock, he than draws his axes while scanning to see what caused the rock fall, certain someone wants them dead.

[LCP]

Adelbert, Brand, Sieghard & Wolfgang

The party scattered out of the path of the tumbling rockslide. His injured leg slowing him down, Adelbert only barely made it out of the path of the great rock that led the way. The ox-sized boulder bowled past inches from the scholar's face, smashing against the rockface far behind with a sound like thunder.

When it came to the wave of debris sweeping down in its wake, Adelbert was less fortunate. A sharp hail of stones and loose dirt enveloped him, cutting slices out of his clothes and caking him in dust: a fist-sized rock glanced off his temple, drawing blood.

The others had got clear earlier, and avoided the wash of falling rocks. Squinting up the slope in the direction the rockslide had come from, both Sieghard and Brand could have sworn they saw the distant silhouette of a human head bob up, then vanish below the line of the stony ridge.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"Close one... Damn goat must've knocked a few rocks loose."

He loweres his voice to a whisper.

"Carry one as before. Someone pushed those rocks. Don't let them know we're on to them and keep on your guard."

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

With his hankerchief clamped to his forehead and rapidly being stained red Adelbert can do little more than nod at Sieghard's words. The scribe looks shakey and pale but after a moment he is able to stumble on.

[C.J.Geringer]

Brand sheaths one of his axes, and pretending to have hurt his leg, goes on using the other one as a walking stick

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

Wolfgang nodded gently, hopefully too subtly for someone farther away to notice, before continuing, not needing to act the slight shaking from having come so close to being hit.

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa

Elsa exhaled in relief when she saw Elmridge again. Why was she so nervous today? Were the wilds always so oppressive, or was it something a good drink could fix? Mere minutes later, she was inwardly berating herself for turning back so easily. If she hoped to make it in the 'Princes, she had to get used to the loneliness of the outdoors. Let it not be said that Lady Elsabeth Holt of Altdorf was afraid of some empty woods; forests should fear Bright Wizards, not the other way around.

Still, maybe she should have gone to Marienburg instead. A large city was just as good to hide in as a barely-inhabited wasteland.

She made a beeline towards the village elder's former house to see if Flitch had already settled there. She needed to know if the man really believed Jager's promise, and if so, to shake some sense into him. Country people may be all honest and truthful and all those admirable traditional values, but this also made them woefully naïve compared to city folks.

[LCP]

Adelbert, Brand, Sieghard & Wolfgang

Sticking close together, the four of them forged ahead, watching every shadow and rocky pinnacle. For the moment, no more boulders came crashing down.

As the sun sank in the west and the long shadows lengthened, the Karst seemed to take on a more sinister aspect. Where the path between the crags narrowed, they walked in darkness, emerging into patches of harsh sunlight with blinking eyes. Lit from one side like a cathedral gargoyle, a black kite watched them from a stub of limestone, occasionally dropping its head to tear at the body of a small snake it had caught in its claws.

At last, when it seemed the sun might sink for good, Hartmut's Fall came into view.


http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v700/LordChilipepa/Hartmuts_Fall_zps289783a4.png

Sitting on a low ridge of rocks above a sparsely-wooded clearing in the Karst, the fortress could almost have been mistaken for another rock formation. Its walls were built of the same sooty stone, and had the same jagged irregularity: dreadful scars and breaches marred their defensive curtain, great slopes of rubble infill slanting down from where some great violence had smashed them open. They had clearly stood like this for some time: weeds grew in the rubble, and the edges of the broken stones were rounded and weathered.

Over the shattered gatehouse, a faded banner flapped in the rising breeze: a gold boar's head on an azure field. A fire-scarred stone bridge stretched over a shallow chasm in the rocks up to the gates, which stood open. The heads of two sentries were just visible over the crumbled ramparts, looking down on the approach.

At this end of the bridge, a crude wooden post had been hammered into the ground. Tied to it, a human figure hung with its head slumped to one side. Approaching closer, Wolfgang could see that the man - or woman - was long dead, the body little more than bones. Around its neck, a wooden placard had been hung, daubed with a single word:


THEYF

1

Elsa

Flitch was not to be found at the elder's house. He and a few other villagers - mostly men - were gathered together beyond the ditch that encircled the village, gesturing to the southern edge of the forest and talking among themselves. It looked like they were making plans for where to begin appeasing the duke's demands for timber: she saw Jager standing a little way off from the main group, listening in silence to their discussion.

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa

Elsa strolled over to the men, confident that she was not more unwelcome among them than Jager. Let the Duke's faithful hound think what he would of her presence here.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert raised an eyebrow at the body, but he didn't swoon. Sheltered scribe he might have been but he was still from the Empire and Imperial justice rarely held mercy a virtue. Besides he had other things on his mind - the lump on his temple was swelling painfully and his leg felt very stiff. Please gods let this dismal place have somehere to rest up and heal.

Licking dry lips he hailed the sentries: "We come from Elmridge. Eugen Jager sent us!"

[LCP]

Elsa

"...so if we fell 'em along the edge of the road, it'll save time bringin' 'em in. That's safe ground, anyway. People are already goin' to an' fro that way."

The man who was speaking trailed off as Elsa approached, looking askance at the mage. Elsa could see Jager watching her like a baker watching a halfling in his shop.

1

Adelbert & co.

Leaning out over the ramparts, one of the sentries looked down at Adelbert and his companions. Glancing back, he said something to his companion that distance made inaudible.

"What did he send you for?" the sentry called back. Faint echoes of the shouted question repeated off the surrounding rocks.

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa

Elsa put on a quick, innocent smile that showed off her dimples. "I'm afraid it's a Jade wizard you'd need for this kind of advice," she apologized, pretending to misinterpret the silence her arrival had caused. "Do go on... I may not know everything, but I'd like to fix that."

She carefully avoided giving Jager any attention.

[LCP]

Elsa

The villagers looked at each other, not sure what to make of Elsa's statement. Jager just glowered straight at her.

"This has got nothing to do with you, witch," he said. "Clear out."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"Got a message from Herr Jager. Who commands here? It's for his ears only by Herr Jager's orders."

Sieghard shouts back to the sentry.

(Sieghard of course already knows the commander is named Marat. He's just being cautious.)

[LCP]

Sieghard & co.

The sentries looked at each other. One of them seemed to shrug.

"Sergeant Marat commands here!" called back the first man. He gestured to the open gates below. "Come through!"

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa

There was a beat as Elsa considered her options - ignoring Jager was no longer one of them. She ruled out a violent backlash: the man had no magic, so it just wouldn't be a fair fight. A safer response would be a witty remark, preferably about Jager's parentage, but she had none on her lips at the moment. Or there was still the simple, defiant reply to any command: Make me.

No more recklessness, she told herself firmly. It's what got you on the run from the Colleges in the first place.

"I'm... aware we started off on the wrong foot, Mr Jager," she said placatingly. It felt like biting into a lemon. "Yesterday I spoke after seeing only one side of the coin; that side being the botched execution of a man I thought was innocent. I forgot my duty as a representative of both my College and the Emperor, and in so doing, I tarnished the reputation of the Bright Order. I'm not in these parts to meddle in local politics, but to gather and impart knowledge... which, I assure you, is what I'll do from now on. All apologies for my presumption."

Jager may interrupt at any point. Elsa's little speech got longer than I expected.

Now I see what happens when you piss off the main source of plot in the area: you get locked out of the loop. :smalltongue:

[LCP]

Elsa

"'Gather knowledge'," said Jager. "Is that so."

"Bit of an out of the way place for a wizard to be studying," he said. "What's the knowledge you were looking to find, then? How to whittle?"

Some of the peasants sniggered, despite themselves. Jager narrowed his eyes at Elsa.

"Why don't you hop on back to Savonne and tell your master what knowledge you've 'gathered'." He took a step closer, cocking his head slightly to one side. "Or is there another reason why there's a fire wizard hanging around the duke's forest?"

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa

Elsa suppressed a snicker. Really? Was that what he suspected she was here for?

"Well, if I were here to cause trouble, mister, I'd travel incognito. My master's in Altdorf, not Savonne, and he has better things to worry about than some lordling's wood supply," she snorted, slipping back into her natural insolence. "Like mapping the Aethyric currents over the northern 'Princes for the lord of Savonne, which is what I'm doing. I could share my findings with your duke as well, if he's interested."

She was not a very good liar, but she knew Jager would not believe her even if she were.

[LCP]

Elsa

"For the lord of Savonne, is it?" said Jager. He smiled like a wolf.

"Grab her," he said. The villagers gave him a hesitant look.

"What, us?"

"You heard her. She's working for the elf!"

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard nods and walks through, waiting to be led to Marat. Though things are going fine so far, he still keeps his eyes open for anything that seems out of place.

[LCP]

Sieghard & co.

Despite the gatehouse's ruinous state, the gates themselves were tall and strong. Their iron fittings were battered and dented, but the blackened oak beams of the doors themselves had not been broken. Looking at the stunted, scrawny trees that grew in the shallow soil of the Karst, Brand knew at a glance that these gates could not have been made from local timber.

On the other side of the gatehouse, a group of four soldiers in chainmail and kettle helms were slouching in the shade of a tatty awning. They appeared to be placing bets on a pair of fat black beetles who were bumbling along a tiny racetrack that had been scratched in the dry earth. When they saw the newcomers, they turned away from their diversion, shouldering their spears and trying to look soldierly.

“Messengers for the sergeant!” called down one of the sentries from the tower. “Take 'em along to Marat.”

The oldest of the soldiers – a man with a face full of grimy stubble and a long scar over one milky eye – looked Sieghard and the others up and down. Sucking his teeth, he nodded.

“Look like you've been dragged here behind a horse,” he said to Adelbert, in harsh, slightly broken Reikspiel. “Come on. With me.”

Inside the tumbledown walls of the fortress, hovels and shacks crouched like feral animals, huddling against the shelter of the curtain wall. Every sign of industry that Adelbert could see was one that would serve the garrison. There was a small smithy, weapons and armour hanging on racks around the forge; a stone-walled grain store and a paltry-looking stable. The peasants he could see were a wiry, fearful-looking lot, much more deferent than the woodsmen of Elmridge. When they saw the party passing with their military guide, they tugged their forelocks and lowered their heads in submission.

They passed a cramped paddock of sheep and goats, crammed in together like sardines in a can. A peasant watched over them from the toppled wall of a smashed cottage, blackened beams protruding from what had once been the roof like the ribs of a great skeleton. Like the fortress walls, the damage had been done long ago: for some reason, it had never been repaired.

Rising above the narrow streets, the central keep loomed over the fortress village like the broken tooth of a giant. Although it had escaped the same damage as the walls, it was not unscathed: its walls were marked as if by fire, and many of its battlements were fractured and broken. An iron cage hung from a gibbet over its main gates, in which Wolfgang could see a pile of brown and ancient bones. They might once have formed a skeleton, but the gristle and ligaments that would have articulated them had long since rotted away to dust: now they formed nothing but a shapeless jumble. The thief thought he could see a skull in there, grinning down at him.

The interior of the keep was sparse and dark, its thick stone walls bare of any decoration. The main hall was floored with rushes, and a large man was counting coins with a smaller man in front of a large, unlit fireplace. The stones of the fireplace had once been carved with some heraldic crest, but the design had been struck off with a chisel.

As they approached the table on which the men were counting money, the big man looked up. The party's guide gave a rushed salute.

“Sergeant Marat!” he said. “These men say they've got a message from Eugen Jager. Sir.”

Sergeant Marat inspected the newcomers. He himself was a broad-shouldered bear of a man, with the beginnings of a gut. His squared-off jaw was covered by a short but bristly beard – already going to grey – and his left hand was missing two fingers, a gnarled scar running deep into his palm. Like the soldiers, he wore a mail shirt, and Sieghard immediately noted the heavy-looking sword at his belt.

“Well?” he asked, gruffly. He spoke Reikspiel with traces of a Bretonnian accent, stressing the wrong syllable from time to time. “What is the message?”

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa

Ah, so he does believe me after all. Wonderful.

Elsa stood her ground, but her gloved hands tightened around her staff. She could not afford to show fear. The villagers had little idea of the power of a wizard; for all they knew, she could incinerate them all on the spot. She did not want to dispel that belief.

"For Sigmar's sake, it's just business, not politics," she said, going for a contemptuous tone. "The Lord of Savonne pays, we deliver. What do we care about your little wars?"

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"Bit of unrest in Elmridge."

Sieghard replies.

"The villagers are behind on the Duke's lumber. A few of them even have it in mind that they can do without the Duke. Herr Jager needs men to make sure they keep working and to keep the troublemakers in check. He requests a dozen good men and a horse to replace the one that bolted when a few of the villagers got too bold for their own good."

[LCP]

Elsa

The villagers kept a respectful distance, but as soon as Elsa raised her staff, Jager's sword was in his hand. He held out the point towards her.


"For Sigmar's sake, it's just business, not politics," she said, going for a contemptuous tone. "The Lord of Savonne pays, we deliver. What do we care about your little wars?"

"Oh, that's alright then," said Jager, the sword not moving an inch. "Suppose I'll just let you go now." He paused. "You know, as spies go, I'd say you're about as clever as an ogre with a head injury."

He took a step forwards, sword outstretched.

"Drop the stick."

1

Sieghard & co.

Marat looked up at Sieghard, not bothering to rise from his seat on the bench.

"And how do I know Jager sent you?" he asked. "How do I know you don't have a dozen of your friends, lying in wait out on the Elmridge road for my men to leave the castle?" He gave Sieghard a scrutinising squint. "This time of year, there's a lot of people wouldn't say no to a bit of fresh horsemeat. Lot of people who wouldn't mind helping themselves to a bit of the Duke's steel, either."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard matches Marat's gaze trying not to show any hesitation.

"He wanted me to remind you of Grey Fang."

[LCP]

Sieghard & co.

Marat stared at the mercenary in silence. The seconds drew on, and Sieghard wondered whether he had said something wrong. Then the sergeant barked a short, explosive laugh.

"Hah!" he said. "Young devil. Fair enough, then. A dozen men and a horse, was it?" He shook his head. "Man thinks I'm made of horses. I'll give him ten men. Schreub, how many horses do we have?"

"Seven, sir."

"Seven." Marat furrowed his brow, looking down at his scarred hand. "Alright then. Give him the Bastard. If he can ride that one, it'll be doing more good than it's doing here. The men'll have to lead it on foot anyway." The man Schreub nodded. "Five archers and five spearmen. That's all we can spare."

Marat looked back at Sieghard and the others. "What're your names?"

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa

Elsa's resolution to be more cautious flew right out the window. She flashed Jager a toothy grin. "See if you can take it from me."

Initiative: [roll0]

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Though he trys to keep his experssion the same, Sieghard is quite relieved when Marat breaks the silence.

"Sieghard. And a word of caution... There were some men on the road trying to crush travelers by pushing boulders down the crag. Ten armed men aren't likely to have as much trouble as we did, but nothing lost by keeping on guard."

He replies, gesturing towards Adelbert's head wound.

[LCP]

Sieghard & co.

"Aye, there is always some jackal waiting on the roads. No honest living to be made in these rocks, so they settle for robbing people." Marat gave a grave nod. "You'll have seen one of them rotting outside the gates."

"You should get that seen to," he said, turning to Adelbert. "Ortholf is our surgeon here, he'll see you right. We'll send Jager his men at first light."

1

Elsa

Jager didn't need any further encouragement. With a whisper of parting air, the sword flew into motion. Elsa caught the blade on her staff, the edge biting into the carved wood with a dull thok.

OOC: I won't use a map: the two of you are in contact from the get-go.

Jager wins initiative and does a Swift Attack. From previous posts I will treat Elsa as already having a Parrying Stance prepared.

[roll0] - hit (parried - see below)
[roll1]

[roll2] - miss
[roll3]

[roll4]

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa

With a hand gesture as dramatic as it was useless (wizards had to have style), Elsa shouted the words to call forth a sudden, heartbeat-long burst of cold flames around Jager's sword, hoping to startle him into dropping it.

Drop, target 4: [roll0] - Crud, I'll test WP in the OOC thread.
Jager's WP: [roll1]

If successful, I'll grab the fallen sword with my other half action. (Is it possible without dropping the staff? The staff is two-handed, but I only want to hold it, not wield it.)

The winds slipped out of her grasp like a wet soap.

[LCP]

Elsa

It seemed there was a purpose to all that tedious book-learning Elsa's College masters had tried in vain to focus her attention on. Under pressure, the spell slipped malformed from her grasp, and it was only by a supreme effort of will that she stopped the magical backlash burning through her mind.

Jager had no such concerns. As the peasants shrank back from Elsa's theatrical hand gesture, the duke's man pressed forwards, his sword slashing out with deadly speed. A frantic swing of the staff managed to deflect his first strike, but the second stabbed deep into the muscle of her left arm. Drawing the blood-slick weapon free, Jager pressed his advantage. Elsa's arm hung uselessly, blood soaking outward from the deep wound.

OOC: Swift Attack again.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[roll2]
[roll3]


(Is it possible without dropping the staff? The staff is two-handed, but I only want to hold it, not wield it.)

Yeah, I'm fine with that.

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa

The surprise registered before the pain. Elsa had never duelled a mundane person before and could not have expected such resistance. Before she knew it, her staff dropped to the ground, suddenly heavier than she remembered it to be; it appeared that the muscles in her left arm had stopped functioning. For a brief moment, her pride, hurt more deeply than her arm, battled with her survival instinct. Could she let herself be defeated by a mere sword?

But then again, many Bright Order duellists prided themselves on being graceful losers...

Ignoring the pain, Elsa put on a smile and made an extravagant bow. "So you can take my staff from me. I'm most impressed, Mr Jager." She drew back a few steps. "That makes it yours by College tradition."

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

"I'm Adelbert Schreiber, late of Averland." Adelbert introduced himself. The scribe looked grateful at the idea of getting his wounds looked at even though Ortholf didn't sound much like the fair, gentle priestess of Shaylla he had been hoping for. Still he nodded in thanks.

"I'm passing on through to Alvarran, is the east road haunted by more of the same jackals?"

[LCP]

Adelbert & co.

"Aye. This is good territory for bandits. Easy to hide in." Marat cleared his throat noisily. "One of the reason the duke posts us out here, to make sure the badlanders are kept under control."

1

Elsa

Jager ignored the staff, closing the distance between them and holding his sword out towards her throat.

"Grab her," he repeated to the villagers. This time, they made to obey - the swordsman seemed to have proven himself stronger than the mage. "Tie her up and stick something in that flapping mouth. I'm tired of hearing her talk."

OOC: I interpret your last post as a Disengage and some Free Action chit-chat. Jager makes a Full Move to put himself back in contact.

Are you going to resist the villagers?

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa

Elsa threw a quick glance over her shoulder, trying to evaluate her odds of escaping. She could run fast if she wanted to, but she dared not turn her back on Jager. Plus, running away was rather unbecoming of a Bright wizard.

No matter. Escaping would not be so hard; they could not keep their guard up forever, and if they wanted to execute her they would not run the risk of capturing her alive. Elsa just hoped her little lie had not inadvertently caused a war.

She took a quick gulp from her bottle of spirits before they could take it away from her.

[LCP]

Elsa

A hand grabbed Elsa's wrist as she reached for the flask. Who knew what they thought she was reaching for? In the hands of a wizard, even a seemingly innocuous object could be the catalyst for some fearful magic. The villagers were taking no chances.

Flitch, Elsa noticed, didn't look too comfortable. He hardly seemed concerned for her welfare - but Jager had taken command of the situation with a natural authority. If people were going to start taking Jager's orders without question, that didn't bode too well for the self-appointed middleman.

They had nothing on them with which to bind Elsa's hands, and so they dragged her back to the village. Tying her hands behind her back with a twist of coarse rope, at Jager's insistence they stuffed a ball of rags in her mouth as well. Looking over towards the Wych Elm, Jager gave a nod.

"Your innkeeper got a cellar?"

"Lagnier?" replied one of the villagers. "Aye, he does."

"Sling her down there," said Jager. "And leave someone on watch." He paused, shooting a sideways glance at Flitch. "I'll take her with me when I leave."

[C.J.Geringer]

Brand:

"I am Brand, just a guide I will go with herr Schreiber "

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

Adelbert nods thoughtfully. "I see... well good to know to watch ourselves. Is there an inn here or room in the keep for us?"

[LCP]

Adelbert & co.

"You can stay here at the keep for the night," said Marat. "Of course if you'd rather not, you can use one of the empty houses. A bit more room that way, but they do get cold after dark."

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa


If people were going to start taking Jager's orders without question, that didn't bode too well for [Flitch].
Elsa noticed the expression on Flitch's face and raised her eyebrow in a silent I-told-you-so, unsure if the man would catch her look. Served him well. By now she was not so sure these people would stand up and fight when the Duke's men arrived, and it was no longer her problem.

She did her best not to wince when they grabbed her wounded left arm. Just to annoy her captors and keep her mind off her injury, she began to whistle the Reiksmarshall's March on the way back to the village, a calculated look of boredom on her face. They finally cut her off at the fourth stanza when they found a rag to stuff into her mouth.

So they would put her in the cellar... She supposed there were worse places to be kept in.

[Sodalite]

Wolfgang

"I think I'd rather spend my night in one the houses." He said suddenly, and somewhat out of turn. He didn't think his face was known this far west, but he'd rather not take a chance.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard spares Wolfgang a confused glance.

"No one here is going to care about what happened with the old man..."

He turns back to Marat.

"We appreciate your generosity. We won't trouble you long. Unless you have reason for us to stay, we'll likely only stay a night or two."

He pauses a moment.

"Herr Jager also mentioned that we could expect payment upon delivering his message. A bit of coin for good work done in service to the Duke."

[LCP]

Adelbert, Sieghard, Wolfgang & Brand

"Oh, he did, did he?" Marat raised a skeptical eyebrow at Sieghard. "How much did he say?"

1

Elsa

Lagnier's inn did indeed have a cellar, into which Elsa was unceremoniously dumped. It was nothing like the vaulted stone undercrofts of the colleges - just a roughly rectangular space dug out from the packed earth under the Wych Elm's floor. There was barely enough space for Elsa to sit upright, let alone stand.

"Set a guard," she heard Jager's voice drift down from above the trapdoor. There was a slam, and the light of the open hatch disappeared. She heard the voices, muffled now, moving away.

"Remember, she's a witch. Don't you take that gag out for anything."
"What if she needs a drink?"
"That's her problem..."

Hands tied awkwardly behind her back, the foul taste of the gag soiling her tongue, Elsa looked around, her eyes just beginning to adjust to the darkness. The cellar was practically bare: there were just a few signs, here and there, that this was where the ale Karl had taken had been stored.

In one corner, something moved. It was a rat, large and bristly. Its gleaming eyes took one look at Elsa, and it vanished swiftly into its hole.

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa

With nothing else to do, Elsa spent the rest of her waking time moving her right wrist, trying to loosen the knots; not enough to wiggle out of her bonds here and now, as they would only tie her up tighter when they found out, but hopefully enough that she could free herself in less than a minute if and when an opportunity to escape arose. The wounded arm made any movement difficult. They had not even tried to stop the bleeding, and she knew her shirt was ruined.

She was not even sure an escape attempt would be wise - perhaps she could still talk her way out. But she felt much more comfortable with several options still open to her. She was an improviser, not a planner.

In spite of herself, she began chuckling inside her gag over the escalating absurdity of the situation. Had she walked into Savonne claiming to be a representative of the Colleges seeking to lend her help to the lord, she would most likely have been dismissed as a con woman. But here, Jager believed her at once with no proof whatsoever - she had not cast a single spell and did not have a magic license. And a spy? Dwarfs made better ballet dancers than Bright Wizards made spies.

Well, life outside Altdorf sure proved more interesting than Elsa's studies. Her predicament was bad, but she would not go back to the Bright College for all the world. This was like a novel or play, and she was the main character.

I'll make it out, one way or another. Because I'm Elsabeth Holt.

OOC:
I'll do nothing more except wait for the next time-skip.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"Three crowns each."

If Marat seems to have a problem with this amount, Sieghard adds

"Though we'll consider Ortholf's services and our place to sleep as part of our payment."

(It seems he did not)

[LCP]

Sieghard & co.

Marat looked hard at Sieghard.

"Damn man thinks I'm made of money, too." He shook his head. "Well, if that's what Jager said, I'll not make him an oathbreaker. And if it isn't, you lads had best be far away by the time I see him next, if you know what's good for you." He jerked his head in the direction of his associate. "Schreub! Pay the man."

Nodding obediently, the man counted out their payment from the coins he had been shuffling on the battered table.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard nods and takes the money.

"It was Herr Jager's oath, not yours, so he has no grounds to complain if you ask him to pay you back."

(Unless anyone else has anything to say to him, Sieghard is done talking to Marat. If someone else wants to say/do something, he'll stick around a bit longer, but if not, Sieghard says...)

"We thank you for your time, Herr Marat. Unless you need us for something, we won't be taking up any more of it."

Sieghard then leaves keep. Once outside, he gives the rest their share of the gold.

"Get some rest tonight. If it's Alvarran we're headed to, we aren't likely to make it there in a day."

(Sieghard is probably getting hungry about now. He had that bread on the road, but I bet a proper meal sounds good. Soon as we're finished with Marat, he's off to look for somewhere he can (hopefully) get something decent to eat and better ale than the piss Lagnier served)

[LCP]

Adelbert, Brand, Sieghard & Wolfgang

Marat bid them goodbye in an abrupt, business-like manner, turning back to whatever accounts had been holding his attention before their arrival. The thin man named Schreub stood up and excused himself from the table, sidling off into the shadows of the keep. Wolfgang had the impression that the old fort must have a rat's-nest of smaller rooms and galleries branching off from this main hall.

Outside, the town went about its business, if it could be called a town - or business. Everything existed to serve the fortifications; where it did not, old houses had been left abandoned, either gutted by some long-forgotten fire or slowly succumbing to the elements. A few of the more badly-damaged buildings were being used as paddocks, the stubs of their stone walls making strong fences to keep in the fractious goats that seemed to be the only livestock that would tolerate the local terrain.

Hartmut's Fall being what it was, finding food for hungry travellers was not quite as simple as it had been in Elmridge. There was no tavern with a convenient sign, no tell-tale lights in the windows of one particular building. Over in the shadow of the wall, Sieghard could see a gaggle of men - sentries? - clustered around what looked like a cooking fire, laughing and joking among themselves. Smoke was rising from the ramshackle chimneys of a few of the peasants' houses, and from some hidden aperture in the top of the keep itself, trailing away against the darkening sky in a thin line of ragged white.

It seemed they would either have to impose themselves on someone's company - perhaps fall back on the charity of Sergeant Marat - or make arrangements to do their own cooking. From one of the razed houses, a paltry herd of goats watched the hungry men with wary eyes.

OOC: If you want to join the sentries, make a Gossip Test at +10 to see if you can get them to like you enough to share. If you want to join some peasant family's dinner, you can make a Charm test and/or an Intimidate test (the latter at +20). You will not require any test to go back and eat in the keep's kitchen but the food won't be very nice.

I don't think anyone wants to spend too long hashing out eating arrangements, so please feel free to give me your actions for the next morning as well if you feel you have nothing more to do in between.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

"I'll see if can see Ortholf this evening." The scribe grimaces as a picture of the rough and ready healing he can picture the sawbones applying. "Better to get it over and done with. I'll see about eating later but if I miss you I guess we'll meet up in the morning. Hatmut's Folly doesn't strike me as the place anyone spends more time in than they can help."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard approaches the sentries.

"Room for one more by your fire?"

[roll0]
(Fel: 29 +10 for test for test difficulty and +10 for mastery = 49 or less to pass

[LCP]

Adelbert, Brand, Sieghard and Wolfgang.

The sentries around the campfire sized Sieghard up with a certain caution, but seemed friendly enough once their assessment had been made. They were roasting a leg of goat, the scraps of which they seemed happy enough to share. As the sun sunk below the level of the rocks, one of them produced a pack of dog-eared cards, the soldiers playing for coppers until the night got too cold not to put on gloves.

OOC: Anyone who wants to join in the card game (and possibly win - or lose - some money) can do so with a Gamble check. If you have any questions you want to ask the soldiers in conversation, feel free to give them to me as a list: the success of Sieghard's Gossip check will be carried forwards.

Meanwhile, Adelbert headed out in search of Ortholf. Having to ask directions more than a couple of times to navigate through the cramped streets, he finally found his way to a rather ramshackle building with its back to the western wall, near where a set of stone steps descended from the broken ramparts.

The barber-surgeon's lair was built mostly from old timber, and age and the elements had not been kind to it: the beams were cracked and warped, the structural integrity of the walls shored up with more recent additions of crumbling plaster. A faded pennant hung over the door, bearing the golden boar of Duke Alvarr. Wrapped around the shaft that supported it was a white bandage, the symbol of the surgeon's trade.

Inside, the low roof pressed down like the hold of a ship over a broad room. A large table, sturdy enough to support the weight of a large man and with deep scars in its surface, stood in the centre of the earthen floor. An ominous little gutter had been dug around it, running off into a wooden drainage chute. From a rack on wall, an assembly of barbarous hacksaws and other, less nameable tools dangled menacingly. In an adjacent corner sat a jumble of boxes and barrels, some open, some empty. Some of them were stamped with the crude imprint of a boar. Among their contents, Adelbert could see glass bottles and rolls of bandages.

There was a hearth in the other corner, with an iron pot hanging over the fire and a notched sword hung on the wall above. Something was bubbling inside it, being watched by a moon-faced little boy in the dusty clothes of a local. Asleep in a chair behind the boy, a large man with a face full of greying stubble sat with his head lolling back, loud snores sawing from his bulbous nose. There was an empty bottle at his feet, and Adelbert thought he caught the smell of alcohol.

OOC: If he goes with Adelbert, Brand sees all this too.