The Feast Of Hartbruck

[Vetril]

https://pre00.deviantart.net/0f52/th/pre/f/2015/230/3/2/european_medieval_village_by_klauspillon-d9667s2.jpg

It is that time of the year when autumn is almost ready to let the cold in. Brown and yellow leaves are falling from the trees of the forest that surround Hartbruck.
Summer was warm and long, and the villagers took advantage of it.
The harvest was good, and the hunters had a long time to bring back meat to be smoke dried and then stored for preservation. Charcoal mounds have been smoking since the woodcutters came back, and soon Pieter will bring sacks full of black pieces to every villager. Even if most of the food will be taken by the Lord - as tradition dictates - no one will be hungry this winter.
It's been almost a month since the last merchant braved the road that leads to Krugenheim, and the roadwardens often won't be seen for weeks at a time.
That's how it's always been, and the villagers like it this way. People from the outside world often mean trouble. Sometimes, it's not just people that approach Hartbruck, but dangerous monsters and beasts. Still, every talabeclander knows how to use a bow and is more than ready to defend his home, so there's that to consider.
Anyway, no sighting of strange creatures has happened for many, many years, so there is little to worry.
Taal protects his own and have his priests not blessed the hills? Anyone with an ounce of common sense could tell you that is for the best, considering the strange stones that are such a common sight in that area.
The current day is ending, and the celebration will not happen for another day, yet decorations have already been placed all over the place, bringing beautiful colors to the village.
In a couple of days, the lord will come from the manor and announce the beginning of the feast. Boars will roast, music will be played, games will be had, wine will run and - maybe - some couples will be blessed with children.
To contribute, the dwarven community is getting ready to open the new caskets of mead that arrived from Zhufbar earlier this year. No one but them knows where Zhufbar is - or what it is, to be honest - but mead is well known, and that is enough. The dwarves like to celebrate just as everyone else and so the people of Hartbruck will get a chance to taste their brew during the feast.
There are even rumors that master Brunn, the blacksmith, has prepared some scary costume to entertain the children and make the adults laugh.
After a day of hard work, people are gathering at the center of the village. They laugh as they talk and enjoy each other's company. In a village as small as Hartbruck, everyone knows everyone.
You recognize every face as you approach the gathering. Lewin, who works at the lord's mill. Hans and Heinrich, the woodcutters. Little Dieter, running around with Pieter, the kid who helps his father Franz prepare the charcoal. Edel, the youngest daughter of old Wilfram, and the fairest woman of Hartbruck.
Life is hard, yes, but it is good, after all. What else could a man desire?

[dojango]

Heinrich Talbot

Heinrich sat on the stoop of his cottage, carefully carving out a jack o' the lantern to light up for the festival. Next to him sat Beatrix, carefully mending some of their clothes, while Little Markus ran around the cottage, giggling. Every few minutes he would run up to Heinrich and demand, "Uppy, Uppy," and Heinrich would oblige, swinging the child around like a swooping bird. They'd named the kid after Beatrix's father, in hopes of gaining his approval. And it had worked, to some extent, Old Markus doted on the boy, his first grandchild. But this feeling did not extend to Heinrich. Old Markus was one of the lord's chief tenants, having a lease-hold to several large fields on the outskirts of the town.

Heinrich shared the small cottage with Lewin and his family. They all rented the cottage from his lordship, in exchange for their labor. Heinrich had spent the last few weeks helping to bring in the harvest, and then helping to move the sacks of grain down to the mill, where Lewin and the other millers ground it into flour. Now that the harvest was in, the worst of the work was over. Sure, there was always more to be done, but the long days of labor from sun up to sunset were behind them, for now.

Lewin and Heinrich had started idly gossiping about the goings-on in town, but soon they grew bored of such mundane stories, and Heinrich was telling ghost stories. "You ever see one of those lights in the hills, one of the Will o'wisps? Used to see them back at home sometimes... Some people say they're lost souls tryin' to get home, but my da told me that they're old witches and warlocks buried in these hills, and once a year, they get up and cast their strange spells..."

[spinningdice]

Janna had been in Hartbrook for a good six months now, she still wasn't sure if she fit here, or if she would move along soon. She was a passable smith, and didn't mind hard labour, still the village position was precarious enough that the village seemed keen on keeping folk around who knew how to handle themselves, while not bullying their way to whatever they wanted.
It was hardly a life of glorious battle, but a nice enough place to settle for now.

She contents herself to partake of the festivities, and enjoy herself for tonight. Other thoughts could wait for another day.

[Vetril]

Beatrix does not like when Heinrich talks about dead things raising from the grave and well, who could blame her? There have always been tall tales of corpses and ghosts warring against the people that live somewhere in the south, but so close to Hartbruck? Unthinkable.

Still, her uncomfortable silence betrays her apprehension, even though she does her best to focus on the task at hand. Maybe she does not believe everything that Heinrich says, but she believes enough to think about it, at times. The thought of shriveled, rotten and long dead witches and warlocks crawling out of the dirt to stagger towards the village, and into the cottage, where the family lives... For a moment, Beatrix trembles.

Lewin does not notice. He is a strong and big man, and in other times he might have been conscripted in the army. But there is no shortage of soldiers nowadays, and so Lewin is just a miller. He has never been out of the village, and he likes Heinrich's stories of the world that hides beyond the hills. The man listens to him like Marcus does, before he falls asleep.

Out of the blue, the miller asks a question to Heinrich. "Do you think what they say about those rovers and witchery is true?" He leans forward, shifting his considerable weight and pauses for a moment. "I went to the manor yesterday to take the flour, and I talked with Theobald. See, he said there are rovers passing through - just north of here. He said that Hubert warned them to stay away, so we shouldn't worry too much."

Lewin stops again. his eyebrows raising. Quietly, he continues. "Theobald says those rovers are trouble. They steal babies to cast spells so that the harvest will be poor, and that their women can rob a man of his will with nothing but a glance" - at this point, the miller remembers about Beatrix, and looks at her as he continues, almost apologizing - "but only if they can look you straight in the eyes."

The woman laughs. "Theobald said that? And how would he know? He has been the servant of Lord Baldwin since he was a young man, and our Lord - Taal bless him - is not a sage."

It is true. Lord Baldwin is a skilled hunter, like his father before him, but he is not what people call "a learned man". But he is a fair man, if a little stern, and does his best to take care of his people.

Still, Lewin has the answer ready. "Theobald said he read it. In a book! They have books at the manor, and they have written words that explain you this kind of things, and many others!" - the miller says, sounding a little condescending, now that for once he is the one with exclusive knowledge.



On the other side of the village square, past the oak tree that marks the center of Hartbruck, near the brewery and on the way to the Lord's manor, dwarves are still working. Thordek approaches Janna, followed by his brother Smirri.

The two dwarves run the brewery of Hartbruck, even though it is rumored that Smirri knows at least a little about runes. Of course, those are just rumors, and no one in his right mind dares to ask why a runesmith apprentice would live in Hartbruck, brewing alcoholics all day long.

Thordek is the eldest dwarf in Hartbruck, as his long white beard could confirm. Not as white as Grombrindal's, but it is starting to get close. By default, his age makes him the leader of the community. As usual, he goes straight to the point.

"Oi, Janna. Why don't you come help moving those barrels we got from Zhufbar? We're opening one later - just for us".

Talking about hard labour: those barrels are not very heavy, but there were at least two dozens when the dwarves unloaded them from the cart that carried them to Hartbruck.

As always, the old dwarf has this air of authority that makes his requests sound like orders. However, before Janna can reply, Smirri starts to speak. It quickly becomes evident that the younger dwarf has something else on his mind.

"Have you heard? The engineer guild has used some new untested contraption of theirs against the greenskins" - he snorts with obvious displeasure - "that thing they call "steamroller" was built for the first time barely twenty years ago! That's nothing! Nothing!"

The dwarf's reddish moustaches tremble. Everybody knows that Smirri doesn't like engineers, nor their smoking gunpowder weapons. In fact, he still relies on crossbow and axe.

Before Smirri has a chance to continue, his older brother interrupts him. Maybe he doesn't feel like wasting time when there is work to do. Maybe he has been hearing the same complains for days now.

[spinningdice]

Janna gives Thordek a nod and starts to move to the barrels, before Smirri starts to speak, though listens to him. "Ha, you're getting old Smirri, I wouldn't say no to anything that can take down the greenskins faster than they can spawn more. In the time it takes to swing an axe at one y'know there's a dozen more been birthed somewhere." She hefts the barrel up onto her shoulder "This going to the square or the manor?"

[BananaPhone]

Olaf Mountainoak


Amber leaves gently touched down onto across the foliage and soothing river side as Olaf slung his backpack over his broad shoulders. Twitching his nose and angling his neck from side to side as he strapped himself in to what seemed his bag over a crossbow and a shield, the stout dwarf turned upon his heel to address the rest of the riverboats crew after a voyage well done.

"Well," he started, his notably deep voice rolling over the terrain before him as the motely collection of ferrymen turned from their activities to face the dwarf and his address.

"I'd like to say it's been a pleasure, but we all know that'd be a lie."

A few snickers were shared.

"Off with ye, ye rotten bastards. Hope I don't have to look at your ugly mugs for another month," he dismissed to the sound of chuckles.

Expending the effort to pivot his robust figure about, the dwarf waved over his shoulder as he plodded off down the forest path towards Hartbrucks centre; the path before him flanked with tree's whose orange umbrage was slowly being stripped away by the passage of time to expose the oak within. With a sword on his hip, weapons on his back and every footstep he takes echoing in a soft, coin-like jingle, Olaf whistles to himself as his stroll takes him into the midst of the human buildings who's dimensions were made for a people much taller than he.

[dojango]

Heinrich Talbot

"My da says that half the stories are just made up to scare people away from something. And the other half are warnings to keep away from danger. Trick is telling the two apart, I suppose. Still, rovers about could mean trouble, thieves and the like. Keep yer club close tonite, anyone tries to steal from us'll get a good walloping. Hmm, wonder if his lordship would let me borrow one of them books. My da taught me my letters, might be nice to have something to read when we're snowbound this winter." Heinrich picked up a stick and started sketching out a few words to prove his claim. "Heinrich. Beatrix. Markus. Lewin," he said, as he wrote the names in the dirt. Then he drew a heart around Heinrich and Beatrix and grinned at her.

[Revanus]

With a tankard of local brew in hand, Wolfgang stands amongst a group of villagers in the center of town, making small talk. Wolfgang’s porter, Albrecht, sits nearby, perched upon a large backpack and contentedly chowing down on a meat pie. Both are dirt-streaked and sunburnt, showing signs of a day spent in the woods. Wolfgang’s leather armor and dwarvish-style round shield, and the crossbow slung across Albrecht’s torso, stand out a bit amidst the peasant garb of the farmers and smiths of the village.

Still, it’s a sight the villagers are used to. Wolf is not quite a stranger, not quite a resident—the best description might be a “seasonal local event of minor interest.” Almost four years prior, Wolf had worked a small bounty for Hartbruck—the son of a local merchant was stabbed to death in Krugenheim in a case of mistaken identity, and the town demanded justice that Krugenheim authorities couldn’t be bothered to deliver.

Since then, Wolf had made it a habit of stopping into the village for a few weeks each year to enjoy the Fall festival and reprovision. The first week, Wolf typically spent nursing wounds and playing the part of “town curiosity”—activities which demanded simple and lightweight garb. Once the usual hubbub died down and Wolf’s presence was invariably replaced by the next shiny bit of local news, Wolf would start the unenviable process of shedding the few extra “social” pounds he’d packed on from the hearty pies and homespun sweets of the previous days. Typically, the process involved marching about all day in full armor, dispatching tree-shaped “foes,” and generally making Albrecht as miserable and tired as possible. Accordingly, Wolf and Albrecht’s current state was something the villagers had seen before.

In a few days, Wolf would head to Krugenheim for the winter. Like farming, the rhythms of bounty hunting were seasonal. Spring was a time for crimes of passion—rapes, pillaging, and such. Summer, because of the tendency of heat to arouse tempers, was typically murderous. Winter was time equally marked by violence and theft, as desperate people took desperate measures and grew sick of living in forced proximity. And Fall—Fall was typically slow. Farmers are too busy with the harvest to get up to mischief, armies wrap up campaigns before the cold sets in, and everyone is generally bedding down for long months ahead—no time for vice. Wolf enjoyed Fall, though it generally left him a bit light in the purse—as he was now.

Still, the grind would come back soon enough. For now, Wolf was content to drink his brew, shoot the breeze, and try to ignore Edel. Wolf had made the mistake of bedding the prettiest girl in a small village before, and didn’t care to repeat the lesson—if he could avoid it.

[Vetril]

"Tch, the sq-sq-square. Down th-there, w-with the others."

The dwarf that pointed at the barrels just behind the corner is much younger than the two brothers. His name is Grigg, and he is just as old as Janna is. The dwarf's black beard is a thorny bush that covers the entire lower half of his face; he talks with a stutter, but the last man to make a joke about it (some Forsooth man from the hills: Grigg can't remember, as human names sound all the same to him) went home with a broken nose, th-thank you v-very much.

As Janna can see, Grigg is helping Brelog and Doghunn with the barrels: each one of them is carrying one, and to tell the truth, they are almost done.

"C-curse this d-damn weather. A storm i-i-is coming."

"Again with that knee?" asks Brelog. Grigg doesn't bother to reply: he walks with a limp, and that's already an eloquent answer.

All of sudden, Doghunn points with his finger to the path that leads to the river.

"Hey! Would you look at that? One more of the dawi coming to Hartbruck, and just in time! Someone call Thordek: we are going to have a guest."



The guest would be Olaf, sighted as soon as he walked into the village. The locals give him curious looks, but the humans of Hartbruck are used to the dwarves. Soon, they return their attention to their own business, letting Thordek and his own men take care of the stranger.



Lewin seems dubious. He looks away, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I don't know, Heinrich. I don't think lord Baldwin would agree to lend you something as precious as a book. I am not sure about how much one of those costs, but I bet it's more than three pigs."

Beatrix folds the shirt she was working on and nods in agreement. She starts to put her tools away; it's almost too dark to continue the task, and she has done a good job with the time she has used. Once the woman has tucked away everything, she relaxes and speaks.

"I think you are correct, Lewin."

The miller seems reassured by the woman's opinion. Beatrix continues, this time looking at Heinrich.

"And why would you read a book, my dear? You are student, and while books are surely a very nice thing to have, I'd rather have another chicken. At least, we'd have eggs."

However, as Heinrich starts to write in the dirt, the two fall silent, captured by the magic of those symbols that they can not decipher. The magnetism that the letters have on the two villagers is obvious, despite their excuses. For a moment, they both look in awe.

And then, Markus runs over the words and jumps at his father, embracing the man with his skinny arms. The magic is gone, and their world starts moving again.



As always, Albrecht eats as if he was starving - which isn't far from the truth, to be honest. No one ever said that a bounty hunter's life was easy, though; and that must be even truer for a bounty hunter's porter.

How Albrecht manages to eat so much and still look so malnourished is a mystery that Wolfgang still hasn't had the chance to figure out. Still the man is trustworthy, and a decent companion, if not for the poor conversation.

Edel comes closer, and for a moment she gives the impression that she is about to approach Wolfgang - again.

Still, this time she keeps walking only to stop in front of Gastan, the hunter.

In Hartbruck, everybody knows Gastan - he makes sure of it. His house is filled with trophies, and every year he is the one that brings back more meat than anyone else. A brave man, young and strong, but also foolish and short tempered. Who knows what Edel sees in him. Muscles? Or the moustache?

Either way, Wolfgang is safe.

From the side, finishing his meat pie, Albrecht looks at the bounty hunter with amused eyes.

[BananaPhone]

Olaf Mountainoak


Olaf stretched his short, but thick arms to either side of his body as if greeting well-wishers - while his face was expressionless and carved from stone.

"Yes, it is I," he spoke colorlessly, with a not-so-subtle hint of sarcasm.

"Gaze upon me and tremble! Your wives and daughters will know no manlier man that I!"

Noting the riot of color and a town pregnant with festivities, Olaf approached the nearest Man and caught his attention.

"You there, sir, what's going on 'ere then?" Olaf asked, gesturing to the preparations taking place about the buildings.

[Vetril]

"Oi! You heard him?" Brelog stops to stare at the newcomer, and almost drops the barrel he is carrying with Grigg. The other dwarf grunts as he shifts his grip to hold the container. Unable to kick his companion due to the excessive weight he is now suffering under, he decides to do the next best thing: attract his attention with words.

"C-Careful! If we d-dr-ddrop th-th-th- a barrel, Thordek will drop a-another on our heads."

Brelog curses and grabs the barrel again. He doesn't seem very happy, and kicks a stone as he walks towards the destination. Hardly surprising: this particular dwarf is quick to take note of grudges.

"I th-think it was a j-joke. Calm down", says Grigg. He is covered in sweat, despite the weather, and seems all too willing to avoid trouble.

From the other side of the village, someone starts singing. The very recognizable voice belongs to Gastan, who sings beautifully. No one is surprised: the hunter likes to sing, and is more than happy to do so everytime he has a public. From the words, it seems he is boasting about his skills, much to Edel's delight.

"Not again", groans Grigg.



Albrecht eyes the dwarf that referred to him as "sir". Much to his surprise, the amusing stranger's got even less meat on his bones than him! The porter instinctively turns to protect the little pie that is left, offering a cold shoulder to Olaf.

"You talk to him. I just carry things." The slim man, still on the defensive, points to Wolfgang. For the whole time, he shields the pie with his body.

He still remembers the last time someone robbed him of his meal: the thief was a halfling, but halflings are not so different from dwarves, in Albrecht's eyes. They are both short, after all.

This time, no grubby small hands will touch his dinner without a fight, that's for sure.

[dojango]

Heinrich Talbot

Heinrich scoops up Little Markus and hoists him up on his shoulders. The kid grabs the stick and starts swinging it around wildly. "True enough, I suppose. Put a candle in the jack o'lantern and let's go for a walk, Bea." Heinrich starts walking over towards where the newcomers are, bouncing the kid on his shoulders. "Hey, Lewin, is that one of the rovers? It's just a dwarf, here to see his friends. And old Wolf and Al." Heinrich angled over to greet them. He liked Albrecht well enough, and Wolfgang was certainly always polite... but he still made Heinrich nervous. Bounty hunters had a mixed reputation and he suspected he would always be happy to collect a bounty, no matter who it was.

[Revanus]

Wolf catches Albrecht’s glance and shrugs with a smile. Admittedly, Wolf had spent much of the afternoon “complaining” about all the attention Edel had been paying him for the last week, and lamenting having to spend tonight trying to tone down his charm. Albrecht’s silent reproach was well-deserved and more than fair. If things didn’t change, Wolf was in for a full helping of good-natured ribbing in the morning. Still, the night was young.

Wolf didn’t dislike Gastan, despite the lad’s boldness. He lacked the traditional modesty of most Talabeclanders, but Wolf could respect Gastan’s hunting skill. Still, when the mustachioed man-child began to sing, Wolf couldn’t help but chuckle and roll his eyes at Albrecht. Gastan’s singing had grown in prominence each Fall, but by all indications, Gastan’s pride had a major growth spurt in the past year.

As his trusty porter shields his well-deserved meat pie and gestures in his direction, Wolf abandons the suddenly competitive hunt for Edel’s attention for the moment and walks over to Albrecht and the dwarvish newcomer.

”Aye, you mean you aren’t here for the music? Hartbruck is famous for its free-flowing ale in Fall—but appparently, now we get a show on top of the usual dancing.”

One of the reasons Hartbruck is such an enjoyable stop for Wolf is its relative popularity as a rest-stop among dwarvish traders and travelers. Wolf has a soft spot for dwarves.

“Wolfgang. Wolf, for short. And this is my companion, Albrecht. I’d say he’s more talkative when he’s not hungry—but truth be told, I’ve no idea. The man is never full.”

Wolf claps Albrecht good naturedly on the shoulder, and then offers the newcomer a hand and a smile in greeting. If nothing else, the dwarf standing before him was blessed with the most human sense of humor Wolf had ever encountered. On this fact alone, such a unique dwarf was worth getting to know—though judging by the dwarf’s arms and armor, such a sense of humor in a dwarf clearly came with certain perils.

”You look a bit overdressed for supper, though perhaps I’m not one to talk. Just passing through?”

[spinningdice]

Janna sets the barrel down with the others in the square, eyeing the strangers. She was mostly a stranger herself, but that didn't stop her distrusting other road-walkers, after all she knew what it was like out there... still they didn't seem like the type to be scouting for weaknesses, so may as well introduce herself.
"Janna, I help looking out for troublesome types around here, so don't got causing none.", she offers her arm in greeting.

[Vetril]

Lewin follows Heinrich and his son. While he still tries to answer the question, he sounds unsure.

"I have no idea. Do dwarves wander around stealing babies?", was the miller's own question. He offers a tentative smile.

"But Theobald must know, if he knows about everything else. Maybe the books say how to recognize the rovers."

It takes very little for the three of them to reach the small group that is gathering around the outsider.

Albrecht is still sitting, and finishes the pie with one big, large bite. His mouth full, he struggles to make the food go down. He seems surprised by the attention the others are giving to the dwarf, and he gives another long look to Olaf.

"Is he someone important?", he asks Wolfgang. The porter points out something obvious, but that is quite uncommon in Hartbruck.

"He has a sword."

Somewhere far behind them, Gastan's song comes to an abrupt end.

"Yes. And I'd like to know who this young man is, too". Thordek arrives just after Janna, and as usual wastes no time with small talk.

[BananaPhone]

Olaf Mountainoak

Olaf had the fingers of both hands tucked into his belt, as his bright eyes switched back and forth between the Tall Folk as each one spoke in turn.

Not getting much of an answer to his original question, the dwarf spotted the jealously guarded piece of pie - his tummy rumbling for just a second at the merest sight - but stayed any attempt he might have made when seeing what defenses he'd have to overcome to acquire it.

Tilting his head to one side, Olaf now looked at another one of his kind - a lovely young lass who intnroduced herself and held out her arm in greeting.

Receiving it with his stout forearms, Olaf gave a nod, "Olaf Mountainoak. And I am quite important," he said self-assuredly, an eye moving towards Albrecht, "I guard the river lanes and keep'em free of...undesirable sorts that would love to nick whatever goes into that lovely pie there," he gestures to the remnants of that pasty, meaty delight.

"I have no idea. Do dwarves wander around stealing babies?"

Olaf turned his head to face the miller and his question. Craning his neck back just a tick and almost puffing out his chest, the dwarf spoke. "Only the useful ones."

"If I was going to hang it'd be for something more rewarding than making off with a squealing, crapping midget."

[dojango]

Heinrich Talbot

"Well, I suppose Little Markus is safe enough, then, said Heinrich, as Little Markus tried to pull out clumps of his hair. "Welcome to Hartbruck, friend, I am Heinrich. And welcome back, Albrecht. Should have some treats for you tomorrow, the pumpkin pies are going to be amazing. Shame you missed blackberry season, too. Hello, Wolfgang. You here on business?"

Heinrich tried to carry on the conversation while also keeping the baby calm. Once the squirming got too much, he put him down, only to have him cling to Heinrich's leg and start asking for 'uppies' again.

[spinningdice]

Janna clasps Olaf's arm firmly "Aye, welcome. Dwarfs are mostly based 'round the brewery up there." She nods up to the brewery. "or yeh can stay among the tallfolk, they're friendly enough."

[Vetril]

The old dwarf caresses his beard once - not enough to be insulting - according to dwarven etiquette, but enough to be a real warning.

"Well, I think y-"

Thordek is interrupted by Gastan's voice, arriving to everybody's ears loud and clear despite the distance. The hunter is calm, yet his words imply uncommon circumstances.

"Help! This kid needs help! Bring me some water!"

His call arrives from the village border, out of sight but less than two minutes away, if one walks in the right direction.

Everyone stops. Men look at each other. The words "beast men" bounce back and forth among the crowd. Some rush to their huts, mentioning their bows. No alarm has been given, yet, but better safe than sorry.
Soon, Edel comes back running. She takes a waterskin out of her father's hands, only to go back the way she came.

"It's little Karl! He's exhausted!", is all she has to say as she runs back. As everybody in Hartbruck would know, the only child named Karl is the son of Gunther, a farmer who lives almost a mile west of the village.

Many villagers follow her, pushed forward by a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Among them, Thordek and other dwarves; it seems they have forgotten about Olaf, for the time being.

Beatrix has moved to Heinrich's side, and takes little Marcus in her arms. The child is unsure what to think of the confusion, but she talks to him in a calm and soothing voice. The stare she gives at her man however is anything but calm. She is alarmed.

"We'll be in the house", is all the woman says. She walks back to the building at a fast pace, carrying her child.

Next to Heinrich, Lewin is suddenly unsure. He is just a miller, after all.

Albrecht stands up and checks his dagger. He looks at Wolfgang and shrugs.

"Could be good, could be bad."

Of course, he is right. Bounty hunters prosper because of troubling events, but the wisest ones in this profession are those who know when the problems are too big to be tackled on their own.

[spinningdice]

Janna isn't much for talk, but she offers the Miller a way out. "Arm yourself, rally the men and keep guard here, could be a feint. We'll go take a look." who 'we' are she doesn't elaborate, but she starts out towards the Gunther farm.

[Revanus]

Wolf smiles at Heinrich and his boy.

”Greetings, Heinrich! That warrant you read for me last year was a great help, but...”

Gastan’s shouts cut Wolf off mid-sentence. Wolf nods in response to Albrecht’s comment, and winks at little Markus.


”Well, I wasn’t here on business. But it seems that vanquishing pies and brews has been unseated from the prime position on my night’s agenda.”

Wolfgang shrugs his shield off his back and slips his military pick out of his belt loop, moving purposefully toward the commotion. Albrecht follows a few steps behind, having taken a slight detour to nab an abandoned pie crust from a nearby table.

[dojango]

Heinrich Talbot

"Bar the door," Heinrich says as Beatrix leaves. He turns to Lewin, "Maybe we should tell his lordship..." tell him what, exactly, Heinrich wondered. Back in the hills, if anything or anyone caused trouble, a few dozen men with clubs would go out and hit it until it stopped making trouble. But down here, lords were touchy about such things. "C'mon, Lew, let's see what's happening." Heinrich quick-walked off in the direction of the commotion, quickly passing the slower dwarves.

[Vetril]

The villagers follow Edel back to the border of Hartbruck. The day is fading quickly now, and the last light of the evening is intercepted by large dark clouds that already cover the northern sky. Thunder rumbles in the distance.

Gastan is there, carrying a young child in his large arms. The kids is indeed Karl: even though he was born just six winters ago, his red hair and the long face are well known in the village. To be precise, is family lives a good mile away from Hartbruck itself, but no one in his right mind would claim that the farmers are strangers.

Still, no one has ever seen Karl like this: he is trembling, and the skin around his eyes is dark. The kid is grasping Gastan's chest, and looks at the crowd with scared eyes. He tries to speak to the hunter, but words refuse to come out of his mouth. The attempt is too much for the child, and he collapses again in the man's arms.

Edel stops next to the two, offering the waterskin. Karl drinks for a moment and then coughs.

Thordek is already asking questions.

"What is going on,for Grugni's beard? Karl, speak up!"

Other villagers agree with the old dwarf, and before the child has a chance to answer, they all start to speak at the same time. The crowd starts to gather around Gastan.

While still being carried, Karl hides his face against the hunter's face.

[dojango]

Heinrich Talbot

"Give the kid some space! Gastan, why don't you take him inside and get some food into him. Rather than bothering the poor kid, let's go out to the farm and see what's happening. If he ran away, his parents will want to know he's safe and if there's trouble..." Heinrich trails off for a moment. He looks at the darkening sky. "Anyone who wants to come with me, grab a torch or a lantern and meet back here." Heinrich turns and runs back to his shack. He rummages through his special equipment and pulls out the lantern and oil from the shelf. As he leaves he stops, runs back, shrugs into his leather jack and grabs his club leaning by the door. "Bring some food over to Gastan's for the kid, Bea. I'm going to go make sure the family's alright," he says to Beatrix as he leaves. It only takes a few minutes, and he runs back towards Gastan's house to see if any other villagers are joining him.

[Revanus]

Wolf inches closer to the boy and Gaston, quickly scanning his body for signs of struggle or a hint of what might have caused such distress and the strange darkening of his eyes. Wolf’s demeanor is calm, but serious.

”Check the boy for wounds. And make sure he hasn’t eaten something dangerous before feeding him.”

Wolf turns to Heinrich.

”I don’t fancy mucking about the wilderness in the growing shadows, but I’ll join ye. I can read tracks and signs as well as you can read letters and warrants, I reckon.”

Wolf smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his suddenly cold eyes.

[spinningdice]

"Aye.". Janna doesn't was words with explanation.

[BananaPhone]

Olaf Mountainoak


Olaf watched the commotion with a half-concerned, half-distracted look until he saw the kid. Grimmacing his lips and shaking his head, his short legs came up into a trot as he covered the distance to appear near the crowd in the hopes of seeing what was going on.

Admittedly, talk of the farmstead was a bit beyond him. Sticking to the rivers and usually only speaking with the major traders in each town, he didn't know the lay-out as well as these folks. But experience taught him that a farming family on the outskirts of town had to have it pretty rough against the things that lurked in the forest.

Listening to Heinreichs call to action, Olaf once more pursed his lips. He'd just gotten off of a ferry and days of vigilence against this very thing...and now he was indirectly being asked to offset a bit of rest to do it all again. Still, if the human boys family were in trouble, no one would be served by him laying about.

Nodding once, "Aye, I'll help ye out," Olaf spoke almost reluctantly, his deep voice easily heard over the murmur of the crowd.

Already dressed in his leather armor, with shield, sword and crossbow, he needed nothing else to hit the road.

[Vetril]

Wolfgang's quick inspection does not reveal anything beyond the obvious: the kid is so exhausted that all he can do is tremble in Gastan's arms. Albrecht moves to stand next to his friend, and shifts his eyes from the kid to the bounty hunter, before going back to the child.

"What do you think happened? He didn't talk much."

Beatrix gives Heinrich a nod, unable to talk. She hugs Marcus until her knuckles become white. The child does not understand the situation, and can only says "Dad?" with a feeble voice as the man gathers his equipment.

Heinrich returns just in time to see Gastan walk by. The hunter carries Karl to his house and disappears inside. Edel and her father follow him, and soon all that can be heard are their voices, comforting the kid.

Thordek comes closer to the small group of villagers that are preparing to investigate the whereabouts of the farmers.

"I sent Brelog to the manor. I'm sure that Hubert will gather more people. They'll be right behind you." The dwarf eyes Gastan's hut. "I'll make the kid speak. If he's seen something, we'll know soon enough.

A deep voice cuts through the air, easily overpowering the noises made by the crowd.

"I will get to the bottom of this! No beast nor man skulking in the dark will be safe from my rifle."

It is Gastan, wearing a brown cloak on his back. He leaves his house. The crowd cheers when they notice that the rifle he has slain countless beasts with is resting on the man's shoulder. He nods at them. Brash and impulsive, Gastan is already in motion.

Behind the hunter comes a worried Edel. The young woman runs and grabs his free hand.

"Don't go. Please, listen to me. It will be dangerous. Look at him."

The hunter gives her a grim look until she can't sustain his stare any longer. She lets him go, despite her reluctance.

"I am Gastan the hunter, woman. I fear nothing in our woods."

The man turns and walks at a quick pace, reaching the group. Gastan barely takes the time to count the volunteers, and then proceeds towards the path that leads to the farm.

"Let's go."

Standing to the side, Thordek looks at the approaching darkness. The elder strokes his beard, but this time he is not insulting anyone. This time, he is worried.

[dojango]

Heinrich Talbot

Heinrich watches as Gastan strides off into the darkness. He follows a few paces behind him, his lantern illuminating the area around him, a beacon for the others to follow. Idly he hopes other have brought lights as well, but time is of the essence.

[BananaPhone]

Olaf Mountainoak


The dwarf took one last look towards the inn and the warm, comfortable amber lights that emerged from within. Their temptations were not to be easily dismissed, as images clouded the dwarfs mind of comfortable chairs, roaring fires and cold, rich ale. It would be so easy...none of this was much his business anyway...men have been taking care of their own for longer than he was around.

Letting out a resigned breath, Olaf shook his head and turned back towards the path. As Gastan picked his pace up into a deep stride, Olaf did similar. His short, capable legs drew up into a light jog as he brought himself about to keep pace with the longer-legged humans.

[Vetril]

The familiar path leads the expedition towards the farm. Soon the last light fails, and the lantern has to be turned on to fight off the darkness. Thanks to the weather, there is no moon and no starlight to aid the group's eyes.

Still first, Gastan does not speak and focuses on walking, aided by his long legs. Cautiously, he keeps his rifle braced, ready for anything that might lurk somewhere behind the forest trees. The sound of their footsteps on the dirt is all the settlers can hear as they make haste towars their destination.

Another thunder rumbles, but it hides in the threatening clouds that have creeped closer in the last hour, while still remaning far away. Unlucky coincidence, as heavy rain and thunderstorms are not typical of this time of the year, but maybe whatever happened to make Karl run away from his family happened because of the weather.

Finally, after the last turn, the dark silhouette of the farm appears just where the forest starts to reclaim the land that was taken by the settlers dozens of generations ago. The wooden buildings are little more than a darker spot in the night, resembling a couple of monsters waiting for the group to come closer and closer, until they will ambush the villagers and their hunger will be satisfied once again.

Gastan stops now, and arms his weapon, producing an audible click that breaks the silence which has fallen on the farm's surroundings. He goes down on one knee and talks with just a whisper, voicing everybody's concerns.

"If you can hide the lantern's presence do so now, becuase I can't spot any lights, and I don't hear any cow or even the dogs - I think something is very wrong here."

And indeed, around the group the darkness holds its breath, surrounding them as it sardonically invites them to proceed and just cut to the chase to end this nerve-wracking experience.

[dojango]

Heinrich Talbot

Heinrich places the lantern on the ground and then drapes his cloak over it, concealing the light. He lets his eyes adjust to the darkness; he has always had excellent night vision. Peering into the gloom he looks around him, alert for any movements or threats.

[roll0] v. 40. Night Vision gives me sight out to 30 yards.

[spinningdice]

Remembering the humans are blinded Janna also strains her eyes looking into the dark [roll0] (Perception 31)

[Revanus]

Wolf smiles in the dark. Gastan’s instincts mirror his own. Wolf had been careful not to stand too close to Heinrich or get caught in the lantern’s light—growing up in mercenary camps, Wolf knew that mean who carried lights in the dark were fun sport for enemy archers, and rarely lived to enjoy another breakfast.

Perhaps Wolf’s abundance of caution is what led him to leave Albrecht behind in the town, along with much of the non-essentials—crossbow, manacles, etc. Albrecht had looked like he wantd to protest, but Wolf had given him a job—keep his eyes peeled and report back any news of the boy’s condition or memory of the events, and to join the next scouting party and meet up with Wolf then.

Crouched in the dark, whip and shield in hand, Wolf studies the ground and nearby surroundings for signs of foul play—be it beast men, battle, or butchery.

[Vetril]

With the cloak laid upon the lantern, the darkness surrounds the group like a shroud, and everyone goes blind for a moment.
Gastan waits in the dark without making a movement, the patience of a hunter serving him well as he kneels still while his eyes adapt to the night.

The farm still waits for them like a horrible thought that does not go away just because you can't observe it - its presence instead even more menacing in the eerie silence that permeates the area: no animal makes itself heard, and the only noise are the low, thunderous rumbles that herald the coming of the rain. It is quite a disquieting quality of this dark scene the group stumbled upon, a quality that is as uncommon as it is alien to the experience of the people that are witnessing it.

Both Janna and Heinrich can see shadows of what lies ahead, but no movement draws their attention. Everything is as it should be, but it also feels wrong, as if the place had died and the group was watching a fresh corpse that hasn't had the time to rot yet. If something hides in the farm, it hides well, for neither dwarf nor man are able to spot any trace of such an elusive intruder.

Time passes at a snail's pace, and you shiver in the dropping temperature that is typical of this time of the year. Still no one comes from the village, and who knows how log it's going to take before the villagers organize theirselves.

Gastan shifts his weight from one leg to the other. He eyes Heinrich, and gives a word of warning.

"Make sure your cloak does not catch fire. This might take some time."

[BananaPhone]

Olaf Mountainoak


The stout dwarf had lingered in the back of the group, his crossbow drawn and his eyes scanning the surroundings. Unlike the humans, Olaf had no problem seeing in the dark, as his eyes quickly adapted to the pin-pricks of moonlight and the occasional sway of the party's single lantern.

Watching the silhouette of the derelict house rise up before them and flanked by the treeline as if they were approaching a dark crag, Olaf suppressed a shudder at the thought of living here during ominous nights like these. Whatever you said about humans, no one could call them cowardly. As a group at least.

Yessir, give Olaf the comfort of a mountain any day over the wilderness. Or at least a river upon which he could ply his wares.

Inhaling softly and ready to loose a bolt if need be, the dwarf stayed quiet and waited to follow the others. Gastan seemed the most keen and knowledgeable of the area, so Olaf figured it was wiser allowing him to direct them.

[dojango]

Heinrich Talbot

Heinrich looked back at the lantern. It had burned out under the cloak. He recovered his cloak and peered at the farmhouse in the distance. "Can't see a blasted thing," he whispered. "I'm going to get a little closer." Heinrich started carefully picking his way towards the farmhouse. Unfortunately, in the dark, he couldn't see quite where he was planting his feet, and with a few crackles and snaps as he stepped on unseen branches and leaves, he made his way towards the darkened house.

[spinningdice]

Since Heinrich seems to be moving forward with nary a care for stealth Janna follows. Crossbow readied

[Revanus]

Wolf approaches carefully, a bit farther back from the other two, coiled whip and shield at the ready. His footing is careful, and he feels at home advancing through the forest.

Shadows can cut both ways...

[Vetril]

The shadow of the house grows as you come closer, inevitable like an ancient curse unleashed upon its victims. Soon, it looms over the group, until you start to get so close that the building in front of you is all you can see. The weapons you wield bring you a certain degree of confidence, but the immobile darkness and the complete silence are heralds of something very wrong that can crawl under your skin just as easily as it would be to turn and run away. The house itself is wrong, and you can't help but somehow feel repulsion in its presence, as if some very primal part of you dreaded to uncover the farm's secrets. Its horrible silhouette is a visual reminder that no living being would stay here by his own conscious choice. Not unless one is willing to accept the merciful oblivion of insanity.

The wind starts to raise, coming from beyond the farm, growing from somewhere in the north east where the dark clouds cover the sky. The clouds theirselves roll forward with a terrible quickness, as if answering a call that they cannot deny while they consume the starlight and plunge the earth into darkness. The air is cold and lingers upon you with its icy touch as it blows past, almost trying to keep you away. "Don't go, you fools, don't go", the wind seems to say.

In the cold of the night, the wind carries towards you a foul metallic smell of copper, and underneath, the subtle stench of something vile, familiar but faint enough that you still can't recognize for what it is. No sound breaks the silence yet, apart from the howling of the wind.

Behind you, Gastan is still pointing his rifle at the house. Much to his honor, even though his face has drained of all life and looks as pale as a ghost, he is walking with you towards the farm.

[BananaPhone]

Olaf Mountainoak


Every sensible thought that crowded the dwarfs mind begged him to turn around and head back towards the village. Compelled as his instincts were before such a dreadsome hovel as the one before him, Olaf had half a mind to listen. Already the corners of his eyes could detect whisps of movement slithering in and out of his peripheral vision - tendrils of activity that seemed to materialise to life for a second before melting into the enveloping shadows.

Whether any such peripheral phantasms were real or not, the dwarf didn't know. Perhaps it was just his nerves playing tricks on him - maybe the ominous heart of this dreadful place was evoking some deep-seated fear within his breast to dance about upon the perimeter of his perceptions. Or maybe there really were things there, watching and waiting from shadows too deep for the moonlight to penetrate.

Pulling his cloak a little tighter around his collarbone, Olaf rolled his shoulders and kept up with the others. As he currently had a ranged weapon, he brought up the rearguard - but he took a degree of comfort knowing that his able sword and stout shield were just a couple of hand actions away.

[dojango]

Heinrich Talbot

Heinrich peered closely at the home. In the gloom, he could barely see the shape of the looming house, and certainly not any finer details. No choice but to go forward, he reckoned. Squaring his shoulders, he walked carefully up to the door of the house and with the end of his club, carefully tapped on the door. "Oy, Gunther! You out there?" he called.

[spinningdice]

Janna flinches slightly as Heinrich called out, his voice sounding terribly loud in the unnatural silence. She continued to grip her crossbow and watches for shadows.

[Vetril]

As Heinrich walks up the few steps that lead to the front door, he can't help but notice the stench, growing stronger and stronger the closer he gets to the dead house. The stingy and metallic smell of blood, fear and violence, mixed with something else that reminds him of his expeditions inside long forgotten tombs, where decomposition and rot reign unchallenged.

The door has been forced open by a powerful blow, and it is hanging from the lower hinge. On the right, the window frame is broken. Dark spots of... Some kind of dirt? They surround both openings, but in the darkness you are unsure of their nature.

No voice answers the call that echoes through the silence that surrounds the building. Time slows down to a crawl as tension rises, until a wolf howls somewhere in the distance, hidden in the woods. Did it hear Heinrich, or did it just follow its own natural instincts, like all of its kind do? Is it maybe coming to inspect the area, drawn by the words that flew in the air, carried by the wind?

Gastan lowers his rifle and catches up with Heinrich, a dark silhouette walking up to the door as if he was preparing to merge with the house, but before he can reach it, something draws his attention. He freezes, and looks around, trying to pinpoint the source of whatever he noticed.

Light seems to fail even more as the clouds run through the sky carried by the breeze which is now uncomfortably cold. In a matter of minutes, the little visibility you had from the starlight is snuffed out, and pitch black darkness assails you.

[dojango]

Heinrich Talbot

Heinrich's skin crawls as the sky darkens. He immediately pulls out the lantern and tries to relight it. "In radiance may we find victory," he mutters, the traditional tomb robber's mantra. "I don't think anyone's in there. Let's check inside real quick and then head back." Once the lantern is lit, Heinrich pushes open the farmhouse's door and peers inside.