[WFRP] The Bloody Crown XI [Archive] - Giant in the Playground Forums

LCP

2019-10-17, 05:59 PM

Sieghard had barely turned to check on Adelbert before the priest was gone, vanishing behind the steady stream of passers-by. Standing for a little while alone, Sieghard at last gave up looking, and went over to the benches by the west wall where he had agreed to meet Urgrim. The dwarf was already waiting there, gazing up the street to the spot where they had halted Klammenberg’s coach.

The city streets were not the best ground to follow a trail, even less so after they had been sluiced clean by the storm - but prints or no prints, they had the eyes of the people to help them. An old man in the Street of Sinners said he’d seen a man riding a jackal, running west - the soul of a miscreant, he said, being borne away by Morr’s hound. In Shortneck Lane, between the Old Town and the Warren, a washerwoman claimed she’d seen it climb the steps of the city wall and leap over the parapet, though a jump from such a height would surely have broken every bone in Sieghard’s legs.

Others in the miserable huddle of tents outside the north gatehouse confirmed the washerwoman’s report: they had seen a black hound with burning eyes run through their camp, racing away through the ruins of the old Downs Town shanty with a man clinging to its back. If their reports were true, it seemed the Jackal had left Savonne. Footsore and hoarse from talking, the two investigators returned through the gates in search of a drink.

Backertag, 3rd Nachgeheim

Early on the morning of Backertag, Sieghard saw Morrslieb’s black wings as the raven returned to the keep, a letter tied to his leg. After a short while, the bird flew off towards the Great Hospital, the letter gone - climbing the stairs to the castellan’s solar, Sieghard found Irene reading the Captain’s reply. She looked up and saw him waiting to hear what it said.

“Muzio says to keep watch against the creature’s return, and ensure the book is kept under constant guard.” She allowed herself a small smile. “He says he will be returning to us very soon.”

~

Later that day, Valdes arrived at the north gate, summoned by Irene’s messenger. Listening dumbfounded to the litany of events that had transpired in his absence, he was grieved to learn of Astoria’s death, shocked to hear of the events at the temple - and though he tried his best to hide it, deeply confused at Irene’s change of heart as to why she had summoned him.

“So you do not want the Brotherhood to come back from the pass?” he said. He produced the crumpled letter he had been sent. “I was under the impression…”

“Circumstances change,” said Irene, lightly plucking her orders out of his hand. “We can hardly leave the city undefended with this beast on the loose, can we?”

“Of course not,” said Valdes, falling back on tried and tested courtesy. “Your ladyship’s safety is our first concern.” He looked to Sieghard. “Though if I tell you the truth, we could use more men. Alvarr has been turning out all those who cannot contribute to the siege through Alvarran’s south gate. Too many hungry mouths to feed. They are encamped in the pass for now, but their numbers are growing. I do not say that the Brotherhood cannot hold them back,” he said, a note of martial pride entering his voice, “but if our numbers make them think they can try… it would be bloodshed best avoided. That is, if you can spare the men, commander.”

~

Meanwhile, under Hieronymus’ reluctant leadership, the priests had returned to the temple. The blood was scrubbed from the floor, the relics in the sanctuary set right again, and a solemn ceremony was conducted for Liebrecht and Raqiyah. No matter how they scrubbed, the old stones didn’t feel the same. The question of re-consecration was one for the conclave: it would take some time for all the priests Hieronymus had written to to arrive.

As soon as the temple doors were opened again, many people came with questions about the events of Geheimnisnacht. The surviving priests knew their lines, and reeled them off as best they could, but already Adelbert could detect the thread of other narratives emerging in the questions the laypeople asked.

The first was that the attack had something to do with Elsa. As Irene had predicted, the city had seen witchcraft, and there was only one witch to hand. There had been too many witnesses to Nahorek’s theatrics in the Garden of Morr for the claim that it had been Elsa who raised the dead to gain much traction, but the tale-tellers had an answer for that: the necromancer who attacked the temple was a rival of hers who had followed her from the north, bringing their wizards’ feud to the Reaches. They had even given him a name, based off Ludo’s posters: Jon o’ the Jackal. The fire witch had nearly burned down half the city trying to kill him, the rumours went, and now he was looking to return the favour.

The second was a much more familiar line - that Raqiyah and her priests had strayed from the light, and Morr had sent his hound to punish them. This was not said too loudly among those of the faithful who still came to the temple to pray, but news of those who were saying it reached them all the same.

OOC: I’m pausing here to give you guys a chance to react to the events of the 3rd, particularly Valdes’ request for reinforcements - but if you are happy to move on, from here I’m ready to timeskip to the 8th.

Thragka

2019-10-18, 07:04 AM

Urgrim and Sieghard, 2nd Nachgeheim

"I suppose that's good news, at least for now," Urgrim said to Sieghard, when they'd concluded that Klammenberg and his master had most likely really left the city. "You could make sure the men at the gates know who to look out for, and so on." He shivered. "Can't help but feel they'll get back in easily enough, should they want to, though. Solid ground didn't seem to be too much of a necessity for travelling."

I'm personally happy to move forward to the 8th.

TheSummoner

2019-10-18, 02:42 PM

Sieghard

Sieghard considered the situation for a moment. "I wonder if it would be possible to make use of the people Alvarr has turned out. There's a great deal of work to be done clearing away the wreckage of the fire and rebuilding. If our stores could support it, we could ease some of the pressure on the men at the pass and put them to work here."

"How many men would you need?" He asked after a pause.

LCP

2019-10-18, 08:09 PM

"As many as you can spare," said Valdes. "I would say there are at least two hundred people camped in the pass, and the number is still growing."

TheSummoner

2019-10-18, 11:59 PM

Sieghard

"Two hundred?" Sieghard repeated in disbelief. Two hundred women, children, and elders, all starving in the pass. Worthless to Alvarr, but an army to Klammenberg and his monster. "Esteban, I fear that even if I sent every man under my command to the pass, they would try their luck against the soldiers in time. They face certain death waiting where they are. Against your men, their deaths are no less certain, but if even one can make it around in the chaos, their chances are better than staying."

His mind raced, desperate for a way to avoid what seemed like the inevitable end for those who had been cast out from Alvarran. "No doubt Alvarr's soldiers have family among those the Duke sent to die in the pass," he said at last. "His men are mostly conscripts. Their love of their wives and children will be greater than their love of him. They could be convinced to open the gates."

LCP

2019-10-19, 11:53 AM

"Does it matter if one or two find a way through?" said Irene, airily pouring herself a cup of wine. "It seems to me it makes little difference to us. Esteban's duty is to make sure none of Alvarr's men find a way out, and no supplies find their way in. A few starving peasants are neither here nor there." She took a long sip. "There are always peasants starving somewhere."

"If their numbers grow any further, my lady, we may not be able to prevent anyone from coming or going," said Valdes, keeping a respectful air. He looked guardedly to Sieghard. "Perhaps the commander's plan would work, perhaps not - I cannot say. But whether we are to talk with them or only keep them penned in the pass, I could dearly use more men."

"That would depend on how many men are needed here," said Irene. She looked to Sieghard too. "Have you had any luck locating the necromancer?"

TheSummoner

2019-10-20, 03:48 AM

Sieghard

"Not yet," Sieghard replied "Those who claim to have seen him and his monster after they fled the temple say they've fled the city." There was no point in saying how the two had supposedly escaped. Irene and Esteban had not seen the vampire. They wouldn't believe it could survive such a jump. "Even if it's true, I do not doubt they will try again, but we may have bought ourselves some time."

LCP

2019-10-20, 12:22 PM

Irene raised her eyebrows. "Well," she said, "I suppose better outside the walls than in. How many men do you think you can you spare?"

OOC: Not trying to brush past your suggestion about turncoats inside the walls here; just the NPCs don't have much to add to it. If you want to pursue that you'll need to identify who's going to do it and how.

RossN

2019-10-20, 06:37 PM

Adelbert

'I'm not thrilled to be back here,' Adelbert admitted to Hieronymus as the reassembled priests gathered. 'But I suppose we have little choice.'

It was not a pleasant experience being in the Temple, or listening to the gossip and not knowing quite what to say. A morbid part of him wondered how Elsa would react when she heard about Jon o’ the Jackal.

Adelbert paused, and wetted his lips, apparently nervous about something. 'I know I am not a priest of Morr but I must request permission of the rest of you to study any tomes or artifacts belonging to Mother Raqiyah and Liebrecht. My own books were destroyed in the recent fire and there may be some research I can do on the enemy.'

TheSummoner

2019-10-20, 06:50 PM

Sieghard

"I could spare twenty men. Perhaps thirty at most," Sieghard said. "The newer recruits should be able to hold the pass, but I'd be wary of counting on them alone against the duke's men or the necromancer."

"We could send a cart of food north. Offer it to Alvarran's outcasts as a gesture of good faith and in return all we ask is they choose someone to speak for them to talk with us. Just the one cart, we can spare no more," he suggested. "We make sure their man knows exactly what their situation is. The duke has abandoned them to die. The only way they survive is for the siege to end. And we offer them a way to do that. Their man finds someone among his people with family on the duke's walls. A brother or a husband or a father. They have to find him on the walls and speak to him when the other soldiers can't overhear it. They have to convince him to speak to us. And we offer him the choice. Either he opens the gates and lets us into the city or he does nothing and lets his kin starve to death."

"If he refuses, then he condemns his own blood and countless more to a slow, pointless death. If he trys to deceive us somehow, we drive the outcasts back to the wall and force Alvarr's men to shoot them themselves." Sieghard shrugged. "All it would cost us to try is one cart of old vegetables."

It's less Irene and Esteban's input I'm concerned about and more LeSwordfish and Sentinel's OOC thoughts. I'm up for it and Sieghard might be able to handle this on his own skills, but as in all things, we work better as a group.

LCP

2019-10-20, 08:19 PM

Adelbert

"That seems wise," said Hieronymus. "I'm not sure how many possessions she had - she was a ward of the Temple since she was a child." He paused, his mind seeming to wander. "Just don't take anything too far from the temple. The Cult of More may want it returned in the end."

Raqiyah's chambers were towards the back of the temple - and incredibly austere. Adelbert had thought he lived a simple life on Half Moon Alley, but here the High Priestess herself had been sleeping in a simple stone-walled cell.

Beside an extinguished oil lamp, next to her narrow bed, was a single book. The cover was plain black leather - opening it, Adelbert found the pages covered with curling Arabyan script. It smelt of dust and long disuse: this was not a well-thumbed book.

Sieghard

Irene looked reluctant. "And if they take your cart straight through to the Duke?" she asked.

"One cart cannot feed a city," said Valdes. "It's worth a try. But the Captain would need to be told. Even if we can open the gates, we can't take Alvarran alone."

"Very well," sighed Irene. "If it helps end this wretched siege, you have my blessing. Thirty men and a cart of turnips, commander," she said, looking to Sieghard. "Make it so."

TheSummoner

2019-10-20, 08:54 PM

Sieghard

Sieghard nodded as Valdes spoke. "Starving men won't give their food to the man who sent them to die. The cart will give the outcasts reason to trust us. Without it, we're no better than the Duke in their eyes."

"If you will allow it, I would like to go with Esteban to the pass. I think I can help persuade the men inside to turn their coats. And if they prove more loyal to Alvarr than we hoped, I will return to the city right away."

LCP

2019-10-20, 09:32 PM

Sieghard

Irene looked a little unsure. "You are going with them?" she asked. "Then who will command your men here?"

TheSummoner

2019-10-21, 02:34 AM

Sieghard

"If you would allow it," Sieghard replied. "I have men I trust to lead while I am away. But if you would prefer I stay in Savonne, I'll do as you bid."

LCP

2019-10-21, 11:25 PM

Sieghard

"I'm sure Esteban is more than capable of negotiating with these peasants, commander. As long as the necromancer and his pet monster are walking free, the garrison here needs an officer in charge." She drew in a breath, stopping herself before she came too close to an inadvertent compliment. "Esteban will handle it. You will remain here."

TheSummoner

2019-10-22, 03:25 PM

Sieghard

"As you wish," Sieghard said.

Ready to move on. Sieghard will do whatever he can to help Esteban until he leaves. He'll stress that most of the men he has to spare are still fairly green and doesn't want them used recklessly. He'll also suggest that if anyone on the walls does appear to change sides, to send a small party in first to make sure it isn't a trap.

During the time skip, Sieghard will set watches on the gates and have men patrolling the city with the dogs. OOC, I'm willing to accept Klammenberg and Nahorek have fled based on what the witnesses say, but Sieghard isn't taking any chances. He'll keep the book in his own chambers under guard until we've found a better place for it. Before I forget about it again, he'll also have Dragos's men released. I keep meaning to do that, but end up side tracked. He'll let them know that he'll just have them hanged if they end up causing trouble for him again and that they're better off sticking with honest dockwork.

Aside from that, he still needs to replace the cannonballs...
[roll0] vs 64 gossip to find someone who can make or a trader who can get them
[roll1] vs 54 haggle on the price, base was set at 10gc before

And if Adelbert wants to do anything to try to deal with the rumors around Nahorek, he'll make himself availible for that. Otherwise, he'll continue trying to spread his own version of it in the taverns at night.
[roll2] vs 64 if you'll allow gossip, 27 if it requires charm.

RossN

2019-10-22, 04:36 PM

Adelbert

Adelbert looked at the book, his beleaguered sense of humour causing his mouth to twitch in amusement. Of course... Fluent in four languages - six if you count Guild Tongue and Magik - and the book is in Arabyan.

With a sigh of frustration he put the book down and retraced his steps to return to his mentor's office. 'Father Hieronymous can you translate Arabyan, and if not do you have any idea who can?'

LCP

2019-10-22, 09:09 PM

Adelbert

Hieronymus peered at the book with a detached interest. “I’m afraid it’s not a language in which I’m fluent,” he said. “But there are plenty who speak it in the Old Town. You might try old Al-Khansa the bookseller? I’ve always found him to be most agreeable.” He paused to think. “Though I haven’t called in on him in a while. I do hope his shop survived the fire.”

OOC: I’m going to move things along, but I’m happy to timesplit this.

Days passed. Having paid his respects at the plot where they had buried Astoria, Valdes left the following morning, leading Sieghard’s new recruits and a cart of provisions from the castle stores. It wasn’t much - root vegetables and cheap bread - but it was all that the hard-faced mistress of the kitchens had been prepared to part with. To people who were starving, Sieghard was sure it would seem like a feast.

The next day saw Brother Cezar arrive from Ravenskird, the first to answer Hieronymus’ summons to the conclave. Listening to the other priests’ account of what had taken place on Geheimnisnacht, he bowed his head in silence. Adelbert had always known the priest of Morr to be sanguine about life’s trials and troubles, but the news of Raqiyah’s death seemed to affect even him.

Cezar agreed freely to Hieronymus’ request that he take over Liebrecht’s care of the initiates, but seemed to harbour no ambition to appoint himself head of Morr’s cult in Savonne. “I could not hope to fill Mother Raqiyah’s shoes,” he said when the question was raised, shaking his tonsured head. “I will write to our sister temples in the north for aid. Perhaps the Knights of the Raven might take an interest in the news of this… creature’s return.”

Adelbert noted how he avoided using the name ‘Nahorek’. Cezar was a lowlander through and through - he would take some persuading to see his familiar jackal spirit as an enemy.

Wellentag, 8th Nachgeheim

It had been eight days since the vampire had fled, and Ludo was out in the quadrangle of the Great Hospital, enjoying some of the last of the summer sun. His stay in the house of mercy had done him good, and the sun finally seemed to warm him again: for a few days after their fateful encounter in Sundial Alley, he had felt as if he had been given a foretaste of what it was to be aged and decrepit. If that was how old Gill Brandyhill felt every day, then maybe there was something to be said for dying young.

Reclining against the warm stone of the wall behind him, he had almost drifted off to sleep when he heard a commotion on the street outside. He rose and headed for the front gate.

Outside, people were flooding onto the broad street that ran beneath the west wall of the castle, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the man on horseback who was galloping down from the direction of the north gate. They needn’t have bothered - the man came riding right past them, shouting as he came.

“Alvarran has fallen! Alvarran has fallen! Victory for Captain Sforza! Victory for the Iron Company!”

A scattering of whoops and cheers followed him up to the castle gate - Ludo suspected they were cheering for peace as much as they were for Sforza’s triumph. Riding in through the gates, the messenger disappeared from sight.

~

Sieghard had been out with one of his patrols, sweeping one of the burnt-out streets of the Old Town with Dragos’ dogs when he heard the news. Returning to the keep, he found Irene in the audience chamber, reading a long letter from her husband with the Iron Company messenger standing proudly by.

“Commander! Have you heard?” There was no aloofness in her voice, no scrap of disdain or irritation at Sieghard's presence - she was beaming as happily as a child with a new toy. “Alvarr is dead!”

LeSwordfish

2019-10-23, 01:27 PM

Smiling, and still with some effort, Ludo hefted himself to his feet. Truth be told, he had barely given a thought to the siege while still in Savonne, but the end of Sforza's war could only be good news. There would be celebrations soon - at least if Irene had anything to say about it - and if he had anything to say about it, he was going to get involved with them.

OOC
The timing doesn't work out for Ludo to go straight into the Irene/Sieghard scene I imagine, but for now Ludo (now at four wounds?) is going to check out of the hospital and head back to the castle.

TheSummoner

2019-10-23, 02:45 PM

Sieghard

"I have," Sieghard replied "People in the streets are already cheering your husband's victory. Before long, the whole city will know."

The end of the siege had come rather quickly. No doubt Alvarr's supplies were growing lean, but he wouldn't have starved so soon after casting people out of Alvarran. "How did it happen? Were we able to convince his men to open the gates?"

LCP

2019-10-23, 05:57 PM

Sieghard & Ludo

Irene looked down at the letter in her hand. "Muzio writes something about... a mine?" She looked to the Iron Company man who had brought the letter, who nodded. "A tunnel under the wall. He says they cornered Alvarr in the square. Apparently that brute Dolokhov is dead too."

Sieghard could see that the letter was fairly long, but Irene seemed uninterested in the military details. She waved them away with a flick of her hand, making the parchment rustle.

"Muzio says he will be here in four days. I want the streets swept clean and that rabble by the north gate moved out of the way. On Bezahltag I want your men lining the streets in their best uniforms to receive him." It was probably unwise to mention that most of the militia only had one uniform. "You may begin the preparations at once."

OOC: I wrote Sieghard as coming back from elsewhere in the city, so seeing as the hospital is on the castle's doorstep I think Ludo would have ample time to join the scene - join away!

-Sentinel-

2019-10-23, 09:12 PM

8th Nachgeheim

Elsa had returned to the comfort and safety her private chambers the day before, and though she was still absorbed in her studies, she could not miss the buzzing excitement that had taken hold of the castle. More than joy, she felt relief at the news. Hopefully the full and undivided attention of the rulers of the Reaches could now be turned towards the undead threat; conveniently, at the moment it could no longer be denied. More importantly, the war on Alvarr would stop bleeding away the Reaches' precious few resources in food and in fighting men.

She was glad to hear of Alvarr's death. Even the demise of the untrustworthy Dolokhov seemed like a net positive; she had not forgiven the Kislevite for all the lives that his opportunistic hesitancy had cost at Arrow Heap. Now they only had one backstabbing mercenary commander to keep an eye on, and he would most likely be leaving the Reaches soon.

"Any mention of Jaeger? Or Forkbeard?" Elsa inquired.

LCP

2019-10-23, 10:11 PM

At the Castle

If anything could spoil Irene's ebullient mood, it was Elsa arriving on the scene. A flicker of irritation crossed her face at Elsa's typically informal interruption.

"I haven't the first idea who those people are, Hildebrand," she said. "We can't all spend so much time fraternising with the common people as you do. Muzio will be here on the twelfth; you can pester him with your questions when he arrives." She looked Elsa up and down. "Perhaps you might think about making yourself look presentable some time between now and then."

TheSummoner

2019-10-24, 03:34 AM

Sieghard

Sieghard couldn't help but think Dolokhov's death seemed rather convenient given the man's distaste for the Falcons and determination to have Duke Alvarr taken alive. Perhaps it was nothing, but he was looking forward to hearing about the end of the siege from someone who had been there all the same.

"We'll give him a welcome fitting for the lord of the Reaches" Sieghard said.

LCP

2019-10-24, 10:19 AM

At the Castle

"Prince of the Reaches has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" said Irene. "I think it does."

She paused for a moment, lost in visions of crowns and titles.

"Very well, commander," she said, pulling herself back to reality. "You have work to do, and so do I. Everything must be perfect when Muzio arrives." She rose from her seat. "You are dismissed."

LeSwordfish

2019-10-24, 11:43 AM

Ludo had been hoping to find Sieghard or Irene to question, but instead in the castle gateway he found the messenger, dismissed, talking to the other guards and shifting from foot to foot in the manner of one profoundly saddlesore.

"We won, then," he asked. "What did it, Esteban and his cartload of turnips? Is Alvarr dead?"

RossN

2019-10-24, 06:50 PM

Adelbert

Adelbert gave the senior priest a look of wan amusement. As tempting as it was he decided to forgo the explanation about the younger Al-Khansa. 'I am afraid she.... er, he has left town Father Hieronymus.'

Nevertheless the following morning found him trudging around the Old Town looking for a man or woman literate in Arabyan.

OOC:
I guess this is a Gossip test: [roll0] vs 46.

Ideally Adelbert is looking for a scribe though really anyone literate will do - a cartographer say. If nothing turns up Adelbert will consider asking the dwarves. It might be a longshot but given their lengthy history they might have someone who can read one of the older manling languages.

(I am happy to move on quickly though, unless the book reveals incredible secrets.)

The arrival of Cezar cheered Adelbert up a little. As self effacing as the priest was it was also a relief to have someone emotionally and intellectually stable to look after the initiates. The hesitation about using the name 'Nahorek' was also troubling and supported Adelbert's own feelings that the Temple should downplay the link between the vampire and the spirit.

He spent the next week or so engaged in the business of the Temple.

LCP

2019-10-24, 10:53 PM

Adelbert, Earlier

Just as Hieronymus had promised, it wasn't hard for Adelbert to find someone who could read Arabyan script in the Old Town. After some asking around, he was directed to a clerk at a copyist's on the west side of the district, away from the streets the fire had ravaged. Tall and thin, she peered through dusty spectacles at Raqiyah's book.

"You want a translation?" she asked, thumbing through the pages. "It would take some time." Opening the book to its preface, she read what Adelbert assumed was the title. "The abridged histories of Abdul ben Raschid, ben Moussad, ben Osman, as copied by Sahrazad of Lashiek. This book has come a long way."

8th Nachgeheim

By the gate, the messenger was enjoying being the centre of attention. Looking down at the sound of Ludo's voice, he nodded.

"Si," he said, "the Duke is dead. What do you mean by this 'cart of turnips'?" he asked. "Commander Carraciolo and the Captain, they dig under the city wall. Light a fire in the tunnel, e crac - the wall comes down." He slapped the flat of his hand against his fist. "I was there."

TheSummoner

2019-10-25, 05:33 PM

Sieghard

"Fitting for the prince of the Reaches," Sieghard corrected.

He waited outside the door for Elsa and walked with her as they left. "I wouldn't count on Jager being alive. Or Forkbeard, for that matter. Sieges tend to either end in surrender or slaughter."

LeSwordfish

2019-10-25, 05:44 PM

"Who killed Alvarr?" Ludo asked, "The capitano? Carrociolo?"

LCP

2019-10-25, 05:53 PM

Ludo

"He fell in the square," said the messenger. For whatever reason, he seemed a little uncomfortable about getting into the details. "I don't know who took the shot. A lot of people were shooting." Looking around, he licked his lips. "It has been a long ride, my friends. Where can a man get something to drink around here?"

OOC: As you can see he's not champing at the bit to tell the story. Unless you want to do it blow-by-blow, I can take a Gossip test and a list of the info you want to get out of him and give you the upshot of the whole conversation. +10 to the test for each drink you're willing to buy him.

LeSwordfish

2019-10-25, 06:16 PM

"Ah, we can't have you paying for your own drinks with a story like that," Ludo offered. "Come with us, have a few on the Thorns."

OOC
Questions:

What was the general story of what happened? Shooting in the streets - what happened after the walls were breached?
Any news on Jager? (And presumably Elsa will ask what happened to Forkbeard but idk?
What happened to the city after the siege broke - was it ravaged like Savonne?
What happened to Alvarr's body?
What happened to Dolokhov?

RossN

2019-10-25, 07:56 PM

Adelbert

'Thank you, a translation would be appreciated,' Adelbert said, though there was a touch of hesitancy to his voice. Having read The Life and Words of Abdul ben Raschid he was less sure of the use of a mere abridged history but perhaps there would still be something to it.

Then it was back to the Temple to his day to day duties - and to wait.

LCP

2019-10-25, 09:31 PM

Ludo

With the messenger’s horse safely stabled, Ludo and the rest of his audience of curious Thorns repaired to the Duke of Aquitaine, there to ply him with wine and questions. Once they had got him away from the subject of Alvarr’s death, it was easy to get him to recount the story of the siege.

“Commander Carraciolo had us digging that damned mine for weeks. It was worse than the Villa Vennia – all rock and stone. The Captain had tried scaling the walls, you see, but it didn’t work. The Duke Alvarr, he builds good walls.”

Another cup of wine – passed his way by Ludo – went down the hatch.

“Of course, for the Iron Company, is not our first siege. We dig under the wall with wooden posts” - he made an up-and-down gesture - “to hold the roof of the tunnel. When the day of the attack comes, we light a big fire down there. The posts come down, and the wall comes down too, si?”

“As soon as the wall comes down, we are ready. The Iron Company attacks with the Storm Swords, so that all Alvarr’s men are holding the breach. Once we have them,” - he made a gripping motion - “Falkenwald and the ogres, they smash the west gate. Come around behind, so Alvarr’s men cannot get back to his castle.”

“We corner them in a square, in front of the chapel. Only the old men – many of the young ones, they surrender, or they run.” He took another swig. “The Captain has the north side of the square, Falkenwald has the south, and the old bear Dolokhov goes forward with a flag of truce.”

The soldier made a face, as though his wine was sour. “The old man convinced them to lay down their weapons. They knew it was over for them.” He kept drinking all the same. “All this time, the Captain is watching, on his white horse. He rides up to accept the surrender – but the Duke, he says something to him. I did not hear it, but I see the Captain’s face.” He drew a hand over his own face. “Like thunder.”

“Now the truce is no truce at all. The Captain gives the order, and bang, bang, the Falcons shoot them down. Carraciolo gives the order, and we march forwards through the smoke. Dolokhov and the Duke, they are already dead – or dying, I don’t know. Some of the Duke’s men and the Storm Swords are still standing. We finish them with the pikes.” He finished what was left of his drink. “It’s hard to kill a man who was fighting beside you just before. But this is war, you know?”

“Afterwards, the Captain tells us Dolokhov and the Duke were plotting together, to raise a new army and return to the Reaches. He says they take advantage of his mercy – that he never planned to let them go. And now we will have peace.”

He fell into thoughtful silence, soon interrupted by the others’ questions. He did not know what had become of the Duke’s body, nor of Jager – he didn’t know the man well enough to recognise him. On what had happened to Alvarran, he claimed the Iron Company had kept its discipline – but Ludo suspected a hardened mercenary’s definition of what was an acceptable amount of pillaging might differ from his own.

“It’s not like there was much to take,” the messenger added, casting around to catch the barmaid’s eye. “If we had kept the siege another week, they would have been making soup out of their boots. Old Alvarr was stubborn as a mule, to hold out so long. Him and his people both.”

LeSwordfish

2019-10-27, 04:00 PM

"Dolokhov turned on you?" Ludo asked, surprised. "I knew he wasn't on our side. Remember how late he was at Arrow Heap?"

LCP

2019-10-27, 05:47 PM

The messenger nodded unsteadily. "He was," he said, trying to focus on the wine cup in front of him. "He was late."

Swaying to his feet, he tried to excuse himself from the table. "Scusi," he said, heading for the door. "I need to take a piss."

OOC: Let me know when you're done with this guy. He might need a hand finding his way back to wherever he's sleeping tonight.

RossN

2019-10-28, 08:56 AM

Adelbert

Taking a break from his studies Adelbert traveled to the Market in search of a tailor. Ideally he would have liked a place to live too but given the current situation it seemed unlikely he'd find anywhere to rent.

'Robes maketh the man...,' Adelbert muttered to himself. Given his exalted position he really had to look the part, especially with the Conclave coming up...

OC:
Shopping!Gossip: [roll0] vs 46.

LeSwordfish

2019-10-29, 08:51 AM

Ludo found to his surprise that he wasn't even all that uncomfortable about what sounded a lot like Sforza ordering an ally butchered. "Let's get you back to the barracks, then."

LCP

2019-10-29, 10:40 PM

Rising from their seats, Ludo and the Thorns guided the unsteady messenger back to the castle. After the Tilean had been poured into a vacant bunk and left to sleep, Hanna exchanged an uneasy glance with Ludo.

“You don’t believe it, right?” she asked. “That the Storm Swords were going to turn? I mean… it doesn’t make any sense.”

The following days passed slowly. While Sieghard worked on making his men ready for the Captain’s return, Adelbert saw to the affairs of the Temple, checking in periodicially on the progress of his new robes at the tailor he had found on Seamstress’ Street.

On Marktag, Elsa took the opportunity to go up to the High Market, looking for Dwimmulson trinkets to go with her own new clothes. Though she only had to cross the North Market square, she noticed the way heads turned and whispers spread as she made her way to the base of the Rock. They were not friendly looks that followed her.

Ludo, meanwhile, was working flat-out to find shelter for the people still camped outside the north gate. It wasn’t easy. Few of them had money, and Savonne’s wells of charity had already been drawn dry. Commandeering as many of of the militia as he could, Ludo set about drawing up lists of untenanted living space - but when the people they had housed in the warehouses and militia tents by the river heard of this, they began to protest. They were born in Savonne, they said, not like these frightened farmers from the west Downs. If the Captain’s men had room and board to give away, it should be given to them first.

By the eleventh, there was still a small, sad huddle of tents outside the north gate, Ludo and his men having found shelter for only around half the Downs folk camped there. With the Captain’s arrival drawing ever closer, Ludo had no choice but to move them over to the larger camp beside the river.

Bezahltag, 12th Nachgeheim

The army was sighted late on Bezahltag morning, its progress marked by a rising plume of dust on the Alvarran road. People gathered on the walls to watch it approach, parents hoisting their children on their shoulders to peer over the age-worn parapet. Despite the city’s mixed feelings towards its newest lord, quite a crowd was gathering to see him return.

Irene had done her part to make sure it was worth their while. The streets were swept clean, the beggars and street vendors chased away. Sieghard’s militia lined the route the army would take from the north gate to the keep, their motley mix of uniforms scrubbed as clean as the castle washerwomen could scrub. From every arch and gatehouse along the way, the black-and-gold banners of the Sforzas hung, most of them stitched specifically for the occasion.

It was well past noon when the army entered the city, drums beating and trumpets playing a triumphal march. Sforza rode at the head of the column on his white horse, regarding the assembled watchers with a regal air. Behind him marched the massed ranks of the Iron Company, their banner flying at their head - and behind them rode Carraciolo, carrying the torn and bloodied boar's-head standard of Duke Alvarr.

In the centre of the parade, a couple of Abdul’s carts carried a small number of bedraggled prisoners. Sieghard thought he recognised Janos Forkbeard among them - the old man’s face was so filthy it was hard to be sure, one eye covered with a bloody bandage.

The prisoners ducked their heads as opportunists in the crowd jeered and threw rotten vegetables, eager to vent their anger on anyone less fortunate than themselves. The thunderous tread of the next mercenaries in line quickly stopped the barrage before it got out of hand: looming above the crowd like miniature mountains, the surviving ogres plodded up the road towards the keep, the Sermena Gamecocks double-timing along behind them. The halfling archers looked as if they had been more than a little bloodied - Ludo saw Gaffwick Grubb walking with crutches, while young Greenacre had an empty sleeve where his right arm had used to be. There were others, too, whose faces were missing from the march.

The last regiment in line were the Falcons. Armour and arquebuses gleaming in the late summer sun, they looked as neat and professional as the Iron Company pikes, though far fewer in number. Jurgen Falkenwald rode at their head, and the woman Gunda rode beside him, carrying another captured banner. Sieghard recognised it at once - it was the crossed sword and thunderbolt of the Storm Swords.

~

In the castle courtyard, Irene Sforza was waiting for her husband, resplendent in an emerald-green gown that had probably cost more than all the supplies that Ludo and Sieghard had shipped to the front. Riding through the open gates, Sforza swung himself down from the saddle and spread his arms to greet her. She rushed forwards to embrace him with a bubbling laugh, the warmth of her affection seeming to catch even the Captain off-guard. It was one of the few times Elsa thought she had seen Irene truly happy - not superior, not self-satisfied, but simply happy.

<It’s really over?> she asked him, as the Iron Company began to file in through the gate, respectfully diverting around their lord and lady. <He’s really dead?>

<He really is,> said Sforza, unable to keep himself from grinning. He unhooked a sword from his belt and presented it to her - Elsa saw a glint of what looked like silver on its hilt. <This is his sword. He must have taken it from the elf.>

<Ugh, Muzio, I don’t care about his stupid sword,> she said, pushing the weapon away. Her words were harsh, but her tone was playful. <You know what I want.>

<And you will have it, my love,> said Sforza. He planted a kiss on her lips. <Alvarran is ours. The Reaches are ours. You will be a queen, with a golden crown.>

Irene’s delighted laughter was so infectious that Elsa could almost forget who it was coming from. As she hugged her husband again, another sound was rising from outside the gates - the babble of many voices, raised together.

~

In the broad street between the west gate of the castle and the Great Hospital, Sieghard became aware of a disturbance in the crowd, pushing against the thin line of his militia that separated the marching army from the crowd. A small group were waving their hands above the heads of his men, clambering over one another in an attempt to draw the attention of the passing soldiers.

“Where’s the Captain?” one of them shouted, bellowing his lungs out to be heard. “Let us speak to the Captain! We need justice!”
“Where’s the witch?” a woman screamed. “What’s he going to do with the witch?”

The carts with the prisoners were now passing through the castle gate, the ogres and halflings close behind. Drawing his horse to a halt, Falkenwald looked down to where Sieghard was standing.

“Trouble with the locals?” he asked, a picture of polite concern. “If your men need any assistance, just say the word.”
Riding up beside him, the woman Gunda rested the captured standard against her shoulder, and gave a predatory smile. “No charge,” she added.

RossN

2019-10-30, 08:33 AM

Adelbert

On the day the Tilean and his lackeys arrived Adelbert had knocked on Cezar's door. The priest of Verena had not gone to see the army enter; the mental image of Sforza triumphant was every bit bad enough without having to witness the reality.

'Brother Cezar, I wish the appropriate ceremonies to be conducted for the late Duke to guide him safely to Morr's realm. Obviously this cannot be done in public and I highly doubt the body is accessible but if anything can be done for His Grace it must be done. I shall pay for any expense.' As he spoke Adelbert tried to keep his voice and expression calm, the anger and grief boiling away inside him. He dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands, almost to the point of drawing blood.

LeSwordfish

2019-10-30, 01:25 PM

"I was there when Dolokhov specifically requested Alvarr was taken alive," Ludo said, "and remember how late he was to the battle at Arrow Heap? Only joined in once we'd broken the back of them? I think him and the duke were old friends, and when push came to shove he wasn't willing to kill him. That... that's not entirely the same as turning on us, no. But it doesn't surprise me, as such."

"I'm not going to cry for him." he said shortly. "He waited to let us beat Alvarr himself and then joined in after Makeda and Baldo and Luther died."

TheSummoner

2019-10-30, 03:15 PM

Sieghard

"It's a long story," Sieghard said, exhausted by the whole thing. He tried to keep his tone polite. "Thank you for your offer, but I'm sure we can handle it,"

"No shoving!" he barked to the crowd. "Captain Sforza only just arrived! Keep order and he'll address you when he's ready!"

Command vs 64.

[roll0]
[roll1]

LCP

2019-10-30, 07:58 PM

8th Nachgeheim - Ludo

"Right," said Hanna, sounding more than a little unsure. "No tears for sellswords."

She didn't sound like she was brimming with sympathy for Dolokhov either - more general unease. Saying nothing more, she turned and headed back into the barracks.

12th Nachgeheim - Adelbert

"I'm afraid the rites of my order mean very little without the body, Father Schreiber," said Cezar in his calm, gentle voice. "I would hope they were done for him in Alvarran. Here, all we can do is offer a prayer for his safe repose in Morr's realm." He examined Adelbert's face, clearly seeing how deeply Sforza's triumphal parade had affected him. "I would be happy to pray with you."

Sieghard

Sieghard's intimidating appearance on the scene dispersed the nascent mob before it could start to grow, only the most die-hard of those shouting staying around to meet him face-to-face. No longer quite so outnumbered, the militia firmly held them back, their shouts absorbed into the thunder of drums and marching feet as the army carried on by.

Offering a casual salute to Sieghard, Falkenwald turned his horse and rode on.

RossN

2019-10-30, 08:26 PM

Adelbert

Adelbert frowned. 'I see...' He was silent for a long moment, then. 'In that case I have little choice; I must go to Alvarran at once and recover the Duke's remains. I don't believe for a moment that glorified gutter thug out there on a horse gave Alvarr a proper burial. I failed the Duke in life - I won't fail him in death.'

He sighed, then took a hand to Cezar's shoulder. 'Thank you my friend, your prayers will help, but I suspect I'll need money - and accomplices - too.'

-Sentinel-

2019-10-30, 10:45 PM

Elsa -- 12th Nachgeheim

It was Elsa's first opportunity to try on her new set of expensive clothes, crafted to look vaguely like a military uniform in keeping with her role as battle wizard. She knew she could not rival Irene Sforza in terms of extravagance (nor would she want to), and so she had gone in another direction, aiming for the sort of intimidating and functional outfit that a king's faithful enforcer or bodyguard might wear while on duty in a formal setting. She also wore the ivory bracelets gifted to her by Sieghard and a simple brass torc that she had bought from the dwarfs the other day at a price that struck her as entirely unreasonable.

In terms of general aesthetic, I picture Elsa's noble garb as similar to Thalmor robes from Skyrim, except without a hood or any headgear.

As Sforza's army filed into the city, Elsa peered at the prisoners in the carts. It was probably too much to hope for that a hated familiar face such as Arnulf or Fauchard was among them. She spotted Forkbeard among the captives but took no pleasure in seeing him there, looking so badly mistreated. Irritating as the man was, he deserved no worse than just being stripped of his titles and possibly exiled.

Gods, I hope that's not all the men Sforza left alive out of Alvarr's entire army. We'll need a great deal of soldiers soon.

Elsa's gaze rested on the late Alvarr's sword when Sforza presented it to his wife. She remembered seeing it tear through Makeda's armor; at the time she had wondered if it was enchanted or just wielded by a very strong arm. She reached out with her mind to detect any magic.

OOC
Magical Sense 88: [roll0]

When Elsa started hearing cries of witch from the crowd, she gritted her teeth and tried to keep a tight lid on her fight-or-flight instinct. They would not try any violence; not with Sforza and his army right here in the streets. But they damn well intended to keep the pressure on him. If Sforza was faced with the prospect of a full-blown revolt unless he had his wizard hanged, some hard choices might have to be made soon.

LCP

2019-10-31, 11:54 AM

Adelbert

Cezar looked quietly concerned. "The conclave is in four days," he said. "I doubt Father Hieronymus would want to hold it without you present. If this is what you want, why not let us send some of the older initiates to Alvarran in your place? It would be a good test of their abilities."

The Castle Courtyard

Sforza had looked round briefly at the sound of the shouting from outside, but didn't seem to pay the words much heed. As the army continued to march through the gate, he kissed his wife again and walked over to Elsa.

"Hildebrand," he said, stiffly. From his manner, Elsa wondered how wise it had been to let Irene send her report sight unseen. Then again, it would have been difficult to have stopped her. "I think we have much to discuss. Come find me later." He looked around. "Where is Sieghard?"

As the last of Sforza's column marched in through the gates, Sieghard was bringing his militia in behind them. The courtyard was as packed as he could ever remember seeing it - up until now, the militia had had the luxury of being able to spread out in the old barracks of the cavernous crusader castle. Now he could see they were going to have to fight for their living space.

The smoke of cook-fires was already wafting from the kitchens, and as Sforza stood surveying his troops, Irene glided up beside him once again. <The servants are preparing a small banquet for your officers, Muzio,> she said. She cast a sidelong glance at Elsa. <I suppose of Hildebrand wishes she can attend as well.>

OOC: Sforza doesn't have any business so urgent that he has to discuss it while standing in the courtyard - let me know if you guys want to talk to him or any of the other returning characters, or if you'd like to move on.

RossN

2019-10-31, 06:35 PM

Adelbert

Adelbert looked doubtful. 'I'm not sure it will be so easy to find Alvarr's remains. Still... if you think the initiates can manage it perhaps that is the way to go about this. You can send the best candidates to me.'

LCP

2019-10-31, 09:14 PM

Adelbert

Cezar gave an equanimous shrug. "If they encounter difficulties, they can write to us for help. I don't know these initiates as well as Brother Liebrecht did," - he made the sign of the raven across his breast - "but Petre and Nastassa are the oldest. They should be ready for some responsibility."

RossN

2019-11-01, 12:42 PM

Adelbert

'A fair point. Very well we'll try that route first.'

LCP

2019-11-02, 12:29 AM

Day drew into evening, and the returning army settled into the kind of merry-making that only followed the end of a long campaign. Iron Company men swayed this way and that through the now-crowded courtyard of the keep, singing Tilean marching songs. The taverns and brothels of the Savonne did a brisk business with the bands of soldiers that roved from door to door, while under the shadow of the north wall of the castle, the remaining ogres roasted a whole ox over an open fire. The smell was delicious, but the few men who were drunk enough to enquire learned that yes, the ogres were planning to eat all of it themselves.

In the castle’s ancient banqueting hall, Sforza and his officers were enjoying a different kind of feast. Irene had really pushed the boat out - course after course came and went in the light of a forest of lamps, servants hurrying anxiously this way and that with plates of richly-flavoured meats and jugs of aged red wine. Old Mouna watched with gimlet eyes from the shadows of the kitchen doorway, ensuring that everything was done as the Lady Sforza desired.

After rattling about for so long in the ancient fortress with only each other and Irene for company, it felt almost strange to see so many faces around the table. Carraciolo, Al-Makir and Falkenwald sat closest to the Captain and his wife: besides them, they were also joined by Leona Groz, Doctor Bianco, the most senior of the surviving Southlanders, and a very intimidated-looking halfling from the Sermena Gamecocks. Valdes and Barbaro were the only ones missing: Valdes and his men been left in Alvarran to keep order, while Barbaro had apparently been sent to Putbad on ‘important business’.

“It’s good to see you again, Sieghard,” said Carraciolo, as Sieghard took his seat. “You had us a little worried with how long that first shipment took, hey? A man can get tired of catching sheep for his dinner.”

“Ignore my friend Giovanni, my friend,” said Abdul, smiling. “The Captain is very grateful for your hard work securing our line of supply. I am sorry I was not here to help - I know how tricky these grain merchants can be.” His eyes flicked down the table towards Elsa. “And I have heard grain merchants were not the worst you had to deal with.”

Once the main courses had been and gone, and the returning heroes had told their share of war stories from the siege, a lull descended in the conversation. Carraciolo took the opportunity to begin thumping the table with his fists, crying out for a speech - a call that was taken up by the other officers around the table. Even the halfling joined in, seeming anxious to fit in. Grinning and waving for silence, the Captain rose to his feet.

<My friends!> he said, raising his voice in fine oratorical fashion. <My brothers. I cannot pretend I have not given… some thought on what to say on this day.> A polite ripple of laughter ran around the table. <A day we all knew was coming since the day we set foot in the Reaches!>

Carraciolo and Al-Makir cheered loudly. Falkenwald smiled and took a sip of his wine.

<When we came to this land,> Sforza continued, <what did we find? A pack of wolves, snapping at each other’s throats. A country where every man with two friends who could hold a spear called himself a prince. Well, we have shown them that we are not such little men. We came here to be kings, and a kingdom is what we have made.>

More cheers, more pounding of fists.

<My friends, this victory belongs to you! You who have fought beside me from Tobaro to the Araby shore, from Last Water to the gates of Alvarr’s last fortress. I promised each of you that if you fought by my side, you would go home as rich men. If you wish to call upon that promise now, I will honour it. Every man here has earned his reward.>

<Courage is the virtue that cannot be counterfeited. You have had the courage to fight beside me, to help me carve the name of Sforza into the stones of this land.> Quiet descended as his gaze swept the table. <But what I have done up to this is nothing. I am only at the beginning of the course I must run. I ask you, do you have the courage to stay with me? When your grandchildren ask what part you had to play, will you tell them from a stool in a Tobaro tavern? Or will you tell them as a lord of the Reaches?>

The thunder of fists from Carraciolo and the others seemed to answer his question. He raised his cup. “Sangue e oro!” he boomed.

“Sangue e oro!” the table toasted back.

"What is he saying?" whispered Leona, leaning over towards Elsa - she hadn’t understood a word of the Captain’s Tilean. Before Elsa had time to answer, Irene had already risen to her feet.

<Muzio has spoken more beautifully than I ever could,> she lied, with total sincerity. <But I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for what you have done for us. As long as there is a Sforza in Savonne, none of your names will ever be forgotten.> Her gaze passed round the table, hardening as it passed over Elsa as if to say: not you. Just as quickly as it had appeared, the look was gone, and she gave the assembled officers a radiant smile. <It gives me great pleasure to say you are all invited as honoured guests to our coronation on the twenty-first.>

Beaming, she sat back down again as the table erupted in cheers, basking in their adulation with the pure, unadulterated happiness of a child with a new toy. Poor Leona Groz just looked blank as she waited for the cheering to die down.

~

After the banquet had ended and the servants had begun clearing away the dishes, Elsa rose and followed the Captain through into the great audience chamber of the keep. Gloomy and echoing, it was a stark contrast to the celebrations that were still ongoing in the barracks and the courtyard. Alvarr’s captured banner had been propped against the wall, behind the throne where the Duke had used to sit.

“So,” said Sforza, taking a seat. “I hear you have been busy.”

LeSwordfish

2019-11-02, 02:45 AM

“It’s good to see you again, Sieghard,” said Carraciolo, as Sieghard took his seat. “You had us a little worried with how long that first shipment took, hey? A man can get tired of catching sheep for his dinner.”

“Ignore my friend Giovanni, my friend,” said Abdul, smiling. “The Captain is very grateful for your hard work securing our line of supply. I am sorry I was not here to help - I know how tricky these grain merchants can be.” His eyes flicked down the table towards Elsa. “And I have heard grain merchants were not the worst you had to deal with.”

"A gentleman felt he should have a cut of the captain's business." Ludo explained. "We took him down off the wall a few days ago to hang a banner in his place. And, of course, the business at the temple. Has the captain passed the details of that on to you?"

TheSummoner

2019-11-02, 03:38 AM

Sieghard

Sieghard nodded as Ludo spoke. "A necessary delay, unfortunately." He took a long drink. "The man was stockpiling blackpowder. Had we been less cautious in dealing with him, the shipment may have ended up at the bottom of the Azril."

LCP

2019-11-02, 05:26 PM

Carraciolo raised his eyebrows. "Blackpowder?" he said. "We could have used some of that, digging the tunnel. Wonder where he was getting it from."

"Bringing it down the river no doubt, friend Giovanni," said Abdul. "All the blackpowder in the Reaches comes down the Azril. More or less." He took a sip of his wine. "Expensive stuff."

-Sentinel-

2019-11-03, 12:22 AM

Elsa ate with a will—she had not eaten enough lately, focused as she was on her reading—but remained sober, drinking only a single cup of wine over the course of the evening. She knew she was currently on a tightrope after the Savonne fire, and she needed a clear mind if she was to navigate the next few days. Though she found Sforza's good cheer encouraging, she was less than enthusiastic when he announced that he was only getting started. Hopefully he meant that he intended to rebuild and strengthen the country he now governed... not look for more territory to conquer.

With no other friends nearby, Elsa tried to strike up a friendly conversation with Leona Groz, awkwardly asking about her baby and the state of commerce in Putbad. She studiously avoided Sforza's gaze.

But the meeting with the Captain was inevitable.

"So," said Sforza, taking a seat in the audience chamber, after retiring from the festivities. "I hear you have been busy."

"We have," Elsa said carefully, well aware that Sforza likely intended the singular you. "Priests murdered. An attack of the restless dead on the temple of Morr. I'd like to say we won, but some of those responsible managed to escape... and they include a vampire of considerable power. The threat is dire indeed."

LCP

2019-11-03, 10:39 AM

"And in the process of looking for them," said Sforza, "you set fire to my city." He raised an eyebrow at Elsa, a focused glint in his eye. "Or do you not think that worth the mention?"

-Sentinel-

2019-11-03, 07:48 PM

Elsa pursed her lips. She supposed it was no use to deny it. "I do have a share of responsibility in this. I had it under control, right up until I lost consciousness... and then it was out of my hands. We owe the dwarfs and our militia a great deal."

LCP

2019-11-03, 11:48 PM

"I already owe the Dwimmulsons a great deal," said Sforza, sharply. "I did not need to owe them more."

He gave a curt exhalation of breath. "They came here for your book, yes? That is what Irene's letter said." He didn't wait for a response. "Where are this necromancer and his allies now?"

-Sentinel-

2019-11-04, 04:47 PM

"I couldn't say for sure," admitted Elsa. "They escaped very fast, taking advantage of a chaotic situation, and we know Klammenberg as someone who travels a lot. But they have allies in the degenerates of Rivermouth, who, last I checked with my familiar, had moved to Gilbertus' Manse. It's a ruined building in the swamps near Ravenskird."

LCP

2019-11-04, 06:21 PM

"The swamps," said Sforza. He gave an exasperated sigh. "Mannaggia..."

"One thing at a time," he said, after some time sunk in thought. "First, the coronation. Then, we cut the head off this necromancer. Then, we deal with the book. As long as we have it here, others will come for it. The caballera had the right idea, to send it somewhere far away."

He shook his head. "So much trouble for something of so little use." He looked to Elsa. "It is of no use, yes?"

-Sentinel-

2019-11-04, 11:33 PM

Elsa did not like that last question much. She answered truthfully: "I know no one alive who can even read it. And it has a mind of its own; it is a living, thinking thing, and likely loyal only to its creator, the Great Necromancer. I would not dare use it, even if I could."

LCP

2019-11-05, 12:21 PM

"Very well then," said Sforza. "The north road is as clear as we can make it now. I will have Daniele write to the temple of Magritta, to ask them to take it off our hands." He stroked his beard in thought. "It will do no harm to win some favour with the Aguila Ultima. In the meantime, we can bury the damned thing. Let them bring shovels if they want to try to steal it again."

His mind seemingly made up, he rose from his seat. "Find the necromancer. Use whatever means necessary. I don't want conjecture or rumours, I want facts." He drew in a deep breath. "When the coronation is done we will mount this creature's head on a pike. Perhaps we can even send it to Magritta with the book, and the caballera's remains."

He fixed Elsa with a searching stare.

"And Hildebrand... the next time you have such an 'accident' as this, I will not protect you." He paused, watching her face. "The war is over for now. I need a wizard who can do more than start fires." Another pause. "Do we understand one another?"

-Sentinel-

2019-11-05, 06:52 PM

The temple of Mymidia was pretty far down the list of clergies that Elsa would have considered when it came to safeguarding the Book. Not that she distrusted the Myrmidians; she merely considered necromantic artifacts to be far outside their domain. She supposed they had many soldiers at their beck and call, which was a definite plus, but if she could call upon anyone in the Old World to do something about the Book, she would choose either the College of Light, or the Amethyst Order. However, bringing the Colleges into the picture would also put her in great danger, and she doubted that her good faith in handing over the Book of Nagash would be enough to spare her from execution as a rogue wizard.

"And Hildebrand... the next time you have such an 'accident' as this, I will not protect you."

"Neither would I expect you to," Elsa assured him. "It won't happen again."

She sensed that the conversation was nearing an end, so she said quickly: "It would be useful to know how the chips have fallen in the Raven Hills, politically. Wadim, their holy man, may have been watching the vampire for longer than we have. Also, two of the Jarl's inner circle have seen the undead threat with their own eyes and lived to tell the tale. I believe Morr's Seat is now, if not our friend, at least the enemy of our enemy."

A smile tugged at the edges of her lips. "Oh, and we'll have to think of a new name for Alvarran."

LCP

2019-11-05, 07:07 PM

She sensed that the conversation was nearing an end, so she said quickly: "It would be useful to know how the chips have fallen in the Raven Hills, politically. Wadim, their holy man, may have been watching the vampire for longer than we have. Also, two of the Jarl's inner circle have seen the undead threat with their own eyes and lived to tell the tale. I believe Morr's Seat is now, if not our friend, at least the enemy of our enemy."

"Jarl Rorik is dead," said Sforza. "His allies are gone, his army - if you can call it that - is beaten. If his people don't agree they are now part of my domain, they will have to be corrected."

He didn't sound like he thought that would be difficult.

"I will be appointing lords to govern my new lands. If you think the hill tribes can be useful, you may accompany whoever receives that appointment."

A smile tugged at the edges of her lips. "Oh, and we'll have to think of a new name for Alvarran."

That at least seemed to lighten the Captain's mood.

"Apparently before Alvarr arrived, the locals called it 'Butcher's Cross'," he said. "Irena has a nice ring to it, don't you think? La Castello Irena."

-Sentinel-

2019-11-06, 12:20 AM

"I will be appointing lords to govern my new lands. If you think the hill tribes can be useful, you may accompany whoever receives that appointment."

"Oh, I... don't think they like me much over there," admitted Elsa. The Battle of the Burning Hill had claimed a fair few Raven Hills lives, and she had played a not insignificant part in that. "I would welcome a chance to meet Wadim in the foreseeable future, either in Morr's Seat or here. See if he knows anything we don't about what we're facing."

"Apparently before Alvarr arrived, the locals called it 'Butcher's Cross'. Irena has a nice ring to it, don't you think? La Castello Irena."

"I'm... sure the town's almost-namesake will be overjoyed," said Elsa, dodging the question with a perfectly truthful statement. "I would add that names that reference shepherds or the Pass would also be evocative, readily accepted by the Reaches' natives, and likely to stand the test of time."

OOC
I believe it would be Il Castello, not La Castello, as the word has a masculine gender. (I don't speak Italian, but French is pretty close.)

LCP

2019-11-06, 12:37 AM

"Oh, I... don't think they like me much over there," admitted Elsa. The Battle of the Burning Hill had claimed a fair few Raven Hills lives, and she had played a not insignificant part in that. "I would welcome a chance to meet Wadim in the foreseeable future, either in Morr's Seat or here. See if he knows anything we don't about what we're facing."

"They don't like you very much here either, from what I have heard," said Sforza, unimpressed by Elsa's reluctance. "Sometimes one has to settle for being feared instead. Go, don't go, it makes no difference to me. If you want to find this man, I leave it to you."

"I'm... sure the town's almost-namesake will be overjoyed," said Elsa, dodging the question with a perfectly truthful statement. "I would add that names that reference shepherds or the Pass would also be evocative, readily accepted by the Reaches' natives, and likely to stand the test of time."

"Shepherds?" said Sforza, incredulous. "You would take a city, with blood and battle, and name it after shepherds? I think you have had too much to drink." He looked her up and down. "Or perhaps not enough."

He waved her graciously away.

"Go on, go back to your friends. This should be a night for celebration. Enjoy it. And tomorrow," he added, "find me this necromancer."

-Sentinel-

2019-11-06, 11:10 PM

Elsa gave Sforza a quick nod and salute and walked out. That had gone better than she expected. She had failed him several times before, but at least she remained useful enough to keep around. She aimed to keep working on the second part and avoid the first.

If she caused one disaster too many, she would most likely not only lose her employment. She would lose her head. Such was life for a wizard, it seemed, no matter the country you were in. You were either a living weapon in someone else's hands, or you were on the run from those who wanted you dead. There did not exist much of a middle ground. Perhaps, if she survived all this, she would move to some sleepy village far away from here and lead a quiet life, never using magic again or letting anyone know where she was from and who she had once been. It seemed to be the only way a rogue wizard, or any wizard for that matter, could get a happy ending; free from bondage, or the long arm of a misguided justice, or the pressure to be useful.

But truth to be told, she doubted she would live to see it.

Death was everywhere. Death had breathed down Elsa's neck before, and would again. Each day since fleeing the Colleges was a day stolen from Morr. Each month was an exploit, each year a small miracle. Her luck was bound to run out. She needed to stay sharp as a knife, but she also needed to enjoy life while she could. It was a balance that was sometimes hard to keep.

In that spirit, Elsa paused to consider whether she should follow Sforza's advice and celebrate, or retire to her chambers early.

Then she realized she could do both at once.

She just needed Sieghard.

OOC: Done for the night.

RossN

2019-11-09, 05:03 PM

Adelbert

The following morning after prayers Adelbert made his way to the Keep. He was hardly relishing the sight of the Tilean in situ but he tried to put that out of his mind, and concentrate on his task. Trying to ignore all else he rapped on Elsa's chamber door.

'Good morning. I hope you are feeling a bit more recovered because it is time we discuss matters. Maybe over breakfast at the Duke?' Adelbert didn't say it aloud but he was fidgeting, clearly anxious to leave as soon as possible.

-Sentinel-

2019-11-10, 03:40 PM

There seemed to be a brief moment of agitation behind the door, including some muttered cursing.

Then a stern Shhh!

Then Elsa's hurried voice: "Uh... Yes! Yes! Go on ahead, we'll—I'll be there in a moment!"

At the Duke

It took a while for Sieghard and Elsa to arrive at the Duke, but coincidentally, they walked in at the same time.

"Sforza wants me to find the vampire or her allies," said Elsa, early on in the discussion. "I've sent Morrslieb on a flyby of Gilbertus' Manse, to see if anyone seems to live there."

She kept her voice low, as there were a lot of ears around here.

RossN

2019-11-10, 04:43 PM

Adelbert

A blushing anointed priest quickly withdrew, trying his best not to let his mind wander.

At the Duke

Adelbert had sent a messenger to the Dwarfs in the hopes Urgrim could attend the meeting. As it happened he was the first to arrive and was about to eat his porridge when Elsa and Sieghard arrived. He pretended not to notice.

'That's good thinking,' Adelbert said, his own voice quiet. 'I think you should address the Conclave Elsa... I know, I know you aren't exactly the most religious person around but you are expert in the arcane. I know Urgrim has spoken to the priests here but it might not be a bad idea for him to tell the newcomers. We'll be electing a new high priest or priestess so getting all the information we can is important.'

TheSummoner

2019-11-11, 04:14 PM

Sieghard

It was no small relief when Sieghard realized it had been Adelbert knocking at the door rather than one of the servants. He had warned Elsa that they would have to be more careful now that the keep was fuller than it had ever been. Of course, it still hadn't taken much persuading to have him sneak away from the feast with her.

"Hopefully you won't be needing me to speak with them," Sieghard said. "With the war over, I was planning to head to Manaan's Keep to fetch the spear."

-Sentinel-

2019-11-12, 11:39 PM

'That's good thinking,' Adelbert said, his own voice quiet. 'I think you should address the Conclave Elsa... I know, I know you aren't exactly the most religious person around but you are expert in the arcane. I know Urgrim has spoken to the priests here but it might not be a bad idea for him to tell the newcomers. We'll be electing a new high priest or priestess so getting all the information we can is important.'
"Hmm. I'm willing to try, if they'll let me," said Elsa thoughtfully.

Like Adelbert said, she was not much given to spirituality. However, somewhat paradoxically, the fall of the Temple of Morr had provided ample evidence of the power of the Aethyr as manifested through religion. It had taken long planning and the alignment of many conditions for Nahorek and his minions to even be capable of threatening the Temple. And though the priesthood of the Reaches was now greatly weakened, what was left of it would likely prove essential to victory.

"At least they won't insist we hand over the Book, this time around. But they're welcome to help us protect it. In the absence of political leaders that the common folk actually like or trust, perhaps we can also get the priests to use their influence to steer their flock in the right direction to fight the new war. For example, burn the dead, not the wizard."

LeSwordfish

2019-11-13, 04:57 AM

"Did you ask Sforza about giving the book to the dwarves?" Ludo asked.

RossN

2019-11-13, 12:49 PM

Adelbert

Adelbert shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 'Burning the dead has certain... ahem... theological implications. Believe me Elsa when you die you'll thank me that I didn't have you cremated. Still, we can see what additional measures we can take.'

He turned to Sieghard and nodded thoughtfully. 'Sound thinking. I'm assuming you will be doing this discretely? I think we can safely assume that the enemy will be spying on us.'

Thragka

2019-11-13, 04:33 PM

The Duke

"Oh! Hello, folks." Urgrim had walked in to the common room at the Duke, and spotted the others. The ranger was far cheerier and dirtier – in equal measure – than he'd been in the days after Geheimnisnacht, and his clothes had a certain lived-in look. "Good to find you here. I left the city for a few days - needed some air, and space. But with the princeling returning, thought I'd better see how things were. Any news?" He stepped aside for a moment to order breakfast, before dragging a chair over to the table.

-Sentinel-

2019-11-14, 12:20 AM

"Did you ask Sforza about giving the book to the dwarves?" Ludo asked.

"May have slipped my mind," admitted Elsa.

To be honest I thought we'd already handed it over.

'Burning the dead has certain... ahem... theological implications. Believe me Elsa when you die you'll thank me that I didn't have you cremated. Still, we can see what additional measures we can take.'

Elsa's eyebrows went up in confusion. "What do you mean, 'theological implications'? A body is just... a lump of meat. It's the soul that passes Morr's gate, is it not? Also I fully expect you to have me cremated if you outlive me. Or I swear my spirit will return to haunt you."

RossN

2019-11-14, 07:46 PM

Adelbert

'Welcome Urgrim,' Adelbert said, smiling at the dwarf and moving to make space for the new chair. 'We're still deciding what to do.'

Turning back to Elsa he hesitated, then decided mentioning he was trying to retrieve the Duke's remains would go down poorly in the current company. 'Perhaps you should speak to Brother Cesar on the matter.'

TheSummoner

2019-11-15, 06:42 AM

Sieghard

"If he's got eyes on us, I'm not sure I can be discreet enough for it to matter," Sieghard replied. He hadn't noticed seen Urgrim enter. "Better to just pray he doesn't and make the trip as quick as I can."

"Oh! Hello, folks."

"'Morning Urgrim," Sieghard said, surprised by the dwarf's arrival. He took a rather large bite of his breakfast and let Elsa and Adelbert's argument take over the conversation.

Thragka

2019-11-15, 06:27 PM

"Morning," Urgrim replied to Sieghard, giving the mercenary a long look. " ... Everything alright? Didn't think to tell you I'd be gone for the week. Hope that wasn't a problem."

"What's that about a trip?"

TheSummoner

2019-11-15, 07:53 PM

Sieghard

"I wash jush gonna head to Manaansh Keep," Sieghard said, mouth still full of food. He swallowed and continued. "Had to leave some things there before the war. No sense in carrying everything on the march. Now that it's over, I want to fetch them."

Thragka

2019-11-16, 07:23 PM

"Hmph." Urgrim suddenly looked dejected. "I wish people would stop saying that. 'The war is over.'" He shook his head, but then raised his empty hands in concession to an unspoken argument. "I just wish I knew what to do. Until Saga, we were on the back foot. Now maybe we're pushing back, but ... There must be someone, somewhere, who knows how to fight a zangunaz, who knows how to kill it. Some record, some history, something! But ... the Dwimmulsons don't know that. So what other people of this land possibly could?" He shrugged. "No living records go back further than the Dawi's."

LeSwordfish

2019-11-17, 03:33 AM

"No living records." Ludo said significantly, looking at Sieghard.

TheSummoner

2019-11-17, 04:04 PM

Sieghard

Sieghard coughed. That was something he hadn't thought about for a long time.

"Well, there is one place we might be able to learn more," Sieghard admitted. "Not one I think you're going to like." He glanced over towards Adelbert. "Schreiber, you understand it better than I do, you explain it to him."

LeSwordfish

2019-11-17, 05:55 PM

"We met another member of the undead in Kheneb-Ptra-urush." Ludo explained cautiously. "She told us about the book in the first place. I mean, originally we wanted it to clear out the undead in Kheneb and loot it more properly. She was one of the priestesses from the civilisation that originally killed Nahorek, and then she accidentally made herself and her army immortal by trying to use the book to defend against the Orks. There's nobody who knows more about it than her... but she's sealed inside Kheneb-Ptra-Urush and the last time we were there, we stole a lot of gold and they tried to kill us."

RossN

2019-11-17, 06:23 PM

Adelbert

'She'll also perhaps be less than happy we handed the book over to a Tilean barbarian, rather than either destroy or return it to her as we said we would,' Adelbert said.

Thragka

2019-11-17, 08:51 PM

Urgrim spent a few blank seconds processing this information.

"Well."

More silence passed.

"If ... this priestess ... knows how he was killed the first time,"

"then, uh, I suppose it's the best lead we have." The dwarf's voice didn't broadcast confidence. But as he pondered what he'd heard, his expression hardened.

"You wouldn't be bringing this up if it weren't our best option, hmph?" His gaze jumped between Sieghard and Ludo and Adelbert. "So. No matter what happened in the past - if she knows how to kill him, she'll want to help us." Now there was a confidence, but only the gods could say if it was well-founded.

-Sentinel-

2019-11-17, 11:43 PM

"In theory, I think the priestess may be an asset," said Elsa cautiously. "She must possess great knowledge, for a start. In practice, however, allying with her is much harder than it seems. Do you think we can convince the lord of the Reaches, or the Conclave, or the Dwimmulsons, to heed the counsel of an undead creature in our fight against the undead? 'Oh, she's one of the good ones, we swear!' Do you realize how that will sound to them?"

TheSummoner

2019-11-18, 03:32 AM

Sieghard

Sieghard shrugged. "If we returned to the ruins, we'd be doing it to search for information about how to kill the vampire. We need not say more than that and we can judge what we learn when we learn it."

LeSwordfish

2019-11-18, 08:12 AM

"We shouldn't take her exactly literally perhaps." Ludo said. "But we should listen to what she says."

Thragka

2019-11-18, 10:38 AM

Urgrim nodded along. "No need to convince the Rinn of anything beforehand," he added. "If we come back knowing how to fight the Jackal, that'll speak for itself."

He sat back. "But I'm aware you need permission from the princeling to leave. I hope his wife's account has convinced him of the gravity of our work "

RossN

2019-11-19, 12:00 PM

Adelbert

'If we are returning to Khenub I'd better go with you but that won't be possible until after the Conclave at the earliest.,' Adelbert said.

LeSwordfish

2019-11-19, 12:21 PM

"Then let's do that after the conclave and the coronation." Ludo said. "Sforza'll want someone to go to Manaan's Keep to collect some supplies and spread the news - I can do that?" he said, with a questioning look at Sieghard.

TheSummoner

2019-11-19, 09:36 PM

Sieghard

"Probably the best way we have to convince him to let us take the trip," Sieghard replied.

LCP

2019-11-19, 11:56 PM

While the others talked of travelling plans, the coronation and the spear, Elsa let her mind wander. She had dispatched Morrslieb early this morning - by now, the raven ought to be approaching the Mere.

Morrslieb
Fog hung over the marshes south of Ravenskird, just as it had when the party had taken Rogar’s boat, one year and four months ago. Flying low over the Mere, Morrslieb spotted the jagged tops of the manse’s tumbledown walls rising above the fogbank, and flew in their direction.

Alighting at the highest point of the old ruins, Morrslieb ran beady eyes over the marshy island on which they stood. Coils of slow-moving mist clung close to the ground, but could not hide the evidence of human habitation. Ragged lean-to tents huddled against the old stone walls, the ashy remnants of cooking fires scattered over the damp ground.

A gaggle of thin, dirty people were gathered around one such fire, turning a gutted frog on a wooden spit. Others were coming and going in ones and twos out of the rotten wooden hatch that led down to the flooded lower levels of the ruin. Casting around, Morrslieb spotted Klammenberg sitting alone, just outside the circle of the fire with a wooden stick resting across his knees. The necromancer’s beard was growing back in a scruffy swathe of dark stubble, and his face looked pale and pinched. Fine-feathers is not looking so fine, Morrslieb spoke through his mental connection to Elsa.

A flicker of movement drew Morrslieb’s attention away from the scene below. A small bird had perched on the weathered stonework beside him - one of the colony of martins that roosted in the great willow tree. Another landed, and then another, the small birds staring up at the raven in unnatural silence. There was a rank smell about them, the crisp black and white of their plumage now dirty and grey.

The sun passed behind a cloud, and in the dwindling light, Morrslieb could see the greenish glimmer of witchlights in their glassy eyes. One of them turned its head, and Morrslieb saw there was no eye on the left side of its face - only an empty socket, and the gleam of yellow bone beneath matted feathers…

-Sentinel-

2019-11-20, 10:57 AM

Elsa

Elsa could sense Morrslieb's sudden fear. She shivered when the raven described to her the undead birds.

Clever, she thought. Simple but clever.

Turn back now, she urged Morrslieb. We know what we need to know, so turn back. Fly higher. I don't think 'carrions' can go far from their master, and their master doesn't fly. As far as we know.

Elsa looked troubled. Aloud she said in a low voice: "They are at the Manse."

She added: "And they now have undead birds... so I'm having Morrslieb turn back."

RossN

2019-11-20, 11:27 AM

Adelbert

Adelbert's eyebrows rose. 'Can you persuade the Tilean to launch an immediate attack?'

LeSwordfish

2019-11-20, 12:13 PM

"Marching an army through the swamp?" Ludo said. "They'll be gone before we get within crossbow range. Or they'll do that thing with the storm again and we'll all drown."

LCP

2019-11-20, 02:52 PM

Morrslieb
Morrslieb leapt into the air, the first beat of his powerful wings scattering the smaller birds that had clustered too close. The sunlight was dying swiftly as he rose above the crumbling walls, a great cloud forming directly over the manse. As its shadow spread, faster than a raven could fly, the martins simply watched Morrslieb’s retreat, the branches of the old willow where they made their nests beginning to sway in a rising breeze. Thunder rumbled somewhere in the belly of the clouds.

Morrslieb had flown only a hundred yards or so from the ruins when the gale struck him, roaring down out of the darkened sky. Squawking as he tumbled head over tail-feathers in the sudden gale, he had only just righted himself when a hissing curtain of rain came sheeting down, the sudden weight of falling water hammering him out of the air.

Splashing to the marshy ground, Morrslieb picked himself up with a panicked croak, flicking water from his sodden feathers. The world had shrunk to the width of a few yards, everything beyond that lost in the sudden downpour - but over the drumming of the rain and the moaning of the wind, he thought he could hear human voices, shouting to one another through the storm…

At the Duke of Aquitaine

A faint, far-off rumble of thunder cut through the mid-morning chatter of the inn’s common room. No-one paid it too much mind, except a merchant at an adjacent table who looked up at the sound.

“Two storms in one week,” he remarked to his companion. “Maybe this damn drought is going to break after all.”

"Rhya grant us it falls on the fields," muttered the other man, in between mouthfuls of eggs. "They need all the water they can get."

LeSwordfish

2019-11-20, 03:18 PM

"Um." Ludo said, suddenly too panicked for further comment.

-Sentinel-

2019-11-20, 07:13 PM

Elsa managed to choke back a nervous peal of laughter at the customers' comments about the rain. The power to cause a mighty downpour by a mere effort of will could save the entire Reaches, yet the vampire was using it instead to bring down one raven, and over a place that did not even need water. It was almost too funny.

Focus, Elsa. Focus.

Morrslieb, you need to hide. Somewhere. Anywhere. Underwater with only your head sticking out, or in the reeds, or in an old stump. I'll cause a distraction on your end.

She pronounced the words of the spell, trying to use a conversational tone to avoid drawing attention to herself.

OOC
Marsh Lights. We're in the marshes, so that's very appropriate.
Casting 6+: [roll0]

Only one light will be created, so that it's less of an obvious "Look at the distraction!" and might be mistaken by the Ravenmouthers for a helpful pointer by one of their own wizards. The light will be placed about 30 yards away from Morrslieb; close enough to be conceivably the spot where he fell, and far enough that it's not too likely someone will chance upon him. It will move away from Morrslieb at a speed of 8 yards per round, which happens to be both the spell's minimum speed and the speed of a walking bird.

Morrslieb himself will try to hide. His untrained Concealment is vs. 19, but I'm hoping he's getting a bonus from his small size, dark color, and the pouring rain.

[roll1]
Fortune: [roll2]

Edit: Argh. Here's hoping the marsh light buys Morrslieb another round or two to find a better spot. Or does that roll have to "stand", i.e. Morrslieb thinks he's well-hidden when he's not?

TheSummoner

2019-11-20, 07:20 PM

Sieghard

Sieghard stared uncomfortably. "Elsa, what's happening?" He asked.

LCP

2019-11-20, 07:36 PM

Morrslieb

Morrslieb was panicking. Elsa could sense her familiar's fear through their mental connection, almost feel his frantic wingbeats as he tried vainly to get back into the air. It took an effort of concentrated will for her to calm the raven's frantic impulse of fight or flight and force her message through.

Hopping through the mud, Morrslieb crouched miserably under a rotten log, listening as the voices of the searchers drew closer through the grey haze of the rain. One of them spotted Elsa's marsh-light, and with shouts and the sound of splashing footsteps, a group of them hurried after it. Morrslieb slowly raised his head to watch them go - then shrank back beneath the log as he heard a spotter's shout from the opposite direction. A scrawny, malnourished-looking man was wading through the waist-deep water towards him, pointing to the spot where he was hiding. An equally scrawny woman was following after, the worn blade of a rusty gutting knife glinting in her hand.

-Sentinel-

2019-11-20, 07:55 PM

"Elsa, what's happening?"

"Morrslieb's down and surrounded," Elsa said between her teeth, trying to keep her voice tightly controlled in this setting. She regretted not waiting until she was in her own room before letting her familiar get close to Gilbertus' Manse.

Given the very direct nature of her lore of magic, there really was no solution but to kill whoever approached Morrslieb and make the rest ponder whether they preferred to face Elsa's wrath or Nahorek's. Elsa was not sure the odds were in her favor on that count, but she would be damned if she let Morrslieb go down without a fight.

Morrslieb, prepare to have fireballs cast through you.

OOC
Fireball, supercharged to double fireballs. Using a ball of sulphur as +2 spell ingredient. Only two casting dice because this isn't the time to get noticed with Tzeentch's Curse.

Channeling 88: [roll0]
Casting 8+/10+: [roll1]
Chaos die: [roll2]

Scrawny man location: [roll3]
Scrawny man damage: [roll4]

Scrawny man location: [roll5]
Scrawny man damage: [roll6]

Scrawny man location: [roll7]
Scrawny man damage: [roll8]

Scrawny woman location: [roll9]
Scrawny woman damage: [roll10]

Scrawny woman location: [roll11]
Scrawny woman damage: [roll12]

Scrawny woman location: [roll13]
Scrawny woman damage: [roll14]

Morrslieb will hop away on his own turn. Edit: Two normal movements, not a Run move.

That part went okay, at least!

LCP

2019-11-20, 08:16 PM

Morrslieb

Morrslieb croaked as he felt the heat of Elsa's spell channelled through him, and four lines of fire slashed through the rain. The man who had spotted him was roasted where he stood, while the woman yelped and dropped to the water, beating at the fires in her clothes.

From all around, faint voices began calling out, their attention drawn by the brief blaze of light. Wriggling out from under the log, Morrslieb began hopping away as fast as he could, heading in the opposite direction to the ruins. Behind him, the green-tinted light of a lantern welled up through the murk, the sound of more people - many more - coming with it.

OOC: The woman is not immediately pursuing Morrslieb now that she's hurt and has had a taste of what he can do: he's probably got a minute or two before any more Rivermouth folk arrive on the scene.

RossN

2019-11-20, 08:35 PM

Adelbert

Adelbert reached across the table and lightly touched her shoulder. The priests eyes seemed to be looking deep into her very soul.

'Verena, Lady of Mysteries aid my friend in this struggle,' he intoned.

OOC:
Channeling: [roll0] vs 63
Blessing of Fortitude (5): [roll1] [roll2]

-Sentinel-

2019-11-20, 08:47 PM

Elsa rose suddenly. She needed somewhere more discreet if she was to cast spells, and Morrslieb had told her that the fireball had just bought him some time. She went straight to the innkeeper and slammed three crowns on the counter.

"I need a room now," she said quickly. "Just hand over the key and tell me the number. You keep the change."

OOC
Some (underwhelming) rolls in the OOC thread. She might need that room after all.

LCP

2019-11-20, 09:04 PM

The innkeeper looked startled by the urgency of Elsa’s request, but took her money all the same. Most of the tavern’s patrons barely batted an eyelid as she hurried upstairs: stranger things happened in Savonne all the time. These days, at least.

Morrslieb

Hopping through the muck as best as his legs could carry him, Morrslieb could hear the sound of pursuit closing in behind. It was difficult for him to tell how many his pursuers were - over the rough music of the wind and rain, it could be five or fifty, and the raven would be none the wiser.

The first figures to emerge out of the downpour were not human - though perhaps they had been, once. Bent-backed and maggot-white, the ghouls turned their long-jawed faces left and right, sniffing the air like hunting hounds. There was no way they could catch his scent in this rain - but behind them, the shadows of more upright figures were coming into view, a wide line sweeping the marsh.

Finding a clump of reeds that offered some cover, Morrslieb cowered down to hide as best he could. He flattened himself against the ground, screwing his eyes shut as a ghoul snuffled at a nearby patch of weeds. Somewhere off to his left, a man gave a cooing call, wheedling for the ‘birdie’ to come out. Morrslieb stayed exactly where he was.

At last, the sounds of the searchers began to recede, pushing further out into the marsh. He waited until he was absolutely sure they were gone - then, slowly, silently, he raised his head just an inch, and opened his eyes.

A pair of eyes stared back at him, red and smouldering in the dark. Looming above him in patient silence was the black silhouette of an enormous jackal.

OOC: Terror test for Morrslieb, at +20 for having met Nahorek before.

In her new room at the Duke, Elsa felt an icy pain shoot through the scar tissue of her right arm, as the image of what Morrslieb was seeing seared itself into her mind. It was him.

-Sentinel-

2019-11-20, 09:30 PM

Elsa

Elsa wanted to pace around the room, but forced herself to sit down on the bed, eyes closed, fingers on her temples. She was vaguely aware of the others' presence around her, but was not able to pay them any mind. They would not be much help in this situation.

OOC
Morrslieb's Terror test: WP 24 +10 (Link of Psyche) +20 (familiarity) = 54

[roll0]

Are we in combat time?

Edit: OH COME ON, THAT'S SIX TESTS IN A ROW WITH NO RESULT BELOW 53. :smallfurious:

Edit 2: And I forgot to account for the -20 penalty for Terror, which negates the +20 from familiarity.

LCP

2019-11-20, 09:55 PM

Morrslieb

White teeth flashed in the rain as the jackal opened its mouth, lunging at Morrslieb - with a terrified squawk, the raven leapt out of the path of the descending jaws. Flapping his wings futilely against the wind, he struggled out of the reeds, the black shape of the jackal prowling slowly after him. It knew it could take its time.

-Sentinel-

2019-11-20, 10:18 PM

"The Jackal is there," whispered Elsa. "There is no escape."

I'm so sorry, Morrslieb. So sorry for sending you to your death.

She was tempted to throw fire in Nahorek's face in defiance, but serving as the vessel of Elsa's spite would be cold comfort for a dead raven. She instead tried to cut away at the strands of the rain spell to allow Morrslieb to take to the skies. Would it work on this strange magic? She owed it to her faithful familiar to try.

OOC
I'll try as TheSummoner suggests, but I'm skeptical, as the rain is not a conventional spell. We may still learn something useful in the attempt.

Dispel 13: [roll0]
WP at -50 = 38. Now would be the time for the dice gods to smile down on me again. [roll1]

Edit: Oh that's greaaaat. Amazing test, awful casting roll. :smallsigh: I don't suppose Adelbert has *checks rulebook* a small silver hammer?

I think I'd better make my peace with Morrslieb's death. He'll still hop around (Defensive Stance), just in case the dice gods hate Nahorek as much as they hate Elsa and Morrslieb.

The magic somehow got lost along the way from Elsa to Morrslieb, perhaps extinguished by the rain. The expression on Elsa's face went from fear to a deep, mournful resignation.

LCP

2019-11-20, 10:28 PM

Morrslieb

As Elsa tried and failed to channel her power over the gulf of distance between her and her familiar, the black hound pounced again, teeth flashing. Again the raven flapped out of the way, losing only a single tail feather to the jackal's snapping jaws. Spitting it out, the beast turned its red eyes on Morrslieb again, its muzzle wrinkling in a fanged snarl.

-Sentinel-

2019-11-20, 10:35 PM

Elsa could feel Morrslieb's terror, and it stabbed her heart with guilt. Amazingly, the raven remained alive. And so long as he was alive, she would not give up on him.

OOC
Dispel 13: [roll0]
Channeling vs. 38 to dispel: [roll1]

Edit: YESSS. Might still not work at all against the rain-making power, but at least we'll know if it's dispellable, for future reference. If this fails, Morrslieb will at least transmit data before he dies, like a space probe about to burn up into Venus's atmosphere.

Got a Tzeentch's Curse, but I'll keep it. This is too important.

If it succeeds, Morrslieb will Disengage upwards.
If it fails, Morrslieb will Disengage by hopping on the ground, as before.

LCP

2019-11-20, 10:56 PM

The others who had followed Elsa upstairs felt cold sweat bead on their skin as she spoke the words of her incantation again, focusing her will across the thirty miles or more that separated her and her familiar. It was not something her tutors in the Colleges had ever taught her to do - but with Morrslieb's frantic heartbeat hammering in her head, she felt herself doing it all the same.

Elsa Only
For a moment, Elsa saw herself in the heart of the storm. She felt the whipping of the wind in her hair, the sting of the rain on her skin. Stretching out her hands, she channelled the dry heat of Aqshy against it, boiling away the cloud that enveloped her - but it was only a tiny part of the greater whole. Lightning flashed in the depths of the storm - by its flickering light, the shadows in the clouds seemed to take the shape of a jackal's skull.

There was a crack like a striking spark, and Elsa staggered back, nearly falling against the bed. Somewhere in the far distance, thunder muttered again. The storm had not been stopped.

Morrslieb
As Morrslieb fled, hopping erratically along the ground, the jackal seemed to give up on solving this particular problem with its teeth. Walking slowly after Morrslieb, its body broke apart into a whirl of black dust, the red fires of its eyes burning bright as they rose to a new height. When the swirling darkness coalesced into a new form, it was the one they had fought upon the Temple mound - a withered mockery of the human form, swathed in ragged black.

OOC: Nahorek transforms into 'human' form and casts Gaze of Nagash.

[roll0]+5 (Wellspring of Dhar)
[roll1]
[roll2]

Seems like his heart's not really in it today. 4 wounds - Morrslieb still lives.

The vampire rasped a word in his ancient language, and a bolt of Dhar ripped into Morrslieb, his feathers whitening and crumbling under its entropic touch. Ghost-lights swarmed in the air around Nahorek, their eerie glow doing nothing to disguise the darkness that still burned in his eyes.

-Sentinel-

2019-11-20, 11:21 PM

Elsa's heart sank. A wild hope had surged in her, only to be snatched away. There was no saving Morrslieb after all. All she could do was send a fiery message of defiance to Nahorek. Could the ancient being feel pain from fire? She hoped so. She would not kill him today, but she would at least remind him what being a mortal felt like, if only for a moment.

Morrslieb. Thank you. And I'm sorry.

At least he would die where he was born: in the Bracken Mere.

She gathered the Winds and unleashed them.

OOC
RIP Morrslieb. Time for the drone to turn kamikaze.

Fireball, 2x number, ball of sulphur.

Channeling 88: [roll0]
Casting 8+/10+: [roll1]
Chaos die: [roll2]

Location: [roll3]
Damage: [roll4]

Location: [roll5]
Damage: [roll6]

Location: [roll7]
Damage: [roll8]

Location: [roll9]
Damage: [roll10]

Location: [roll11]
Damage: [roll12]

Location: [roll13]
Damage: [roll14]

Above average damage, but I'd trade any two of these for a shot at a Fury.

Morrslieb hops away because he has to, but I doubt it matters now.

LCP

2019-11-20, 11:48 PM

Morrslieb

Morrslieb. Thank you. And I'm sorry.

Morrslieb's mental reply didn't take the shape of words - instead, raw sensation flooded Elsa's mind, animal feelings of fear, of desperation, of abandonment. Steeling herself against the sudden tide of emotions, Elsa threw everything she had through the link between them.

Back in the marsh, tiny tongues of fire began to leap and dance from Morrslieb's feathers. Fireball after fireball streamed from the raven's body, enveloping Nahorek's gaunt figure in smoke and flames. For a moment, the vampire disappeared from sight behind the fiery onslaught - but when the last fireball had flown and the rain stripped the curling smoke away, he was still standing.

A word in ancient Nehekharan extinguished the small fires still burning in his ragged robes, the shadows rising up like armour around him. Another sent a bolt of pure darkness slashing into Morrslieb, flesh blackening and liquefying beneath its touch. Elsa felt her familiar's pain as the spell ripped through him, peeling flesh from bone - then, with a wrench as if her own heart was being pulled in two, the link between them guttered and died.

-Sentinel-

2019-11-20, 11:54 PM

Elsa's shoulders slumped, and something died in her eyes.

"He's gone," she said flatly. "Morrslieb's gone."

She removed her gloves, which she did rarely, and sank her face into trembling hands. "They... they were ready for him. They set a trap for him, and I sent him right into it."

TheSummoner

2019-11-21, 12:23 AM

Sieghard

Sieghard's face dropped. He searched for something to say - something comforting - but he struggled to find the words.

"You had no way of knowing." It felt weak.

-Sentinel-

2019-11-21, 12:53 AM

"I had every way of knowing," whispered Elsa, too shaken to even shed a tear. "I knew Nahorek and Klammenberg could see Morrslieb for what he was. And I knew they were smart enough to expect him, especially after the battle at the temple."

She lay down on the plush, luxurious bed and stared at the ceiling. "It was Nahorek himself who killed Morrslieb. But I got to burn the bastard before he did."

She took little comfort or satisfaction in that fact. She felt too guilty to harbor any feelings of revenge; revenge required that you blame someone other than yourself.

RossN

2019-11-21, 06:18 AM

Adelbert

Adelbert reached out and touched his friend on the shoulder. No blessing this time, just a gesture to offer comfort in her loss. He had no frame of reference for the bond between magician and familiar but he knew it must run fathoms deeper than even that between master and beloved pet. They had been linked in soul.

'I am so sorry Elsa.' Adelbert swallowed painfully, surprised at the grief he was feeling. Morrslieb had been a comrade. 'Morr will guard his spirit now.'

TheSummoner

2019-11-21, 08:37 PM

Sieghard

"Let's give her some space," Sieghard said quietly. He wasn't sure how Elsa reacted to grief - in all their time together, nothing like this had come up. "If she wants us, she knows how to find us."

-Sentinel-

2019-11-22, 04:33 PM

Elsa was grateful to Sieghard to have the room cleared for her. She did need some alone time. Losing Morrslieb was like losing simultaneously a friend and a limb. By her own fault. And she could not even bury him... or keep a good luck charm, like a feather...

Before they went, Elsa found the strength to say another thing Morrslieb had observed and which they might find relevant: "Klammenberg. He doesn't seem to be getting any better. I don't know what's the matter with him, but... I'm sure we'll find out eventually."

Either before we kill him, or after.

After her friends left, she remained alone in the inn room for the better part of an hour; she had paid more than the required price for it, so she might as well use it. When she came out at last, her eyes were reddened but she had regained a semblance of composure. She went straight to the castle in search of Sforza.

"They are indeed at Gilbertus' Manse, in the swamps," she reported in a flat, droning tone. "The Rivermouthers, and Klammenberg, and the vampire."

She paused.

"They were expecting my familiar and laid a trap for him. I... couldn't get him out alive."

So I hope it was worth it.

LCP

2019-11-22, 08:26 PM

Elsa

The Captain was on the walls of the keep, looking out over his city. He took Elsa’s news in his stride.

“A pity,” he said. If he could tell Elsa was hurting, his eyes didn’t show it. “That bird was worth more than a dozen of my scouts. Can you make another?”

He turned his gaze to the south.

“Still, you learned where they are. You say the rats have gone to ground in the marsh?” He drummed his fingers against the weathered parapet. “I am not fool enough to march my men into a mire. If they want to hide in the Mere, let them rot there. See how long this jackal creature’s followers enjoy the taste of frogs and pond-weed.”

“We have what they want,” he said. “Soon enough it will be on its way north, so they must make their move before then. All we have to do is be ready for them.”

Sieghard & Ludo

While Elsa was making her report, Sieghard sought out Abdul. Though he seemed run off his feet, the Arabyan was happy to see him.

“If you are going to Manann’s Keep, you can certainly be useful. I will send Rahim with you, with the wagons. He knows what we need from Manann’s Keep. Isn’t that right, Rahim?”

Rahim, surly as ever, answered with only a grunt.

“I tell you now, friend Sieghard, this coronation is bleeding us dry,” said Abdul, shaking his head with exaggerated sadness. “I tell the Captain so, but now it is the lady wants this, the lady wants that. Her ladyship wants the greatest celebration the Reaches has ever seen, and so we lowly mortals must oblige.” He patted Sieghard on the shoulder in a comradely way. “Make sure you are back for the twenty-first, my friend. You will not want to miss it.”

Angestag, 14th Nachgeheim

The next morning, Sieghard and Ludo headed out of the river gate, fifteen Thorns with crossbows and three rattling wagons following behind them. Rahim rode behind the last of the wagons, chewing a lump of trail rations and looking as sour as a lemon. Ludo could already tell he was going to be great company.

They swiftly left Savonne behind, the stonemasons working on repairs to the bridge looking up as they passed. By late afternoon, Arrow Heap had already risen into view. The blackened wreckage of the old mill still stood in the fields north of the town, rising like a tombstone above the unmarked graves of the battlefield. Looking at it from the road, Ludo could almost hear the axes of Rorik’s men at the gates again…

Festag, 15th Nachgeheim

The next day brought Sieghard and Ludo to Painford. They found the village more crowded than usual - others were coming north along the forest road, converging on Savonne for the coronation. Merchants, millers, miners - the Reaches were under new management, and everyone who was anyone wanted a piece. In the crowded common room of the hostel, Ludo heard from Gavril that Steffan Sussman had been through just the day before.

Back in Savonne, people were arriving from other parts of the Reaches too. The guilders of Putbad were among the first, a whole gaggle of them disembarking from a large riverboat that moored in the docks. They were not the vessel’s only passengers: with them came Father Barbaro, Abbot Tomas, and two of his monks. An extremely elderly man in dull black robes was introduced as Father Bonifatius, Putbad’s resident priest of Morr. They were all here for the Conclave.

Hieronymus greeted the newcomers at the gate, and led them to pay their respects at Raqiyah’s grave. Though he waited at the Temple all day, Adelbert only saw one other priest arrive: Father Hechsler, riding in through the north gate on the back of a mule. Tying up his animal at the foot of the Temple mound, Hechsler greeted Adelbert warmly when he saw him.

“It’s good to see you again, Schreiber. Is it true the old girl’s dead?” Adelbert noticed that the Sigmarite had put on a few pounds since the last time he’d seen him. “We could have told these southerners what would come of this jackal-worship if they’d only listened, eh? Men of the Empire, you and me.” He slapped Adelbert on the back. “We should have a drink together, before the wrangling starts. Sigmar knows we’ll need it.”

OOC: I’m pausing here before moving on to the conclave the next day, to give the conclave-goers space for any pre-conclave preparation you want to do. When you’re ready to proceed to it just let me know.

Priests that will be in attendance:

The Cult of Morr
Father Bonifatius
Brother Cezar

The Cult of Verena
Father Hieronymus
Father Schreiber

The Cult of Shallya
Sister Ioana
Sister Stefania

The Cult of Taal & Rhya
Sister Jocasta

The Cult of Myrmidia
Father Barbaro

The Cult of Sigmar
Father Hechsler

The Monks of Azriller
Abbot Tomas
Brother Grigore
Brother Konstantin
Brother Oswald

Guests (no vote)
Elsa
Urgrim

-Sentinel-

2019-11-22, 09:17 PM

“A pity. That bird was worth more than a dozen of my scouts. Can you make another?”

Elsa was taken aback by the question. Her familiar was dead, and Sforza was already talking about replacing him as if she had merely lost a very good sword or bow. "It took me months to... make... Morrslieb," she said slowly. "Weeks of searching for the right animal in the wilderness, and then weeks to bind him to me. I suppose, if you had animals brought straight to me to save time, one of them could be familiar material."

The notion did not excite her especially. She had not even begun to properly mourn Morrslieb.

“I am not fool enough to march my men into a mire. If they want to hide in the Mere, let them rot there. See how long this jackal creature’s followers enjoy the taste of frogs and pond-weed.”

Elsa wanted to scream. So all this was for nothing. They had learned with certainty where the enemy was, at the cost of Morrslieb's life, but they were not planning to do anything with that information. "Sigmar's breath, these are Rivermouthers we're talking about!" she said, more waspishly than she had intended. "They've been known to eat a lot worse than frogs."

“We have what they want. Soon enough it will be on its way north, so they must make their move before then. All we have to do is be ready for them.”

"We'll be ready," said Elsa, and she meant it. "In the meantime, may I suggest we keep the Book in the Dwimmulhold? It's the safest place for it. And the Dwarfs can be relied upon not to use it."

LCP

2019-11-22, 09:59 PM

Elsa, 13th Nachgeheim

Elsa was taken aback by the question. Her familiar was dead, and Sforza was already talking about replacing him as if she had merely lost a very good sword or bow. "It took me months to... make... Morrslieb," she said slowly. "Weeks of searching for the right animal in the wilderness, and then weeks to bind him to me. I suppose, if you had animals brought straight to me to save time, one of them could be familiar material."

"We can put a bounty on live birds," said Sforza, breezily. "The common people will do the rest. I remember when Prince de Vela offered ten centesimi for every rat's tail that was brought to the watch in Tobaro. Pretty soon people were breeding the wretched things."

"Sigmar's breath, these are Rivermouthers we're talking about!" she said, more waspishly than she had intended. "They've been known to eat a lot worse than frogs."

Sforza gave her a look as if to say, careful now. "It's not a question of better or worse," he said, "it's a question of how much. We'll keep a watch on them, and see that frogs are all they get."

"We'll be ready," said Elsa, and she meant it. "In the meantime, may I suggest we keep the Book in the Dwimmulhold? It's the safest place for it. And the Dwarfs can be relied upon not to use it."

Sforza arched an eyebrow. "And can they be relied upon to give it back?" he asked. "Or might they decide that they know better than us... what was it... manlings, after all?"

He straightened up and took his hands off the parapet, folding them behind his back.

"You might not be able to use what's inside it, but that book is precious all the same. To the Temple of Myrmidia in Magritta it will be proof of our value, proof that the house of Sforza is a partner worth having. There is much I can achieve here with the favour of the Aguila Ultima. I see no reason to leave that at the mercy of these dwarfs."

-Sentinel-

2019-11-22, 10:57 PM

"It's not a question of better or worse," he said, "it's a question of how much. We'll keep a watch on them, and see that frogs are all they get."

"If you say so," Elsa said dubiously. "But those people have been left to their own devices in a muddy excuse for a village for a very long time. They're scrawny, wretched things, but they're survivors. Stray cats are more to be feared than fat cats."

"You might not be able to use what's inside it, but that book is precious all the same. To the Temple of Myrmidia in Magritta it will be proof of our value, proof that the house of Sforza is a partner worth having. There is much I can achieve here with the favour of the Aguila Ultima. I see no reason to leave that at the mercy of these dwarfs."

"The Book is not precious," Elsa protested. "It's a responsibility, which I regret ever taking on but cannot relinquish. You weren't there when it started raising the dead of its own free will. When it aged one of your soldiers into an old man in an instant. The Myrmidians won't thank you for saddling them with this abomination. I don't think they would even know what to do with it. The only reason we hold onto it, is to keep it out of the hands of those who see it as precious or useful."

OOC

"I remember when Prince de Vela offered ten centesimi for every rat's tail that was brought to the watch in Tobaro. Pretty soon people were breeding the wretched things."
The Wikipedia page for perverse incentive (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perverse_incentive) has this exact example, in Hanoi. Was this your inspiration for this?

LCP

2019-11-23, 12:49 PM

Elsa, 13th Nachgeheim

Sforza turned to look Elsa square in the eye. "How old are you, Holt?" he said. "Twenty-three? When you came to my court, what were you? And yet here you stand, telling me my own mind and the mind of the Aguila Ultima. Perhaps you should leave the politics to the politicians."

He paused, the silence yawning like a pit.

"Irene wrote that you were getting ideas above your station. Try not to prove her right."

OOC: I think I first heard the rats thing from either Warhammer or Pratchett. Can't remember which.

TheSummoner

2019-11-23, 02:12 PM

Sieghard

"Must've just missed him," Sieghard said. It was no surprise to hear that Sussman had headed north for the coronation. "How have things been here? Aside from busy, I mean. And what about the girl? Schrieber's old initiate."

-Sentinel-

2019-11-23, 02:17 PM

"Perhaps you should leave the politics to the politicians."

"Alright, then, I'll stick to what I know — magic," replied Elsa. "And that's exactly why I consider myself qualified to give you advice about the Book. I endeavor to be more than just a living weapon; you already have hundreds of those."

She regretted not handing over the Book to the dwarfs before Sforza's return.

"Irene wrote that you were getting ideas above your station. Try not to prove her right."

Elsa very nearly exploded at that.

My station? My station??? You mean my birth? I was born a wizard. What is your wife's birthright? A family name that she no longer even bears?

She controlled herself with a mighty effort of will, and answered dryly: "Then I'll try to keep some of those ideas to myself until such time as I can improve my station."

More seriously, she asked: "This may or may not be above my station, but did you have any plans about putting our prisoners to use, or are they just mouths to feed? The food situation in the Reaches is getting rather alarming. And it'll get worse."

LCP

2019-11-23, 03:44 PM

Elsa, 13th Nachgeheim

"Alright, then, I'll stick to what I know — magic," replied Elsa. "And that's exactly why I consider myself qualified to give you advice about the Book. I endeavor to be more than just a living weapon; you already have hundreds of those."

"The book is magic. What to do with it is strategy," said Sforza, firmly. "And that is an end to the matter. Don't think I haven't dealt with sorcery and sorcerors before, Holt," he added. "I am still here. Most of them are not."

More seriously, she asked: "This may be outside my field, but did you have any plans about putting our prisoners to use, or are they just mouths to feed? The food situation in the Reaches is getting rather alarming."

"The prisoners from Alvarran?" he asked. "We didn't take many. No point putting frightened farm boys in chains, now that Alvarr is dead." He shrugged. "And no number of extra hands in the fields will make it rain. We will have to make do with what the harvest gives us." He looked back out towards the city. "If we must, we can trade for more with the princedoms to the north. We control the river and the mines. Iron and gold should buy plenty of grain."

Sieghard & Ludo, 15th Nachgeheim

"Oh, Raddy? She's doing fine." He pointed over to a corner of the room, where a miller and his family had squeezed around a table that was far too small. Rhadegund was mopping up a spilt tankard of ale, her bob haircut distinctive even without seeing her face. She looked a good few inches taller than when they had last seen her. "Will Brother Schreiber be passing through again?"

RossN

2019-11-23, 03:48 PM

Adelbert, Festag, 15th Nachgeheim

Adelbert didn't conceal his relief at the appearance of Hechsler, gratefully accepting his handshake. While he'd honoured Verena more in his profession there was something reassuring about Sigmar. Perhaps his sense of patriotism wasn't quite so dormant as he feared. Only a misfortune Krucke wasn't here.

'I'm afraid so my friend. I'm sure you gathered the facts from the letter but the odds are against us - a vampire and his necromancer lapdog,' Despite his tone a smile crossed Adelbert's face. 'Though I am sure our Holy Sigmar wouldn't have it any other way than a challenge. I'd be happy to have a drink with you - in fact there are a few of us here who could probably do with one.'

Leading Hechsler into the Temple he went straight for Jocasta's door, knocking and waiting for confirmation before entering. 'Sister Jocasta, this is Father Heschler, a servant of Sigmar. We were wondering if you'd join us for a drink? I'm sure the next few days will be long so we may need to pace ourselves before the grueling work.'

LeSwordfish

2019-11-23, 03:55 PM

"Hopefully soon," Ludo said, thinking that Adelbert's reunion with Rhadegund would probably make for an awkward trip south to Kheneb. "Listen, you haven't seen anything in the swamp, have you? We have a few fugitives that headed out there - any lights or noises? Any of the old Rivermouth lot seen around? Anyone taking anything out into the swamp?"

LCP

2019-11-23, 04:19 PM

15th Nachgeheim

Adelbert

'I'm afraid so my friend. I'm sure you gathered the facts from the letter but the odds are against us - a vampire and his necromancer lapdog,' Despite his tone a smile crossed Adelbert's face. 'Though I am sure our Holy Sigmar wouldn't have it any other way than a challenge.

"Against us?" said Hechsler, sounding surprised. "With the war over? They might be sorcerers, but there are only two of them. Sforza's got an army. We'll light a fire under the Captain's chair and put these monsters to the torch, never you fear."

Leading Hechsler into the Temple he went straight for Jocasta's door, knocking and waiting for confirmation before entering. 'Sister Jocasta, this is Father Heschler, a servant of Sigmar. We were wondering if you'd join us for a drink? I'm sure the next few days will be long so we may need to pace ourselves before the grueling work.'

Jocasta greeted them with a sunny smile. "Gladly," she said. "Where were you thinking of going? I still don't know the city too well."

"I remember a place from the last time I was here," said Hechsler, "down by the riverside. Very reasonable prices." Adelbert remembered the Sigmarite's fondness for drink. "The Fat Fish, I think it's called."

Sieghard & Ludo

"Rivermouth folk? No, can't say as I've seen any," said Gavril. "Don't think that lot would dare show their faces round here, after what the Captain done to their village." He started vigorously cleaning a mug. "If you're thinking they're out in the Mere, you ain't the only one, that's for sure. Had a few livestock go missin', bout a month back, and old Jochen's dog, too. Plenty of mothers warning their children away from the west woods." He smiled and pointed out the window with his thumb. "'Course, young Raddy's safe as houses behind these walls of yours. No snatchers getting through them."

RossN

2019-11-23, 04:38 PM

Adelbert

Adelbert gave the Simarite priest a doubtful look on his faith in the Tilean but said nothing.

At the mention of the Fat Fish a vague memory stirred. 'A pity it isn't Konigstag, I've heard they have players there then. Still here is to food and drink.' He meant a mental note to watch Hechsler's intake of the latter. He turned to Jocasta and smiled ruefully. 'Don't worry, I've been here months and I still get lost.'

LeSwordfish

2019-11-23, 04:51 PM

"If there's any more news - any more livestock, any lights - then let us know." Ludo said, overpaying for his drink meaningfully. "If someone comes round thieving again and you manage to catch them, we'll pay good money for them."

-Sentinel-

2019-11-23, 06:31 PM

"The book is magic. What to do with it is strategy," said Sforza, firmly. "And that is an end to the matter. Don't think I haven't dealt with sorcery and sorcerors before, Holt," he added. "I am still here. Most of them are not."
Elsa wanted to keep arguing but could tell it would be like talking to a brick wall.

Hopefully the Myrmidians will see reason and treat the Book with the respect and fear it deserves...

"The prisoners from Alvarran?" he asked. "We didn't take many. No point putting frightened farm boys in chains, now that Alvarr is dead." He shrugged. "And no number of extra hands in the fields will make it rain. We will have to make do with what the harvest gives us."
Elsa thought she could read between the lines what was Sforza's intent regarding the prisoners. She was not altogether comfortable with that, but could find no way to protest without the Captain thinking she was weak or soft-hearted.

"Out of curiosity, how did Jaeger meet his end? I've had a score to settle with him since before you and I ever met, so this is of interest to me."

TheSummoner

2019-11-23, 08:55 PM

Sieghard

Sieghard's expression darkened at the mention of Rivermouth. "And If they catch you, there won't be anything left but bones in the swamp," he said. "Tell us if you see or hear anything, but don't do anything risky." He stared at his drink for a bit. "Duke Alvarr is dead and the war's over without Painford seeing any bloodshed, but there's worse out there. Might want to make sure the gates are locked up tight at night and have a few boys watch the walls." He doubted wood walls would stop Klammenberg and the vampire if they set their eyes on the town, but early warning might allow some to escape with their lives.

Sieghard sat drinking and speaking with Ludo and Gavril for a while until other customers demanded the hostel owner's attention. Taking his drink with, he got up and headed towards the corner where Adelbert's former initiate was still mopping.

"Rhadegund, right? Remember me? Sieghard. One of Schreiber's friends." From the face she made, he wondered if mentioning Adelbert had been a bad idea. "It's not about him," he assured. There was an awkward pause as he tried to think of the best way to say what he wanted to say. "It's because of him that you got dragged off and you're here now. So he owes it to you to make sure everything's right." He realized he was rambling. The way Adelbert had left her and the boy behind when the war broke out had never sat right with him. "He ain't here. I am. What I'm trying to ask is are you happy here or would you like it better back in Caerfort?"

LCP

2019-11-24, 10:00 AM

Elsa, 13th Nachgeheim

“The man we took the city from, back in the spring?” asked Sforza. Clearly to his mind Jager’s wasn’t a name worth remembering. “I didn’t see him. Probably dead.”

15th Nachgeheim

Adelbert, Urgrim & Elsa

The Fat Fish was crowded with the new arrivals from upriver, the bar doing a roaring trade. Nailed to one of the wooden posts that held up the ceiling, the handbill for Sutter’s Players still remained, although by now it looked a little tattered and grubby.

Securing a round table in the corner, Father Hechsler got the first round of drinks in. Sitting down heavily on his stool, he raised his tankard to the others.

“To Mother Raqiyah,” he said. “Morr keep her spirit safe.”

Ludo & Sieghard

"And If they catch you, there won't be anything left but bones in the swamp," he said. "Tell us if you see or hear anything, but don't do anything risky." He stared at his drink for a bit. "Duke Alvarr is dead and the war's over without Painford seeing any bloodshed, but there's worse out there. Might want to make sure the gates are locked up tight at night and have a few boys watch the walls."

Gavril swallowed. “Right you are, sir,” he said, tugging at his collar a little. “I’ll, um, I’ll let the lads at the gate know.”

"Rhadegund, right? Remember me? Sieghard. One of Schreiber's friends." From the face she made, he wondered if mentioning Adelbert had been a bad idea. "It's not about him," he assured. There was an awkward pause as he tried to think of the best way to say what he wanted to say. "It's because of him that you got dragged off and you're here now. So he owes it to you to make sure everything's right." He realized he was rambling. The way Adelbert had left her and the boy behind when the war broke out had never sat right with him. "He ain't here. I am. What I'm trying to ask is are you happy here or would you like it better back in Caerfort?”

Rhadegund looked very dubious of Sieghard’s question. “I’m fine here,” she said. “I don’t need your help.”

RossN

2019-11-24, 01:59 PM

15th Nachgeheim

Adelbert, Urgrim & Elsa

Adelbert took his own seat and raised his tankard. 'To Mother Raqiyah,' he said, before turning to Jocasta and adding: 'and to Father Balios.'

Finally before taking a sip he turned his eyes to Elsa and gave her a sympathetic look. 'And to other absent friends.'

Thragka

2019-11-24, 06:02 PM

15th Nachgeheim, The Fat Fish

"To absent friends," Urgrim concurred, raising his drink. He nodded to Elsa respectively.

After a moment's silence, he turned to Hechsler. "You've come from the west, Father Hechsler? Has the desert grown further?"

-Sentinel-

2019-11-24, 10:04 PM

Elsa raised her glass listlessly. Why had she agreed to come out tonight? She wished she were in her room, drinking on her own.

LCP

2019-11-25, 12:00 AM

At the Fat Fish

"From the north," Hechsler corrected Urgrim. "We have the Raven Hills between us and the desert in Elmridge, thank the Hammer. If the desert's been growing we haven't heard it from the hill folk." He glugged down his drink and looked about for another. "Haven't heard much from them at all since they lost their chief, really. Alvarr's accord with Rorik was what kept them from going back to their old sheep-stealing ways. I imagine it won't be long before they start raiding their neighbours again."

TheSummoner

2019-11-25, 04:35 AM

Sieghard

"Never said you needed it. I'm sure if you were set on it, you could make it there on your own," Sieghard replied, quite certain wolves would eat her the moment she passed Manaan's Keep if she tried such a thing. "Traveling always goes quicker when you're with a group though." He finished the rest of his drink. "There's no rush to decide. I've got to be back in the city before the coronation, but I'm hoping to head down that way soon after. If you change your mind, let me know. And if you don't, I could still carry a letter for you. I'm sure you've got friends and family who'd be glad to hear you're doing well."

LCP

2019-11-25, 02:56 PM

Sieghard & Ludo

Rhadegund sighed and rolled her eyes. "If you and Brother Schreiber are such great friends, why didn't he tell you anything about me?" she asked, fixing him with a demanding stare. "If I had friends and family in Caerfort I wouldn't have wanted to leave. I'm not going back."

"Everything alright here, dove?" said Karolina, passing by with a tray from another table of travellers. She paused, looking twice at Rhadegund's body language. "You en't being rude to the commander, are you Raddy?"

"no," muttered Rhadegund, sullenly. Glancing up at Sieghard from under her eyebrows as if to say she'd made her point, she went back to cleaning up the spill.

OOC: you came prepared for Nahorek and the Rivermouth Rowdies but did you come prepared to deal with a MOODY TEENAGE GIRL

TheSummoner

2019-11-25, 04:37 PM

Sieghard

"She's fine," Sieghard told Karolina. He waited until she was gone before speaking again. "No family at all? If it's something you don't want to talk about, I understand, but what about your parents? Did something happen to them?"

Not getting my hopes up, but untrained charm to get her to open up a bit.
[roll0] vs 27
[roll1] reroll

If this doesn't work, Sieghard won't bother her any further.

LCP

2019-11-25, 05:49 PM

Sieghard & Ludo

"It was horrible," said Rhadegund in a dull monotone, still mopping as she spoke. "When I was just a little girl, this man burst into our house. He had all these scars, and armour, and a big sword, and he started interrogating my parents about their family." She stopped mopping and looked Sieghard in the eye. "And he talked to them for so long that they actually died of boredom."

RossN

2019-11-25, 06:06 PM

At the Fat Fish

Adelbert got the feeling Elsa would not be the most animated of talkers tonight.

'Urgrim and...uh, Beatrix are going to speaking at the Conclave. They have both had encounters with the enemy and I think their experiences and skills will add a lot of insight,' Adelbert explained to the other clergy, before taking another draught of his ale.

He turned to the priestess of Rhya. 'Hechsler, the wizardess and myself are Imperials and Urgrim's people are locals. What about you Jocasta, where do you hale from?'

TheSummoner

2019-11-25, 07:23 PM

Sieghard

Sieghard smirked. The girl could be funny. "Better than what happened to mine," he said, matching her tone. "Bandits pillaged my village and butchered them."

So much for that. Seems like even when Sieghard rolls well, the person he's trying to charm is immune. Kinda figured she'd be harder than normal.

If she reacts to what Sieghard said, he'll keep going, otherwise he'll walk away leave her to her work.

LCP

2019-11-25, 08:37 PM

At the Fat Fish

'Urgrim and...uh, Beatrix are going to speaking at the Conclave. They have both had encounters with the enemy and I think their experiences and skills will add a lot of insight,' Adelbert explained to the other clergy, before taking another draught of his ale.

"I'm sure they will," said Hechsler, raising his tankard to Urgrim. "It's an honour to have one of the mountain folk attend our council." <Strength to your arm,> he added, in clumsy but serviceable Khazalid.

He turned to the priestess of Rhya. 'Hechsler, the wizardess and myself are Imperials and Urgrim's people are locals. What about you Jocasta, where do you hale from?'

"I was born in the Downs," said Jocasta, who seemed to be matching Hechsler so far in the drinking. She was clearly accustomed to it. "Near the edge of the Thornwood. Nowhere, really."

"There'll be priests from all over, that's for sure," added Hechsler. "Last time was bad enough - this time it's over who gets the leadership the Temple itself. Is it right the Morrites aren't staking a claim?" he asked Adelbert. "Who do you suppose it'll be?"

Sieghard & Ludo

Rhadegund looked like she was trying to come up with a sarcastic retort, but murdered parents were difficult material. Her eyes slid around the hostel, looking for a way out.

"I really have to go... clean... the dog," she managed, after a long hesitation. She affected a sudden smile. "Nice talking to you!"

Putting her head down, she hurried off towards the kitchen.

Thragka

2019-11-25, 09:16 PM

The Fat Fish

—And to yours Urgrim replied, in his best approximation of an Imperial Khazalid accent.

"It's the, hm, cooperation that gives the Temple strength," he continued in Reikspiel. "Whoever leads you, you act for the good of the people?" It didn't sound quite like a confident statement - at least partially a suggestion.

LCP

2019-11-26, 02:38 PM

At the Fat Fish

"I'm hardly an expert," said Hechsler, shrugging his shoulders. "Outsider and all."

"We speak for the gods," said Jocasta. "Our voice is stronger together than apart. Whoever reigns in Savonne, or elsewhere, the Temple helps to let our voice be heard." She looked to Adelbert. "But Father Schreiber has read the laws. He knows it better than either of us."

OOC: Just to let you guys know, I'm not building to any kind of scene here at the Fish - this is just meant to be a pre-Conclave opportunity for you to discuss what you want out of the Conclave. Let me know when you're ready to move on.

RossN

2019-11-26, 02:51 PM

Fat Fish

Adelbert looked surprised at Heschler's question, and even more at Jocasta's statement of confidence.

'I... wasn't aware the Morrites might be sitting out their claim. To be honest I have no idea who will end up leader. Father Hieronymous has seniority I suppose, though I'm worried the Azrillites might be strong enough to elect that idiot Barbaro. Currying favour with the Tilean.'

LCP

2019-11-26, 10:36 PM

At the Fat Fish

"Barbaro?" said Hechsler. "He's an outsider, like me. They might allow us a vote, but I doubt they'd allow us to run the show." He hiccuped. "There's six statues in the Temple. Five cults that've always ruled here. If it isn't one of them I'd be v... very surprised."

Jocasta said nothing - like Adelbert, she seemed to not have the antennae for clerical politics. Hechsler seemed eager to hear their appraisal of the situation, but as the evening wore on and the Sigmarite grew drunker, it became clear he wasn't going to get what he was after - or at least, he wouldn't remember it if he did. Bidding Elsa and Urgrim goodnight, Adelbert rose to escort Hechsler back to the Temple.

Wellentag, 16th Nachgeheim

The Conclave began bright and early the next morning. Entering the Temple through the front gates, Elsa hesitated as she saw the familiar figure of the stone jackal lolling at Morr's feet. Images of what Morrslieb had seen in his final minutes flashed unbidden through her head.

The priests were gathering in the bowels of the Temple - all thirteen of them, sitting or standing or milling aimlessly about as they waited for the proceedings to begin. On seeing Elsa enter, Barbaro hurried over and led her aside, speaking sotto voce so the others would not hear.

Elsa Only
"I didn't know you were going to be here, signora," said Barbaro. His manner with her wasn't as easy and smiling as it had once been - ever since his unfortunate encounter with the witch hunter, the Myrmidian had seemed distant and wary. "Do you know the plan? Abbot Tomas is our man."

The less-than-authoritative tapping of a gavel signalled Hieronymus calling the Conclave to order. One by one, the priests took their seats. Father Bonifatius was the last to sit down - the ancient Morrite moved like an arthritic snail.

"Friends - thank you all for coming here," said Hieronymus. "I wish my reasons for summoning you were happier. Mother Raqiyah is dead, as are many of our brothers and sisters in faith. Brother Liebrecht, of Morr. Brother Jakub, of Azriller. Father Balios, of Taal. Mother Constanza, of Shallya. And the caballera D'Evangelisti. Let us observe a minute's silence for those we have lost."

The assembled priests bowed their heads. When the minute was up, Hieronymus raised his head and rapped the gavel again on the table.

"These deaths were not coincidence. They were murdered, and the Temple was... desecrated, by a single enemy. An enemy who, if he had escaped with what was entrusted to us, might have committed unspeakable blasphemies." He looked to Adelbert, as if for reassurance. "I speak, of course, of the vampire Nakht-Horeb."

A ripple of murmurs ran around the table. Bonifatius looked confused.

"Eh? What?" He looked to Brother Cezar. "What did he say about Nahorek?"

"Nakht-Horeb, reverend father," said Cezar, patiently. "Nakht-Horeb."

"Never heard of him," groused the old priest.

"There are those here who have faced him, and fought him," continued Hieronymus. "Father Schreiber is one - and our guests, Master Jotunnsson and Magister Hildebrand." He looked to the three of them. "Perhaps before we continue, you could tell the Conclave what we know of this creature."

RossN

2019-11-27, 06:53 PM

Conclave

Adelbert stood up, turning to regard each of the priests (and Elsa and Urgrim.) He grimaced with distaste at the presence of Barbaro but quickly moved on.

'Brothers and Sister, Father Hieronymus has already explained the terrible foe we face. I shall attempt to go further.'

He paused momentarily to allow this to sink in. 'The creature Nakht-Horeb is a vampire, an ancient undead abomination from the days of barbarian Nekhara. As Sister Jocasta, Master Jotunnsson and Magister Hildebrand can all confirm from bitter personal experience he is incredibly powerful both as a physical being and as a dark and terrible sorcerer. He is responsible for the deaths of too many of our finest. He associates himself with the image of a jackal-like beast and is capable of changing his shape into a shadowy form of such a monster.'

'I can see from some of your faces that you are wondering how I came by such information. Alas Nakht-Horeb does not act alone; he is accompanied by a pet conjurer, a mortal man by the name of Klammenberg with some skill with illusions. It was Klammenberg himself, no doubt to curry favour with his repulsive master who boasted of the vampire's past and lengthy lifespan. More facts have been discovered by Master Jotunnsson and Magister Hildebrand who can no doubt tell you in their own words what they think.'

He paused, his grim expression fading into a look of resolve.

'Make no mistake we are faced with a great and terrible foe but one we can and shall beat. When he attacked this temple he was at the summit of his magical powers and determined to steal our artifacts. He fled, licking his wounds. We saw for ourselves; he is strong but he can be hurt and what can be hurt can be killed. The gods are with us, our own strength of soul and sword are with us and knowledge is with us.'

He turned to Elsa. 'Magister Hildebrand, you are gifted in the ways of magic and I know first hand few have suffered more against Nakht-Horeb. I would ask you to speak now on the nature of the vampire - and how we can destroy him.'

-Sentinel-

2019-11-27, 07:01 PM

Conclave

Elsa had come dressed in her austere, military-looking outfit she had had made at great expense, but though she tried to look grim and authoritative, she mostly seemed tired and beaten down since Morrslieb's death.

"Do you know the plan? Abbot Tomas is our man."
"I... wasn't really aware of a plan," Elsa admitted. "I'm here as an advisor on arcane matters, not to play politics. I highly doubt I have a vote or even much of a voice on anything religious."

"Perhaps before we continue, you could tell the Conclave what we know of this creature."

Elsa spoke up: "He is a very ancient being, dating back to the days of Lahmia; of which I know little, as history is not my field. He was once defeated by our distant precursors, and imprisoned under the Red Pyramid for millennia. He was awakened on last Hexensnacht by his mortal servant, a wandering shadowmancer and necromancer by the name of Klammenberg. Nakht-Horeb possesses frightening arcane power, including the ability to take the form of a jackal and summon a rainstorm. The goal of his attack on the Temple last Geheimnisnacht was to get his hands on the Book of Nagash. He failed, but came far too close for comfort. We also know him to be in league with the wretched people of Rivermouth, who have since relocated to a ruin in the swamps near Ravenskird."

LCP

2019-11-27, 10:10 PM

Elsa Only

"The Captain didn't send you?" said Barbaro, thrown off-balance a little by Elsa's reply. "Well... very good then. We'll both just... do what we came to do."

He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice further. "The Captain wants someone we can trust to follow his lead. The Lady Sforza wrote to him with all kinds of complaints against these priests. The Putbad monks, they know which side their bread is buttered." He paused. "That is the expression, yes?"

Elsa spoke up: "He is a very ancient being, dating back to the days of Lahmia; of which I know little, as history is not my field. He was once defeated by our distant precursors, and imprisoned under the Red Pyramid for millennia. He was awakened on last Hexensnacht by his mortal servant, a wandering shadowmancer and necromancer by the name of Klammenberg. Nakht-Horeb possesses frightening arcane power, including the ability to take the form of a jackal and summon a rainstorm. The goal of his attack on the Temple last Geheimnisnacht was to get his hands on the Book of Nagash. He failed, but came far too close for comfort. We also know him to be in league with the wretched people of Rivermouth, who have since relocated to a ruin in the swamps near Ravenskird."

"The Red Pyramid," said Hechsler. "If I had a pfennig for every ghost story I'd heard from Raven Hills men about the Red Pyramid, I'd have... well, not quite a schilling. But not far off." He looked around the table. "Where are the Raven Hills men? Didn't they send someone last time?"

"Last time, they sent one of the Jarl's retinue," said Hieronymus, "because their priest was missing. I suppose, in his continued absence, we must assume this remains the case."

"Father Bonifatius muttered something about 'savages' that wasn't as inaudible as he thought.

"And you say he takes the form of the jackal?" asked Abbot Tomas, furrowing his white brows as he leaned forwards over the table. "Of Nahorek?"

"The form of a jackal," said Hieronymus, seizing instantly on the point of grammar. "Not the jackal. I'm sure none of us here would imply that Nakht-Horeb is Nahorek..."

"Wouldn't we?" asked Jocasta. "Why?"

Hieronymus looked to Brother Cezar, who politely cleared his throat before he spoke.

"Nahorek has been worshipped in the Reaches since... time immemorial. Nahorek is a benign spirit, a servant of Morr..."

"And how long ago was the pyramid built?" asked Jocasta, her tone challenging. "Forgive me, brother, but I saw him change, when he attacked us in the sanctum. He was not a jackal. He was to a jackal what a daemon is to a man... a thing of darkness and dust, and terrible power." She paused, looking around at the others' faces. "I mean, and then there's the name."

"Nackt-Horeb," said Hechsler, rolling the syllables around in his mouth. "You have to admit, it sounds alike."

"Preposterous!" spluttered Bonifatius, a little colour returning to his aged face. "These are matters of Morrite doctrine! They are not for other cults to judge."

"And would your brothers and sisters in Luccini agree with your judgement, father?" asked Barbaro. "Or is this a point on which your doctrines diverge?"

It was a surprisingly pointed question from the Tilean. An awkward silence fell as Bonifatius grasped for an answer...

RossN

2019-11-27, 10:42 PM

Conclave

'Given the well known relationship between the Tilean and Estalian branches of the Cult of Myrmidia I hardly think you are in a position to criticise interpretation of doctrine within a different cult Father Barbaro,' Adelbert drawled.

'In any case Father Hieronymous's point is inarguable. Why I am reliably informed that in our own times a Norscan woman present in the Reaches could take the form of a wolf, a story which I am sure many of you have heard. I trust no one here is going to claim she was really Ulric?'

-Sentinel-

2019-11-28, 10:01 AM

'Magister Hildebrand, you are gifted in the ways of magic and I know first hand few have suffered more against Nakht-Horeb. I would ask you to speak now on the nature of the vampire - and how we can destroy him.'
"We know him to be harmed by silver," said Elsa. "We also know he's been defeated once before, and we're working on finding out how. Perhaps we can make it permanent this time."

She did not see fit to mention the spear in the presence of the priests. What would priests even do with a spear? The fewer people knew about it, the better. If Nakht-Horeb knew that the spear was in enemy hands, he would be sure to steal it, just to make sure it could not be used against him again.

On the matter of Nahorek and Nakht-Horeb, Elsa said hesitantly: "It is possible that two local figures were conflated over the ages. That some characteristics of one were ascribed to the other."

While on a personal level she fully believed Nahorek and Nakht-Horeb might be one and the same, perhaps it would be best not to have a religious dispute right now. Their problem was a 'mundane' one, insofar as necromancy could be considered mundane.

LCP

2019-11-28, 10:32 AM

The other priests looked less than convinced by Adelbert's assessment of what was 'inarguable'.

"Is there anywhere but the Reaches where this spirit is worshipped?" demanded Barbaro. "Anywhere but the land where, you say, this creature was buried, Myrmidia knows how many years ago?"

"He is not worshipped everywhere, even here," said Hechsler. "In the Raven Hills they say Nahorek is a dark spirit. An enemy of Morr."

"Well the Raven Hills are not here!" croaked Bonifatius. "This is the Conclave of Savonne! We should not be troubling ourselves with the, the second-hand opinions of bandits and sheep thieves."

"Magister Hildebrand says he has fallen in with the Rivermouth people," said Barbaro, "What do the Rivermouth people believe?" He looked to Adelbert. "Schreiber, you have had personal experience of their practices, yes? So Captain Sforza has told me."

RossN

2019-11-28, 11:06 AM

Conclave

Adelbert's expression darkened at Babaro's demand. 'I suggest Father Babaro that you choose your words - and your logic with more care. The goddess Azriller is native to these lands as the good brothers could remind you. The divine Sigmar is patron of the country I hail from, as do Father Heschler and Magister Hildebrand. In your own Tilea I believe that Lucan and Luccina are unique to Luccini.'

He leaned forward. 'Furthermore I would remind you that Father Bonifatius represents the clergy of Morr, and this temple though a rightful home to all the gods has always been associated with that god. In a debate differences of opinion are to be expected Father Bonifatius, and indeed Brother Cezar are entitled to a certain level of respect.'

'Now, as regards your question to me I do indeed believe the people - if one may call them that - of Rivermouth are in thrall to the vampire Nakht-Horeb. What they believe on the other hand escapes me completely, possibly as I too busy being tortured to ask them polite questions about their faith.'

LCP

2019-11-28, 11:58 AM

Barbaro had no reply to that. Adelbert's talk of respect clearly resonated with the others around the table - Bonifatius puffed out his scrawny chest, while Hieronymus looked quietly pleased.

"The real question is what we do now," said Jocasta. "This creature is intelligent. He hunted us, one by one, and struck when we were weakest. If we leave him be, he will be back, with a new plan."

"The Temple hasn't kept men under arms for centuries," said one of the Azrillite brothers. He looked to Hieronymus. "Isn't that in the Laws? Let the princes fight; we hold to the peace."

"Then perhaps you need to change the Laws, brother," said Hechsler. Clearly growing impatient, he didn't see the flash of horror in Hieronymus' face at the mention of such a thing. "They may have served before, but they will not serve you now. Sigmar teaches us to fight the darkness, not leave others to fight it for us."

"Though there are others who will fight," Barbaro chimed in. "The Captain's army has returned from the north. He is a godly man. His soldiers are godly men. You can be sure they will not stand idle."

"The marsh is nigh impenetrable," cautioned Tomas. White-bearded and dark-eyed, the abbot was old but not decrepit; when he spoke, he had an air of fatherly calm. "I remember many princes who promised to sweep it clean of bandits and the like. None of them succeeded."

"They were not Muzio Sforza," said Barbaro - but the other priests didn't seem to share his confidence.

"What about your own order, father?" asked Stefania, turning back to Bonifatius. "Don't the cult of Morr have men who know how to destroy this kind of creature?"

Bonifatius began to wheeze and mumble about the undead in an authoritative but unhelpful manner. Cezar gently cut him off.

"The Fellowship of the Shroud make it their business to seek out the undead," said the younger Morrite. "But the nearest chapter house is a long way north of us. We can send for help, but I fear it will be some time before it arrives."

Thragka

2019-11-29, 05:30 PM

Wellentag, 16th Nachgeheim – the Conclave

Urgrim cleared his throat. "There's one living record," he spoke, "of the last time Nakht-Horeb walked. It's in the history of Clan Dwimmulson, whose ancestors have lived beneath the Rock since those historic times. They knew him as Varag Kol: the Black Hound.

"I'm not a Dwimmulson, and I haven't asked leave to recount this history. But I'll share it nonetheless, because it's almost all any of us can know about this enemy. He came north from Nehekhara with the walking dead, and waged war on the humans and dwarves of the Reaches. It is said he was slain with a runic weapon, after a terrible conflict. Alas, there's no hint of what happened to that treasure. On his defeat, so that his followers could not revive him, Varag Kol's remains were entombed in the Red Pyramid, the gates sealed with dwarven runes and blessed by human priests. Since then, three and a half thousand years have passed.

"Back in Sommerzeit, myself and six Dwimmulson rangers went west to inspect the Pyramid, after clan elders grew worried something was amiss. Our fears were, unfortunately, confirmed. The Pyramid was breached. Some fell ritual, blood sacrafice, had been performed in the burial chamber, and the tomb was empty." He paused. "I can personally confirm also that gold treasures from the burial chamber were in the house where we fought Klammenberg and the vampire. Of your gods, I cannot speak, but it is undeniable that Varag Kol was real, and walks again.

"Rinn Elmendrin of Clan Dwimmulson knows all this keenly, and sorely wishes to cooperate with the human folk of the Reaches in this dark hour. You know she has already provided the ironbark chest guarding the Book, which resisted Varag Kol's strength two weeks ago. Any aid the clan can provide in the safeguarding of the Book, I'm sure she'll happily lend." He glanced meaningfully to Elsa and Adelbert.

I summarise to post, but of course Urgrim will share all the details (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?578690-WFRP-The-Bloody-Crown-X&p=23836359#post23836359) he's ever given before (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?578690-WFRP-The-Bloody-Crown-X&p=24057281#post24057281) with the Conclave, should they want to question him further.

LCP

2019-11-30, 11:06 AM

Urgrim's account sent a ripple of fearful murmurs through the assembled priests. Barbaro made the sign of the eagle over his heart; only Bonifatius, who had probably only heard one word in three, remained unconcerned.

"Three and a half thousand years," marvelled Hieronymus. "The Dwimmulson records go back that far?"

"What manner of creature can return after that long in the grave?" asked one of the Azrillites, much more afraid than impressed. "If the dwarfs of old couldn't finish him for good, what can we do?"

Thragka

2019-11-30, 02:44 PM

"Three and a half thousand years," marvelled Hieronymus. "The Dwimmulson records go back that far?"

"Thereabouts," said Urgrim, shooting the old man a curious look. He'd told the wizened Verenan as much weeks ago. "As it happens, though, there may be one other record of Varag Kol's previous life. But on that I must defer to Father Schreiber and Magister Hildebrand."

RossN

2019-12-01, 02:32 PM

Conclave

Adelbert did not look happy. 'There may be another source of information in the ancient ruins on the edge of the Bracken Mere. They date to the same era as the vampire and having been there previously I believe there are elements there that could prove helpful.'

-Sentinel-

2019-12-01, 04:56 PM

"It's true," Elsa confirmed. "The ruined city may belong to the same people who originally defeated Naho— Nakht-Horeb. But it's an extremely dangerous place. We haven't been able to explore much of it."

LCP

2019-12-01, 06:56 PM

Hieronymus cleared his throat and gave Adelbert and Elsa a discouraging look. With the two Morrites present, any mention of Meskhenet might be dangerous ground.

Barbaro, of course, knew what they were talking about - and didn't seem particularly convinced. "If they defeated him the first time, they didn't do a very good job of it. Here he is again, no?" He shrugged. "Is there any proof that we need to go hunting for secrets to defeat this creature? Most things die when you put enough steel in them. Even vampires." He gestured to Elsa. "And Magister Hildebrand has already told us the thing fears silver."

"Knowledge is always precious, Father Barbaro," said Hieronymus. "We should not pass up any opportunity to gather more."

"But perhaps our priority for now should be hunting down the vampire himself," said Ioana. "Not delving into its distant past."

"None of this can be decided before we do what we came here to do," said one of the Azrillite brothers. "These decisions are the High Priest's to make. We must elect a new one, now that Mother Raqiyah rests with Morr."

Hieronymus gave a sombre nod. "That is why we have gathered. By tradition, the leadership of the Temple has fallen to the Cult of Morr - but I understand that given their losses, our brothers of Morr are willing to pass the mantle." Cezar nodded, while Bonifatius looked discontented. "Before we proceed, however, we must hear who this Conclave nominate for consideration, and why." He spread his hands open-palmed towards the table. "May the gods guide us truly in our choices."

OOC: The floor is open for you to put forward who you think should be the next High Priest - though of the PCs, only Adelbert will have a vote.

RossN

2019-12-01, 07:32 PM

Conclave

Adelbert rose to speak. 'Brothers and Sisters, before we consider this vote I wish to make a proposition that Sister Jocasta be allotted two votes solely for this election. We have no cleric of Taal present, yet He is and always been honoured here. Given the unnatural evil we face I think we should honour the god of natural world by allowing someone to speak in His name. Sister Jocasta represents Rhya, who has always been partnered with Taal. I think, should she be willing, that she cast Taal's vote too.'

LCP

2019-12-01, 08:15 PM

"...Something of an... irregular request," said Hieronymus. "I suppose the proper thing to do would be to put it to a vote."

There was a brief pause in the proceedings while the various cults discussed their position between themselves. When it came time to count the votes, the request was granted, by a margin of six to two. Many of the priests, including Jocasta herself, abstained.

"Then I suppose it is decided," said Hieronymus, not sounding displeased with the outcome. "Sister Jocasta speaks for both Rhya and Taal."

OOC: Votes:

For
Father Schreiber
Sister Ioana
Sister Stefania
Father Hechsler
Brother Grigore
Brother Cezar

Against
Father Bonifatius
Father Barbaro

Abstain
Father Hieronymus
Sister Jocasta
Abbot Tomas
Brother Konstantin
Brother Oswald

RossN

2019-12-01, 09:27 PM

Conclave

Adelbert bowed his head in acknowledgement. 'Thank you. Brothers and Sisters we are faced with an unprecedented crisis. Our ranks are depleted, our foe both powerful and terrible and the general people afraid. What is needed in this hour is the guiding hand of wisdom and experience, respect for what has gone before yet shrewdness to adapt to change. It is my belief that Father Hieronymus best embodies those qualities of any of us I hereby nominate Father Hirenymus for leadership of this Temple.'

He turned slightly so that he could better address the room. 'It is true we are both servants of the Lady Verena, and I admit the fact that I know Father Hieronymus that has influenced my nomination. Still, who can question the years of service he has already given this Temple? Or the breadth of his knowledge? Father Hieronymus belongs to no faction, no outside interest. He serves our goddess and he serves our Temple and we can rely on his sense of duty and responsibility. In a war and a crisis - and we are suffering both Brothers and Sisters - such characteristics are worth more than gold and worth more than swords.'

He sat back down.

LCP

2019-12-01, 10:35 PM

Adelbert's nomination seemed to go down well, with many around the table nodding along to his argument. When Adelbert sat back down, Grigore looked to Hieronymus.

"Father Hieronymus... do you accept Father Schreiber's nomination?"

"Leadership of the Temple is not something I ever looked or wished for," said Hieronymus. "But it would be my privilege to serve." He looked around the table. "Does anyone else wish to make a nomination?"

Pushing back his chair with a loud scrape, Barbaro stood. "I do," he said. "Father Hieronymus has many qualities to recommend him. He is a man of learning, a man of wisdom. But are these the qualities we need?" He looked around the table. "He was here, in the city, yet all the books in his library did not predict the attack that cost Mother Raqiyah her life. The time for introspection and study is past; the Temple needs a High Priest who knows how to lead."

Puffing out his chest, he took in a deep breath.

"For this reason, I wish to nominate the Abbot Tomas. He is as experienced as any of us here. He knows what it is to be a leader of men. And he has the full support of Captain Muzio Sforza," he added, causing a murmur to run around the table, "whose assistance we will surely need."

Hieronymus raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Abbot Tomas," he asked, leaning across the table to look his white-bearded counterpart in the eye, "do you accept this nomination?"

Tomas nodded, his expression calm and equanimous. "I do."

RossN

2019-12-02, 09:51 AM

Conclave

Adelbert frowned and glanced at Elsa and Urgrim to see if they anything to say.

Thragka

2019-12-02, 10:29 AM

Wellentag, 16th Nachgeheim – the Conclave

Urgrim pulled a curious face, and then raised a hand. "Is it usual for your princes to speak for the gods in this Temple?" he asked, trying to hold an innocent tone. "Forgive me – I'm honoured to be your guest here, but I'm ignorant of many human customs."

I'll make a Charm roll in an attempt, as indicated, to make this seem an innocent question, and not dirty political mudraking. [roll0]

LCP

2019-12-02, 10:40 PM

"Captain Sforza does not speak for any god here," said Ioana, rather sharply.

"A sentiment with which I am sure the Captain would agree," said Barbaro. "But it is the gods' way to work through mortal men, and Captain Sforza is the man we need beside us to fight this darkness." He switched to Classical and adopted an oratorical tone. <For lo, did blessed Myrmidia not entrust her spear and shield to the faithful Lagario?> Adelbert hadn't heard that point of Myrmidian doctrine before; he suspected Barbaro was making it up.

"This is a weighty decision," said Oswald of the Azrillites. "Might I suggest we take the night to think on it, and commune with our gods?"

"An excellent suggestion," said Hieronymus. "If it pleases the Conclave, we will reconvene at sunrise tomorrow for the counting of votes."

OOC: Let me know if you guys have anything more you want from this scene. Otherwise, you have the rest of the day, and the list of priests who will be voting - let me know which of them you wish to speak to before the vote, if any.

RossN

2019-12-03, 11:08 AM

Conclave

'My apologies Father Hieronymus, but I must ask a question before we break up,' Adelbert turned to Abbot Tomas. 'Abbot Thomas already runs a monastic order in a different city, which I confess surprises me with his acceptance of a nomination for leadership of this Temple, as I would have assumed he would be quite overburdened as is. Father Abbot do you intend to resign as head of the monastery in Putbad, or close or re-locate the order to Savonne? Or even re-locate the Temple to Putbad?'

LCP

2019-12-03, 04:26 PM

"I wouldn't dream of such a thing," said Tomas, his mild tones soothing the looks of consternation on the faces of the other priests. "These stones are as old as the Reaches themselves. If I am selected, Brother Konstantin here will assume my duties in Putbad."

Konstantin bowed his tonsured head in acknowledgement and gratitude.

RossN

2019-12-03, 04:56 PM

Conclave

'...Thereby giving your order control over this Temple, a large and important monastery and, I almost forgot, the shrine in Mannan's Keep,' Adelbert replied, raising an eyebrow. 'Well, we can certainly appreciate your zeal in accepting these duties Father Abbot but perhaps the rest of us can accept some of these many burdens of duty you so lightly don. Is that not so Brothers and Sisters?'

He looked around the table, hoping to see he had struck a chord.

OOC:
Charm: [roll0] vs 56

-Sentinel-

2019-12-03, 06:51 PM

Elsa spoke up in defense of Tomas, as he was after all her employer's chosen candidate: "What this demonstrates to me, Herr Schreiber, is that Abbot Tomas is a man with a great deal of firsthand leadership experience. A man who possesses knowledge in worldly matters as well as spiritual ones. Times of strife call for men of action, men of deeds; not only men of faith and wisdom. The strength of this land, or any land indeed, lies in her people; and therefore, whoever we name to lead the faith must be someone who is known to the people, and whose god is worshiped by many."

She gave a quick glance to Hieronymus, then went on: "Much as I respect the wisdom of the Verenans, I fear that they do not have much of a congregation in the Reaches. People see them and their goddess as... philosophers, more concerned with deep and abstract matters than the tedium of existence in our material world. Are they not more likely to listen to someone who treads the same paths they do and who knows the feel of dirt under his fingernails? Someone who has learned both how to lead and how to serve, such as the father of a monastic order?"

While she spoke, she avoided looking directly at Adelbert. She somehow felt almost like she was betraying him, even though she knew on an intellectual level that she had no obligation to support him in this matter.

"We need knowledge, yes. Father Hieronymus is an invaluable asset to the clergy of the Reaches. But he will impart his knowledge whether or not he is your leader. Someone who leads need not be the most knowledgeable man in the room. He only needs to be the one that the most people listen to when he speaks."

OOC
Elsa's Charm vs 29 due to penalty from loss of her familiar: [roll0]

Uuuuugh, wish I hadn't wasted so much time on this speech. :smallyuk:

RossN

2019-12-03, 07:03 PM

Conclave

Adelbert didn't bother hiding the look of disappointment and anger he directed at Elsa. 'Why, with the backing of the Captain's personal chaplain and his court wizard it is only a pity Signore Sforza could not attend here himself to speak on your behalf Father Abbot. Still, I suppose we can all be encouraged he'll be ready to... advise you on leadership should the crisis demand it. Well Brothers and Sisters I suggest we think and pray on this... before giving matters our independent judgement.'

He stood up. 'Father Hieronymous if I may ask for a word in private?'

LCP

2019-12-03, 07:24 PM

The assembled priests seemed to find Adelbert's bitter barbs and Elsa's unasked-for intervention equally unedifying. As the Conclave rose to go their separate ways, Hieronymus followed Adelbert to one side.

RossN

2019-12-03, 07:33 PM

Conclave

'That did not go as well as I'd hoped,' Adelbert admitted ruefully. 'You have more experience of these matters than I do, how do you think the vote will go? I can't see Bonifatius or Ioana voting for Thomas, or any of the Azrilites voting for you but otherwise I'm in the dark. Who do you think we can talk around?'

LCP

2019-12-03, 07:43 PM

Hieronymus looked unsure. "I'm afraid I have little experience in, ah, politics, myself," he said. "The last time we chose a High Priest, Raqiyah was the uncontested successor. And so I believe was Father Mortemer before her." He stroked his beard. "Barbaro, clearly, has chosen his candidate... of the others, I'd hope that those who were here on Geheimnisnacht might take our side. Tomas is a good man, but he hasn't faced the Jackal as we have."

The exercise of dividing the Conclave into friends and foes seem to make him miserable. "Perhaps it would be better if I simply stood aside," he mumbled. "Acrimony and division will do us no good... I have no stomach for it. What do you think, Schreiber?"

RossN

2019-12-03, 07:54 PM

Adelbert

'If the Abbot was a truly good man he would not willingly become the Tilean's catspaw,' Adelbert replied bluntly. 'Quite frankly if he wins the Temple will cease to have even the glimmer of independence. Nor do I expect anything from him in terms of mystical knowledge or ability.'

He looked at the senior priest in shock at his suggestion of standing aside, opening and closing his mouth obviously searching for the right words,'If you truly feel that way than I suppose you must stand aside, but I will not work for the Tilean. Choose someone else to stand in your stead.'

LCP

2019-12-03, 08:20 PM

"That would rather defeat the point, wouldn't it?" said Hieronymus. "Of not dividing us?"

Shaking his head somewhat peevishly, he took a seat in a stone alcove.

"Independence... I wonder what that means for us now. Sforza controls all the Reaches, except perhaps the Raven Hills. I don't believe that has happened since... well, perhaps since the crusades. What balance of power is there for him to respect?" He paused. "Barbaro says he is a godly man. We must hope that is true."

He took a deep breath.

"If I must stand, I will stand," he said. "But win or lose, we will need Tomas and his brothers after this is over. Try not to antagonise them, Schreiber. They are only doing what they think to be right."

RossN

2019-12-03, 08:34 PM

Adelbert

'That 'godly' man was working with the greenskins, was probably behind the murder of Evatt and certainly tried to cut a deal with that filthy traitor Groz,' Adelbert replied. 'And one of these days I'll see him on the gallows.'

He drew a shuddering breath, trying to calm himself. 'Well we must work with him until the vampire is destroyed. I fear you have rather more faith in the Abbot than I do Father Hieronymus. I pray you are right and I am wrong. I'll see who I can talk too.'

He bowed and took his leave, heading for where Heschler was saying.

LCP

2019-12-03, 08:45 PM

Adelbert's mention of greenskins clearly gave Hieronymus pause, but he sounded a note of caution all the same. "If you were to count every lord of the Reaches in the last century who didn't claim their crown through violence and deceit," he said, "I believe they would fit on the fingers of one hand. Sforza is the ruler we have; there is no shame in working with him. If nothing else, even the wickedest man can be redeemed."

Leaving Hieronymus behind, Adelbert found Hechsler where he had expected: on his way to the nearest alehouse. "Schreiber!" he said, as he caught sight of Adelbert. "Care to join me?"

Thragka

2019-12-04, 08:33 AM

Urgrim, Elsa

Urgrim listened quietly as the discussion around the nomination of Abbot Tomas grew spirited. Although he said no more, he paid careful attention to each point. When the meeting broke up, he remained seated in thought for a few moments. Rising, he made his way to Elsa. "Mind if I walk with you, Magister?"

He kept pace with her in silence for a little while, simply enjoying the fresh air and the restored peace of the Temple grounds. A fragile peace, certainly, perhaps little more than a gilded facade – but he didn't begrudge it for that. A brief smile touched his lips as he wondered what the pair of them looked like – their fair hair about the only feature they had in common. Him a stout dawi, and, although still young for his people, with a face beginning to furrow in age by human standards; her a tall, thin umga, barely an adult by her own kind's reckoning, let alone his, walking a frenetic path through life as she negotiated with a staggering power that knew no reason and might consume her and cast her aside at any moment. He hadn't known what to say to her, last night, in the tavern, as she nakedly transformed from sullen to openly, bitterly weeping at her familiar's loss. He had seen someone touched for the first time in their life by the overwhelming flood of true grief, and just because human lives were shorter than dawis' did not make that experience any less awful.

"We don't have priests," he eventually said, by way of starting the conversation. He nodded towards the looming Rock. "Well, we do, but not like yours. They're more like temple-keepers. We don't have this public side of things, with the ceremonies and grandeur. I do quite like that building, though," he admitted, indicating the Temple. "It seems very ... human, if you don't mind me saying. All your gods getting together under one roof, with enough space to argue and compromise and sort things out." He chuckled. "Which is a very human thing to do."

He reached into his pocket and drew out the opal talisman of Valaya, letting it catch the light. "This is my goddess. Valaya, keeper of hearth and home." He offered the pendant to Elsa, if she wanted to examine it. "Faith, for a dwarf, it's not about how you compare to other people, sing and shout your prayers the loudest. It's more about what you do when you're alone. What decisions you make, when you only have yourself to judge you.

"I don't really know what the decision here will mean, for the humans who look to this temple for the guidance of their gods. Not my place to tell you or anyone else how to worship your gods. But I suppose I'll see the results, in time." He sighed. "It's what makes it difficult, sometimes, for us – dwarves, I mean – to take humans seriously. They never see the consequences of their actions. Not really. How can you really think about what your choices mean when chances are you won't be able to see how they unfold in fifty, sixty years? It's a damn shame. You're so full of life, but gone in the blink of an eye. Makes it difficult for dwarves to have – friends who are human, too." There was something of a lump in his throat. The dwarf looked away from Elsa, and swallowed, and breathed deep.

He looked back to her, eyes glistening a little, and gave a chuckle that sounded a little forced. "Though in this case, fifty years is a bit optimistic of me, eh? 'Cos this is one of those choices where we'll actually see the results a lot sooner than we might all hope. And I do believe that this temple can be a powerful ally, and a rock we can build around, in the coming war. Now, I hope your prince can be too. But princes in these lands come and go like the morning frost, I've seen that happen enough times, for quite a bit longer than you've been alive I do reckon, unless my judge of human age is very, very wrong." He shrugged. "Can't say he's not the man who'll actually tame these lands. He might well be. But they say this temple's been here thousands of years. I'll be very interested to see if Sforza is here in twenty. But I'll be even more interested to see if we're all here in two."

"I'm a guest here, and I only hope that whatever happens in the next few days helps make sure there's a future for all of us. But as I said, I'm too ignorant to judge how humans think about this kind of thing. So I'd like to know what you think. What do you see the result of the Conclave being? For the war, and then – all our gods willing – for the times that come afterwards?"

I am thinking of this happening over the course of a rambling conversation as Urgrim speaks with Elsa, but given the constraints of my time zone, I thought it best to just make a big long post – just know it's not really intended to be a monologue at Elsa, more of a summary of what Urgrim would get across over time.

RossN

2019-12-04, 05:49 PM

Adelbert

'Er, for a short time perhaps,' Adelbert replied, wondering he and Hechsler would have to have words over ale consumption in the near future. But he had other business here and he decided that forthrightness was probably called for. 'Can I - and Father Hireonymous - count on your vote in the morrow my friend?'

LCP

2019-12-04, 09:09 PM

Hechsler looked thoughtful. "I can't say I know Father Hieronymus or the Abbot well," he said. "And old Barbaro may be a boot-licker, but he's got a point - we're going to need Sforza's money, and his men. The man knows how to fight, which is more than can be said for most of our brothers and sisters back there."

Stopping to lean against a wall, he paused for a moment. They were a few streets away from the Duke of Aquitaine, but Hechsler's bearings in the city weren't the best. "Still," he said, "it doesn't sit right, does it? Him thinking he can buy the Temple's loyalty like he does his mercenaries. I might be an outsider here, but my oaths were to Sigmar. His is the only crown I'll kneel to." He nodded. "So aye, I think Hieronymus has my vote."

-Sentinel-

2019-12-05, 12:30 AM

Elsa and Urgrim

He reached into his pocket and drew out the opal talisman of Valaya, letting it catch the light. "This is my goddess. Valaya, keeper of hearth and home." He offered the pendant to Elsa, if she wanted to examine it. "Faith, for a dwarf, it's not about how you compare to other people, sing and shout your prayers the loudest. It's more about what you do when you're alone. What decisions you make, when you only have yourself to judge you.
Elsa glanced at the pendant and nodded. "Maybe that's more my kind of faith, really. I've always been a bit cynical about priests, and... all the showy, organized aspect of religion and belief. I prefer a more personal kind of faith."

She paused. "Come to think of it, I don't have much personal faith, either." The realization seemed to surprise her. "I suppose I prefer to put my faith in people. We, humble mortals. We are fallible and often disappointing, but we are... tangible. You can actually see our works; stand inside them, as we do now. If I cannot believe in people, then I don't know what's truly left to believe in."

She chuckled. "This may seem surprisingly down-to-earth, for a wizard. I guess that, when you can bend magic to your will, there are fewer mysteries in the world. You start to think: what can mortals not do, all by themselves, if they have the will? How much do they really need the gods?"

Elsa wagged her finger playfully at the dwarf. "Don't tell anyone here I spoke such heresy!"

She remained silent through most of Urgrim's sobering speech about mortality and the fleeting nature of all things, only nodding along occasionally. She was well aware that Sforza's nation might not last long. But other men and women would come later and build new ones... so long as they had a chance. So long as the desert did not engulf the Reaches. She much preferred to envision a future of strife and hardship for the Reaches than no future at all.

Life was not fair, but it was life. It had to go on. It had to.

What was the alternative?

There was none.

"I'm a guest here, and I only hope that whatever happens in the next few days helps make sure there's a future for all of us. But as I said, I'm too ignorant to judge how humans think about this kind of thing. So I'd like to know what you think. What do you see the result of the Conclave being? For the war, and then – all our gods willing – for the times that come afterwards?"
Elsa found it a strange question. She pondered it for a moment. "I... don't know, Urgrim," she said at last. "I really don't. But I know that we... that they need to elect a grounded man, a man of deeds. My speech back there was partly politics in service of Sforza's interests, but I meant every word. We can't count on the gods to save us. We have to save ourselves, and if the gods want to lend a hand, let them. Me, I will do my work alongside soldiers, not priests."

RossN

2019-12-05, 06:02 AM

Adelbert

Adelbert smiled. 'Good choice... and I'm grateful. If I've learned nothing else out here in the Reaches it is how you can't trust the princes to see a problem until it is their problem. Barbaro can't talk all he likes about the Tileans men and money but we'd have seen little of either until disaster was about to hit. Let's stand on our own two feet with our gods.'

He led Hechsler to the Duke, staying for an ale before making his apologies and heading back to the Temple to visit Jocasta.

Thragka

2019-12-05, 07:57 AM

Urgrim and Elsa

Urgrim smiled as he listened to Elsa's discursion on the relationship between mortals and the gods. There it was again: youthful, human, optimism and ambition. He couldn't deny that it was endearing.

Elsa wagged her finger playfully at the dwarf. "Don't tell anyone here I spoke such heresy!"

Urgrim laughed without opening his lips. "You're already a northern witch," he said, matching her light-hearted tone. "One barbarian custom's much the same as any other to me."

"I... don't know, Urgrim," she said at last. "I really don't. But I know that we... that they need to elect a grounded man, a man of deeds. My speech back there was partly politics in service of Sforza's interests, but I meant every word. We can't count on the gods to save us. We have to save ourselves, and if the gods want to lend a hand, let them. Me, I will do my work alongside soldiers, not priests."

"Aye, mine too." He looked off into the distance. "Still ... the gods are with us, I believe."

He nodded. "I want to believe Sforza would be the man of action you say. I'd hope he's smart enough to know that the enemy is a threat to all of his grand dreams." He sighed. "But his obstinance over the book eats away at those thoughts. The Dwimmulhold is, beyond doubt, the safest place for it, and I can't understand how he can disagree with that, if he's the man you say he is." He shrugged. "It may yet come to a choice between Sforza's ambitions and Nahorek's defeat. And if such a time does come, I'm anxious to know what choice he'd make. If he doesn't make the right one, it may have to be made for him."

That was all the dwarf had to say on such weighty political matters, at least for the moment. He let the conversation drift away from the matter of the Conclave. Before he left, he turned to face Elsa head-on, a gentle expression on his face. "I wanted to say to you, also ... I'm sorry for your loss. Morrslieb. It – he was a great ally, especially that night. He fought as hard as any of us to defend the book. I've no doubt we'd have lost it, without the things he did for us. I know this can't be an easy time for you. Anything I can do, let me know."

~

After taking his leave of Elsa, the ranger sought out Abbot Tomas. He introduced himself politely, and congratulated the Azrillite on his nomination. "As you've seen," he said with a wry smile, "some of the local priests are ... wary of prospect of a leader who was not here on Geheimnisnacht, and only knows the circumstances second-hand. And I can't deny that it seems a strange prospect for me too, after fighting on the Temple grounds that night. Of course, I'm not voting. But I still wondered, if you wouldn't mind – could you share your perspective on the task ahead of the Temple, and its leader?"

LCP

2019-12-05, 05:14 PM

Adelbert

Adelbert found Jocasta in her usual spot - under the tree by the east gate of the garden. It looked much the same as it ever had, with the exception of the old graves that had been filled back in with fresh earth. The tombstones still stood, bearing the names of the unfortunates who had been ripped from their rest by Nahorek's magic.

OOC: If you have a shopping list of priests you want to speak to, please feel free to timesplit - and also don't feel you need for me to wait to say you find them before asking what you want to ask.

Urgrim

The Azrillites had taken lodgings at the Duke, and Urgrim found them in the tavern's common hall. Sipping on a small cup of sherry, Tomas seemed mildly surprised to see him.

"I didn't know the Temple's affairs were of such interest to the Dwimmulsons," said one of the monks with him - the thin-faced Konstantin. Wiping his white beard with the back of his hand, Tomas shrugged his shoulders as if to say he did not mind the question.

"Justice for Raqiyah comes first, master dwarf. The Temple must support the Captain and the Cult of Morr in the extermination of these necromancers. I thought Brother Cezar's suggestion of sending word to his order in the north was very sensible. The rest of us must simply render what assistance we can, while defending our ancient rights in this new age." He took another sip of his drink. "I trust the Rinn is of the same mind?"

RossN

2019-12-05, 07:16 PM

Adelbert

'I'm fond of trees too, but you have a stronger stomach than mine,' Adelbert said. He smiled at Jocasta and settled down beside her. 'It will take me a while to see this place as tranquil again.'

He took a deep breath before starting. 'Jocasta, I'll admit I hate the Tilean and if Barbaro said the sky was blue I'd be tempted to argue it was tangerine, but I do think Hieronymus will be a better leader than Abbot Tomas. Hieronymus has experienced what we're fighting against, he knows. Tomas knows how to run a profitable monastery. In peace time... well perhaps, but I don't think he is what we need right now. Besides I'm worried that if the Azrillites take leadership here they'll have gained a little too much power - they already run the second most important religious institution in the Reaches.'

He paused, then smiled ruefully and added. 'It must be easier following Rhya. Verena encourages us to be healthy sceptics - which often means pessimists.'

After Jocasta Adelbert went to check in on the clergy of Morr, and delivered much the same argument.

'Brother Cezar, Father Bonifatius you know Father Hieronymus. His reluctance to take this leadership is very real, as is his devotion to this Temple. I'm sure that he wants the leadership restored to the devoted of Morr as soon as possible... I am not sure i can say the same about Abbot Tomas, Father Barbaro or the Captain. I know this is a matter of personal faith and confidence but I would ask you to strongly consider voting for Father Hieronymus.'

Finally, tired and hungry he made his way to the Hospital to speak with Sister Stefania and Sister Ioana.

'Sisters, I know you have been through a lot. All of us have, but I'd ask for your votes for Father Hieronymus. He is a good man, a wise man and he knows first hand what we are dealing with. I'm not convinced Abbot Tomas - or Captain Sforza for that matter - do. I cannot claim I'm unbiased here; I have bad blood with the Tilean. But I do still trust and admire Hieronymus more. I've spoken with him and he's not happy about the divisions we have undergone, which means he's already a better diplomat than I am. I think he'll be a good leader.'

LCP

2019-12-05, 11:19 PM

Adelbert

Seeing Jocasta

Jocasta raised an eyebrow at Adelbert's statement. "While we just go around smelling flowers and talking to birds, is that it?" For a moment, her tone seemed challenging, but Adelbert suspected she was teasing him. "Trust me, Adelbert, a life in the fields has just as many miseries as you learn about in your books."

She gave Adelbert a long look. "Father Hieronymus doesn't seem like a fighter to me. He wasn't with us when the Jackal came. Then again, neither was Tomas." She paused. "You're a fighter, Adelbert. If Hieronymus is who you believe in, then he has my vote. Votes." She looked up at the tree. "But I don't know that either of these men are the men we need to lead."

Seeing the Morrites

Tired from the day's debate, Bonifatius was snoozing in a wicker chair. Adelbert's arrival woke him up, and he seemed none too happy about it - though talk of returning the leadership of the Temple to the Morrites seemed to mollify him a little.

"Abbot Tomas is a good man," he croaked. "A respected man. I hope you have not come to us to - hrmph - impugn his honesty."

Cezar intervened. "I'm sure Father Schreiber meant no such thing," he said.

"Hieronymus," Bonifatius continued. "I remember Hieronymus when he was just a scrawny young fellow... hmph, much like yourself," he said, pointing a bony finger at Adelbert. "Nose always in his books. Tell me, Father... Schreiber, was it?" He squinted at Adelbert with rheumy eyes. "If Hieronymus is the one to lead us, why doesn't he lead his own flock? How many priests has he trained to spread the word of Verena, besides yourself?"

OOC: A Charm test would be appropriate to get around Bonifatius' cantankerousness - or another skill if you see a use for it.

Seeing the Shallyans

Stefania looked strangely awkward when Adelbert made his appearance. She handed him over to Ioana, who led him to the quiet of an empty room to talk.

"We received a message this afternoon," she said. "Captain Sforza would like to make a donation to the Great Hospital. He asks us to come to the castle to discuss it with him... after we have finished electing the new High Priest."

RossN

2019-12-06, 08:36 AM

Adelbert

Seeing Jocasta

Adelbert smiled ruefully. 'I respect Father Hieronymus greatly and I think his knowledge and his experience are vital but he isn't Magnus the Pious. But who is here? We have no other senior leaders who can step into the role. We'll just have to make do.'

Before he left he left he glanced at the priestess, smiled and added: 'I hope I provide as much good conversation as the birds.'

Seeing the Morrites

Adelbert was taken aback but rallied, or at least tried to.

'Forgive me father Bonifatius the way of the Lady Verena is not for all. It takes a certain temper and interest, a love of learning for its own sake. I myself, only have one student, young Bertelis,' he paused and smiled. 'After all what do the texts say: 'better a single reader who understands than a hundred who pretend understanding'.

He looked at the older man before adding: 'But Father Hieronymus knows, as do I that not all learning comes from the page. We need the voice of experience and the strength of tradition. We'll need your wisdom and advice, both of you in this difficult road ahead. Most of our initiates are of the Cult of Morr. I can of no better education for them than see you and Father Hieronymus working together.'

OOC:
Academic Knowledge (Theology): [roll0] vs 66.

Hopefully Adelbert hasn't just bungled his theology!

Seeing the Shallyans

Adelbert winced. 'Ah... I should have expected as much. That is most unfortunate... I am not a rich man, certainly not rich enough to outbid Sforza.'

A long pause. 'Well. There we are. There is nothing for it. You and Sister Stefania must do what is right for your patients and the goddess. They are your primary concern. In that case there is little point continuing here. Good evening Sister Ioana.'

He stood up and departed for his own Chambers in the temple. He was very tired, and tomorrow promised to be grisly.

Thragka

2019-12-06, 11:58 AM

Urgrim, the Duke

"Ah," said Urgrim. "Sorry, Fathers, I hope I've not accident'ly misled you. I'm not a Dwimmulson" – he was getting really fed up of having to say that – "and I definit'ly don't represent Rinn Elmendrin at the Conclave. I only began working with her clan when they were preparin' to take leave of Putbad. So in fact, I reckon you may have more experience with her than I do, Abbot Tomas! Have you met her?" If these umgi did have a bit of a blind spot towards dwarves, Urgi figured he might as well take advantage of playing up the accent and giving them the old hi-ho treatment.

"The Temple certain'ly is an ancient, august institution," he continued with a nod. "I b'lieve it features in the oldest dwarf records of these lands. The Rinn knew as much, when she donated the ironbark chest, that the Temple's auspices would be a stalwart defence of the Book of Nagash. I trust she's keen to see its primacy maintained. Her chief concern is only how best to continue helping in the safeguarding of the Book. I know she's already offered the deepest vaults of the Dwimmulhold to Captain Sforza, with the same recipr'cal arrangement of supervision as currently stands. Not sure he's responded to her yet, but perhaps he'll come to a decision about whether to keep storing it in the Temple or not once the Conclave is concluded."

I'll throw in a Charm test, for the ol' hi-ho treatment, with a Fortune point. [roll0] [roll1]

~

After speaking to the Azrillites, Urgrim wandered across the common room to Hechsler. —Jurgen! Strength to your arm!, he said cheerily. "Can I get you a drink?"

When they'd sat down together, Urgrim began chatting about the Conclave. "What do you think of the candidates? Abbot Tomas – well, a naked ploy by Captain Sforza, for sure. Now, I've met Father Heironymous on occasion, and it's true, he's a bookish sort. Doesn't always seem to have his feet on the ground. But the sheer gall of Sforza, eh? He couldn't be more brazen.

"And Father Heironymous, at least, knows full well the fight we've got ahead of us." Urgrim lowered his voice. "I was speaking to the Azrillites there, just now. I'm not entirely convinced they realise what's at stake. There's a Book of Nagash under lock and key in the militia barracks, Grimnirs az. The arch-necromancer! That's why the Temple was attacked in the first place."

He leaned back. "I'm not sure what Sforza's angle is either, as regards the book. Sending it to Tilea, or waiting for the Morrites to work out what to do, all seems like unnecessary delay ... I think he sees it as an asset." He shook his head. "You know, the Rinn Elmendrin – the Dwimmulson chief – has offered twice now to safeguard the book in the Dwimmulhold vaults, under the Rock? It's nominally in the Temple's safekeeping, with the Dwimmulsons allowed to inspect it. But Sforza hasn't answered her. If I could recommend one thing, as a guest of the Conclave, it'd be that the Temple think seriously about her offer. At least that'd be doing something that can make a real difference against the enemy."

LCP

2019-12-06, 12:40 PM

Adelbert

Seeing Jocasta

Jocasta smiled back. "Almost," she said.

A couple of crows behind the rose-thickets began croaking at each other over a dead mouse.

Seeing the Morrites

Bonifatius looked skeptical - or maybe just tired. "Why yes," he muttered to himself, "with Hieronymus' help we might raise another one initiate."

"The vampire is an abomination unto Morr," said Cezar. "Whoever is chosen, we will stand behind them."

Seeing the Shallyans

Ioana said nothing, but looked conflicted as Adelbert left. In the courtyard, Herr Reinholt was taking the air by the fountain, one of the younger Shallyans supporting his bony arm as he tottered about. The old lunatic waved to Adelbert in a dignified way, like a king condescending to his subjects.

Urgrim

With the Azrillites

"Ah," said Urgrim. "Sorry, Fathers, I hope I've not accident'ly misled you. I'm not a Dwimmulson" – he was getting really fed up of having to say that – "and I definit'ly don't represent Rinn Elmendrin at the Conclave. I only began working with her clan when they were preparin' to take leave of Putbad. So in fact, I reckon you may have more experience with her than I do, Abbot Tomas! Have you met her?"

"During her clan's stay in Putbad, yes," said Tomas. He gave a gentle smile. "We try our hand at brewing in the monastery. Seeing the Dwimmulsons leave was a sad day for our purser brother Oswald here."

"The Temple certain'ly is an ancient, august institution," he continued with a nod. I b'lieve it features in the oldest dwarf records of these lands. The Rinn knew as much, when she donated the ironbark chest, that the Temple's auspices would be a stalwart defence of the Book of Nagash. I trust she's keen to see its primacy maintained. Her chief concern is only how best to continue helping in the safeguarding of the Book. I know she's already offered the deepest vaults of the Dwimmulhold to Captain Sforza, with the same recipr'cal arrangement of supervision as currently stands. Not sure he's responded to her yet, but perhaps he'll come to a decision about whether to keep storing it in the Temple or not once the Conclave is concluded."

"My understanding is that it was removed from the Temple grounds after the attack," said Tomas. He looked to Grigore. "Is that right?"

"Yes, Reverend Father," said Grigore. "It's currently being held at the keep."

"Father Barbaro has told me of plans to send it out of the Reaches, to Estalia or Tilea. I'm sure everyone in Savonne would be happy to see it sent far from here, Rinn Elmendrin included," said Tomas. "But in the meantime I'm sure there could be no safer place than inside the Rock."

With Father Hechsler

Hechsler was happy to see Urgrim, and happier still to be offered another drink. Drinking away, he listened closely to what Urgrim had to say.

"Nagash," he scoffed when Urgrim mentioned the Great Necromancer, and Urgrim wondered just how many drinks in the Sigmarite was. "You know what the Heldenhammer did to Nagash?" He held up his fists. "Hammer," he said, shaking his right hand. "Head", he said, shaking his left. Very slowly, he moved his fists together, then opened his left hand and spread his fingers as wide as he could. "Boom!"

As Urgrim continued, he grew a little more serious. "You think he wants it for himself? The Tilean?" His expression darkened. "Back in the Empire, that'd be the end of him. High lord or lady, doesn't matter. No-one's above Sigmar's law." He sighed. "Not so here."

Sitting a little more upright on his stool, he marshalled his thoughts. "Still, it stands to reason," he said. "No safer place. The new High Priest can press him. We can all press him. And if he refuses again..." - he took a swig of his drink - "well, then maybe we'll have a bit more of the measure of the man."

RossN

2019-12-06, 02:21 PM

Adelbert

Adelbert gloomily waved back at Reinholt. Poor old fool was maybe the most content man in Savonne.

With nothing else to do he trudged back home to prepare for yet another defeat at the instigation of the Tilean.

LCP

2019-12-08, 03:08 PM

Aubentag, 17th Nachgeheim

The next day, the Conclave gathered at the Temple once again. According to Hohenzoller's Book of the Seasons, this was the last day of summer - but with the sun still shining brightly on the roofs of the city, it felt like the summer could go on forever.

Inside, the priests milled around until everyone was present, and Hieronymus could call the Conclave to order. There was an uncertain, almost febrile atmosphere in the room. Adelbert noted how Barbaro was taking care to greet every new arrival in person.

"We have taken a day to deliberate, and seek the guidance of the gods," said Hieronymus, once everyone was settled. "Now the time has come to cast our votes. Father Bonifatius," he said, turning the old Morrite. "In honour of Morr's place here, would you like to begin?"

Bonifatius gave a self-important nod. Puffing up his toast-rack of a chest, he spoke up as best he could.

"In the name of Morr," he said, "I cast my vote for Abbot Tomas. He is the only one here with experience of leadership, and leadership is what we require."

Hieronymus looked a little crestfallen, but nodded and turned to Cezar.

"In the name of Morr," said Cezar, "I cast my vote for Father Hieronymus." Bonifatius scowled. "He has seen the face of the enemy."

Next were the Azrillites, all three of whom cast their votes for the Abbot. Barbaro followed suit, looking quietly confident as he did.

"In the name of Taal and Rhya," said Jocasta, "I vote for Father Hieronymus."

"In the name of Sigmar, though we are far from his land," said Hechsler, who was looking a little the worse for wear after his last night's drinking. "Hieronymus."

All eyes turned to Ioana and Stefania. The votes stood at five to four in favour of the Abbot, or with everyone knowing which way Adelbert would cast his vote, five to five. The Shallyans held the decision in their hands. They looked at one another, an uncomfortable silence lingering over the room.

"In the name of Shallya," said Ioana at last, "we vote for Father Hieronymus."

RossN

2019-12-08, 03:24 PM

Adelbert

Adelbert had not slept his best, but he had prayed to the Goddess to give him guidance on the path ahead. He had a feeling he needed it.

It was with mounting dread he watched the other priests vote, right up until the turn came for Ioana and Stefania. As their decision struck him Adelbert looked at the Sisters of Shallya in open shock. It took a moment for him to recall he had not yet voted himself. 'In the name of Verena I vote for Father Hieronymus.'

LCP

2019-12-08, 03:53 PM

Father Barbaro looked equally astonished. Hieronymus looked flustered but pleased, while Tomas took the vote in stride.

"Father Hieronymus," he said, breaking the silence that followed. "May I be the first to congratulate you on your appointment. I'm sure you will serve the Temple with distinction."

"Thank you, Abbot," said Hieronymus. "I, um - I hope I can justify the Conclave's confidence."

"So!" said Hechsler, thumping the table with his fist. "We have a High Priest! Now, can we actually decide some things? Like sending for the raven knights?" He waved a hand at Brother Cezar. "Or raising some men of our own?"

Immediately, the Conclave fell to arguing again. Adelbert let the mingled voices wash over him, watching the defeated-looking Barbaro slump silently back in his chair. They had won! They had actually won.

Ioana's voice broke in on his savouring of the moment. The Shallyans were excusing themselves from the debate, leaving the discussion of how best to fight Nahorek to the more martially-minded cults. "I thought on what you said, Father Schreiber," said Ioana. "We decided the goddess would prefer a High Priest who tells us to do what is best for her people, rather than what is best for themselves." She looked over her shoulder at Hieronymus, who was getting into the particulars of the Laws of Saint Rodolphus with Father Hechsler. "I hope Father Hieronymus proves us right."

OOC: The Conclave are still arguing because they love to argue, but you don't need to draw out this scene unless there's something you want to make sure is discussed/agreed: let me know when you're ready to move on.

RossN

2019-12-08, 04:04 PM

Adelbert

Adelbert stood and took Ioana's hand for a moment. He wasn't sure whether he should bow so he settled for a grateful smile: 'Thank you Sister. He'll do do his best... we'll all do our best.'

He listened to the arguments for a moment before standing up raising his own voice: 'Brothers and Sisters, there is one thing we must all do to honour our gods, avenge our fallen and to protect our wards: cleanse our home. The vampire polluted this sacred building with it's vile presence and its sorcerers and we must consecrate it anew. I ask you, let us work together and help this be a holy place once more.'

OOC:
Unless Adelbert gets massive pushback against his 'reconsecrate the Temple' idea I'm quite happy to move on.

LCP

2019-12-08, 04:12 PM

Though there was some quibbling over the details, no-one could dispute the wisdom of Adelbert's suggestion. At length, they all agreed to take part in the ritual of reconsecration - given a few days to gather the appropriate sacrifices, of course. All agreed it should be done before the coronation.

OOC: Unless you have another preference, I think the priests' preferred date for the ritual will be 2 days from now (the 19th). Let me know if you have other stuff you want to do before then - I'm going to skip ahead to Ludo and Sieghard picking up the spearhead, but very happy to timesplit in either direction.

Marktag, 18th Nachgeheim

Ludo & Sieghard

Manann’s Keep seemed strangely empty for a market day - perhaps because most of its most prominent merchants had already headed north for the coronation. Sforza’s colours fluttered feebly in the wind over Evatt’s crooked keep, the wooden walls of the Knight Mariner’s fort looking more ridiculous than ever. The Captain would have no need for it now - he had moved on to bigger things.

Sieghard’s stash in the old barracks was still there, apparently untouched. To unearth the spearhead, he had to dig - but it didn’t take much digging before he heard the clink of metal under his borrowed spade. Brushing the dirt off the buried sack, he opened it to see the golden spearhead, gleaming back at him.

-Sentinel-

2019-12-09, 09:41 PM

Elsa was quietly pleased with the result of the vote, though her face remained neutral. She liked Hieronymous and trusted him far more than some stranger. Her speech the day before was mostly a mixture of duty to Sforza (she knew Barbaro was expecting her to express a preference) and competitive spirit against Adelbert. Hopefully the Church of Verena would prove equal to the task of getting the attention and respect of a largely illiterate population.

It's probably healthy for Sforza to learn he can't always get what he wants, she thought.

She called for attention and spoke again: "I'm afraid that the rites of Morr have proven inadequate when it came to keeping the dead in their graves," she said, with an apologetic look at Father Bonifatius. "And even if they were good enough, we just don't have enough Morrites to consecrate every new grave, everywhere. Many people will likely have to be laid to rest in the coming months. Is there a more... mundane way of treating any new bodies in such a way that they cannot rise again, and which would be acceptable to the Church of Morr? I've been thinking about cremation, but I'm told many people would reject the notion."

The idea that anyone would prefer burial to cremation was strange to her. Why would the idea of being eaten by worms in a dark, damp box sound better than having one's ashes scattered in the wind?

LeSwordfish

2019-12-10, 08:31 AM

"We're going to have real trouble lying to Urgi about this." Ludo pointed out as they exhumed the spear. "It's not like it'll be easy to hide."

He fingered the rune on the spearhead. "Is this the magic bit? Do you think if we scratched this on the arrowheads..."

LCP

2019-12-10, 12:29 PM

The Conclave, 17th Nachgeheim

Elsa's short speech did not go down well. "Inadequate?" spluttered Bonifatius, some colour rising to the old man's grey face. "Inadequate?"

"The fact that the necromancer defiles the dead should not be grounds to abuse them further," said Cezar. "Even if we were willing to countenance such sacrilege - "

" - which we are not - " broke in Bonifatius,

" - it would do nothing to deprive him of the generations already in the ground. You would defile these bodies to deny him a few months' worth of the dead? How long do we intend to allow this creature to roam free?" He looked around the table. "The best cure for necromancy is to destroy the necromancer."

Most of the priests around the table nodded agreement.

"To that end, Father Bonifatius, Brother Cezar," said Hieronymus, "I think I speak for all of us when I say you have the Temple's blessing to write to your brothers and sisters in the north. Stress to them the power of the enemy and ask them to send whatever help they can." More nodding. "Nakht-Horeb will not be idle. The longer this beast is left unchecked, the greater the danger to us all."

"All well and good," said Barbaro, "but as the Magister has told us, he has fled into the marshes. The Captain's army cannot follow there."

"We may not need an army," said Hieronymus. "If I recall my Imperial history, one man in the right place was the undoing of the Von Carsteins. Perhaps, with Morr's help, we can cut the head off this snake."

"And while we wait for these... raven knights?" asked Jocasta. She sounded a little dubious of the plan. "As you said, Father, he will not be idle."

"...I suppose all we can do is ensure he does not leave the marsh," said Hieronymus. "Magister Hildebrand, you said they were encamped in the ruins near Ravenskird? That is your parish, is it not, Brother Cezar?"

Cezar nodded. "Though I had thought to take up Brother Liebrecht's position here," he said. "Someone needs to watch over our initiates."

"Well, regardless," said Hieronymus, still very tentative in the use of his new authority. "It seems to me that perhaps the Temple should increase its presence in Ravenskird. To keep watch over the marsh, and uncover the enemy's plans."

There was a long silence. "I can do it," said Father Hechsler, at last. All eyes turned to him. "They don't need me in Elmridge. I mean... not as much as we need someone here. Carrying the fight against the dark... I think that's what Sigmar would want."

The other priests nodded in appreciation. "Ravenskird is the last settlement on the Azril," said the Abbot. "Azriller would wish us to watch over it as well. With your permission, Father Hieronymus, I will send Brother Grigore to accompany Father Hechsler."

"The more the better," said Hieronymus. He looked to Hechsler. "All the help the Temple can offer will be at your disposal. I only wish we had more priests to send."

Thragka

2019-12-10, 03:51 PM

Urgrim – the Conclave, Aubentag 17th Nachgeheim

"Clan Dwimmulson may be able to help with that," Urgrim said. "Rinn Elmendrin would be happy to assist the Temple. If manpower's what you are wanting, I'm sure she'd lend clansfolk to the task. If, of course, the Temple felt that were appropriate." he added, looking particularly to Barbaro. "I'm sure the Rinn has no desire to impugn on the rights of this institution - or the sovereignty of Captain Sforza. But she is hopeful to cooperate however she can in this battle."

TheSummoner

2019-12-10, 04:19 PM

Sieghard

"Are you a wizard now?" Sieghard asked, pulling a sack of coins up from the cache. "If making magic weapons was that easy, everyone would have one."

"Urgrim's nice and he's helped us against the vampire, but that doesn't mean we have to tell him everything. It's a dwarf-made spear, what if he decides it belongs to the dwarfs? What if he doesn't, but mentions it to one of the Dwimmulsons and they decide that? It's too important a weapon to risk losing over something so petty."

LCP

2019-12-10, 04:34 PM

The Conclave, 17th Nachgeheim

"I'm sure the assistance of Clan Dwimmulson would be much appreciated," said Hieronymus. He looked to his left. "What do you say, Father Hechsler?"

"Any dwarf that wants to come with us to Ravenskird is more than welcome," said Hechsler. "I'm sure they'd be worth a dozen of our men."

RossN

2019-12-10, 04:47 PM

The Conclave, 17th Nachgeheim

'I am also in favor of any Clan Dwimmulson can give us,' Adelbert said, 'though we should remember the main objective will be to send warning if and when the enemy moves, not to build a fortress out of a village. If the worst happens evacuate the villagers and send word here.'

He hesitated. 'Urgrim, I believe you had some thoughts regarding the Book...?' He looked at the dwarf, inviting him to speak.

Thragka

2019-12-11, 04:12 PM

Urgrim – the Conclave, Aubentag 17th Nachgeheim

"Thank you, Father Schreiber," Urgrim said. "I also wanted to remind the Conclave of the Rinn's offer to impound the Book in the Dwimmulhold vaults – it's clearly a prize the enemy will go to great lengths to obtain. If that's also something the Dwimmulsons could assist with before the Cult of Morr's aid can arrive," he said, with a nod to Bonifatius, "the offer stands."

LeSwordfish

2019-12-11, 04:36 PM

"Well, I hope you know how you're hiding it." Ludo said dubiously. "Unless you break it off the haft, it won't fit in your bag."

LCP

2019-12-11, 05:32 PM

The Conclave, 17th Nachgeheim

"And it is much appreciated," said Hieronymus. "The book is no longer in the Temple's hands, but if the Captain can be convinced, I will urge him to entrust it to the Rinn." No-one seemed to object to that. "After Geheimnisnacht, there is no precaution we shouldn't take."

-Sentinel-

2019-12-11, 06:59 PM

"I've been trying to convince him," Elsa chimed in. "Any help in that regard would be much appreciated. I fear he does not understand how dangerous the Book is, and how little use we have for it. He sees it as a sort of tribute to the Myrmidians. Might as well gift them a box of scorpions."

Not for the first time, she wished she had handed over the Book to the dwarfs the morning after the attack on the Temple. She could have explained herself later. Now, if she tried anything, it would not be seen as her merely going over the Captain's head in his absence, but as a brazen act of treason.

"Perhaps the Myrmidians are more likely to be convinced."

LCP

2019-12-11, 07:45 PM

The Conclave, 17th Nachgeheim

"The Myrmidians have squashed their share of scorpions," said Barbaro. "We are speaking of the High Temple in Magritta, where the vampire Nourgul was reduced to ash when he tried to seize the Tome of Wisdom. The centre of the Myrmidian faith. With all respect to Signor... Jotunnsson?" - he paused for a moment, not sure he had the name correct - "How can we or the Dwimmulsons consider ourselves better placed to protect this book than the Aguila Ultima?" He looked around the faces of the assembled priests. "The world is wider than this city. It seems a foolish pride to me."

"I agree with Father Barbaro," said the Abbot. "The sooner this book is out of the Reaches the better." He looked to Urgrim. "Though in the meantime, perhaps the Dwimmulhold would be the safest place."

Barbaro shrugged his shoulders at that. Hieronymus nodded. "Father Barbaro, perhaps you can accompany me to speak with Captain Sforza on this matter. I'm sure you know his mind better than anyone here."

Barbaro looked a little uncomfortable, but gave a cautious nod. "It would be my pleasure," he said, with a strained smile.

-Sentinel-

2019-12-12, 06:13 PM

OOC: LCP, if you think there would be a better time for this event, feel free to PM me and I'll postpone it.

Elsa - 17th Nachgeheim, late at night

Elsa sat in her room with a fire burning in the fireplace and an opened bottle of wine by her side, the Harmugstahl grimoire open on her bed at the chapter On Human Sacrifice. She had begun to ponder who might be the most “expendable” subject for a sacrifice—a convicted murderer? A ninety-year-old man? A suicidal person?—when a very simple realization struck her like a thrown brick:

What in Sigmar’s name am I doing?

By then she had a lot of wine in her, and yet she thought more clearly than she had in days, as if emerging from the haze she had been in since Morrslieb’s death. She sat deep in reflection for a moment, and slowly came to admit that all paths led to the same conclusion no matter what reasoning she tried to make. Any indecision on her part came merely from fear, and not the presence of another and equally valid way.

She sat down at her desk, took out a quill and parchment, and began to write. The words came easily to her, as if they had only been waiting at the tip of her quill.

To Sieghard, Ludo and Adelbert,

I am growing older and wiser. I am making mistakes and learning from them. And I realize that power, it is an abstract thing. It can take many forms, only some of which can be taught at colleges or granted by gods or daemons. I have the power to conjure up a massive fire, and some people have the power to make others form bucket lines to put out that fire. And the second kind? I think that is what the Reaches truly need in the current age.

These words will sound familiar to Adelbert, as he heard me express similar sentiments at the recent Conclave. Though I was playing politics for Sforza, I spoke with sincerity. We need fieldworkers and metalworkers more than we need miracle workers. We need swords more than spells, leaders of men more than servants of gods, and courage more than piety or arcane knowledge. These are the things that built civilization. These are the things that will keep it going, and make it overcome all the adversity that the world will throw at it.

Which brings me to the point of this letter.

If you have cause to read this, I have likely been found dead in inexplicable circumstances.

Ever since the Battle of Arrow Heap, I have been watched by daemonic beings visible only to me. They demand that I do unspeakable things in exchange for more arcane power. I have kept quiet about it, both to avoid their retaliation and out of fear that you would think me corruptible and start treating me as a potential enemy.

As I write these lines, I do not yet know to what extent these beings can harm me in the physical world, but I fear I am about to find out. I just made a decision that they will not like.

Elsa.

After the ink dried, she folded the sheet in two, then wrote on top of it:

Open only if I am found dead. Elsa.

As she set down the folded letter on her nightstand, Elsa realized she had never been so scared in her entire life. This was not the surface-level terror of facing down an Orc warlord or an ancient vampire, but something bone-deep, much like—or so she imagined—being told by a physician that one’s symptoms were starting to resemble a deadly illness for which there was no known cure.

She closed the grimoire of daemonic magic and set it down in her lap. She took a deep breath. Then she spoke, keeping her voice low; she did not want a passing servant to overhear.

“I don’t know if you’re listening,” she said, addressing them. “But I’ve given some thought to what you want me to do.”

“It was clever of you to appeal to my vanity; to imply that all we needed to win, was for me to be more powerful. My arrogant self wanted to believe it. But what if I had never left the Empire and come down here in the first place? Would Nahorek’s victory be inevitable? Hah. I am hardly the savior of the Reaches. There are no such things as chosen ones. Nahorek is no god at all, and the mortals of the Reaches can defeat him, with or without me.”

Preferably with me.

“I don’t know what you can do to me in retaliation or in spite, for all the good that it will do you. I won’t lie, it terrifies me. But I’ve made up my mind.”

“What you want me to do—I will not do it.”

She rose, walked over to the fireplace, and consigned the grimoire to the flames.

OOC:
I suppose the daemonic beings, depending on whether they reside in Elsa’s head or observe her from outside, could interrupt Elsa at any time. This post is a statement of intent—that is to say, Elsa intends to do all the above if nobody stops her.

Some meta commentary…
It’s a tale as old as time. Well-intentioned person seeks power to do good deeds, becomes corrupted by power, ultimately uses power to do evil deeds.

It’s a good tale. Just not the tale I want for Elsa.

As a player, I was tempted. The themes of corruption and slippery slopes loom large in the Warhammer-verse. But if it’s not too late, I would like to tell another tale: the tale of someone who walks over to the edge of the abyss, looks down, then decisively takes a step back. The Savonne fire and the death of Morrslieb, both very avoidable disasters that lie squarely on Elsa’s shoulders, seem like perfect catalysts for the realization that it is time for her to take responsibility for her actions and that more magical muscle is not necessarily the key to everything. Not to mention that Nahorek is not as powerful as she had been led to believe.

Another, more pragmatic consideration is that I struggle to think of how Elsa could possibly prepare and perform the daemon-summoning ritual without the knowledge of the other PCs, and how she could retain their friendship and trust once her willingness to make deals with daemons comes to light. The consequences of obeying the daemonic beings would tear the party apart and ultimately hinder more than help us.

Lastly, I feel Elsa was being a bit forced down this path, and I think it would fit her contrarian nature to refuse to play ball.

Being out of Fate Points, I am well aware that this decision is a potentially deadly one, and I accept this. In any case, Elsa is nearing the end of her PC lifespan, so any benefit derived from selling her soul is unlikely to pay off in the long run. I would much rather that she die making a stand for herself.

Well… actually, I would much rather that she live making a stand for herself. I’m hoping that’s still on the table.

LCP

2019-12-12, 10:59 PM

Elsa, 17th Nachgeheim

For a moment after she tossed it into the fire, the flames licking the book burned pink and blue, like the alchemical powders they had tried to teach her about at the College. The effect lasted only for a moment, before whatever residue had caused it burned away, and the fire regained its usual hue - but when Elsa closed her eyes, the fading after-image it had left behind seemed to form the outline of a raven's skull.

No answer to her words crawled out of the Aethyr. No scrape of iron nails or stink of charred flesh assailed her senses. Alone in her chamber, she sat in silence and watched the pages burn.

OOC: It's completely up to you what direction to take with Elsa - you don't have to justify your decisions to me.

To give a bit of meta-commentary of my own, I'm not trying to give you just a singular choice; I'm trying to show the tightrope Elsa is walking all the time as a renegade, half-schooled wizard. So you can be sure these dangers and temptations won't go away just because Elsa said 'no' - but at the same time, it's your call how to respond to them, and I'm never going to have a preferred story to tell with Elsa. Your character is your character.

-Sentinel-

2019-12-12, 11:55 PM

Elsa

Elsa felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders, though there was still fear at the back of her mind. It could not possibly be that simple, could it? Just refuse them? Surely they would return?

But it was not as if she could undo what she had done. The grimoire was burnt. And there was some comfort in having crossed the point of no return. One less decision to make. No way to go but forward, for better or worse.

For the first time in a very long while, she knelt and prayed to Sigmar. Asking for a god's assistance was a bit of a contradiction with the ideas she had expressed both at the Conclave and in her letter, but she felt it could not hurt. She did not wish for divine intervention; she just wanted strength for herself. When she was done praying, she returned to her bed. She needed some sleep.

The letter remained on her nightstand. Someday it might still need to be read.

OOC: I'm done.

-Sentinel-

2019-12-14, 12:13 PM

On the day of the return of Sieghard and Ludo, Elsa decided to give Morrslieb a proper sendoff. She did not have a body to bury, but bought a freshly-killed (?) pigeon from a bonepicker to serve as a replacement. She gathered only her closest friends, as she knew that holding a wake for a raven would only make her seem even weirder to most people.

Unfortunately Elsa does not yet count Urgrim among her "closest friends", merely as her group's contact among the dwarfs. They haven't yet explored any daemon-infested libraries together.

She built a campfire outside of town, and brought the dead pigeon in a wooden box. She started with a speech:

"I have not always been as good of a friend to you as I should have been, Morrslieb.

My employer saw you merely as a useful tool; a means to an end. And out of obedience I often treated you as such. I sent you into life-threatening situations. I rewarded you with treats and trinkets, not with affection or genuine gratefulness. I never made a meaningful personal sacrifice for you; mostly because I was never really sure what a raven might expect of a human. Even the name I gave you, Morrslieb, was a bit of a joke. I thought it would shock people that I named you after the Chaos moon. Nobody seemed to care.

Now that you're gone, I realize a part of myself is gone, too. The part that I poured into you. And there was a lot of you in me. I like to think that your surly, argumentative side came from me. Or perhaps I'm just flattering myself? Perhaps it was always you, and our similarities are how I knew there was a connection between us when I first met you in the swamps? I've sometimes wondered... how did it feel like for you, to become a sentient being? To become a person? Did you see yourself as having become something more than you were? Or did you feel that something was taken from you, like ignorant bliss or freedom? Did you even notice the difference, or did it just feel like growing up from a freshly hatched chick to an adult?

It's too late to ask these questions.

My employer expects me to replace you. You could never be replaced. I could find some other familiar that can do much of what you could do, but it would not be a replacement. Not really. This is not something I could make the Captain understand.

In any case... it took me a while to realize it, but you gave me a sense that I created something. Me, someone whose art is dedicated to destruction... I created something. And it feels... good. I want to create again. And if any would destroy what I create, I will destroy them first. Even a raven can understand that, I'm sure. Creating, and protecting what you create, is one of nature's most fundamental instincts.

The swamps where you lived and died are a place teeming with life. I will make sure they will remain so. That's the only thing I can do for you now; fight the dead so that your watery grave does not go dry.

Thank you, and farewell."

She dropped the wooden box into the campfire, where it was soon consumed by the flames.

LCP

2019-12-14, 01:19 PM

Ludo & Sieghard, 18th Nachgeheim

While Sieghard had been digging up his buried treasure, Rahim had been buzzing around the town like an angry hornet, gathering Abdul’s supplies for the coronation. With amazing speed, the carts filled with fruit, vegetables, meat and wine. One of the Thorns who had marched with them tried to pocket an apple before the hawk-eyed Rahim slapped it out of his hand.

Cracks were showing in the Arabyan’s usual disinterested demeanour. Avoiding Ravenskird had cost them time, and now they had two days to cover the sixty miles or more back to the city. It didn’t take a mathematical genius to see that the numbers didn’t add up, and Rahim was clearly itching to be on the road again.

Backertag, 19th Nachgeheim - Savonne

The reconsecration of the Temple was a solemn affair, but it did Adelbert’s heart good to see the various priests of the Conclave working together without bickering. Brother Cezar led them in a circuit of the Garden of Morr, sprinkling the boundary of the Temple grounds with blessed water while the priests behind him carried symbols of each of their gods.

When the circle was complete, they descended to the sanctuary. There, in the sight of the Temple’s relics, they made their offerings to the gods: candles for Verena, hides and grain for Taal and Rhya, a pitcher of river water for Azriller. Incanting a Classical prayer to Morr, Hieronymus took a knife from one of the initiates and sliced the palm of his withered hand, squeezing a few drops of blood into a silver bowl upon the altar. As the assembled priests bowed their heads in prayer, Adelbert thought he felt the ancient walls breathe again - a breath they had been holding since Geheimnisnacht.

That afternoon, Cezar wrote a letter to the Morrite orders in the north, entrusting it to one of the older initiates to carry. Approachable where Raqiyah had been distant, kindly where Liebrecht had been stern, Cezar was growing into the position of master of initiates as if he had been born to it. He already had a message from Petre and Nastassa in Alvarran: after dinner, he sought out Adelbert to read it.

Father Schreiber, Brother Cezar,

It has taken us some time, but we have traced the location of Duke Alvarr’s body. After the city fell, most of the dead were buried in pits outside the walls, next to Alvarran’s Garden of Morr. Brother Berthold, who was sexton to Father Vengist before the reverend father passed away, keeps the garden here now, and showed us the graves where he claims to have buried the Duke and the commander of the Storm Swords. They are unmarked, but he has shown us this ring which he claims belonged to the Duke.

Brother Berthold appears a little simple, so we have spoken the Unnamed Rite over all the graves in case it was not performed properly the first time. We remain in Alvarran and await your instructions.

Petre

Cezar clucked his tongue. “I'll have to have a word with this one when he gets back,” he said. “We can’t have our initiates referring to their brothers as ‘simple’.”

Adelbert’s attention was more on the ring that had been enclosed with the letter. A signet bearing the device of a boar’s head, it was one he had seen often enough on Alvarr’s own hand. Though it was now dirty and tarnished, there was no doubting it was the same ring.

Konigstag, 21st Nachgeheim

Preparations had been going on all week for the coronation, and as dawn broke on Konigstag the anticipation had reached fever pitch. Every inn was packed with visitors from out of town, and the streets around the North Market were decked with gaily-coloured flags. Some of the local street vendors had even got in on the action, selling flags on sticks bearing a crude imitation of the Iron Company’s crossed-pikes banner. They didn’t seem to be selling particularly fast.

It was around noon when Sieghard and Ludo arrived back at the river gate, Rahim having driven the mules almost to exhaustion to get back on time. Abdul was waiting for him in the courtyard of the keep, already dressed in his finery for the ceremony - the two Arabyans had a brief, fierce argument in their own language, during which Rahim pointed repeatedly at Sieghard. Waving Rahim’s words aside, Abdul shooed him off in the direction of the kitchens, the poor mules dragging their loaded carts the last few yards before they could finally rest.

“Friends!” said Abdul, spreading his hands and greeting Sieghard and Ludo with his usual toothy smile. “This is what you call ‘cutting it fine’, yes?” He looked them up and down, noting how they were covered in the dust of the road. “This is the Lady Sforza’s big day. If you’re planning to attend the ceremony, best to wash and find some new clothes as fast as you can. She will remember if you don’t.”

Even the jovial quartermaster seemed on edge.

OOC: All the PCs are welcome to attend the coronation - if they want to. Adelbert will know that Hieronymus is taking part in his new capacity as High Priest and that most of the priests are planning to attend. Urgrim will know that the Rinn and some of the high-ranking Dwimmulsons are attending too.

RossN

2019-12-14, 08:34 PM

Adelbert

'Yes, of course,' a distracted Adelbert replied to Brother Cezar. 'You can write to them recalling them.'

He looked at the ring, turning it over and over again in his hand. Such a small thing to be all that remained in these lands of such a man. Well that was it... or was it? Was this a sign? He knew so little about the Duke's background. For all he knew there was an heir out there that he was meant to pass on the ring...

Adelbert took a deep breath and whispered a prayer to Verena...

OOC:
Channeling: [roll0] vs 63

The Past Revealed (8): [roll1][roll2]

Konigstag, 21st Nachgeheim

He'd never presided over the funeral to a bird before. It was a strange experience, made all the stranger by Elsa's pain and grief. Though Adelbert could not quite agree with all her sentiments he could offer what support he could, laying a hand on her shoulder as she finished speaking.

'Ravens are sacred to Morr. Most think that is because Morr is lord of the dead, but that is not the full truth of things. Morr is the god of dreams, of that strange and secret world where our minds wing their way too every night when we close our eyes. A world of shadows, of ideas... of magic. That is where Morrslieb came from Elsa and that is where he now resides in our dreams. Somewhere he still beats his wings Elsa and soars still beyond the reach of petty princes and undead convinced they can find immortality by shackling their own souls.'

He bowed his head and softly spoke a prayer.

Once the funeral was over he very slowly walked back to the Temple. Adelbert had already sternly informed the other priests he had no intention of attending the coronation - 'Quiet frankly Father Hieronymus I'd sooner bathe an ogre than witness the Tilean and his wife publicly applaud themselves'. Instead he intended to go to his quarters, bolt the door to block out the noise and get a very early night's sleep.

-Sentinel-

2019-12-14, 11:26 PM

After the funeral, Elsa headed to her quarters, washed herself with a washcloth (like most pyromancers, she disliked baths) and put on her military-looking black-and-red outfit in preparation for the coronation. With her still-short hair, she looked very serious and austere, which fitted her somber mood.

She was about to witness a new page being turned in the history of the Reaches. How many lords of the Border Princes had laid claim to so much territory at any one time? And yet she found little pride or joy in being so close to power. She no longer had the ambition she used to have. If she could, she would find a quiet place to live out a relatively independent life, as Beatrix Fassbender had done. But she could not afford that luxury. Not with the Reaches threatened by Nahorek. She had to stay near the top, so that she could help steer the Reaches in the right direction.

She hated politics. But it seemed that much depended on her becoming good at it, because most rulers were fools and could not be left without counsel for even a minute.

TheSummoner

2019-12-15, 04:03 AM

Sieghard

"I'll be quick about it," Sieghard replied. "All this with half the city homeless or starving," he muttered. He doubted it would do anything to improve the way the city felt about its new rulers.

LeSwordfish

2019-12-15, 12:54 PM

Ludo had found the time to drop in on the funeral for Morrslieb. He had never entirely understood the nature of Elsa's bond with the bird, but grief was grief. He had bought Stoutheart not long after his mother's death, as Elsa had acquired Morrslieb after the death of Beatrix, and would have been devastated by the terrier's death. He had said some vague platitudes that even he didn't remember, and had added the idea that, without the bird, they would all have died a few times over.

What he hadn't mentioned was that Morrslieb's death felt like a bad omen. It, and the hard journey, had completely dispelled any lingering confidence he had after the vampire had been driven off. The coronation didn't sound like fun, per se, but he would have felt bad for missing it, so after the fastest and least luxurious bath of his life he had presented himself at the castle with Sieghard, in the neatest uniform he could contrive.

LCP

2019-12-15, 05:05 PM

Adelbert Only, 19th Nachgeheim

Feeling the cold metal of the ring in his palm, Adelbert reached out to his goddess - and somewhere deep in his heart, he felt Verena reach back. The divine spark of knowledge passed into him, and he saw...

...a craftsman in Bretonnia, his eye looming hugely through the jeweller's loupe he wore as he carved the boar's head device into the polished lump of chalcedony set into the ring's bezel. A man in nobleman's clothing stood behind him, inspecting his work. He was not the Duke, but Alvarr thought he saw some vague family resemblance. By the accent of the two men when they spoke, Adelbert would have placed them somewhere in the south of Bretonnia - perhaps Quenelles or Brionne.

Finishing his work, the jeweller sat back in his chair and showed the ring to his lord. The nobleman seemed pleased as he held it up to the light. He motioned to a servant, who began counting out gold pieces onto the jeweller's bench as his master strolled out of the shop.

~

...a crumbling house by the sea, the piercing cries of gulls drifting through its open windows. An man with a grey beard and a bedraggled moustache lay in a filthy bed, his chest rising and falling with labouring breaths. At the foot of the bed, a girl of nine or ten was watching the old man breathe his last; by its side, a boy of about sixteen held the invalid's hand in his own. Young though he was, the boy's stern brown eyes were undoubtedly those of Edouard Alvarr.

Sitting up with a supreme effort, the dying man pressed the ring into the boy's hand, whispering something to him in Bretonnian before collapsing back onto the bed. As he exhaled his last, rattling breath, the boy's hand tightened to a white-knuckle grip around the boar's head signet.

~

...the ring leaving an imprint on a blob of molten wax as it sealed a letter. The hand that wore it handed it to another - Adelbert recognised the stubborn face of Eugen Jager. He was looking lean and battle-scarred, more so than the last time Adelbert had seen him. So was the Duke.

Jager was arguing, protesting that his place was on the walls, that Alvarr could find another messenger. Alvarr refused his requests. He was to carry his master's message out of the city, and that was an order. The Duke didn't raise his voice - though his manner remained as firm as Adelbert remembered, in his eyes he looked tired and defeated.

Their conversation was interrupted by a distant, bassy rumble - the sound of the collapse of the curtain wall. Reaching for his sword, the Duke sharply repeated his order for Jager to go. Saluting his lord one last time, Alvarr's Bulldog turned and headed for the stairs...

21st Nachgeheim - The Coronation

The gates of the castle stood open, and a steady stream of guests was passing through - at least, those that passed the inspection of the Iron Company guards. The merchants, the guilders, the priests and the landlords of the Reaches flowed through the open gates, while the tradesmen, the boatmen, the beggars and rat-catchers stayed locked outside the high walls. In the great hall of the keep, constellations of candles were twinkling in the iron chandeliers, casting a soft light over this gathering of the great, the good, and the reasonably alright. Sforza’s banner hung from every wall - they must have kept every seamstress in the city stitching for weeks to make so many.

Up on the dais at the head of the hall, Hieronymus stood beside two empty thrones, dressed in his best priestly regalia. In the place of honour at the front of the crowd below were Sforza’s officers; they were flanked on their left by the other priests of the Temple, and on the right by the handful of Dwimmulsons who had descended from the Rock. Elmendrin was there, in a deep blue dress with golden knotwork around the hem and a mantle of fine grey wool. Of all the aspiring courtiers and hangers-on in the hall, she was the one who looked the most like real nobility.

Behind these guests of honours stood dozens of others. Sieghard didn’t recognise most of them, but there were a few faces he did. There on the left was Steffan Sussman, shaking hands and talking animatedly with a portly stranger in merchant’s attire. There on the right was Leona Groz, holding her infant son. Behind her were a pack of men he recognised as the Putbad guilders - though he could see no sign of Guildmaster Tobar.

“They are all here, hm?” said Abdul, slipping into place beside Sieghard. Wearing a jacket of green and gold, the Arabyan was looking just as fine as the others. “Like the small fish that follow the shark. They smell opportunity in the water.” He inhaled a deep breath. “Lands and titles, oh yes. It is a great thing, the generosity of a prince.”

Before he continue his musings, a brassy fanfare rose from the minstrels in the gallery. Every head turned as the Captain and his wife entered the hall, the crowd parting to let them through.

The Sforzas practically glittered in the candlelight, the richness of their attire putting their guests to shame. The minstrels played a stately tune as the two of them proceeded to the dais, bowing their heads to Hieronymus before turning to face the crowd. A hush fell over the hall, broken only by Hieronymus clearing his throat. Making the sign of Verena over his breast, he uttered a brief prayer in Classical for the gods to bless their proceedings. He wasn’t very good at projecting his voice: those at the back of the cavernous hall had to strain to hear what he was saying.

“O gods,” he mumbled, when the blessing was complete. “We beseech thee, sanctify your servant, our prince. Morr grant him foresight, Verena, grant him wisdom. Taal, grant him strength, Rhya, grant him children. Shallya, grant him compassion, Azriller, grant him plenty.” Hieronymus hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking to the front row where Barbaro was subtly spinning his finger to indicate he should go faster. “Myrmidia, grant him victory, enrich his heart with your abundant grace, and crown him with all princely virtues, as we crown him here today.”

Turning behind him, he picked up the crown and held it high for all to see. New-made and unblemished, it shone in the candle-light, polished rubies from the Rock glinting like drops of blood. Artisans in Rockshadow had been labouring over it day and night since Sforza’s return: it looked every inch the crown of a king.

Hieronymus handed it over to Sforza, who held it high in both hands before slowly lowering it onto his own head. A smaller, more elegant crown was then produced for Irene, who bowed her head to allow her husband to crown her too. She had retained an expression of serene grace up until this point in this ceremony, but as she turned her face to the floor, Elsa could see an irrepressible smile spreading across her face.

Irene straightened up again, unable to keep herself from beaming as brightly as the crown glittering on her head. Muzio took her hand, and as the two of them took their seats on the twin thrones, Carraciolo turned and addressed the hall with the voice he used to carry across battlefields.

“The glorious and august Prince Muzio Sforza is crowned and enthroned. Viva il Principe! Viva la Principessa!”

Along the back of the hall, a line of Iron Company men thundered their approval, so loud that they almost drowned out the others who joined in the shout.

VIVA IL PRINCIPE! VIVA LA PRINCIPESSA!

As the castle rang with their praises, Elsa could have sworn Irene Sforza had tears of happiness in her eyes.

~

When the ceremony was finished, the newly-crowned Prince and Princess of the Reaches proceeded to the castle walls, where a far larger crowd of the common people was waiting below. Hundreds of hungry, wary eyes looked up at them, the golden circles on their brows catching the light of the setting sun as the Captain - the Prince - stepped forward.

“People of Savonne!” he declaimed, his voice ringing out over the rooftops. “My people! They called this land the Broken Reaches. War-torn, fractured, divided. No more!” Putting his arm around Irene, he drew her forward. “The days of blood are over. You have one prince now, one princess - one Reaches. Let the days of peace begin!”

The gates swung open again, and Iron Company men came marching out, dragging with them wagons loaded with food and drink. It was cheap fare, but as the soldiers began to throw bread and fruit into the crowd, they went wild with cheers for their new rulers. The Sforzas waved graciously from atop the battlements as the crowd surged forwards, the soldiers having to hold them back to keep themselves from being overwhelmed. A few scuffles broke out towards the back - as long as they didn’t threaten to upset the carts, the Prince’s men didn’t intervene.

Back inside the keep, a much more lavish feast had been laid out. Wine flowed, candles burned and minstrels played, bidding goodbye to the summer in grand style. A great patch of the floor was cleared for dancing, and as the band struck up the opening notes of a volta, the Sforzas led the first dance.

However much she detested her, Elsa had to admit that Irene could dance. Elsa had been to a few balls in Altdorf, when her parents had still been trying to find her a suitable match - dull, interminable things, full of gangly, nervous boys treading on her feet. This was different. A graceful whirl of emerald silks and satins, Irene moved so swiftly in time with the music that her husband had to fight to keep up. The assembled onlookers clapped and cheered, the pure, unadulterated happiness that shone from the new Princess’ face seeming infectious. She had got the thing she’d wanted all her life, and she was dancing with the man who had given it to her. Despite the hundreds of eyes that watched them, the two of them seemed to have eyes only for each other.

Once the first tune was over, another began, and more and more couples began joining the dance. Plenty of the merchants who had wangled their way into the ceremony had brought their daughters, and Carraciolo was dancing with a succession of them. Others were making eyes at Sieghard from a corner by the dais, whispering to one another and giggling behind their hands.

Valdes, returned from Alvarran, seemed to be refraining from dancing for now, standing on the sidelines and looking into the depths of his cup. The dwarfs, too, had no time for dancing: Elmendrin sat politely and watched while Skorgrund downed drink after drink, opining at length on the defects of each new umgi draught he tried. Urgrim was sitting with them when a perspiring Irene emerged from the dancers and greeted them.

“Rinn Elmendrin,” she said, “it makes me so glad to see you here. Thank you so much for coming.”
“It’s our pleasure… Principessa?” said Elmendrin, having some difficulty with the unfamiliar Tilean word. “Is that right?”
“It is!” Irene grinned back, her dazzling smile seeming almost to split her face in two. “Will you not dance with us?”

“I’m afraid we Dwimmulsons aren’t much for human dancing,” said Elmendrin, the model of diplomacy. “But it is very entertaining to watch.”
“You will have to show us a dwarfish dance one day,” said Irene. “One day soon! You will always be welcome here at the castle - I hope we will see you here often.”
Before she could press the matter any further, another dance began, and her husband gathered her back onto the floor. Belching, Skorgrund glowered after their receding backs over the top of his tankard.

“I suppose you like this kind of thing, eh Jotunnssson?” he said. “Umgi music. Sounds like someone torturing a cat to me.”

OOC: Food and drink at the coronation feast is of course free - if you think your character would get drunk, feel free to decide for yourself how much drink they avail themselves of and whether they need to make any tests.

The Temple

With most of the senior priests up at the castle, the Temple felt almost deserted. Sitting in his cell room, reading idly through one of Hieronymus’ books for the third or fourth time, Adelbert was deep in thought about how much he hoped the others weren’t enjoying themselves when he heard a knock at the door. It was Jocasta.

“They’re giving out wine at the castle gate,” she said, holding up a small bottle. “Do you want any?”