[WFRP] The Bloody Crown XIII

[LCP]

Sieghard, 29th Kaldezeit

Rhadegund’s look of confusion and distress only deepened. “Vampire? What… the thing brother Schreiber was always… no, no, you’re wrong.” Getting up, she backed away from the table. “You’re wrong!”

Turning on her heel, she ran for the kitchen. As the door banged behind her, Karolina poked her head out from where she had been cleaning up after the night’s guests.

“You alright there, sir?” she said, seeing where Sieghard was sitting. “Hope you haven’t been upsetting our girl.”

---

33rd Kaldezeit

Urgrim

The cheers died down as Elmendrin climbed up on a chair, holding her hands out for quiet. She was not particularly dressed for the occasion, but she still had a way about her of commanding the hall. Urgrim noticed that Skorgrund had found his way to her side.

“Dwimmulsons!” she called out. “The warriors we sent south with the umgi prince have returned.” She paused for effect. “Varag Kol is dead!”

The cheers returned at deafening volume. “The manlings drove zonbrynaz through his black heart!” bellowed Grunlok over the din.

Waiting for the noise to subside again, Elmendrin continued. “One of the oldest grudges of our clan has been settled. And soon, the blade that settled it will be back within these walls. The work of our ancestors will be restored to us.” The assembled dwarfs hammered their tankards against the long tables in approval. “For tonight, though, we celebrate. A wrong put right!”

The whole clan shouted the words back - or at least, as many of them as had crammed into the crowded hall. Elmendrin stepped back down off the chair, and the drinking began in earnest.

After a short while, Urgrim heard a disturbance in the crowd behind him, and looked round to see the Rinn approaching, with Grunlok and Berki in tow. “Master Jotunnsson,” she said. “I believe some thanks are in order.” Grunlok slapped him on the shoulder and passed him a fresh tankard of beer. “We are honoured to call you a friend of our clan.”

“Not only did he put a quarrel in the zangunaz,” said Berki, “it’s only his hewing-day too!”

“Drinks for the birthday beardling!” roared Grunlok, turning around and coming back with two more tankards in each hand. He slammed them down on the table and then turned back for another three. “One for each decade! Come on now, drink up!”

~

Sieghard

“Don’t worry, commander” said Cezar, turning the scroll over in his hands. “We’ve handled such things before.”

He paused, something clearly weighing on him. “...It’s all true, then?” he said at last. “The Jackal. He’s really gone?”