[WFRP] The Bloody Crown X

[LCP]

Elsa

As Sieghard's soldiers escorted the priests back to the Temple, Elsa made a beeline for the quarantine district. Coming to a halt at the crossing where Astoria had been found, she looked down each street in turn. It was a lot of houses to check.

The shadow that hung over Savonne was thick here, as she had felt every night since she'd started sleeping at Adelbert's lodgings on Half Moon Alley - but it was just that, a shadow, not a beacon in the dark. She paced the length of Half Moon Alley, then started down Tower Street, stopping in front of every door as she strained to see the things that danced on the edge of her sight. By the time the sun had sunk below the level of the jumbled rooftops, she was still none the wiser.

"You looking for something, miss?" said a craftsman on his way home from his workshop, a leather bag of tools slung over his shoulder. "You were looking a bit lost there."

---

Not Elsa

Outside the temple, Jocasta tried her best to press the people of Gods' Row for anyone who had witnessed Balios' morning excursion. A country woman by her manner and voice, she had difficulty getting anyone to pay much heed.

"I'll make sure she stays within the temple walls tonight," Hieronymus said to Adelbert, looking worriedly out over the darkening streets. "But... do send word as soon as you find him." He paused, swallowing an unpleasant truth. "If you do."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard glared at Jocasta. "If Balios is in danger, it is because Klammenberg has him. If we find one, we find both."

---

"This is taking too long," he told Adelbert back at the temple. "I'm taking my men and going after Elsa. She's one woman. Magic or not she can't cover the whole area on her own."

Spoiler

Show

Sieghard will head to the center of the quarantine area with half of his men and knock on doors until someone answers. Assuming he doesnt stumble across her on his own, he'll have the other half find Elsa, then report back so we can regroup.

He'll ask the people who answer first if they've seen Klammenberg (showing the poster) or Balios, then assuming they haven't, for information about who lives in the surrounding houses. Families, single men, no one at all? And how well do they know the people who live there?

[-Sentinel-]

"You looking for something, miss?" said a craftsman on his way home from his workshop, a leather bag of tools slung over his shoulder. "You were looking a bit lost there."

"Hmm? Oh, my cat," said Elsa, having prepared that excuse just in case someone found her behavior odd. "I'm sure she'll turn up eventually." She briefly met the man's gaze, just to make sure he was who he seemed to be, and smiled innocently.

The sun was getting low. Soon, creatures that feared the light would start coming out. Perhaps it was best not to be alone in these streets. As she walked away, she mulled upon her fruitless search. Was she completely mistaken about the area she should have searched? Did she grossly overestimate the amount of residual magic their mysterious undead foe would leave behind? Was there magic capable of concealing other magic? Was this entire neighborhood some kind of giant bait to waste the time of the Captain's wizard?

On the way back, Elsa came upon Sieghard and his men. "Nothing useful," she reported in a half defeated tone. "The entire area is shrouded in dark magic, but it doesn't point me anywhere specific."


OOC

Spoiler

Show

As I said IC, I think it's preferable to pick locks rather than kick down doors. We don't have enough certainty, and while property damage would be easily forgiven if we find what we seek, failure would make us look like not only thugs but incompetent ones. I'd rather be just one or the other, or preferably neither.

[LeSwordfish]

"Let me help." Ludo said, reaching up to put a comforting hand on Jocasta's elbow. "I can ask around." Johan had just jogged up, and took the instruction to return to the castle and fetch another dozen or so of the militia with thinly-veiled despair. After watching him go, Ludo turned and moved off into the people on the streets, asking for information on Balios rather more smoothly than Jocasta had been able to.

OOC

Spoiler

Show

Gossip vs 62: (1d100)[29]

Charm for Jocasta to persuade her to go inside: (1d100)[30] vs 72

[RossN]

Adelbert

'I'll send word Father,' Adelbert promised, anxiously watching until he was sure the two senior priests were actually inside the Temple before moving to join Ludo.

[LCP]

Ludo & Adelbert

It was late in the day to be asking who had passed that way in the morning, but Ludo was nothing if not adept at sniffing out a story. Overhearing his loud questions, a street-corner beggar volunteered that he had seen someone matching Balios' description, talking to a man he had taken for another beggar. The man had told Balios something that seemed to concern him, he said - he had seen the two of them take off together, heading in the direction of the river. There wasn't much difference between that and the direction of the quarantine district, Ludo noted.

Ludo's copy of the Klammenberg poster - by now somewhat creased and dog-eared - didn't seem to spark any recognition in their witness' eyes. Smacking his red-stained gums, the man shook his head.

"I mean... I din't get a good look at 'im, but 'e weren't dressed sharp like that man in yer picture," he said. "Jes' a ratty old cloak and hat. I don't think he had a beard?" He sounded uncertain. "Looked like another feller on the beg, but I ain't seen him on this pitch before."

---

Sieghard & Elsa

The arrival of Sieghard and his troop soon cleared the evening crowd off Tower Street, or at least the part of it that they were on. Beginning the slow process of going door to door, they worked their way up from the south end as the sun sank below the horizon. There were a lot of doors on which to knock.

Most of the denizens of the Old Town would open their doors if the militia hammered on them long and loud enough, though many seemed more than a little reluctant - the people of Savonne had had more than enough recent experience of soldiers at the door. They shook their heads and mumbled at Sieghard's questions, wanting nothing to do with whatever trouble was brewing - but at one house, his description of Balios did ring a bell.

"Aye, I saw a man like that this morning," said the woman at the door, a seamstress in her middle years. "Taalite? With the stick with the antlers and all. He went down Sundial Passage with some ragamuffin." She pointed up the street, to where a tiny back-alley led off behind the old minaret that gave Tower Street its name. "Don't usually see that lot in town."

[LeSwordfish]

"Was he wearing, um, bandages?" Ludo asked, gesturing at his face. "How tall was he?"

[LCP]

Ludo & Adelbert

"'Bout his height," said the beggar, pointing to Adelbert. "I didn't see no bandages."

[RossN]

Adelbert

'If I turn out to be the villain I'll have to congratulate myself on disguising myself from myself,' commented Adelbert dryly. He glanced at Ludo and gestured in the direction of the quarantine district. 'Time to rejoin our friends?'

[LeSwordfish]

Ludo nodded, watching the reinforcements he'd asked for arrive, a tired Johan leading the way. "The militia can guard the temple, we can help better with the investigations."

[LCP]

Urgrim

High above the others and their struggles, Urgrim was making his way down from the Dwimmulhold gates into the interior of the Rock. The deep halls were already growing stuffy from the heat and smoke of the lamps by the time he arrived, his own humble contribution to the Saga tale-telling tucked into his waistcoat. Almost every member of the clan was packed into the Dwimmulsons’ humble feast-hall, and the ale was already flowing. At the head table, the Rinn held court in a splendid gown of red, blue and gold, the rest of the clan elders gathered around her.

A limestone figure of Grimnir had been set up in the centre of the hall, a small wooden dais before it. The first food of the feast began to be carried out, and a hush fell over the assembled dwarfs as Skorgrund creakily ascended the dais. He noisily cleared his throat, and set his heavy book down before him.

“Clansfolk!” he began, his rough voice resounding from the walls. “Clan friends. We have all paid a heavy price to be here tonight. The first Saga since we have returned to our home!”

The Dwimmulsons thumped their tankards against the tables and cheered. Skorgrund held up his wrinkled hands for quiet.

“Six years ago we left our hold. Six years ago we let the manlings know that we would suffer no preening elf to call himself king in the low town.” He thumped his fist against the cover of his book. “We kept our word! The elf is gone, his faithless followers have been cast down, and Clan Dwimmulson have returned to the Rock!”

This time the cheer was deafening. Turning, Skorgrund gestured stiffly up at the statue of the ancestor god behind him.

“Tonight, in Grimnir’s sight, we will honour those who sacrificed the most to bring us back home. Their names are carved in the stone of our hearts, and we will remember them.” He raised his hands. “So in the name of the ancestors, let us drink!”

The whole hall echoed the elder’s words, then set to fulfilling them with a will. With Skorgrund having retired to the high table, dwarf after dwarf climbed the dais to recount tales of bravery from the siege, or their self-imposed Uplands exile. The Dwimmulsons had certainly taken their share of losses in the war against Belehir - watching the procession of tale-tellers come and go, Urgrim reckoned they had enough real fighters among them to match at most one of Sforza’s regiments.

Of course, a handful of dwarfs could have held the Dwimmulhold against an army - provided they had the supplies to last. Watching the cooks wheel out platter after platter of food from the low town markets, Urgrim suspected that the Dwimmulsons were not quite so above the concerns of the human city as they liked to make out.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard nodded and then placed a schilling in the woman's hand. "For your help," he said before heading up the street she had indicated.

Spoiler

Show

If there's any people on the street, Sieghard will ask after Balios again to try to find where Klammenberg took him from there. Presumably anyone who saw him was affected by Klammenberg's illusion, but it's been shown not to be foolproof.

[LCP]

Non-Urgrims

Sundial Passage led east off Tower Street, towards Red Square. The houses here were old and somewhat dilapidated, some of their doors still marked with the faded chalk crosses of the plague.

No-one was abroad on the street, itself scarcely wide enough for the open gutter that ran down its centre. A flutter of wings from overhead made Sieghard look sharply up, but it was only the bats leaving the tower.

From the back of the line of halberdiers behind him, Sieghard got word of new arrivals: Ludo and Adelbert, returning from the temple.

[LeSwordfish]

"Balios came this way with another man." Ludo said. "About Adelbert's height, dressed like a beggar. Didn't sound like Klammenberg or Udolf."

"Are we ready to start kicking doors in, now?"

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"Wouldn't surprise me if Klammenberg is disguising himself now," Sieghard said."Everyone in town knows what he looks like. Of course he'd make himself look different. Damn posters..."

He looked up at the tower. "Seems a good a place as any to start." He stepped forward and reached for the door, but then stopped. "Hildebrand," Sieghard began, "That alarm spell of yours... Is it possible that Klammenberg could know how to do that as well?"

Spoiler

Show

I'll save kicking for if quieter methods fail. Maybe I'm paranoid with the magic alarm thing, but if I was a magical criminal, I'd be using that sort of spell to tip me off to anyone poking aroun dmy hideout. We'll have Elsa sense the door, then if she finds something try to dispel it, then Sieghard will try the door, then if it's locked, we'll either have Ludo pick it or if you're concerned about time just skip to kicking it down.

[Thragka]

Urgrim

Urgrim barely touched the food on offer as the procession of dwarfs recounted their tales, only sipping on half a cup of beer to still his nerves. With the demands and stresses of the hunt for Klammenberg in the low town, his attempts at drafting what he thought of as The Lay of Thrunrik were nowhere near as advanced as he'd hoped. He could not yet tell a full tale that he felt would honour the old ranger's memory. But this was Saga, a time for recounting of old heroes. He remembered the celebrations of his youth in Barak Varr, and how his heart and mind soared to hear the ancient epics recounted then. Ideals of honour and adventure and artistry were all bound up in the knots of memory and nostalgia in his head. He had created some little art for this night, and it was an account that lived in being heard. Even if not finished, it were even more cowardly not to offer it up to the hold at all.

As the buzz around the dais settled, and a pregnant silence asked the hall if there were any more waiting to speak, Urgi pushed himself to his feet and climbed to the wooden platform. He looked out at these people that he did not really know, and who did not know him, and wondered if he were a complete fool. He took a deep breath, and the motion of his chest made the opal talisman of Valaya shift in his pocket. He recognised the sensation, and clung to it. Looking out at the sea of expectant eyes, he could not have explained why he was here, why he deserved to be, or what he hoped to give to these people. He thought of his mother, imagined her in the crowd, smiling up at him. He slammed his eyes shut and balled his fists, and suddenly could not help but count the digits of each hand. Lokri. Vardin. Skargan. Baragil. Thrunrik..

He took a deep breath.

He shouted.

"Wyrd bið ful aræd!"¹

Would they recognise the Old Khazalid? In Barak Varr, many knew at least enough of ancient sagas to recognise the most popular verses. Too late; he was going now. And already, he felt more comfortable, for he was well practised as a rorkaz in deafeningly enunciating the archaic syllables. Each word stood alone; he spat and roared every syllable slowly and completely.

"Swa cwæð eardstapa,
earfeþa gemyndig,
wraþra wælsleahta,
winemæga hryre."²

Urgrim opened his eyes. The scene was set. He launched into the recital he had prepared in modern Khazalid.

Spoiler: THE LAY OF THRUNRIK, part I - spoilered for length

Show

"So. The Spear-Dawi in days gone by
And the kings who ruled them had courage and greatness.
We have heard of those princes’ heroic campaigns.

Dwimmul hight³ a dawi!, scourge of many tribes,
A wrecker of pump-wagons, rampaging among urki.
This terror of the grobi had come far.
An outcast of the mountains, he would flourish later on
As his powers waxed and his worth was proved.
In the end each clan in the outlying peaks
Beyond the sand-road had to yield to him
And begin to pay tribute. That was one good king!

So. Times were pleasant for his people then,
When the umgi of the lowlands were upright clan-friends.
We swore oaths by the banks of the river Azril:
Oaths of war on the elgi, and grobi, and thaggoraki
Whom we cleared from the land, the forest and the hills;
And then oaths of peace. Our trade made us wealthy
And together we built three great cities on the plains.
Zhufund, where Dwimmul's sons would after remain,
Zaraz Irkul, cut of the living rock
So even the umgi could not be sun-touched
And far Yar Urbaz, beyond the Giant's Teeth.
We had no need of mountain-clans. Anyone with gumption
And a sharp mind will take the measure
Of two things: what's said and what's done.
The umgi and dawi, the people of the river,
Spoke with words of honour, and in deeds of kingship
Established our sway over all the rich strongholds
Of this heroic land.

Until finally one, a fiend out of the South
Began to work his evil in the world.
Varag Kol hight³ this once-umgi demon
Haunting the lowlands, marauding round the hill
And the desolate sands; he had dwelt for a time
In misery among the banished monsters -
Nagash's clan, whom the ancestors had outlawed
And condemned as outcasts. For the unlife eternal
The elgi slavers from beyond the whale-road
And the thaggoraki had exacted a price:
Nagash got no good from mornduraz and blood
Because umgi and dawi made him anathema
And out of the curse of his exile there sprang
His grim zangunaz - Varag Kol was one.
Where he walked, the land died,
And the dead walked behind them.
Up from the South, up through the sand-storms,
Gods-cursed Varag Kol came greedily loping.

The kings of the three cities renewed their oaths,
And the strongest umga leader was not inclined
To allow the uzkular to retain unlife:
They considered that unlife of great insult
To all folk everywhere. Time and again,
The umgi warhosts worked to defend
Their peoples' lives, laying about them
As best they could with their ancestral blades.
Stalwart in action, they kept striking out
On every side, seeking to cut
The walking dead down. When they joined the struggle
There was something they could have not known at the time,
That not blade above earth, no umgi's art
Could ever damage their demon opponent.
He had conjured the harm from the cutting edge
Of every weapon. But his going away
Out of the world and the days of his unlife
Would be agony to him, and his alien spirit
would travel far into fiends' keeping.

Time and again, when the war-hosts clashed
And seasoned fighters got flushed with blood
They would pledge themselves to protect their kin
And battle the undead with whetted swords!
But when dusk came and day crept out
Over each upturned, blood-spattered field
The floor of the battle-sites where they had fought
Would be slick with slaughter. And those who died
Became Varag Kol's enslaved, and the living armies dwindled.
Men were disheartened. So dawi got ready,
Donned our wargear, indifferent to the cost
Of an unquiet death; baraz had been forged
So we must meet the menace under sky
To keep the honour of our people safe:
No enemy's threat could crush us in it,
No vicious magick would undo our oath.
And a weapon we lent to the umgi
At that moment was of no small importance:
The dawi gifted them a shafted weapon,
A proud and gleaming spear tempered with runes
By a rune-smith who had worked wonders
In days gone by. Then the Azril folk
In armies side by side flooded the plains,
The glint of iron and steel and of gromril
Like the sun on the river bursting its banks
And pushed the unquiet dead back to the west
To far Yar Urbaz. With skrund and drek,
The dawr throng garaz took their damaz.
The bloody swathe that Living and Dead
Cut through each other was everywhere.
No one could miss their murderous feuding.
Varag Kol's pride and prowess as a warrior
Were feared by all; but they had confidence
That they could hold out against that horde of undead,
Defend their wives and the ones they loved
From the shock of his attack. He retreated for shelter
Behind the city walls. Then the umgi king swooped
On the uzkul at bay, his banner swarmed
Into their refuge, and Azril forces
Drove forward to destroy his camp.
There in their gray hairs, Longbeards
Were cornered, ringed around with swords
And came to pass into unhappy fate.
And it came to pass that the king's umgi
Were slain by Varag Kol's hand, and by his minions.
It mattered not who went for him in anger,
They were split open so that blood came spurting
From under their skin. The dawi throng
Still did not flinch, but mustered fast,
Charged back with a harder stroke;
The demon turned and took them on.
No warrior, no clansman or brave umgi
Could land a blow against the deathless lord.
The throngs, divided, lost their conviction
And warriors buckled and bowed their bloodied heads
And dropped to the ground. But their doom was not held off.
Though they were cut deep, they rose again
And cut their brothers down cruelly undaunted.
At last, a thegn hefted the spear
And smashed murderously against Varag Kol
Past the witchly shield. And the demon collapsed!
The jackal of people was sheared of unlife,
And those enslaved to him found peace in death.
Khazukan Kazakit-ha! It is always better
to avenge dear ones than to indulge in mourning.
For every one of us, living in this world
Means waiting for our end. Let whoever can
Win glory before death. When a warrior is gone,
That will be his best and only bulwark.
Khazukan Kazakit-ha!"

Urgrim threw a fist into the air with the final line, and held it there, his arm quivering, his face contorted in intense passion, and only relaxed when he'd let his breath return to him.

---

1. "Fate remains wholly inexorable," one translation of a line from The Wanderer.
2. "So spoke the wanderer // mindful of hardships // of fierce slaughters // and the downfall of kinsmen," - the following lines from The Wanderer.
3. hight. archaic English, "was named".

[-Sentinel-]

"Hildebrand," Sieghard began, "That alarm spell of yours... Is it possible that Klammenberg could know how to do that as well?"

Elsa found it a bit jarring to be called Hildebrand, even for the sake of appearances in front of the soldiers. Surely no one was stranger to the fact that she and Sieghard had been in many scrapes together.

"He may very well know an alarm spell, yes," she answered. "I think all lores of magic have something with this kind of purpose. But if he does know such a spell, and if he did cast it, there's little we can do about it in any case."

[LeSwordfish]

"I don't really care." Ludo said. "If all we can do is make him move again, so be it. Let's spread the men out so if he's here, he can't escape."

He marched up to the nearest door and pounded on it with all the strength in his small fist. "Open up, in the name of the captain!"

OOC

Spoiler

Show

PLAN:
Knock on each door. Anyone answers, check if they've seen Klammenberg. If they have recently, we go from there. If not, we search the house - presumably too many houses to search thoroughly, but at least check he's not got someone at knifepoint in the bedroom.
If nobody answers, or if they refuse to open, kick the door in, search the house. More thorough search on empty houses.
Halberdiers block the ends of the street, and circle to see if there are any back doors from the houses, which they guard.
Each house should be searched by either Elsa, Sieghard and a dog, or Ludo and Morrslieb.

Command test to get people to open up: (1d100)[78] vs 57.

[LCP]

Not Urgrim

Ludo’s most commanding tone was unfortunately not as commanding as he might have hoped, coming as it did from about four feet off the ground. There was no reply to his insistent knocking until one of the halberdiers put his boot to the door, breaking it open with a resounding crack. The people of Sundial Passage didn’t seem to be able to afford very good locks.

Ludo had barely stepped over the threshold when the inhabitants of the house decided they were at home after all, and came rushing down to see what the noise was about. There were two of them: a woman in her mid-thirties, and a slightly younger man whose flushed face, furtive manner, and back-to-front tunic made Ludo wonder whether he lived here or was just visiting.

The woman did most of the talking, standing up to the armed men barging into her home with plenty of courage but little effect. She hadn’t seen Klammenberg, she said, or anyone resembling Klammenberg, and when her husband heard of this (Ludo noted the young man didn’t step forwards to identify himself as said husband), he would have Words. Heedless of her protests, the militia trampled up and down through the house, throwing open every door and checking every window. No trace of lurking necromancers was found.

Taking their leave, they began working their way down the alleyway. Sundial Passage was short compared to Tower Street, but still there were a good number of houses to search. After the first few, it seemed like the neighbours had heard enough doors being kicked in to be ready the first time the soldiers knocked.

Two or three of the people they spoke to showed some recognition of Klammenberg’s picture when they were shown the poster, though they struggled to remember when they had seen him – all they could pin down for sure was that Klammenberg had been seen more than once on this street. None of them seemed to be harbouring him in their kitchens. The party had worked their way about halfway down the alley and the night was growing thicker when they came to another house where no-one answered the door.

Tall and narrow, it stood with its back to the old Arabyan tower. Its lower walls looked like Arabyan work too, but more floors had been added in the Imperial style, a rickety superstructure of timber and plaster that leaned out over the street. The windows were dark and dirty, and it seemed no-one had even tried to wash off the white plague cross on the door. No matter how long or hard Ludo knocked, no-one answered.

A few strong kicks broke open the door, and Ludo stepped inside. Letting his eyes adjust, he saw he was standing in a cramped entrance hall. Four doors led off it: one at the far end, and three to his right. On his left, a narrow staircase led up to the floor above. The wooden steps were dusty – in the dust, he could see bootprints, as of a man coming and going many times.

The house remained dark and quiet, no-one coming running to the sound of the break-in. The air had a queer, musty smell to it, like ash and sweet spices. Stoutheart had scarcely got one sniff of it before he started going berserk, running back and forth and barking at shadows. Ludo had to grab the little dog to stop him tripping the others as they filed in.

“Hello?” called one of the halberdiers, blinking in the dark. “Anybody home?”

Silence.

OOC:

Spoiler

Show

I’ll assume that to cover the ends of the alley has taken 4 men (2 at each end), and to watch the back doors another 4 (assuming from the division of labour in your post that you’re checking 2 houses at a time), leaving you with 4 halberdiers on hand for house searching – 2 with Sieghard + Elsa and 2 with Ludo + Adelbert. The two search parties will only be roughly the width of the alleyway apart at any given time so can easily be called back into one group.

Outside you’ve got a good amount of moonlight, but inside this house it is dark as described – you’ll need light sources to search.

---

Urgrim

Khazukan khazakit-ha! the hall roared back, hammering their tankards on the tables in acclamation. They did that for every tale on Saga night, but to Urgrim’s ears at least it sounded particularly loud. Looking around the hall, he saw Berki among the throng, hammering as hard as any of them.

The shadows in the feast hall seemed to have grown deeper and darker since he spoke the name of Varag Kol, reminding him unpleasantly of the catacombs of the Red Pyramid. Heading back to his seat, he was accosted by one of the keepers of the kegs before he could sit down.

“You’re one of them who ranged out with Thrunrik, aye?” he said. Hefting a small barrel to the top of the pile, he tapped it and poured out a tankard for Urgrim. The barrel itself was marked `XXXXXX’. “Here,” he said. “This one’s for you.”

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa's breath grew still as she stared at the darkness ahead. She had a bad feeling about this house... or perhaps a good one, given that this was likely the house they were looking for.

At any rate, she had a feeling.

Surely the noise from both the broken door and the dog had already given them away, so some light would not be making things worse; if something was waiting for them, they had given it ample warning to prepare its ambush. She quietly pronounced a light spell on her staff.


OOC

Spoiler

Show

Channeling: (d100)[72]
Light 3+: (2d10)[9][3](12)

[LeSwordfish]

"Think we've got something here." Ludo said. " You two, go and watch the door to the temple: that funny smell might mean they have a way through. Bar it, don't let anyone past, keep asking each other if you've seen him."
Releasing Stoutheart's collar so the little dog was free to run to the end of the road and hide behind a halberdier's legs, Ludo advanced into the house, following the footsteps, sling in his hand.

"This isn't magic, right?" he asked Elsa quietly.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard took a deep breath. This is it...

"No," Sieghard said. "We've already got men watching the temple. And if this is where Klammenberg and his monster are, we'll want every blade we can get." he said.

"Footprints lead up," He muttered. "Check the doors down here to make sure there's nothing behind them to follow us, then we'll head up. Finding the priest comes first, we can do a more thorough search after."

[LCP]

Not Urgrim

One by one, they threw open the doors on the ground floor, revealing dark and empty rooms. The nearest to the front was a bedroom, seeming largely disused. Behind it was a badly depleted store-room and a little room barely bigger than a closet, containing an old tin bath. The door at the back of the hall opened onto a large kitchen, with a fireplace, a back door, and a cellar hatch at the bottom of a short flight of worn stone steps. In one corner was a haphazard pile of dirty dishes and half-eaten pie crusts - perhaps the source of the sour scent of decay that lingered there, distinct from the strange smell in the hall.

Returning to the stairs, Ludo and Elsa ascended in single file, emerged onto an equally narrow landing above. The light of Elsa's staff showed many tracks on the dusty floorboards - footprints and also wide scrapes, as of a heavy object being dragged.

Two doors led off the landing, one in the rear wall and one to the right. Both were shut. Behind them, another flight of rickety stairs climbed crookedly up to a third floor. There were marks in the dust of those steps as well, but not nearly as many as on the first flight and the landing. The dry, musty smell seemed slightly stronger up here.

Elsa Only

Spoiler

Show

There was something in the stagnant air of this house that set Elsa's teeth on edge. Shyish and Ulgu hung like dust-motes around her, slowly curdling into something darker. In every shadowed doorway she half expected to see the shape of black feathers and iron nails...

[RossN]

Adelbert

Trying to hide his astonishment at them having actually found something Adelbert tapped his fingers at the hilt of his sword and followed Ludo and Elsa up. Putting an ear to the closed doors, starting with the one to the right he listened for... well anything.

OOC:

Spoiler

Show

Perception: (1d100)[70] vs 66 (86 with acute Hearing Bonus)

[LeSwordfish]

Ludo pressed his ear to the left door, listening intently.

OOC

Spoiler

Show

(1d100)[1] vs 48 perception.

total perception

Ludo has the Sixth Sense talent, if that helps. Not that we're expecting to be ambushed or anything.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard's eyes lingered on the tracks. Were they from Balios or from the vampire's other victims?

"Bodies," Sieghard said. He doubted Klammenberg had an inconspicuous way to dispose of them. It wouldn't surprise him if he didn't even care. "You're smelling the people they've killed. Ready yourselves, I'd wager what we're about to find is worse than any battlefield."

He drew his sword. "Blades plated with silver, or blessed by priests," Sieghard repeated. Well, we don't have silver... He turned to Adelbert and offered his sword. "Time for a quick prayer before we go in?"

[LCP]

Not Urgrim

Adelbert could hear nothing at his chosen door. At first, Ludo thought he heard nothing either - but listening closer, he realised he could just make out the slow rhythm of someone breathing.

[Thragka]

Urgrim

“You’re one of them who ranged out with Thrunrik, aye?” he said. Hefting a small barrel to the top of the pile, he tapped it and poured out a tankard for Urgrim. The barrel itself was marked `XXXXXX’. “Here,” he said. “This one’s for you.”

"Aye," Urgrim nodded. "Gods rest him, and the others." He took a swig from his tankard and made an appreciative face. "Thank you."

He made his way over to where Berki sat. "Mind if I join you?"

[LeSwordfish]

Ludo raised his hand for attention and pointed at the door he was standing by. "Nothing in here," he said, his voice just a little above a whisper, nodding and pointing. "Try the door on the right," he added, shaking his head and continuing to point left.

He held up his crossbow and tapped the bowstring, looking enquiringly at Sieghard. The silver crossbow bolts?

[LCP]

Urgrim

After weeks of drinking human liquor, the brew Urgrim had been given tasted like it had been made by the Ancestors themselves. Was that Bugman's? It tasted like Bugman's

Berki welcomed him when he came to sit down. The young dwarf was looking better than Urgrim remembered, more recovered from the ordeals of the desert.

"That was a good tale," he offered - high praise from another dwarf.

OOC:

Spoiler

Show

It's Bugman's! You are immune to Fear for (1d10)[2] hours, but must test T at -20 or become Stinking Drunk.