[WFRP] The Bloody Crown XII

[LCP]

"Ambushing him?" said Ingwald. "How? Isn't he sat snug in his tower?"

When the meeting had been explained to him, he let out a low whistle between his teeth. "Things must be worse than we thought if the Prince is putting himself on the line," was his only comment.

"And we're just going to... shoot him?" said Hanna. "That hasn't worked before." Her expression turned dark. "What if he brings the spirits with him?"

"We'll come through," said Ortwin, though the others didn't seem to hear him. "We always do."

Only Gustaf hadn't spoken. The quiet woodsman took a while more to think before speaking out.

"It's not good country down there. Just rocks and dust. Hard to hide in." He paused again. "I went with the commander, before," he said, glumly. "I suppose that means I should go with Master Stubbs."

Hanna looked surprised, while Ingwald tried not to look relieved. "That puts us in the rear, then," said Ingwald.

Hanna heaved a deep breath. "I suppose it does."

[LeSwordfish]

Ludo nodded, and clapped Gustaf on the elbow. "Good man."

"The rest of you... hold your men back until the noise starts, then get to the peak and assess the situation. Officially, your instructions are to come in, help us prevent the vampire escaping, or if needed get Sieghard and Sforza out. Unofficially... use your judgement. If it's a lost cause, things could go very bad indeed. Pull your men back and... and look after them."

[LCP]

Ludo

Ingwald nodded. "We'll watch your backs," he said. "Here's hoping you don't need saving."

Hanna said nothing, but nodded. She had a hard gleam in her eye that Ludo didn't feel he entirely understood. Ortwin put his hand on her shoulder, but she didn't respond.

---

Jarla

Jarla wouldn't have expected to find a priest of the Heldenhammer this far from Altdorf, but find one she did. Father Hechsler seemed as surprised as her.

"You're the one they sent down there to talk with the grave-worm?" he said. "And you're going back? You're a braver woman than most."

He offered her a drink from the flask he carried at his hip, which after smelling she politely declined. When she told him what she wanted, he readily obliged.

"Blessed bullets? Perhaps you missed your calling, Fraulein. You could have been a Templar of the Silver Hammer." He held out his hand for the pistol-balls.

"Holy Sigmar, bless this shot. As Ghal Maraz smote the Great Necromancer on the banks of the Reik, so let them smite his servants, and return their spirits to Morr's kingdom." He passed his other hand over them and murmured a blessing in Classical, before handing them back. "Sigmar go with you. I think you'll need him."

---

Ludo & Urgrim

As the sun sank towards the horizon, Ludo and his Thorns descended into the valley. They had dulled their buckles and buttons with dust, deadening anything that might gleam. Gustaf went in the lead, following the path that he and Sieghard had picked out before.

The clouds hung low over the valley, so much so that they almost seemed to graze the hilltops. The sinking sun shone like fire in the west, brushing their undersides with red. Already most of the ruins were in shadow, the black needle of the Jackal's tower reaching up as if to touch the light.

Gustaf had been right. There was precious little cover on the valley floor, save for the occasional stony hummock or sharp-edged boulder. Closer to the city, there were the broken foundations of what had once been buildings - but Ludo had no desire to get closer to those deserted streets.

OOC:

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If I read the character sheets right, Ludo has Stealth 84, and Urgrim 76 (since I think this counts as 'rural'). Allowing Urgrim and Gustaf to assist Ludo in testing on behalf of the group, that'd put his total at 104 - can I get a roll regardless, to count DoS? Some NPCs might come along to make opposed rolls against it later.

If you have anything to specify about how you want to hide your team, or any questions to ask, now's the best time. I'm taking it the forward team is 12 Thorns (including Gustaf) + Ludo and Urgrim, with the rearguard team taking the rest.

---

Sieghard, Elsa & Jarla

At the top of the ridge, Sforza's honour guard were forming up. Ten hard-faced soldiers sat ready in the saddle, armed and armoured as if for battle. One of them was carrying the Iron Company banner, its heavy fabric fluttering fitfully in the breeze.

"Holt," said Sforza, giving Elsa a curt nod of acknowledgement. "Sieghard." One of the soldiers held out the spear for Sieghard to take, its golden head gleaming even in the half-light.

"Signora Schreiber," said the Prince, seeing Jarla. "I did not know you were joining us for our little expedition. You know you have already done all I asked you."

[RossN]

Jarla

Jarla smiled and thanked Father Hechsler. "Thank you. My brother Adelbert was a priest so I think he'd approve of me getting a little help from above. Sigmar watch over too Father."

Retrieving her bullets she joined Elsa and the Prince's guard on the hill. At Sforza's address to her she shrugged and smiled ruefully. "I think my brother would want me to see this through Your Highness, but I thank you for your concern. Besides I don't think your lady wife would approve if I simply rode off on you."

Despite her studied nonchalance Jarla was feeling her nerves catch up with her. She looked at Sforza's guard and the wizardess and wondered if these hardened veterans felt the same.

[LCP]

Jarla, Elsa & Sieghard

Sforza raised his eyebrows at Jarla's comment about Irene. "I think she knows we have an army," he said, drily. Still, he didn't seem inclined to turn her away. "Very well, signora. Say nothing unless I instruct you, and do nothing unless I give the order. You understand?"

The sun was now a horizontal sliver of orange light, sliding like a knife's edge between the clouds and the western hills. Sforza turned his head to watch it, squinting against the dying glare. "You know, Holt," he said in a low voice, "I thought it would be good, to be back on campaign. But this... this isn't the game as it ought to be played." He leant forward a little in the saddle. "Nothing to win, and everything to lose..."

[-Sentinel-]

"You know, Holt," he said in a low voice, "I thought it would be good, to be back on campaign. But this... this isn't the game as it ought to be played." He leant forward a little in the saddle. "Nothing to win, and everything to lose..."

Elsa let Sforza's words sink in, but was unsure how to answer them diplomatically.

Of course a highborn mercenary commander like Sforza would have a tendency to see war as an opportunity to seize, rather than a calamity befalling him and his people. Until today, he always used to have a choice in which conflicts he took part in or stayed out of; which conflicts could help turn Captain Sforza into Prince Sforza. But the people of the Broken Reaches... the people he now claimed to rule by right of conquest... they never had any such choice. Indeed, to them, the notion that war could be a matter of choice must be beyond absurd. They may not have attended some fancy Tobaro military college, nor campaigned in Arabya, but they still knew something about war that Prince Muzio Sforza very clearly did not: every war was ultimately a war for survival.

And now that Sforza finally got his first taste of a war that would earn him neither plunder nor new territories, and from which he could only emerge poorer... the kind of war with which he and his ilk had been plaguing the Reaches for untold generations... how did he take it? He felt aggrieved that a war would be forced on him. He bemoaned that this was 'not the game as it ought to be played'.

What exactly was he expecting of Elsa?

Sympathy?

'Oh, woe is me! Villains are bringing violence to my hard-won realm! How dare they force me to take up arms again? I never wanted this!'

"I imagine this is how all wars are, to most people involved in them," was the bravest reply Elsa could manage, keeping her voice carefully neutral despite the simmering contempt she felt for her employer in this moment.

Her amber eyes still fixed on Nath, she decided it was best to steer the conversation towards more pragmatic matters before her mouth ran away from her.

"Sire, I know a spell that fills men's hearts with courage. Shall I cast it on our party just before we meet the vampire? In the abstract, the living dead may not seem so horrible... but in the field, even the equals of the Iron Company have been known to quail at their sight."


Assuming Sforza lets her cast the spell

Spoiler

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Channeling. (No use rolling, because we're not pressed for time.)

Hearts of Fire 13: (3d10)[10][8][5](23)

Second attempt if needed: (3d10)[2][9][8](19)

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"You've already won all there is to be won," Sieghard said, keeping his tone carefully neutral. "Now it's just a matter of protecting it. If it wasn't the vampire, it would be some other monster or would-be conqueror. It's just the way of things in the Princes."

[LeSwordfish]

The Thorns were drawn up and ready to go, checking their weapons on the edge of Sforza's camp. It was a gut-wrenchingly low number. So many people had died. Ludo had recruited most of them: all he could see was the faces that were missing.

He clambered up onto a rock and cleared his throat, drawing them to attention.

"I don't do big speeches, and the commander certainly doesn't". Pause for laughter, strained as it was. "That's because we've never really needed to. You're brave, and we know that in our bones. You're skilled fighters, and we know that too. Telling you to get out there and kill them hasn't been necessary."

"This is the big one. This is the vampire himself. He drinks the water out of the ground. He puts rot into our food. He raises our dead against us. He's going to look into your eyes and you're going to be terrified. But you're going to stand your ground."

"But that means that if we win today, we've won forever. The vampire will be dead again and in the ground, and we'll watch the sun rise on a peaceful reaches. Hold the line, keep shooting, and the dying crops, the rotting meat, all that ends. Your families back at home, they eat good food, they drink clean water, they eat good meat. Break the line, run, or freeze, and we lose. Maybe for good. Fight hard! Fight well! Flee here, and the vampire is coming to starve your children!"

"He was killed before. And we're going to do it again. We have the weapon that killed him. We have a wizard. We have silver bolts, and we have the finest shots in the reaches firing them! Last time, he came with an army, and he was defeated - this time, despite his airs and graces, he's almost alone."

"You don't need speeches, but here I am, making one anyway. You are the Thorns! You are the men and women who faced him before, and watched him retreat! You drove him back before, and this time you're going to drive him into the ground! For Ottilda! For Goran! For Ortwin and Hector and Karla! For Rike on her hospital bed, waiting for the news! For your children at home, with drought in their mouths!"

"For Sieghard! For Sforza! For all those we've lost! And for the living everywhere!"

[LCP]

Ludo & Urgrim

At the moment that he climbed onto the stone, Ludo saw the doubt on the faces of the Thorns looking up at him. They were tired, cold, hungry - but more than that, they were afraid. All of them had seen battle before, but the quiet fear in their eyes was something more. Fear was the enemy’s weapon, and Ludo needed to burn it out.

He spoke of peace, and saw them raise their heads to listen. He spoke of home, and green fields and a good harvest, and saw their determination harden. He spoke of the times they had thrown the Jackal back, and saw the shadow of fear over them fade. He knew he could not banish it for good - but for now, he felt, the Thorns would fight for the love of life, despite the fear of death. That was all he could ask.

“You’ve got Ranald’s own way with words, Stubbs,” said Ingwald quietly as Ludo got down. He cast a glance over towards Sforza’s pavilion. “Makes a fellow wonder why you’re stuck here with us.”

“Once the Jackal’s dead,” said Hanna, “we’re hunting down that Rivermouth witch, right?” Her face was set and grim. “For Ottilda.”

“For Goran, too,” said Gustaf. “For all of them.”

Ortwin put a hand on Ludo’s shoulder. “We’re with you,” he said. “All the way.”

~

Down in the valley, Ludo crouched behind a rock and watched the sun sink behind the hills. The clouds still caught its setting rays, but soon they too began to darken. He tried to fight the sense that they were pressing down as the light died.

Soon the darkness was so complete that he could scarcely see Gustaf’s group behind the next rock. There were no lights in the tower tonight - no light anywhere in the ruins. Even the distant glow of the army’s campfires on the ridge behind them seemed lost in the murk.

At last, he saw the greenish glimmer of a lantern up ahead. It was being carried by a solitary figure, hooded and cloaked, who followed the line of the old road out of the ruins. They did not follow it far, stopping and waiting beside a lonely lump of shattered stone. It stood a little way beyond the outskirts of the old city, but looked like it might once have been something shaped by human hands...

OOC:

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The figure with the lantern is about 45 yards away from Ludo’s current position. If you want to try to sneak a bit closer you can do so with another Stealth test.

---

Elsa, Sieghard & Jarla

“Everything there is to win?” said Sforza, looking to Sieghard. He gave a smile - rare these days - his teeth flashing white through the dusk. “We need to broaden your horizons, Sieghard. The world is much wider than the Reaches.”

Brushing aside whatever malaise had been affecting him, his voice became brusque and businesslike again. “Any protection you can give us, Holt, do it. Myrmidia knows, the enemy won’t hold back.” Hearing the jingling of a harness, he looked round to his left and saw Father Barbaro riding up to join them. “Daniele!” he called out. “Speak of the goddess, and her servant shall appear, eh?”

“Uh - yes, of course,” said Barbaro, drawing his horse up alongside the party. He sounded nervous, and Sieghard thought he caught a whiff of liquor on the air around him. “...Your highness, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“No,” said Sforza. “But I haven’t heard any better ones.” He put a gauntleted hand on the priest’s shoulder. “Myrmidia blesses the bold, isn’t that what you’ve told me, old friend? If war was about only doing what is safe, then any washerwoman could be a general.” He looked back down into the valley. “We cast the dice.”

Elsa spoke the words of her spell, and Sieghard felt a fiery warmth swell inside him, holding back the terrors of the night. One of Sforza’s veterans looked towards the western horizon, through the mist of cloud that was now descending over the hilltops. <Sun’s down,> he observed, in a voice that sounded like he gargled gravel.

<Very good, Orso,> said Sforza. He turned back to Sieghard. “When you’re ready, Sieghard. Lead the way.”

OOC:

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Pausing here mainly to let Ludo have the chance to do any final positioning he wants to do before you guys arrive in the valley - but also to give you the chance for any final words/prep before descending.

[Thragka]

Urgrim and Ludo

Urgrim listened calmly to Ludo's speech. It was a good one. If they made it to the morning, he'd have to remember it, for the saga.

"For Thrunrik," Urgrim added, "Lokri, Baragil, Skargan, Varadin and Moragina." It wouldn't do to let the umgi forget the stakes for the hall-dwellers of the Reaches – nor their contribution.

Spoiler: OOC

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I previously mentioned asking Berki to join the advance party, but given my inactivity during the planning stages, I won't complain if the arrangements are set in stone and that hasn't been one of them.

~

Urgrim tapped Ludo's shoulder, and indicated another vantage point in the shadow of a dry bank skirting the ancient trail. The ranger nodded to the cloaked figure, and began picking his way across to get a better look with a slow and considered pace.

Spoiler: OOC

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Assuming the same bonus from Rover and assistance from Ludo and Gustaf, but with the penalty for wearing mail, Urgrim tests Stealth against 86 here:
Stealth - (1d100)[51]

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa, Sieghard and Jarla

This was neither the right time nor the right company to share a kiss or a hug, or even some heartfelt words, but Elsa cast a meaningful glance at Sieghard while Sforza's attention was elsewhere. They had been through so much together, battled so many foes side by side. Neither would be alive if it had not been for the other. They knew when to come to each other's rescue, and when to trust the other to handle themself on their own so that the task at hand may be accomplished. They had enough in common to work together like a well-oiled machine, and enough differences between them to be able to cover each other's blind spots. Even without their romantic attachment, they would have a bond stronger than dwarf-steel.

If Elsa was to die tonight, she could think of no better person to die beside. And she knew the feeling was mutual.

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but with the penalty for wearing mail, Urgrim tests Stealth against 86 here:

Damn, that is very impressive stealth for a dwarf.

[LeSwordfish]

"I'm not stuck here with you," Ludo said. "I choose to be here. As for the rivermouth witch - I bet she'll be here tonight. Our first target is the vampire, but spread the word: whoever takes her out, they'll be drinking on me for the rest of the year."

He looked around at the faces of his friends, uncomfortably aware it could be the last time he would see any of them alive. "Stay safe."

Urgrim & Ludo
"Wait," Ludo cautioned. "When Sforza crests the hill, when he's making all the noise and got all the eyes on him... alright, now.

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Do you want Stealth for Ludo as well now Urgi has already passed, or can me and Gustaf assist him? Here's a roll vs "can't fail" anyway: (1d100)[86]

[RossN]

Elsa, Sieghard & Jarla

Jarla says nothing, but simply checks her weapons again and pets Countess. She hardly knows these people but her brother felt it was vital the vampire be stopped... so here she is.

Glancing upwards she quietly hoped the gods were with them tonight.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard nodded at Elsa. "Watch my back and I'll watch yours," he said quietly. "Gods willing, we end this tonight." There was more he wished he could say, but he knew that Elsa knew him well enough that the words weren't needed.

"Nothing to gain by making him wait." Sieghard said, starting towards the valley. He glanced back towards Elsa. "You'll be able to tell when his protection spell is gone, right?" then back to Sforza. "He's not the sort you want to underestimate, but he'll be less dangerous without his magic."

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I know dropped torch is the signal to attack, but do we have a way for Elsa to signal that magic armor has worn off?

[-Sentinel-]

"You'll be able to tell when his protection spell is gone, right?"

"I'll rip that protection off him myself if I can," said Elsa. "Wouldn't be the first time I unravel one of his spells." She still felt quite smug about that, given the vast disparity in magical power between herself and the vampire.

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I know dropped torch is the signal to attack, but do we have a way for Elsa to signal that magic armor has worn off?

We do not. I don't think we need a signal for this, though. Magic armor or not, we just throw everything we have at Nahorek whenever we're not neck-deep in his minions.

Aethyric Armour only lasts a minute. It's not something he can easily cast ahead of time, like the 10-minute Hearts of Fire.

[LCP]

Ludo & Urgrim

Moving softly over the stony ground, Urgrim bellied up into the cover of the bank. Berki and the others followed at Ludo’s signal soon after. The hooded figure showed no sign of noticing them - their attention was on the pin-prick procession of torches winding down from the ridge.

They were no more than thirty yards from where the lantern-bearer was standing now, and Ludo could see his prediction had been right - the face under the hood was Mala’s. Unaware she was being watched, her face was tense and frowning as she watched the Prince’s party draw near…

---

Elsa, Sieghard & Jarla

The Thorns had done a good job of concealing themselves - so good that Jarla had to reassure herself that they were really out there somewhere as Sforza’s retinue rode down through the dark. Ahead of them, the gleam of a single lonely lantern picked out the Jackal’s meeting place.

Mala was waiting alone beside a square stump of stone, on the forgotten road out of the ruins. Standing atop it were what looked like a broken pair of stone feet. Perhaps it had once been the base of a statue, like the crouching vultures that flanked the way to the tower. There was no sign of the body to which the feet had belonged - only a crude fleur-de-lis carved into the plinth, clearly by another hand than the sculptor’s. Time and weather had worn it smooth, but the crusaders’ calling card still survived.

Sforza raised his hand, and his retinue came to a halt about a dozen yards from where Mala stood. They stood in silence for a little while, the lone woman with the lantern matching stares with the soldiers on their horses.

“Prince Sforza,” said Mala at last. “You wish to speak with us after all.”

“I came here to speak with your master,” said Sforza, “not to bandy words with a peasant. This is the hour he set. Where is he?”

“He will arrive in his own time,” said Mala, her voice calm. “He sent me ahead to greet you.” Sforza offered no reply. “Your highness,” she added, her lips twisting into a bitter smile.

The chilly silence resumed. Mala ran her eyes over the faces of Sforza’s retinue, as if counting heads. She stopped when she reached Sieghard.

“Are you his highness’ bodyguard now, sir?” she asked. “I don’t remember seeing you in such lofty company when you came to my village.”

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"You waste your breath, animal," Sieghard said, contempt clear in his voice. "I'm not interested in your false pleasantries."

[Thragka]

Urgrim and Ludo

"This is a godsdamned trap," Urgrim grumbled to Ludo, his quiet voice as if the opening act of a landslide could whisper. "The bastard always knows something we don't, always. What are we missing this time?"

He looked around the meeting site, past Mala, towards the ruins. Then he turned onto his side and looked back up the ridge. We're ambushing him from here, he thought. But if we've got the wrong end of the stick ... where would they hit us from?

Spoiler: OOC

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A Perception test for Urgrim's attempt to figure out where somebody could be watching the heroes from: Perception 74 - (1d100)[73]

[RossN]

Jarla

Jarla waved at Mala. "You are still not fooling anyone Mala," she said cheerfully. "And if I know you're loyalty is skin deep don't you think he knows too?"

[LeSwordfish]

"The Uzkular told us... he's not a fool but he's vulnerable to flattery," Ludo muttered back to Urgi. "He thinks we're here to crown him as king, to kneel before him and worship him like he wants... Klammenberg said the same thing. If anything will fool him..."

He nudged Gustaf. "That's her. The witch who killed Ottilda. Remember, we're here for the vampire... but I don't want her leaving either."

[Thragka]

"Yeah," Urgrim muttered, rolling back to look at Mala, at least partially accepting Ludo's reassurance. And after all, the worst part of his soul whispered, isn't that what Moragina died for? That vital tactical insight? You stupid ungrim.

Urgrim breathed. "I hope we're right," he added aloud. "I just want to have a plan for when we aren't."

[LCP]

Urgrim & Ludo

Urgrim could no longer see the fires of the camp behind them. The top of the ridge was lost in cloud, leaving the valley below in deepening darkness. In the light, it had been hard to imagine how the enemy could hide out on the barren plain - now, Urgrim’s imagination ran riot.

---

Sieghard, Elsa & Jarla

“I see your manners haven’t changed,” said Mala to Sieghard, squinting at him as if she suspected him of being in on some secret joke. Her eyes flicked over to Jarla. “Frau Schreiber. You should have taken my advice.”

Sforza gave Jarla a sidelong glance, his curiosity clearly piqued. Still, he was not about to let Mala take control of the conversation. “Your master indulges himself too much. If he means to keep us waiting, we will return to our camp.”

“Have patience,” said Mala. “He is coming.”

Before Sforza could reply, one of his bodyguards gave an exclamation of surprise. Under the rags he had wrapped it in, the head of Sieghard’s spear was beginning to give off a soft, warm glow.

Out of the darkness of the ruins, the sound of slow deliberate hoofbeats began to rise. Four mounted shapes drew into the light - the lifeless things that had once been knights of Morr. One of them carried a tattered banner, as if in mockery of Sforza’s. Stitched together from rags of black cloth, it bore the device of a blood-red jackal’s head, flanked by columns of Nehekharan picture-writing. Perhaps the surviving Rivermouthers had made it - or perhaps it had been made by the hands of the dead.

Behind the knights, figures on foot were appearing - the bodies of Kleinrabe’s men-at-arms, still armed and armoured as they had been the day they died. Their tabards and tunics were torn, the Morrite insignia ripped away - perhaps some of the fabric had gone into the jackal standard. They took up formation as if they were an honour guard; Sieghard thought he counted ten of them by the lights in their empty eyes.

Last of all came the Jackal, advancing out of the darkness. He wore his mask of black onyx, and carried his staff - a strange thing of polished bone and tarnished gold, hooked like a shepherd’s crook. The Iron Company’s horses whickered and shied as he approached, and Barbaro began murmuring a prayer to Myrmidia. The vampire fixed him with a stare, and he fell silent.

Nakht-Horeb had stopped in the centre of his undead guards, separated from Sforza and his retinue by a space of about twenty yards. His attention now turned to Sieghard - or rather, to the spear. It was shining almost as brightly as Mala’s lantern, the cloth it was muffled in doing little to conceal its light.

Holding out his hand, Sforza took a torch from one of the guards, and urged his reluctant horse a few paces forwards. “Nahorek of Nehekhara!” he called across the gap. “At last we meet face to face.”

The black mask turned towards him. “You bring an assassin’s weapon with you,” the Jackal replied, his voice deep and cold as the grave.

“As proof of my good intentions,” replied Sforza. “You received my message, did you not? It is my gift to you, along with your book, if we can only resolve our differences here.”

The vampire looked about into the darkness, then back to the spear. The dead men between him and Sieghard shuffled a little closer together.

“And what does Sforza of Tilea ask for in exchange?” Teel-ya, he pronounced it, as if it was as foreign to him as furthest Cathay. “A man such as yourself must want something in return.”

OOC:

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Obviously there’s some witchsight info for Elsa to accompany this post - Sentinel if you can give me a roll, I’ll give you it all in one go rather than in two chunks.

I’m breaking here for the sake of it already being a long post and to let you guys jump in wherever you feel you want, but if you want to keep quiet and let these two keep talking that’s also fine!

---

Ludo & Urgrim

Urgrim noticed that Berki was a little high of the bank when the Jackal turned his head in their direction. With a silent hand on the other dwarf’s back, he brought him back down into cover. There was a breathless moment when the gaze of the onyx mask seemed to linger on their position - but then it turned away.

[Thragka]

Urgrim and Ludo

"Grimazul-ha, onk." Urgrim whispered to Berki. He paused a few heartbeats, and then leaned in again.

"When I fought him after Saga ... I heard the voices of the rangers we lost in the Waste. The mask makes you hear the dead." Urgi gripped Berki's shoulder. "Be steel," he repeated.

[LCP]

Elsa Only

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If Nahorek was a frightening sight to the mundane senses of the soldiers around her, he was far more so to Elsa's second sight. Dhar rolled off him like fog off the Reik, curling around his limbs and pooling in his footprints. Shyish mingled with the darkness emanating from him, glimmering like gossamer on the air as it faded from the past into the future. It seemed drawn to the mask and the staff, though much of it vanished into the miasma of Dhar before it ever reached them.

The staff was clearly an object of great power, though thankfully not as cataclysmic as that of the book. The longer she looked it, the more she felt that she stood on the edge of somewhere else, its nature just beyond her grasp. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled in a cold breeze only she could feel, and she felt the dry kiss of wind-blown sand over her face. When she raised her hand to brush it away, there was nothing there.

There were strands of magic worked into the banner too, some kind of spell worked into those roughly-stitched hieroglyphs - although the power there felt less overwhelming than that surrounding the vampire and his treasures. One place she did not see any sign of conscious spellcraft was on his person - unless he had found a way to hide them from her, the protective wards he had used the last time they met were conspicuous by their absence.

The wind was blowing out of Nath, and it brought more Shyish with it, a ghostly fogbank rolling between the silent figures of the dead. To senses as finely-tuned as Elsa's, it played tricks on the eye. She thought she glimpsed Adelbert, riding his old bay mare alongside his sister. She blinked, and he was gone - just an eddy in the currents of Shyish that swirled around them, fighting with the Hysh that shone from Sieghard's spear...

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa drew in a sharp breath, her gaze flying from Nahorek himself, to Nath, to the banner. The enemy had come prepared, of course; the question was whether he was more prepared than they were. She had a growing suspicion the answer was yes, though she could not anchor it into anything concrete—anything she could bring to the attention of the others.

Besides, what difference would it make? The stakes had been set and the hands had been dealt.

Tempting as it was to spout some defiant words at the enemy, Elsa realized she did not have much to say, nor a desire to draw Nahorek's personal attention. Any line that came to her mind was more stilted than the dialogue of an Altdorf street play. She instead focused on keeping Bastard calm and throwing the occasional watchful glance at the four undead knights.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"It'd make a poor weapon for an assassin, shining the way it does," Sieghard commented. He couldn't help but feel some satisfaction seeing Nahorek's guards tighten their ranks. He knows what I can do with it. Keep your eyes on me then, it'll just make it easier for Ludo and Urgrim. And the moment they loose their shots and draw your attention away, I'll drive it through your ribs.

[LeSwordfish]

"Take aim," Ludo instructed, his voice as quiet as the wind on the sand.

OOC

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Maintaining a Full Aim on Nahorek with a silver bolt. Does Nahorek get a size bonus? Is anybody in the way?

[RossN]

Jarla

Jarla smiled at Mala after her comment, then sat back in the saddle and waited as the living dead man and his puppets arrived.

Adelbert you better be grateful for this or we'll have words in the afterlife.

[LCP]

“I want peace,” said Sforza, with such an air of sincerity that Elsa had to remind herself why they were really here. “When I brought my army south, I thought these ruins held only a monster to be hunted. Now my advisors tell me you are a man of noble blood. Speaking as a prince of one great land to another, surely we can find a way to end this... fruitless fighting?”

“Has the world changed so much?” asked Nahorek. Elsa was not sure whether he asked the question to Sforza or to the empty air. “The chieftains of the north think themselves the equals of the kings of Khemri. When I came to these lands, your people lived in huts with their pigs.” At the mention of swine, Sforza’s lips compressed into a tight line, the corner of his eye twitching just a little. “Does no memory of us survive? The queen and the traitor Vashanesh. I tracked them north. Did they never reach you?”

“I have campaigned from the Irrana Mountains to the plains of Haytin,” said Sforza, “and seen no living trace of your people. Their kingdom is a desert. It is called only the Land of the Dead.”

A long silence followed. Was it possible for a creature like Nahorek to feel grief? Behind the onyx mask, it was impossible to tell.

“You say you have come here for peace.”

Sforza nodded. “Isn’t that what any ruler wants for his people?” He urged his horse another step forward. “I have seen for myself that you are no beast. You can reason. Will you not come and give me your hand?”

Nahorek remained rooted behind his guards. Jarla felt the soldiers around her tense. Mala began to sidle back towards the ranks of the undead.

“You are not a man of peace,” was the Jackal’s reply. “I see the blood on you, Sforza of Tilea. You are a man of war.”

“I am a soldier,” said Sforza. “I’m not ashamed of having fought for what is mine.”

“Why should you be? A king does not concern himself with each lesser life he spends. To give his name eternal life, he must become a dealer in death.” The red eyes behind the mask were fixed on Sforza’s, shining in the torchlight. “This land you have conquered is far from your home. How long will your name endure?”

Mala had reached the safety of her master’s guards, and now came hurrying up beside her master. The vampire continued to speak. “This one tells me you have no heir. How long before age steals your strength? Before others come to pick the flesh from the carcass of your achievements? They may be here already.” Sforza glanced back at the faces of his retinue. “Death came to Nehekhara. It comes to kingdoms as surely as to men.”

“Why are you telling me this?” said Sforza. The torch still burned in his hand; the vampire’s words had drawn him in. “Death does not frighten me. I’ve faced it many times before.”

“Danger is not death,” said the Jackal. “Death is inescapable. It comes for you as surely as for your lowliest slave. No riches, no armies can keep it from you.” A long pause. “But I can.”

Mala stepped away from him, an unguarded look of surprise and anger on her face. She clearly hadn’t been warned that this was her master’s plan.

“That is what I have come to offer you. Not peace. Peace does not interest me. An alliance. Restore to me what is mine, and your name will never die. You will be a general of the Undying King. Your armies will grow with every victory. Your conquests will stretch from the mountains to the sea, until there are no more lands to conquer.” Nahorek’s voice had taken on an otherworldly resonance. In the darkness behind him, Elsa thought she could see the serried ranks of a ghostly army - and looming above them, the outline of a terrible, crowned figure, its hand stretching out over its loyal servant. She wondered if Sforza could see it too.

“This is your destiny. To become greater than any mortal man could be. You only have to reach out and take it.”

[RossN]

Jarla

Jarla bit her lip to stop herself from speaking. In the Tilean's place... Well perhaps she would be tempted. It seemed unlikely anyone would offer Jarla Schreiber the chance to become a vampire. If this was what was on offer.

She wondered if Mala was considering their earlier exchange.