[WFRP] The Bloody Crown XIII

[-Sentinel-]

"You can't kill the Jackal. Is like saying… like saying you have killed the moon. Maybe in the light of day it hides from you, but still, is there. Always."

"And that," said Elsa with a grim smile, "is exactly why I want to speak to your people's elders. They know things about the Jackal that the rest of the Broken Reaches don't."

---

16th Nachexen


"The houses are still there. Four walls and a roof, if you are wanting them."

Elsa nodded. "That's all I could ask for. We'll rest as much as we can once we get there, because we'll do the last leg of the trip in a single day—I'd rather not pitch a tent in wolf-infested lands."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard - 8th Nachexen

Sieghard nodded. "Think on it all you need," he said. "I'm not trying to rush anyone into anything. As for pay and the barracks, through the rest of the winter, yes. I don't want anyone out in the cold, just for you to start thinking about something more permanent."

---

With Ludo, 16th Nachexen

"I was afraid you'd say something like that," Sieghard replied. "Money's tight. Not so tight that more people have to freeze, but Sfoza seems to think I can rub two coins together and make three." He looked over at one of the newcomers who scurried off the moment he noticed that he was being watched. "We already took in all I thought the village could handle when we were looking for workers. More than I thought we could handle, but we made it work. If more keep coming, though... Well, we can't keep 'em cutting wood forever. Any ideas for how to keep 'em busy?"

[LeSwordfish]

"We can make fake work all we want," Ludo said. "But maybe the best thing to do is to encourage people to keep moving south. If people aren't freezing, well... look, after everything that's happened, I think your little kingdom will consider itself a success if we get to spring with those two coins left. And we can work out the rest from there."

[LCP]

Jarla, 12th Nachexen

“Mm… did he ever write to you about what they have buried here at the castle?” asked Hieronymus, his mind evidently not straying down the same avenues as Jarla’s. “You know, he was one of the party that retrieved it.”

---

16th Nachexen

Ludo

After class that day, Ludo noticed that Rhadegund was clearing up with a more contemplative look than usual. Something was clearly eating at her - at last, she had to say it.

“Is that story really true?” she asked, in a tone that sounded very ready to be told ‘no’. “That you and Brother Schreiber fought skeletons in the Mere?”

Jarla

“You have lived an interesting life, haven’t you, Jarla?” Irene’s tone left it tantalisingly unclear whether that was a compliment.

Her attention returned to her breakfast as she continued. “I find it hard to see the need. I mean, it’s not as if Muzio doesn’t have enough sword arms already.” The Iron Company guard standing mutely by the door bore witness to the truth of that. “Still… it might be diverting.”

Elsa

Skender drew in his breath between his teeth. “One day?” he said. “That is best part of thirty miles. Uphill.” He raised his bushy eyebrows at Elsa. “You are sure?”

[LeSwordfish]

Ludo
"Some, uh, some exaggerations," Ludo admitted. "But mostly true."

He paused. "This was... the people who attacked Caerfort were different. There wasn't anything we could have done."

[-Sentinel-]

"One day? That is best part of thirty miles. Uphill. You are sure?"

Elsa pursed her lips unhappily. The thing she most wanted to avoid—setting camp in the hills—appeared to be an inevitability.

"You're the one who knows the lay of the land, she said with extreme reluctance, "so if you say Greasy Drop to Morr's Seat in one day is unlikely, I suppose we can spend our second night closer to Morr's Seat. Baldred told me lots of people in the hills have abandoned their homes... That would be better than a tent, if wolves come sniffing around in the night."

[RossN]

Jarla, 12th Nachexen

"Something about a magic book?" Jarla said, vaguely, trying to remember. "I never studied magic. I wonder if I'd have been any good at it..."

---

16th Nachexen

Jarla managed to keep the irritation from actually appearing on her face, and smiled brightly. "Excellent... I'll put out feelers and see if there is any interest."

She'd have to talk with local weaponsmiths about making foils and rapiers... and maybe that tailor Irene was snubbing about a uniform... and find a space to actually teach.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"Fake work still needs to be paid in real coin," Sieghard grumbled. "Just... Try to help me come up with something useful for them to do. You're clever, it shouldn't be too hard."

[LeSwordfish]

Ludo shrugged, "More wooden houses? Strengthen up the walls? A bridge like the one at Ravenskird? Clear the stumps of all those trees so we can plant that land in spring? I'd be more helpful if we had an iron mine here, but I assume if there was anything worth digging round here they'd have found it by now."

"Really the most useful thing we could do is keep drafting them into the Thorns. Maybe look to see if any of them would be good at the tax business, I told you I don't want to get stuck with that."

OOC

Spoiler

Show

Next week, Ludo can spend some time with the refugees and try and get some better answers to this.

[LCP]

Jarla, 12th Nachexen

“A magic book,” echoed Hieronymus. “Yes, I suppose that is… accurate, in fact if not in magnitude. Perhaps your brother was being careful in what he put to paper, fraulein, but this book is not like other books. It carries tremendous power… mm, and tremendous danger.”

He cleared his throat, leaning a little more heavily on his staff. “We had it held at the Temple, to begin with. Burying it on the grounds here was always supposed to be a temporary measure. His highness promised he had plans to send it to Magritta in the spring. But spring will be here soon, and I have heard nothing more.” The priest’s gaze slid off to where Barbaro and Jocasta had disappeared. “I fear the Prince has other things on his mind.”

---

16th Nachexen

Ludo

Rhadegund shook her head. “That’s not what I was thinking,” she said. “It’s just… he did so much, and we never saw it. Hardly ever saw him.” A spider took advantage of the pause in the sweeping to try to scuttle out from under one of the benches. Rhadegund saw it and squashed it flat.

“I grew up thirty miles from the Chateau du Marais, and I never saw it,” she said, more than a little bitterly. She looked up at the back wall, where the image of Verena still looked sternly down over the chapel. “That was what being a priest meant for him, but not for us.”


Elsa

“Yah, we can find somewhere,” said Skender. Sorin nodded. “We know the way.”

---

Aubentag, 17th Nachexen - Elsa

They set off early the next morning, following the road south to Greasy Drop. Soon the craggy maze of the Karst began to give way to the rocky shoulders of the Raven Hills, ther route winding between weathered spurs of blackened limestone as it climbed ever upward. It was getting late in the day by the time they finally found themselves looking down into the shallow valley where the unfortunately-named village nestled.

Greasy Drop was looking changed in more ways than one. The dark pool around which the village was built was looking smaller, a solitary raven strutting on the flat border of mud now left around its shrunken banks. The humble homes of the villagers were dark and empty, a year’s growth of vegetation sprouting from their thatch.

Descending into the centre of the ghost town, Skender gave a yell to make sure no-one was at home. Nothing answered him but the echoes of his own voice rebounding from the hills. He didn’t look surprised.

“In here,” said Sorin, pushing open one of the doors that already hung ajar. Inside, the house was dark and bare, the tracks of small animals criss-crossing the floor. Crossing to the central hearth, he dropped the paltry bundle of firewood he had collected on the walk and set about lighting it.

“This place is picked bare, now,” said Skender, looking around. “I heard when they first went south, they left a lot of things behind.” He bent to look under the bare wooden bed-frame, as if hoping there might still be something left. “Their priest must have convinced them they didn’t need them.”

“Mad as a shaved dwarf,” muttered Sorin, not looking up from his task. He grunted in satisfaction as the kindling lit. “Good thing he never came to Morr’s Seat.”

---

Marktag, 19th Nachexen - Elsa

From Greasy Drop, they continued west. As the hills grew higher, the wind grew stronger, whipping at Elsa’s short hair and stinging her skin with its bitter cold. The rocks were streaked with drifts of pale dust, shifting and swirling in the wind.

“Always the wind is in the west, these days,” said Skender, when Olga complained of the cold. “Where the sun goes to die. Wadim always said, when the wind is in the west, it has death in it.”

That night, they made camp in an abandoned herder’s hut, in the shelter of a cluster of rocks Sorin called the Little Brothers. From the rocks, one could look out over the foothills to the south, and into the great haze of dust that hid the desolate horizon of the Waste. As the sun sank in the west, the haze created one of the most impressive sunsets Elsa had seen, colouring the sky a deep, sanguine red.

The night passed uneventfully, although in the morning Tattie was insistent she’d heard wolves howling in the small hours. They ate a quick breakfast, and pressed on, trying to make the most of the light. Increasingly, Elsa noticed that Olga was trailing behind - her bodyguard’s short legs and city clothes were not meant for these hills.

It was late afternoon on Marktag when they came at last to Morr’s Seat. Built on a rocky outcrop that stuck up from the surrounding hilltops like a black thumb, it was ringed by a wooden palisade, the smoke of many chimneys rising from inside. Climbing the switchback road to the open gate, Elsa noted the remains of five severed hands nailed to one of its posts. They had been stripped of most of their flesh - looking up at the dozen or more ravens peering down at her from the top of the wall, Elsa had little doubt as to how.

Inside, the settlement was crowded. Most of the houses were built low to the ground, with thatched roofs and walls of packed earth. Men and women with hard, wind-tanned faces peered from windows and doorways, some of them coming out to greet Sorin and Skender as they recognised them. The space Morr’s Seat occupied could not have been much more than Painford, but Elsa estimated there were at least twice the number of people packed in here.

Two buildings dominated the town. The first and largest was what she assumed had to have been Rorik’s seat of power - a long, wooden hall, whose roof ended in the carved wooden likeness of a raven’s head. All along the eaves to either side, much smaller heads ran in close-packed rows - looking closer, Elsa saw they were real raven skulls, stuck in place with pitch. Someone had clearly gone to a lot of trouble for this morbid decoration - there must have been at least a hundred avian skulls mounted up there. They didn’t seem to bother the live birds, a good few of them perching on the roof of the hall itself.

The second building was smaller, but situated higher up the slope, right among the rocks at the lip of the crag. It was built from stones and packed earth, much like the houses around it - but those houses seemed to afford it a respectful distance. Unlike them, it had a tall, conical wooden roof, the chimney of which was issuing more smoke than the hearth-fires of its neighbours. From behind its walls, Elsa could hear the faint, ringing beat of a hammer striking iron.

“Here we are!” said Skender, putting his hands on his hips and grinning. “Morr’s Seat. Beautiful, yah?”

[RossN]

Jarla, 12th Nachexen

"Probably," Jarla told Hireonymus. "Elsa, that is Frau Holt is not in great standing at the moment. Still, I'll keep my ears open just in case anyone says anything."

[LeSwordfish]

"Brother Schreiber cared for you a lot," Ludo said, a little awkwardly. "He would have thought it an impossible risk to drag you into that kind of situation. Before he met you, he nearly died on the road fighting goblins. His, uh, a woman he cared about a lot called Aisha was nearly killed. One of the soldiers we took into Kheneb died. He... look, I know you'd hate to be treated like a child, but can you imagine how he'd feel if that had happened to you and he'd had to go back to Caerfort and tell them there? Or Bertelis?"

"The world's a plenty dangerous enough place without being dragged further into that. It's fun stories afterwards but..."

Ludo sighed. "I'm sorry. I know what you mean. I was in your position once, and now I've met demons and vampires. I was there when Rorik died, I got the count killed, I watched so many people die... I'm glad it's over now, but I can't say I regret getting up and leaving with the dog two years ago."

[-Sentinel-]

"Always the wind is in the west, these days," said Skender, when Olga complained of the cold. "Where the sun goes to die. Wadim always said, when the wind is in the west, it has death in it."

"Foretelling death is usually a safe bet," said Elsa dryly, her own teeth chattering. "Regardless of which way the wind blows."

She would soon be able to sense for herself if death truly hung in the air.

---

"Here we are!" said Skender, putting his hands on his hips and grinning. "Morr's Seat. Beautiful, yah?"

Elsa could not tell if Skender was being sarcastic, but she found she did rather like the place, even though it was not 'beautiful' by her own standards. It looked more close-knit than the bustling, hurried, cosmopolitan Savonne—the kind of village where people gathered around campfires to sing and tell tales, where children were raised by the entire community, and where a penniless elder might be sought after for their wisdom instead of being hounded by the city watch for begging on the wrong street corner. Magister Lennhoff, a well-traveled wizard from the Bright Order who had been as far north as Norsca and as far east as the Dark Lands, had once told Elsa that the harshest countries often bred the warmest and most hospitable people; she hoped this was true of the Raven Hills.

"It has a unique charm," she acknowledged. "Now, it might be best if I introduced myself to your... um... the one whose word is the most respected around here. Wouldn't want them to think I'm some sort of spy, hiding from them. I'd also like to meet your keeper of Jackal lore. Mirella or something?"


OOC

Spoiler

Show

Is there still a Tilean presence, or have they moved on?

Elsa will also want to know if Arne is here. (Hoping he's not among the bandits killed.)

[LCP]

Ludo, 16th Nachexen

“I didn’t go with him to have adventures,” said Rhadegund, more than a little defensively. “I just… it would have been nice if he remembered we existed.”

She looked towards the door where the last of Ludo’s pupils had departed, her face reddening from her own unbidden sincerity. “It’s good, what you're doing here,” she managed to force out. Karolina’ll be waiting for me, I should go.”

She practically tripped over the broom in her haste to scuttle out of the door.

---

Elsa, 19th Nachexen

Skender gave an expressive shrug. “Good luck,” he said. He looked to Olga. “Small woman! Want a drink?”

“Ranald’s bones, yes,” said Elsa’s bodyguard, rubbing her chilled hands together. Sorin paused, perhaps feeling the urge to be more helpful.

“We are from here,” he said, “but we don’t live here, yah? Want the news in Morr’s Seat, need to find somebody who knows.” He slapped a heavy hand down on Elsa’s shoulder. “They probably want a drink too.”

Sorin and Skender’s drinking den of choice was a long, low building, one street back from the hall with the raven skulls. Inside, the floor was old, reeking rushes, while a small selection of unmarked barrels and pots were stacked up against the back wall. Skender gave something to the host - an old man with lank grey hair and a face like a crumpled sock - and came back with five leather tankards of sour-smelling booze. “Skol!” he said as he passed the first to Olga. “Norscan word, you know? It means, drink.”

There was barely a square foot of the packed-earth walls that didn’t have an iron nail driven into it, and from the nails hung a baffling variety of things - trinkets and souvenirs from all parts of the Reaches, and beyond. Elsa recognised one of the curious, many-eyed carvings from Elmridge, and a pewter tankard with a Dwimmulson clan rune on the side. A few locals were drinking in here already, and Elsa could feel their eyes on her. She thought she heard muttering from a trio of shaggy-haired men in the corner - glancing in their direction, she caught the eye of one looking straight at her, with ugly burns down the left side of his face. He looked away when he saw her looking back.

The host’s name was Marjan, and he at least was willing to answer Elsa’s questions, when Sorin relayed them. The two spoke to each other in a dialect so thick that Elsa could scarcely make it out - the old man had to repeat himself slowly and clearly to be understood.

“The Tileans are the ones in charge here, since they came. Living in the great hall now. Alin is the one who talks to them.” Someone in the corner muttered something that could have been ‘groveller’. Old Marjan ignored them. “No Mirella here, but Miruna, she’’s daughter to Danut, the smith. You can find her at the forge.” He coughed. “No lore-keeper here now, but she listened to the stories, when Wadim told them.”

Olga took a swig from her tankard, and screwed up her face in a look of disgust and surprise. “Is this milk?” she asked.

“Yah!” said Skender, enthusiastically. “Fermented, from goats. You like it?”

“Yeah,” said Olga, in an unconvincing monotone. “It’s great.”

[-Sentinel-]

"Norscan word, you know? It means, drink."

"I'll be sure to remember it," said Elsa. She paused. "Are there a lot of Norscans left?"

Her mood soured when she spotted the man with the burned face. A survivor of the Burning Hill, perhaps? Just wonderful... Yet another town where Elsa would need to watch her back. Good thing she had Olga to help her with that.

She took a sip of the fermented milk and did her best not to make a face. Something of an acquired taste, apparently. She hoped the food in these parts was better than the drink.

"No Mirella here, but Miruna, she's daughter to Danut, the smith. You can find her at the forge."

"Miruna, yes, that was the name. I'll speak to her when I have a chance."


OOC

Spoiler

Show

All in all, perhaps it's better if Elsa stays at the great hall with the soldiers. She'll instead be casting her Inextinguishable Flame at the forge, if Danut allows it, in order to purchase Miruna's time.

[LCP]

Elsa, 19th Nachexen

"Are there a lot of Norscans left?"

“Not now that they caught the Raven’s Cry, I think,” said Sorin. “She was the last one left.”

The two mercenaries and Marjan soon slipped back into their incomprehensible dialect, and once Elsa had finished her drink - or as much of it as she could stomach - she headed back in the direction of the great hall. The sky was darkening, and the winter chill was already numbing her ears and nose when she reached the doors under the wooden raven’s beak.

Inside it was dark and warm, a stone-lined fire-pit in the centre of the floor filling it with the smell of smoke. Long tables down either side of the hall lay mostly empty, a couple of young, wan-faced local women lolling idly on the benches that ran beside them. They turned their heads towards Elsa as she entered, but said nothing.

At the head of the hall was a high-backed throne of old, dark wood, piled high with furs. A grizzled-looking Tilean sat sprawled across it, his square-jawed face set in a habitual frown. He was listening to a man who looked like a local, with a mop of scruffy black hair and the posture of an apologetic mouse.

“...of course, sergeant, but I’m sure if anyone had known that Darja had it, they would have spoken up right away…”

Spotting Elsa’s movement by the door, the soldier gave a curt gesture for the man to stop talking and stood up. He peered through the smoke rising from the fire-pit, trying to get a look at her through the shadows. “Eh! Who’s there?” he called in strongly-accented Reikspiel. “Show yourself! Come forward!”

OOC:

Spoiler

Show

I’d like to play this out a little bit to take the temperature of Elsa’s interaction with the soldiers, but I won’t stop the clock for it - at minimum, they’re not going to turn down her request for accommodation.

---

Backertag, 20th Nachexen - Elsa

The next morning, Elsa made her way to the forge. It was built on the highest point of the outcrop on which the town was built, and from here you could look out over the top of the wooden wall, to the tops of the Raven Hills beyond. Some of the birds that gave the hills their name were circling a little way beyond the town - perhaps they had found a dead animal out there.

The person she was looking for was sitting on the rocks, watching the birds with her legs dangling over the edge. She was a striking-looking girl, with a broad face, pale eyes and pale hair, cropped short above the shoulders. A little way off to her right sat the cold remains of a large fire, ringed about with stones - in among the ashes, Elsa thought she could see the charred ends of bones.

She answered to her name without fear or hesitation, looking up at Elsa with a certain detached curiosity. She couldn’t have been any older than Tatiana, but she seemed far more self-possessed. “What is it you want?” she asked. “My father’s inside.”

[-Sentinel-]

"Not now that they caught the Raven's Cry, I think. She was the last one left."

"Oh?" said Elsa. "What happened to the young blond one? Arne? I've crossed paths with him before. Seemed a decent fellow."

---

Great hall


One look at the great hall gave Elsa a bad feeling about how the Tileans were 'ruling' the place. She preferred not to dwell too much on how they were treating the young women.

"Eh! Who's there? Show yourself! Come forward!"

Elsa rolled her eyes. Give some men a modicum of power and they started thinking of themselves as kings. "Magister Holt," she said in a lazy, unimpressed tone, stepping past the smoke. "I'm here on wizard business. I'll be staying a few days. You Giuliano?"

She spoke Reikspiel, as using Tilean would be sure to make the hill people think of her even more as 'one of them'.

---

20th Nachexen


Elsa inclined her head towards the girl. "Hello. I'm Elsa. I don't need anything forged. I've come to hear the tales of the hill people. Those about their ancient enemy, especially." She was only now aware of how strange her request sounded. "If old Wadim were here, I'd be asking him, but I'm told you're the next best thing. I can make it worth your while..."

[LCP]

Elsa, 19th Nachexen

"What happened to the young blond one? Arne? I've crossed paths with him before. Seemed a decent fellow."

Sorin shrugged. "Don't know," he said. He looked to Marjan, but the old man shrugged too. "Dead, or run off," he said. "Like the others."

Elsa rolled her eyes. Give some men a modicum of power and they started thinking of themselves as kings. "Magister Holt," she said in a lazy, unimpressed tone, stepping past the smoke. "I'm here on wizard business. I'll be staying a few days. You Giuliano?"

The Tilean stood up straighter and snapped his heels together. If he had caught any of Carraciolo's disrespect for Elsa, he wasn't showing it.

"Si," he said. "We weren't expecting you, Magister. Of course, we can make the room for you here." He looked around. "Did you bring guards? Reinforcements?"

---

Elsa, 20th Nachexen

Miruna fixed Elsa with a penetrating look. "You weren't told wrong," she said, without a shred of modesty. "Why does a lowlander want to know?"

[-Sentinel-]

"Don't know. Dead, or run off. Like the others."

"Hmm, shame," said Elsa. The man could have been a useful asset in future conflicts, if the Jackal was indeed still active.

---

"Did you bring guards? Reinforcements?"

"One bodyguard and my apprentice," Elsa answered. "Plus some local muscle who'll likely prefer to find their own roofs to sleep under."

Things were going more smoothly than she had feared.

"How are things here?"

Spoiler

Show

I figure Sorin and Skender wouldn't want to stay under the same roof as the Tileans for fear of being branded as collaborators, but Elsa will still ask them.

---

"Why does a lowlander want to know?"

Elsa sat by the remains of the fire and poked at the charred bones with her staff. "There are some who say the Jackal is destroyed. Sanne Raven's-Cry says that's horsesh!t. I'm here to learn what the hill people know about the Jackal that outsiders don't."

[LCP]

Elsa, 19th Nachexen

Giuliano made an inarticulate grumbling noise at the back of his throat. He scarcely seemed aware he was doing it.

"Under control, Magister," he said. "What, ah - what brings you to Morr's Seat?"

---

Elsa, 20th Nachexen

Miruna seemed to stiffen when Elsa touched the fire. "Don't do that," she said.

She paused, putting her tongue in her cheek as she eyed Elsa up and down. "I don't know who says the Jackal is destroyed," she said, "but they must be very stupid." She got to her feet, brushing the dust from her black wool dress. "And I don't know why you're so curious," she continued, "but you lowlanders ought to learn, you can't buy everything with gold."

With a determined step, she went to go inside.

[-Sentinel-]

"What, ah - what brings you to Morr's Seat?"

"Rumors, mostly," said Elsa, removing her heavy winter clothes to sit down. "I hear there's wolf trouble, for a start. Is there any word of someone... a woman... hanging around the wolves? I heard tales of the sort when they had the same problem in the Thornwood, a few weeks back."

---

Miruna seemed to stiffen when Elsa touched the fire. "Don't do that," she said.

Elsa looked confused, but stopped poking at the bones. She wondered if there was something in them that Miruna did not want her to find.

Surely they're not already going the way of Rivermouth, are they?

"And I don't know why you're so curious," Miruna said, "but you lowlanders ought to learn, you can't buy everything with gold."

"I didn't bring much gold anyway," said Elsa quickly, before the girl could disappear. "But my fire magic can keep your father's forge hot for an entire moon."


OOC

Spoiler

Show

Charm 54: (d100)[6]
Fortune: (d100)[77]

Edit: Or is it more of a Haggle 22 test?

[LCP]

Elsa, 19th Nachexen

"Not that I have heard," said Giuliano. "And not that I'd believe it if I did. These people are all liars, Magister." Something seemed to catch in his throat, and he covered his mouth to cough - a dry, hacking sound. "I hope you didn't come here chasing their stories."

---

Elsa, 20th Nachexen

The girl stopped in the doorway.

"Magic?" she asked.

[-Sentinel-]

"I hope you didn't come here chasing their stories."

"As a matter of fact, I did," replied Elsa without a hint of self-doubt. "Chasing rumors and hearsay has rarely been a complete waste of my time, and time is something I have in plenty since Nath. Also I don't call people liars unless I can understand why they would lie about something."

She shrugged. "We know, at the very least, that one of Nahorek's servants is still at large. If there is any chance she's in the area, it's worth the trip."

---

20th Nachexen


The girl stopped in the doorway.

"Magic?" she asked.

Ah, the word hasn't spread yet that I'm here...

"I'm the wizard," said Elsa. She hoped she was not making a mistake, but it was too late to unsay what she had already said. "I know they're probably telling tales about me, but I assure you, I'm not at war with your people. These past months I've been mostly battling the Jackal's followers."

[LCP]

Elsa, 19th Nachexen

“Magister, you must understand,” said Giuliano, “the people here have made their living stealing from their neighbours. They lie to protect themselves, si? To avoid the punishment.” He gestured vaguely around. “When we come here, they say, no, we have never heard of the bandits. Please, we cannot pay the Prince his taxes, we are so poor. And then we look, and what do we find?” Another rasping cough interrupted his flow. “Scusi - a bag of stolen gold, Magister, as big as your fist.”

He shook his head. “All liars, Magister,” he said. “But if you wish to stay, of course we will make the accommodations.” He looked at her with a questioning eye. “How long is it you will be staying?”

---

Elsa, 20th Nachexen

Miruna’s already-pale face went a little paler. She stayed rooted where she was for a long moment, not sure what to do or say.

“I have heard of you,” she said at last. “You’ve killed a lot of people.”

Reaching behind her, she opened the door, stepping backwards over the threshold so she kept her eyes on Elsa. “We’re fine for charcoal,” she said. “We don’t need any fire magic, thank you.”

With a swift slam, she closed the door behind her.

[-Sentinel-]

"How long is it you will be staying?"

"I don't know yet, but maybe at most three or four days," said Elsa. "Depends on whether I make any progress. I can help with some tasks that don't involve making enemies with the people here. Or cooking or cleaning."

Hopefully I can be out of here before I catch your cough.

---

20th Nachexen


Elsa heaved a sigh, but did not pound on the door or yell, as the last thing she needed was an altercation with an angry blacksmith. She had her chance and she blew it. Words would not fix this... but actions might. She poked at the remains of the fire again, then got up and went to fetch Olga. She needed to go information-gathering, and that might take her to the kind of place where men with burned faces muttered behind her back.

OOC

Spoiler

Show

Elsa will look for info about the wolves, and whether a woman was seen with them. If needed, she will mention Sanne's name and imply that she is only here because of what Sanne told her.

Gossip 44: (d100)[6]
Fortune: (d100)[50]

[LCP]

Elsa, 19th Nachexen

Giuliano nodded. “There are some rooms at the back,” he said, turning to point back behind the wooden throne. “We’ll have one cleared out.” Looking back, he saw the scruffy-haired man still lingering where they had been talking before. “What are you still doing here, Alin? Go on, get out.” He gave a forceful gesture. “Before I kick your arse.”

With a smile and bow, Alin scuttled out. Leading Elsa up past the throne and through a door at the back of the hall, Giuliano showed her the room he was offering. It looked like it was currently in use, and it would certainly need airing, as well as clearing out the soldiers’ gear that currently cluttered up the floor - but it had four walls and a good-sized bed. Presumably it had once belonged to someone in the Jarl’s retinue.

“You need something, Magister, let us know,” said Giuliano. He didn’t sound enthusiastic about it, but he said it anyway. “Anything at all.”

---

Elsa, 20th Nachexen

A cold day wandering the streets of Morr’s Seat didn’t turn up much that Elsa could use. Despite Giuliano’s claims, most of the locals seemed to be working hard at one task or another, and didn’t want to be distracted from their labours. Some were willing to talk a little about the wolves, mostly repeating what she already knew. Mention of Sanne, however, mostly provoked loud and nervous declarations that the person she was questioning hadn’t known anything about the bandits, and if they had, that they would certainly have turned them in.

She saw more than one man sporting burns - some truly hideous - and as the day wore on, she felt the murmurs following her more keenly, making her glad to have Olga to watch her back. As the evening drew in, she returned to Sorin and Skender’s haunt. Even if it meant drinking fermented goat’s milk, someone here might be more willing to talk.

The man Alin was here, talking with a huddle of other men and women who didn’t seem too happy with him. They dispersed when they saw Elsa coming, but Alin didn’t shift from his seat - not seeming at all afraid, he just looked up at her and smiled. “Good to see you, Magister,” he said, his manner simple and friendly. “Wasn’t expecting to see you in here tonight.”

When she told him about her encounter with Miruna, he looked sympathetic. “Ah, she’s a headstrong one,” he said. “Young, you know. The young think they’ve got the world all worked out. You might have more luck talking to her father.” He took a sip of whatever it was he was drinking. “Danut’s a very respected man round here. Dependable.”

When she asked about the wolves, he nodded. “Heard more stories of them lately than I can count. Don’t know if you know, but Morr’s Seat’s not usually this crowded. A lot of friends and cousins from the hills have come to stay inside the walls. Of course, wolves aren’t new in these parts, but the numbers, that’s what’s frightening. Never heard of so many in one pack. If it is one pack.” He plastered on another bright smile. “Still, I’m sure Sergeant Giuliano and the soldiers will deal with them.”

When she asked him about Mala, he frowned and shook his head. “Can’t say I’ve heard anything like that. A woman walking with the wolves, that seems like something you’d notice, for certain. I can give you some names, though, if you want. People who’ve come in from the hills, and say they’ve seen them. Might be they have more to tell.”

[-Sentinel-]

"You need something, Magister, let us know. Anything at all."

"I'll be fine with a roof and some food," said Elsa, not wanting to be a burden. "And with men who are on their good behavior when Tattie is around."

---

20th Nachexen


"Good to see you, Magister. Wasn't expecting to see you in here tonight."

Elsa smiled back and sipped her goat milk, utterly determined to acquire the taste for it even if it took twenty tankards. "I'm here to learn, not shake you down for gold like the Tileans, so you don't have to put on the whole song-and-dance for me. The thing with knowledge is, unlike gold, you can share it with others and still keep the one you have. Best currency there is. When I leave this town, we can both be richer than when I arrived."


"Ah, Miruna's a headstrong one. Young, you know. The young think they've got the world all worked out. You might have more luck talking to her father."

"Maybe I would," Elsa allowed. "But does he know the old tales as well as his daughter does? I've been told Miruna was the one to talk to, if I want to learn the lore of the hills."

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you think she'd speak more openly to a girl her own age? One born and bred in the Reaches?"


"I can give you some names, though, if you want. People who've come in from the hills, and say they've seen them. Might be they have more to tell."

"Yes, I'll take those names," said Elsa. In addition to having seen the wolves, those people were no doubt very determined to see them gone so they could return home, and would be inclined to accept any help that presented itself. "Here, let me pay for your meal."


OOC

Spoiler

Show

If it's late already, it's probably best to wait until tomorrow before asking questions to the wolf refugees.

I hope I'm not holding everyone up too much...

[LCP]

Elsa, 20th Nachexen

"Maybe I would," Elsa allowed. "But does he know the old tales as well as his daughter does? I've been told Miruna was the one to talk to, if I want to learn the lore of the hills."

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you think she'd speak more openly to a girl her own age? One born and bred in the Reaches?"

Alin shrugged. "She might. Meaning no offence, but you've got something of a reputation round here. There's a lot of young men who didn't come from home from the Burning Hill." He sighed. "Probably there's a fair few who think even I shouldn't be talking to you. But I wouldn't write Danut off, either," he said. "Young Miruna's got a keen ear for the old stories, for sure - she was always hanging around old Wadim. But you've got to know the old lore to be the smith in Morr's Seat, even if you don't blab about it so much."

"Yes, I'll take those names," said Elsa. In addition to having seen the wolves, those people were no doubt very determined to see them gone so they could return home, and would be inclined to accept any help that presented itself. "Here, let me pay for your meal."

"Very kind of you," said Alin, with an easy smile. "It's really no trouble, though. Let me see, now... there's Andor and his family, they're staying with his brother, down by the gate. Ionela and young Miska. Moric, Orso... and of course there's poor Darja, but she's in a spot of trouble with the Sergeant. I think the soldiers are still holding her." He gave Elsa a bright smile. "I can take you round tomorrow, if you like. Everyone knows everyone round here."

[-Sentinel-]

"But I wouldn't write Danut off, either. [...] You've got to know the old lore to be the smith in Morr's Seat, even if you don't blab about it so much."

"Worth a try," said Elsa with a shrug. "I'll see him tomorrow." Perhaps her offer of a month-long fire would have better success with the man who actually had to pay for the coal keeping his forge hot.


"I can take you round tomorrow, if you like. Everyone knows everyone round here."

"You can point the houses to me and I'll go myself," Elsa suggested. "It's probably better for you if people don't know you're the one sending me to them."

She had perhaps already made a mistake by associating too openly with the local collaborationist, instead of trying to befriend those who chafed under the Tileans' rule.

[LCP]

Elsa, 20th Nachexen

Alin seemed a little taken aback at the obvious implication, but his face and his tone stayed sunny. “As you wish, Magister,” he said. “Just let me know when you want showing.”

---

Konigstag, 21st Nachexen

The wind was up on Konigstag, and Elsa could taste the fine grit it carried in the air. It seemed to aggravate Giuliano’s cough, which was surely getting worse. The other Tileans under his command went in twos and threes about the town, making their presence felt, but the sergeant stayed largely indoors in the warmth of the Great Hall.

Alin was ready bright and early to show her the houses where the people he’d mentioned were staying. Elsa found them largely as reluctant to talk to her as the rest of the locals, but now she knew their names, and could make it harder for them to slip away. One by one, she heard their accounts.

“Aye, we could hear them howling most nights. Grandfather kept a fire going in the yard, to keep them away. They still took our dog, though and both of our goats.”

“They broke into our sheepfold and scattered our herd. Killed most of them, we think. We had to come back here, after that. There was nothing left for us.”

“We thought we’d find old Bertok here when we found his hut was empty, but no-one’s seen him. If the wolves didn’t take him, it’s only a matter of time ‘til they do take someone.”

Most of them hadn’t seen or heard anything resembling Elsa’s description of Mala. The one exception was Orso, a lean old man with a deep, indistinct voice and a mane of shaggy grey hair.

“Old Mother Hunger,” he said, nodding his head slowly. “I heard they saw her in Donar's Dale, and then again up by the Ram’s Horn. Going about with a great black dog, asking for food and shelter. They say where she goes, the pack has followed after. To punish those who turn her away."

When she had finished with Alin's refugees, she made her way back to the top of the crag, where the sound of ironwork was still ringing from inside the forge. A quiet knock on the door was no use - she had to hammer at it until the literal hammering stopped, and a sooty, spade-bearded giant of a man stopped to open it.

"Yes?" he asked. "How can I help you?"