Tomboys and Troublemakers pt 3

[dojango]

Jasmine was mostly overlooked by the guards (possibly because she'd been napping in the wagon) but she hops out and heads over to the tavern with the others. She follows Bruno over to the witch-hunter and says, "Oh hey, another Imperial! You one of them witch hunters? How ya doing? What's your handle yer goin' by? Always good ta see some proper sorts around ta help deal with stuff, ya know what I mean? Lemme buy you a glass of white wine..."

[wilphe]

Wighard tries to look unconcerned at the prospect of Jasmine getting friendly with a Witchhunter

[bramblefoot]

jasmine: the witch hunter will assent, and let you get her a glass of white wine "as they say, the best wine is free" she jokes, patting the seat across from her. "the company of the burning slug makes its way into mousillon, and i have a package from the hammer. im just here to make sure the company of the burning slug fulfills its oaths"

she passes a wrapped package across the table that clinks as its set on the table. "thats in case you run into any undead or daemons" she says.

wighard: marius will stop playing, and saunter out to the outhouse, strumming a small tune on his lute

[LarsWester]

Finding a suitable table he installs himself in a corner and surveys the room, as the bard finishes he looks as Beatrice

You think you can follow that?

Beatrix gives Wighard a wink and dropping down from her stool she looks to Gimgroth for his permission. The dwarf nods to the girl as he makes his way over to the other dawi at the bar.

Not many Dawi around these parts. It looks if you don't speak the very rocks will shout. Let's share a point and a tale. Gimgroth orders two of whatever passes as beer in this place.

Beatrix had found her way to the stage wearing her brown leather jerkin. The tavern is quite noisy as the patrons are talking during the break in music from Marius. The young lady slips onto the bard's stool and into an impression of Marius himself.
Apologies my patrons I felt a need to be alone and strum my instrument. You see I have a bit of a performance problem. Well I am a bard of some renown so best that I sing and not just blather about it. and Beatrix breaks into an impromptu song mimicing Marius's voice but not his tone. Throughout the performance Beatrix is accentuating the lyrics with bawdy gestures and pantomimes.

In a world where love is wild and free, There's a tale of a man, let me tell you, see, I've got the charm, I've got the wit, But when it comes to action, I just can't commit.

(Chorus) Oh, I've got the humor, I've got the style, But in the bedroom, I just can't make you smile. I'm searching for a cure, but it's out of my reach, Oh, impotence, it's a lesson I must teach.

I crack jokes that'll make you laugh for days, But when it comes to passion, it all goes astray. I try so hard to light that fire, But when the moment comes, my desire expires.

(Chorus) Oh, I've got the humor, I've got the style, But in the bedroom, I just can't make you smile. I'm searching for a cure, but it's out of my reach, Oh, impotence, it's a lesson I must teach.

So let's gather 'round and sing this song, About a man whose love life has gone wrong. Though my body may fail me in this dance, my spirit shines bright with every chance.

(Chorus) Oh, I've got the humor, I've got the style, But in the bedroom, I just can't make you smile. I'm searching for a cure. and then Beatrix ends with a big flourish
Ohhh I'm searching for a cure.

[farothel]

jasmine: the witch hunter will assent, and let you get her a glass of white wine "as they say, the best wine is free" she jokes, patting the seat across from her. "the company of the burning slug makes its way into mousillon, and i have a package from the hammer. im just here to make sure the company of the burning slug fulfills its oaths"

she passes a wrapped package across the table that clinks as its set on the table. "thats in case you run into any undead or daemons" she says.

"We're still on it," Bruno said as she took the package, not opening it in the inn. He would do so later with the others when they had some privacy.
"We've had a few bumps along the road, but you know how that goes. A few things that needed some of our time, but we're here to gain the knowledge of the priests before we head in. The more you know about your enemy, the better it is. And you have my thanks for coming out all this way to bring us this."

[bramblefoot]

gimgroth: Marius returns from the outhouse, catching wind of Beatrix's brazen performance and the subtle jabs aimed at his romantic prowess. A sly grin crosses his face as he approaches her, ready to offer a spirited response.

"Well, Beatrix, it seems my absence has inspired quite the creative endeavor," Marius remarks, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "Let's address the elephant—or should I say, the beardless dwarf—in the room, shall we?"

He takes a moment, then launches into a more assertive rendition:

"In a world where beards once proudly flowed,
There's a dwarf without, and the truth's been sowed.
Beatrix, my friend, your humor's quite grand,
But let's talk about the beard in your dwarven homeland.

(Chorus) Oh, I've got the charm, I've got the might,
In the bedroom or the tavern, I'll set things right.
Your daddy lost his mane, a fate most dire,
But I'll make your heart sing, set it on fire.

I'll serenade you with a tale so bold,
Of a rogue whose love can't be bought or sold.
Beatrix, my dear, your act's quite a show,
But in the end, it's my love that'll grow.

(Chorus) Oh, I've got the charm, I've got the might,
In the bedroom or the tavern, I'll set things right.
Your daddy's without his beard, a loss profound,
But in love's battlefield, I hold my ground.

Marius concludes with a defiant flourish, a challenge gleaming in his eyes. He bows with a touch of theatrical flair, leaving the crowd to decide the winner of this musical duel.

meanwhile, the rest of the patrons seem to be waiting for a response from beatrix, including the witch hunter

[wilphe]

As Marius retaliates, not against Beatrice but against her father Wighard keeps a watchful eye on the dwarf. He is somewhat torn between intervening to stop Gimgroth from responding or letting him do so in the manner to which he is accustomed, in which case a stool to the face would be getting off lightly.

[LarsWester]

Beatrix looks nervously over at Gimgroth as the bard foolishly decides to mock his lost beard. Gimgroth drains his freshly poured beard nods curtly to the other dawi at the bar. Waits for the bard's song to end before standing up from his stool shifting his shield into place along his left arm he takes up his hammer in his left hand. The dwarf looks back up at his adoptive human daughter as her eyes plead with him to stay in his seat and let her handle this matter. The young girl shoves the elf aside as she takes center stage

Marius, Marious, you fool of an elf.
You insult my father instead of myself.
Words of his deeds proceed him everywhere,
The shine of his shield dost produce a glare.

(Chorus) Marius, you boast of might and charm
but anger Gimgroth and come to harm.
Shame and mock him to his wondrous face.
His hammer and shield will put you in place.

So now seems the right time for a shameless plug,
Be warned of crossing the Order of the Burning Slug.
For their might and their valor is greater by far
then any knife-eared bard born under doomed star

(Chorus) Marius, you boast of might and charm
but anger Gimgroth and come to harm.
Shame and mock him to his wondrous face.
His hammer and shield will put you in place.


Once Beatrix started her song Gimgroth started ringing his hammer on his shield to the rhythm.
Beatrix kept her attention during the first verse and chorus focused on Marius. The second verse her attention turned to the patrons of the bar and she gestured that they join in with singing the chorus the second time. When the second chorus ends Beatrix looks over to Gimgroth and notices that the dwarf has a smile on his face.

[wilphe]

Wighard joins in Gimgroth's percussion with his axe on shield, it gets louder and deeper until by the final chorus is not so much heard as felt. The deep bass shaking the building and everyone in it.

His eyes start to noticeably glow brilliant white at this point, but at this instant that hardly matters to him. Gimgroth has stood with him, he shall stand with Gimgroth.

Spoiler: OOC

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(1d100)[95] Channeling 87
Going for Sounds

sounds
Casting Number: 4
Casting Time: Half action
Ingredient: A tiny bell (+1)
Description: You can create a phantom noise with this spell, with
volume ranging from a whisper to a roar. You can choose the
type of noise and the volume; the spell can reproduce any type
of noise but speech. The noise can last for up to one round.

[wilphe]

Spoiler: OOC

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(3d10)[6][10][2](18) -3 TN4

[farothel]

With a last nod to the witch hunter, Bruno took the package and headed back to the table where most of the group were sitting.
"She was a messenger," he said to the others, "package from our friend the Hammer to help us in our quest. I suggest opening it later when we're alone."

As the singing contest started, Bruno went on edge, ready to intervene if there was a need.

[bramblefoot]

marius will smile down at beatrix. "you are good at your bardic works" he says, passing beatrix a small flat wooden token "take a token of performance as a show of my gratitude" with that, he packs up his lute, and will walk out, humming a jaunty marching tune

the token of performance: +10 to a performance singing test. can be used thrice before withering away to nothing

what are the rest of you doing?

wighard: youd spot a small brownie crawling up the wall, and into the mouth of a large stuffed animal head that sits behind the bar. it will wink, and make a come hither motion with a small hand before going inside the stuffed animal

gimgroth: the dwarf will nod "there is a curse that must be broken. the curse affects the forging of weapons, and i have been sent to find where it comes from. two days travel into mousillon lies an old ruin. inside lies danger, and several items that must be destroyed" tell me what items must be destroyed. the dwarf says they are needed to be captured, and then brought back for proper disposal

[MrAbdiel]

Bertelis blinks. The hammering, clattering chorus of the spirited defence of Gimgroth's honor is enough to wake the dead, and he's near enough to be roused by it. For a little while, he blinks away the fog of his inattention, and tracks his eyes to the others in the party. Gimgroth, chatting to another dwarf; Wighard keeping his eyes out and backing the dawi champion up. Bruno and Jasmine across the room, talking to a woman who isn't hiding her dangerous profession... and Regine, here at this table, with him.

He looks down at the half-empty cup of wine in his hand, and then up at the thief again. Has she been disengaged from proceedings as well, or keeping an eye on him?

He musters his strength to engage her, if only to prevent her from gaining the impression that he might be easily stolen from.

"You know Mousillon is our destination, yes...? Are you prepared for such a trek? Have you ever been to a cursed place, ma'amselle?"

[wilphe]

Wighard allows Marius his exit and applauds Beatrice off the stage.

He will of course be checking over that little trinket that he left Beatrice, as well as whatever the witchhunter brought, but not yet. Later. In private.

He turns his attention to where the Brownie went, curious to check out how friendly it really is

Spoiler: OOC

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(1d100)[2] Magical Sense 87


I didn't see anything specific to WFRP Brownies, so I presume they are the mostly benevolent domestic fae of folklore?

Except with Warhammer.

[farothel]

Bruno will have something to drink and to eat until such time as they can get some privacy with the group (probably in one of the group's room) to open the package the witch hunter brought.

[bramblefoot]

wighard: Nestled within a cozy corner of the Laughing Wanderer is a tiny enclosure, hidden behind a curtain of woven leaves and hanging ivy. This enchanting space serves as a haven for a solitary brownie, a diminutive fey creature with mischievous eyes that sparkle like dewdrops on a moonlit night. The air within is alive with the scent of wildflowers and the soft hum of magic.

As you peek inside, you see the brownie meticulously arranging acorn cups and twigs into delicate patterns on a moss-covered table. In the corners, small orbs of light flicker, casting a warm glow over the quaint surroundings. The brownie, dressed in leaves and flower petals, pauses in its work and looks up at you with a knowing twinkle in its eyes.

With a mischievous grin, the brownie speaks, "Ah, the fickle dance of mortals! In the blink of an eye, kingdoms rise and fall, yet their tales echo through the ages like the eternal rustle of leaves. Man's desires shift like the seasons, but the fey, dear visitor, we remain unchanged, guardians of tales spun in the threads of time. So tread softly through the realms of men, for their dreams and follies are but fleeting shadows in the eternal twilight of the fey."

the brownie will come out, and pass you a small acorn. "the fey court has had its eye on you for a while wighard rauchesburg" it titters. "meet me at the old crooked willow tree at midnight. the antlered hunter wishes to speak to you"

bertelis: a messenger arrives, passing you a letter with the seal of the verenan priests "they have requested your presence at the lighthouse alone" the messenger says bowing low "they say they have a possible cure for your ailment, but the cure is dependent on the price you are willing to pay" tell me what the letter says

bruno and the remainder of the party not mentioned: the barkeep will get you set up in the loft of the laughing wanderer. it has enough beds, and a small cozy reading room light by lanterns. the cost is roughly double the usual price for such accommodations, but its well worth the trouble

[dojango]

Jasmine listens politely to the witch hunter and says, "Woulda been nice ta have that afore we left but we're thankful enough for the help. Tell the Hammer we're workin' on it, just everything's fallen down and onta our heads and we are tryin' ta dig our way outta it. We'll be back in the Empire hoistin' a pint with the Hammer afore long though, I jest know it."

[wilphe]

Wighard takes the proffered acorn and sips from it gently and with thanks

"meet me at the old crooked willow tree at midnight. the antlered hunter wishes to speak to you"

Is this inside or outside the walls?

Wighard will ask directions and be certain that he can get there before agreeing

[LarsWester]

gimgroth: the dwarf will nod "there is a curse that must be broken. the curse affects the forging of weapons, and i have been sent to find where it comes from. two days travel into mousillon lies an old ruin. inside lies danger, and several items that must be destroyed" tell me what items must be destroyed. the dwarf says they are needed to be captured, and then brought back for proper disposal

Gimgroth hung his head to reflect the proper amount of dwarven sadness at the tale of a cursed forge incapable of producing any weapons. How long could a Karak suffer under such a curse and persist.
I be a member of a company that has dealt with all manner of foul magics. Tell me more of this curse and what items be needed. How did the forge gain this curse? What items need to be regained and returned? Also I am Gimgroth Grimdurson. The Grimdurson of Trantio have a familial legacy of the forge. With whom do I share the cups?

Well met Gimgroth Grimdurson. I regret not sharing my name before it was asked. I am Hrudim Lodeshield hailing from Khazid Frukund. The curse beset our village last Geheimnisnacht. The forge at Khazid Frukund was tended in chief by twin smiths Kharmraz and Kazgim Sternhearth. During Geheimnisnacht Kharmraz was possessed by an deamon and slew Kazgim with a smithing hammer. The following morning Kharmraz distraught by his murder of his kin took up the Slayer's Oath and left Khazid Frukund. The forge has produced no suitable weapons since. All metal workings become extremely brittle upon quenching and shatter at first contact. Our priests have divined that to break the curse the Hammer of Kin-Slaying must be brought back to the forge and destroyed within. In addition to the hammer there is a shattered crucible that must be remade. It is believed that Kharmraz wears a piece of this crucible on a necklace around his neck. Our priest received a prophetic vision of the death of Kharmraz at the mentioned ruin within Mousilon. If you can return the piece of the crucible and the Hammer of Kinslaying they believe the curse could be lifted and our forge would be servicable again. As the western flank of our people the importance of a working forge at Khazid Frukund can not be understated. Will you aid us
son of the Grimdursons of the forge?


Mousilon be our road anyways. I see no reason not to take up this quest for Khazid Frukund but I will confer with the rest of the company of The Order of the Burning Slug before taking any vows of committment. with that Gimgroth drained his beer and looked for Beatrix. She was working her way around the tavern taking in the patron's encouragement and tips for her talents.

[bramblefoot]

wighard, gimgroth and beatrix

what wighard sees


what gimgroth and beatrix see


The crooked willow tree looms in the shadow of the towering walls of Turris Vigilans, its branches twisted and gnarled, as if bearing witness to countless ages. Beneath its contorted form, the party of Wighard, Gimgroth, and Beatrix finds the enigmatic figure they seek – the purported avatar of Taal.

The old man, hunched and seemingly feeble, stands there leaning on a staff, his cloak tattered and worn. His eyes, though clouded by age, gleam with a profound wisdom. To those attuned to magic, however, a different sight unfolds. The old man straightens, his form elongating into a majestic figure. Antlers, reminiscent of a stag's crown, sprout from his head, and a regal presence emanates from him.

As the party approaches, the avatar of Taal acknowledges them with a nod. "Ah, travelers seeking balance within Turris Vigilans. The city may stand tall, but the roots of corruption run deep beneath its walls," he says, his voice echoing with both age and power.

From the folds of his robes, the avatar produces three crowns woven from delicate flowers, each exuding a faint, ethereal glow. "Wighard, Gimgroth, and Beatrix, wear these crowns, gifts from the spirit of Taal. They shall lend you strength against the shadows that threaten this sacred place."

As the crowns are placed upon their heads, the party feels a surge of energy, a connection to the natural forces that surround the crooked willow tree. Wighard senses the pulse of the earth beneath Turris Vigilans, Gimgroth feels the strength of the ancient tree infusing him, and Beatrix perceives the ebb and flow of magical energies that permeate the air.

The avatar of Taal gazes at them with approval. "You bear the gifts of nature; let them guide you in your quest. Turris Vigilans may need your strength to unearth the hidden tendrils of corruption that threaten its foundation."

With a final nod, the majestic figure fades away, leaving the party standing beneath the crooked willow tree, their heads crowned with the magical flowers. The proximity to Turris Vigilans only intensifies the weight of their mission as they prepare to face the shadows lurking within the city's walls.

wighard: twice a month, but not within two weeks of each other, you can cast rhyas comfort with your magic characteristic

gimgroth: once per day, you can cast stags leap on yourself. the crown has 2 magic dice you can use to cast it

beatrix can see the winds of magic, and can bane or boon them once a day (add +1 to a magic characteristic, or -1 one enemies one)

[wilphe]

Wighard bows slightly upon meeting the avatar

Milord

Deities need handling differently.

With The Family, and especially with Morr, the relationship is familiar yet respectful. An apprentice to a master. a noble lord to a promising servant, an officer to an Emperor. No, more like a junior colleague to a mentor.

Manann. He is the sea itself, powerful, fickle. Always to be treated with respect, always keep your guard up.

Taal. He simply is.

The mountain does not care what you think of it.

To underestimate it is foolish, but it doesn't care for your grovelling either.


Wighard has never had much to do with Taal's cult, though he has spent some time in the wilderness when he was in the Army as an apprentice. He is much more familiar with the followers of Rhya. It was from them he learned much of the business of childbirth for his order teaches that you always have something to learn and that you learn medicine by doing. Not from stuffy textbooks or pedants in Altdorf who don't even know how many teeth women have.+


Thank you milord

As the avatar turns to leave he looks over his shoulder at Odmar as if expecting the avatar to acknowledge him but he does not.

Then he is gone.

Wighard approaches Odmar, who is silent throughout

Odmar he says gently

That, that was beautiful. Thank you for bringing me Wighard. I never thought I would get to see that.

Even.

When I was in the mines

I still hoped

I still prayed

The two hug, Odmar sobbing in a combination of religious joy and the sorrow of skaven slavery

Spoiler: +

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Yes that was a real thing

[MrAbdiel]

Bertelis responds to the summons. Of course he does. How could he not? Though he is, at best, only partly aware of the ailment spoken of. He tips the messenger, and musters the effort to read the letter.

Noble Chevalier,

From the tower above, we bid you greetings. Some in our number are aware of your condition, through certain oracular methods; and it would be profane cruelty not to offer the insight we can. Please attend this evening, if you please.

- Madame La Bonn, Deaconess.

It's a short letter, but its matters are personal, so he is glad they were sparing. When he ascends the grand winding staircase all the way to the tower's top, the deaconess is more forthcoming. The upper chamber if the lighthouse, the one right below the capped roof with the grand white signal fire for naval charting, is a great panopticon with tall windows and balconies fitted with brass telescopes and instruments of measurement. A huge brass orrery featuring a complicated dance of the world, the sun, and the moons as well as certain key constellations and tokens for notable comets dominates the ceiling of the chamber. Priests and priestesses of Verena work here to watch Mousillon, to catalogue and pre-empt its horrors disgorged into the lands beyond, but also to gather knowledge of the stars. Many decades ago, the Fay Enchantress placed a blessing on Verena's sacred flame in the chamber above so that it burns pure white instead of gold; and for reasons unclear to many head-scratching luminaries from other nations, it has caused the light of the tower to cease to interfere with the study of the stars. A handful of the more junior Damsels of the Lady, those with a special interest in celestial magics, work in concert with the Verenans whose interest is more banal and scholarly.

Bertelis is not invited deep into the room; he confers with the Deaconess La Bonn at the top of the stairs, which suits him just fine.

"We prefer not to place our trust in vague prophecies and oracles when we don't have to, Sir Bertelis. But it is a mark of folly, not wisdom, to close one's ears to the gods. You don't want to provoke them to shout."

Bertelis nods along, tiredly. He is adapting to the fame of their adventuring party, and having people know things about him before they meet him. The Deaconess seems to have almost alarmingly intimate knowledge of his psyche; things he has told very few, and in confidence.

"I can offer nothing for the frailty of spirit that afflicts you - that is between you, and your Lady, and your enemy. But quite apart from that, you are a man divided, Sir Bertelis. You are fit to do damage to those who rely on you, if this remains unsolved."

The knight shifts uncomfortably. He doesn't feel divided; he feels like one man each day, as most do. But he does find himself struggling to explain his reasoning from one day to the next. But then, everyone's like that. More so than he is.

"I fear you are mistaken. I am.. troubled, but I live in troubling times. I have many burdens. But my companions are growing erratic; energetic some days, slothful others. If anything, a curse is striking around me at those I travel with - and being companion to them is sometimes more taxing than rewarding."

The Deaconess shakes her head. "You are wrong. You did not throw yourself at Manaan's feet because you were plagued with your internal constancy, Sir Bertelis. You are suffering; your mind is changing day to day, and it is the way you see your friends that is changing. They are not growing energetic - you are waking to find the world too fast, and bitterly bright. They are not becoming slothful - your humours are prone to boiling up and making those with you seem dour by comparison. You are a man in a stained-glass prison, Bertelis; you are forgetting what colour the world is when viewed clearly."

The ring of truth is unmistakable. But oh, he is tired. He can feel it coming up. He can feel... The Ask.

"Don't tell me Verena has a task for me. Please. Please, Deaconess; I have taken so many oaths and bonds and strictures upon myself that I am stretched so thin in the soul..." His voice trails off into a rasp, as he realises he is begging. "I cannot keep adding to it. It must change..."

"No! Change is what's wrong, knight. You have been poisoned by change. You must rally yourself, and you will find yourself strong enough to bear your burdens, and those around you. It is in you to do so; that is why the dark gods have striven so hard to split you into pieces. But they are not the only masters; and not the only ones interested in your Company. Here..."

She presses a bundle of cloth into his hands. "This is the Battle Standard of Eric of Parravon. You know his story? He stood alone and guarded a grail chapel against a daemonic warband until his lancemates could relieve him; and he lived. You have more to give than just your blood and guts! And the world needs it. So here - fly this standard on a lonely hilltop one night, when Morrslieb is full. It will draw the daemons to it - the minions of the Changer. Be ready with your companions; the Changer of Ways is fickle and bitter and evil, and his minions do not like to be reminded of a failure. But if you stand through their attack, and banish the leader of that band just as Eric of Parravon did, I beleive that your whole body - your soul - will profit, and the daemon will take with it the dividedness that plagues you. There, you see? Not such an additional burden. But I would ask, when you settle in Saulx, that you provide a place where Verenans might lodge and study the realm around yours; perhaps even space for a chapel, which you and your knights will defend."

He stands in the doorway, running his fingers through the cloth of the banner, thinking. Another lethal combat; another joust with demons. He needs to dispatch a champion of the Changer anyway, at some point. But can he willingly invite this combat on his allies for the sake of.. what? Some mild moodswings? Which may not even exist?

He tucks the banner away, and resolves to sleep on it. It's possible he will be too proud, or self hating, or distracted, or tired, to bring it up to his companions at all, any time soon.

Of course, he doesn't know that Jasmine might have overheard the whole thing just around the bend of the stairs, and the matter might not be up to him at all.

[dojango]

Jasmine had followed Bertelis and was uncharacteristically quiet on the journey over. Lost in her own thoughts, she handed the door-warden the letter of introduction she had been given so long ago, naming her a Venerean Investigator. In elegant, classical calligraphy it read:

This letter certifies that Jasmine Featherblossom nee Whitehill is to be accorded all the rights and courtesies traditionally afforded to lay initiates of the host temple.

and then below, in different handwriting

Don't let her borrow books!

Introductions made, she hurried after Bertelis and climbed the long and winding stairs. Once Bertelis finishes talking to the deaconess, she tells him, "fightin' tha physical manifestation of change ain't the weirdest cure I ever heard, but then we get a lotta quacks in tha river-trade. And the professor mighta said something similar once as well. I remember once when we was crossin' the river and a big storm came up and while I was fightin' ta get us back on course he apologized ta me. And I said for what? And he said that his mind was so stormy that it brought these troubles upon us. I laughed at him but I think he might agree with what the lady said. If ya can't beat your troubles in yer heart then beat them upside their heads, I reckon."

[wilphe]

Meanwhile on the Sea of Claws:

The knaar Eòrdid is heading north in company with the longship Skuldelev. In the bow are a dozen wet hungry and frightened children trying to get some warmth under the coarse tarpaulin.

Well, most of them are frightened

We just need to keeping praying to Sigmar, he will save us, you'll see. Believe brother

They killed everybody! They will sacrifice us to their horrible gods!

Or work us to death

They might feed us then

Be brave. Trust Sigmar.

Where was Sigmar when they raided our village? He doesn't care about us

You shut up, blasfemer

You don't know what a blasphemer is

I know what ever it is, he's one


There's a slap and the sound of scuffling then one of the crew whacks the tarpaulin heavily with the butt of a spear until they go silent, then keeps going a bit for good measure

Shut up all of you.

The steersman looks at him

Stop that Sven

I'm trying to sleep and no one is going to want to hear them whine in their soft southern tongue. They might as well learn that now, and the sooner they do the more they are worth. This trip hasn't been valuable enough for you to coddle them.

He turns over and tries to go back to sleep.

The shadow attached to the underside of Eòrdid detaches and jets over to the stern of the following Skuldelev.

The first sign that anything might be wrong is when the lookout in the bow of Skuldelev notes her veering off course, not receiving any response to his hail he turns to talk to the steersman.

But he isn't there, the stearing oar hanging loose.

There is a brief moment of disbelief, then he is plucked off his feet and over the side before everything goes dark.

Skuldelev is now under no control and her remaining crew with the instincts of mariners are beginning to stir. They are mostly only half awake as tentacles curl over both sides of the ship to grab them, crush them, throw them into the sea, into the deck or each other.

This does attract the attention of the steersman on Eòrdid, who shouts and kicks awake his crew mates, one of whom is not happy to be disturbed again

I just got off again, this had better be good. What the hell is that Sven reaches for the spear he used earlier but it drops from his hand as he too is grabbed and thrown in a low spin towards Skuldelev so that he actually skips twice before vanishing beneath the waves.

The steersman feels a large voice in his head

TWO AGAIN

THAT'S MY PERSONAL BEST

YOU ARE THE CAPTAIN OF THIS VESSEL?

Y-Y-Yes?

YOU DON'T SOUND VERY SURE

Yes yes he is! the remaining crew are anxious to agree, as it seems they can hear and so can the children

YOU WILL BOARD THAT VESSEL.

YOU WILL TAKE ANYTHING OF VALUE ABOARD THIS ONE

YOU WILL FREE THE CHILDREN AND FEED THEM.

FEED THEM AS WELL AS YOURSELVES.

THEN I SHALL GIVE YOU A COURSE TO STEER

IS THIS UNDERSTOOD?

Yes! Certainly!

I LET YOU LIVE BECAUSE I NEED YOU

AND BECAUSE YOU EXTENDED TO YOUR CAPTIVES SOME TRIFLING CONSIDERATION

YOUR ULTIMATE FATE IS YET TO BE DECIDED

YOUR ENTHUSIASTIC COOPERATION IS A NECESSITY IF YOU WISH TO SURVIVE

See! I told you Sigmar would save us

Caw! Caw!

The helmsman looks up to see a hitherto unnoticed Raven on the yardarm

It leaps off to circle the ship a few times in the company of an albatross before both birds disappear to the south.

[BananaPhone]

Regine Lacroix


Regine's presence had been relatively unseen, as the thief had kept to her own devices. As par for the course with her mercurial nature, she was sometimes present and sometimes not, though she was never treacherous or given to abandoning one of the group when they needed her. Instead, she was more like a cat that snuck in at times and disappeared into the shadows during others, but whom would often return and show a favourable disposition to those in her cotorie. What had the thief been up to? Who knew, to be honest. Few mortals could hide and move within the shadows as well as she could. She was crafty, an adept liar and a skillful gambler. If she couldn't swindle something from someone then she could often acquire it via triumphing in a game of chance and skill, or by planning and executing a heist.

So it was unusual that she would be waiting on the meeting for an aspirant Knight of the Realm. A fit and enduring young fellow who seemed to want to place himself between the world and all of its troubles, so that he could physically take the punishment intended for a nation. In a way it was brave and admirable. In another it was stupid and self-defeating. Regine could never decide which, as her opinion swung back and forth between the two opinions every time she was around the man. All these oaths and pledges were foreign to her, tying oneself, both physically and spiritually, to an obligation that others could lord over you and summon your efforts at the snap of a finger? To never have any peace of mind knowing that you controlled your own fate, rather than merely plodding along between tasks incurred by others pulling your strings? Regine didn't know how he did it, or how he had endured so many. Perhaps that's why he could be so foul-tempered at times? She didn't fancy her disposition would be a verdant field of sunshine if she had all of these expectations heaped upon her by entities that cared little for her wellbeing.

Footsteps from higher within the staircase pulled the thief out of her daydream, as she had found herself leaning against an arrowslit build into the stone wall adjacent to the stairway and peering through it as if to pour her thoughts through and into the beyond. Now, however, she knew Bertelis had returned, as she could hear his boots against the masonry of the footsteps and the chatter of the halfling, Jasmine.

"Find what you were looking for?" Regine's smooth voice would ask once the Knight came around the corner.

[bramblefoot]

Spoiler: a little teaser

Show

In the hidden recesses of Mousillon's gloomy swamps, an ancient evil stirs, its wicked whispers weaving through the mist-laden air. Deep within a dilapidated lair, a flickering, ominous light reveals an eerie scene. In the dim glow of guttering candles, an evil hag, cloaked in tattered robes, hunches over a mystical crystal ball.

The orb, etched with arcane symbols, casts an ethereal glow upon her twisted features. With iron-nailed fingers, she traces patterns through the murky fog within the crystal, her eyes gleaming with an otherworldly knowledge. Shadows dance around her as the swamp hag peers into the crystal's depths, seeing beyond the veil of reality.

As she mutters incantations that echo through the swamp, her minions, distorted creatures of the bog, receive their cryptic orders. Through the crystal ball's gaze, the hag orchestrates a sinister symphony, dispatching her minions with a mere gesture. Their malevolent eyes reflect the ghastly illumination as they vanish into the night, leaving only ripples of darkness in their wake.

The air thickens with a sense of impending doom as the hag's cackling laughter reverberates through the lair. Unbeknownst to the party, the ancient evil has taken notice of their presence. The crystal ball reveals glimpses of their fate, and the hag's malevolent gaze lingers on the unsuspecting adventurers, setting in motion a macabre dance of shadows that will test the very limits of their courage.

bruno: the package contains several glass vials of greenish liquid that bubbles ominously. also inside are what appear to be a pair of stone daggers, elegantly chipped out of flint. they seem to emit a slight glow as the package is opened. a note detailing the daggers follows

the stone daggers: any daemon hit with the dagger must make a wp test at -30 or be dispelled. the daggers are one use only

the daggers are poor quality melee weapons

bertelis: it seems the two female thieves of the party have followed you! What's your opinion of that?

those not posted can do what they wish

[wilphe]

AbitlaterthanMeanwhile on the Sea of Claws:

Eòrdid is heading a few points south of south west

There is an uneasy truce between the children and the five remaining crew who were their former captors.

The knaar sits a little lower in the water with what was salvaged from Skuldelev resting in the bow and the children have moved further aft where it is at least slightly dryer if no warmer.

Any idea where we are going?

No

Doesn't that bother you?

You saw what happened to Sven. I'm going to do whatever it wants unless that's more dangerous than pissing it of

YOU ARE VERY SENSIBLE

Where are you taking us Servant of Sigmar?

YOU HAVE NO KIN

I CANNOT RETURN YOU

WE GO SOMEWHERE SAFE

AND I DO NOT SERVE YOUR SIGMAR

We prayed to Sigmar to save us

You saved us

So Sigmar sent you

The sea on the portside bubbles somewhat and what looks like an organic lantern appears into view, shortly followed by two large beaked octopus heads, all four eyes focus on the girl

DO I LOOK LIKE I SERVE SIGMAR?

The other 16 souls aboard recoil, the girl remains calm, reaches out and strokes one of the tentacles at the rail whilst replying firmly

We prayed to Sigmar to save us

You saved us

So Sigmar sent you

Whether you know it or not

Emma stares at her, she thought she understood humans pretty well, in the depths of their cruelty to each other and the warmth of compassion they can share even in the deepest adversity

Pure innocence and faith though

That's a little outside her understanding

She blinks a few times, then silently jets back into the ocean and her own thoughts

[wilphe]

Wighard will take a look at the bubbling vials

Before Man learnt the gift of metalwork from the dwarves chaos was fought with weapons such as these.

Be careful, few know how to make them now, and even fewer how to enchant them

[farothel]

After unpacking the strange package, Bruno would follow Wighard and the others to the altar of Taal just outside the city. While he wasn't all that religious, wandering in the forests of the Empire made one think about things at times. And Taal was the one to call upon while in the wilds.

[MrAbdiel]

Bertelis is blindsided that he has been followed. He looks embarrassed to have been clearly overheard so directly by Jasmine, though she is not the type to mock his exposed weakness. Invoking Professor Lorrimer helps a little, and he nods in awkward appreciation of her receptiveness, and the implication that she is casually happy to fight daemons for the sake of his mental health. "Well...Perhaps it won't come to that," he suggests in naked denial of his reality.

To immediately round the corner and run into Regine is a shock after recovering from the first. This sneaky companion he chooses to hope heard nothing of his purported lunacy. He holds the banner folded in its linen shroud beneath his arm, and pivots his body to keep it a little further away from Regine by instinct. The motion makes his heel slip, and he almost goes arse over head down the lighthouse stairs; but catches himself. "No. Well... Yes. I-... It remains to be seen. But more importantly, we go into Mousillon tomorrow. Are you prepared for what lies within?"

He shifts the discussion to a pontification about the danger to come instead of anything personal, as he leads off down the stairs. "We are expecting daemonic foes, and vampires, as the least of our quarries within the cursed city. I am told all of the civilization that remains in that place is crowded around the dock, and most of the city proper is given over to waste and darkness. It will be... perhaps, our company's greatest test."