Franz is a little happier now that the dawi, new to the town, seek the council of their elders. "Well, now that we are here, do you either of you know where the Brewmaster is likely to be?"
Franz wants to meet the Brewmaster and sound him out on his desires for the town but feels this is not the best moment for his first meet and greet.
Hah, almost like home, isn't it, Fernis?
Breathing in all the smells of roasting barley and and drying hops, Fernis is silent for a moment. The life of bounty hunter can often take a dwarf far from his karak for periods of time that last the length of a manling life,but today all the bitterness they have faced is erased for but a moment. "Almost, beardling, almost." Looking to Franz he says, "He already knows we are here and will call for us when he has completed whatever craft he is currently engaging in."
It takes only some moments until a bald, red-bearded dwarf with almost square body walks over to you.
Intricate tattoos of clockwork dragons run down his bare arms
Greetings! An' welcome te the Foambearrd Brrewery. I'm Grimbold Anvilheaver an' the foreman herre.
Honorable Grimbold. I am Rangnir Gudrunson of the Morgrim clan. These are Fernis and Mareike of the Stoutanvil clan and this is the honorable warrior Franz Flechter. We come to seek an audience with your master.
Franz nods respectfully when introduced but lets the dawi talk to their own.
Borgun will be most pleased to meet ye. Please, follow me....
the dwarf leads you inside the central workshop and while the noise was already impressive outside, in here it is just terrible...now you get an idea of how it must be like an Imperial steam tank...
Next to the biggest kettle a white-bearded dawrf stands and tastes beer from a magically iced tankard, he nods approvingly and hands the tankard to one of the brewers, then turns to you
....elc...o...bear...ery...m...orgu....eard!
is all you understand over the noise.
Fernis' already restrictive helm blocks any hope of hearing what the white beard says.
Franz bows respectfully to the representative of the dawi community in this town. When he speaks he hears little, so he points to his ears, and spreads his hands wide to indicate he cannot hear the master brewer.
Rangnir bows deeply. He tries to make out the brewers words, failing that he points at the door and waits for the whitebeards reaction.
Borgung shrugs and grins
...oidea...hah!
he follows Ragnir to the large workshop door
Sorry, Oi tend to forget that not everyone is used to read lips! Hah!
Marieke attempts to imitate the bows of the others, the scowls at the white haired dwarf as she tries to hear above the din of the machinery.
She follows the rest out into the relative quiet outside the workshop, shaking her head from the ringing in her ears.
Most honorable master Borgung. I am Rangnir Gudrunson of the Morgrim clan. These are Fernis and Mareike of the Stoutanvil clan and this is the honorable warrior Franz Flechter. We come to you as the representant of the dawi in this city, to bring grim news about dark tides. It looks that the Skaven have not only come to the city are bold enough to show their hideous face in the light of the sun.
Fernis maintains his stoic visage nodding in agreement .
The brewmaster's eyes narrow to slits and you hear a deep grumble coming from his stomach
That is bad news indeed...an' Oi doubt the humans will believe our words... he looks up at the leering visage at the sky and sighs There will be a ball soon...Oi heard the humans are looking for a new lord...Oi think Oi could speak about that matter on that evening...
"Truthfully, Brewmaster, I can assure you that while the lords of the city will be polite, they will not credit such words, especially based on a report of a single glimpse by one man. However, my cousin, Lord Rikkard Asschienberg(sp?) is one of the candidates for the lordship. Indeed I was on errands relating to that matter when... unusual events changed my day. In light of this I could sound out my cousin, he did seem a more than a fair bit concerned with the security of the city. Is there any other matter of concern to the dawi of the city I could bring to his attention? Franz gets down to the noble wheeling and dealing that is the true, abet depressing, blood of the Empire.
Fernis coughs at the sudden input from the young lord and says in hushed voice to Franz, "By all that is holy, boy. Ye can't just say thing like that to eh white beard. I only hope he's taken no offense."
Borgun scratches his chin wih meaty fingers
'twas no dwarf who saw the skaven? Then we can't even be sure it was one of them goddamn breed...humans sometoimes mix up beatmen and skaven...well, no...actually they think all skaven are beastmen...nevermoind...ye tellin' me yer cousin was Rikkard Aschaffenberg? Good...then Oi don't have te persuade him, ye can do that. Oi'll troy te help him become lord of Ubersroik...if you gimme yer word that the dwarfs of this city will not suffer under his rulership.
Mareike walks over to Vern and grabs him by the ear and drags him squawking overto Borgun.
"This useless man saw the beast." she says, releasing Vern's now reddened ear once he was in front of the Dawi elder "Go ahead, tell 'im what you saw, and make sure you show proper respect!"
Franz is about to follow up when Mareike gets overzealous again. "Mareike, release Master Hendrick, he's a gentleman's gentleman in my cousins service. That was rude and unnecessary." Franz nods to the councilor, saying, "That shouldn't be a problem, Councilor, we can talk specifics at a better time." Franz turns to Herr Hendrick, "Just tell it as you saw it Master Hendrick, if you please, and pardon Mareike's manners, she needs a few lessons in proper etiquette."
Fernis nods to his daughter raises a hand to quell the thunder he knows will soon follow Franz's response to Vern's rough treatment. "Easy,lass."
Vern protests and tries to shake Mareike off, but the girl's steely grip is too much for Vern to break. He nearly stumbles right into Borgun and is only able to regain his balance at the last possible moment
Ah...oh...Mr. Foambeard, what I saw looked like a mixture between man and rat, but you're right, I was so shocked by its appearance that I may have mixed up rat, with a different rodent, maybe it was just one of the Ruinous Powers' cruel jokes and it was a hamster beastman...
Borgun looks at Fernis and Vern and arches an eyebrow.
Speaking in Khalzid, Fernis says,"The man is a loyal man, but weak in the stomach. I have no doubt it was a Skaven. We have recently been to one of the manling temples and it is being over run with a sickness. I would think we may be deal with Clan Moulder rats. In my days my Karak I have seen these fiends and killed more than one of their kind on bounty. Even if I were wrong and it were the Ruinous Powers, what difference would it make? I would fear the manlings compromised if this were so and it would be all the worst. We must act or suffer the consequences of our idle hands. The only thing we know for sure is that whatever they are they know we have seen them."Finishing his say he returns to his accented Reiksspiel. "Some things do not translate clearly in your tongue."
Just about to deliver a blistering rebuttal to Franz' scolding, Mareike subsides with Fernis' words, crossing her arms across her chest and frowning at the ground as she listens to Vern's accounting of what he saw.
Rangnir just nods and reminds himself to ask Fernis to tell him, who has only fleeting knowledge of the subject, and the humans who don't seem to know about the skaven at all, about hie encounters with the ratkin.
Borgun nods to Fernis and replies in Khalzid
It would make a big difference...a call to arms against the forces of Chaos is something that is easily followed boy the people of the Empire...Skaven on the other hand are made of the fabric of myth in their oyes...Oi will speak to this Rikkard Aschaffenberg...tell his cousin that Rikkard can find me here.
"As you wish, long beard.", Fernis nods his head and addresses Franz, "Yer cousin is encouraged te come here, Franz. The white beard looks forward to speaking with him."
Franz nods, turns to the Dwarven elder with a bow, "Thank you for the invitation, I'll speak to him soon. Until then, the blessing of your gods and of Sigmar, Dwarf-friend, upon you and yours, Councilor and Brewmaster Borgun of Clan Foambeard." Franz prepares for a formal withdrawal, but gives a moment in case anyone has anything else to add.
Fernis purses his lips in approval at the manling's sense of propriety.
Borgun nods and smiles, obviously Franz has hit the right chord.
As soon as you have brought some distance between you and the brewery, Vern sighs audibly and scratches his head
Alas, Hadn't I seen the monstrous vermin, we wouldn't have to go through this ordeal...there's so much work to do...the ball you know, a fitting costume and...oh wait! Maybe it was just someone wearing a costume????
That is youe cue, Fernis. While I have heard about the Skaven and of course about our warriors campaigns against them, you have actually seen and fought them. It would be for the best if you could tell us about your experiences so we might be better prepared!
Oh yeah, I like to hear a tale about Fernis's past.
'The greybeards seemed to know what we faced immediately. They told us of ratmen who came through vents to the upper chambers two centuries prior and struck a great battle in our lower forges." Fernis' eyes tighten into a scowl as he remembers the tale,[/b]"They came with bizarre weapons and ratmen of immense size we came to call rat ogres, retched creatures fed warp stone and riveted together. Were it not for our clan's experience with these fiends the defenses would not have been in place to repel them, killing them nearly to the rat."[/b]
"Being beardlings excitement filled the void prudence should have occupied. We did not understand the skaven were far more dangerous than we could have ever understood. We pushed to investigate these tunnels and though they refused at first, we won them over with our bravado. Sending a runner to inform the hold of our findings, the rest of us entered the tunnels. The smell was overwhelming. The musky stink of a river animal and oil smoothness of constant rubbing filled the burrow. Moving along in near silence communicating with hand signals, followed increasingly awful mewling noise."
With face set as if witnessing his story again, Fernis continues on,"There was chamber ahead. A massive one. Lit green by some light and the sound of machinery mixed that horrid mewling.....What we saw was can only be described as sickening. Pits dotted the room and in each was disgusting mound of hairless flesh and teets with a face that might pass something like a rodent. Pink ratlings the size of dog crawled and clawed at one another in an effort to feed. We set upon them in a fury of ancestral pride as our quarrelers destroyed what we later would call the brood mothers the younger warriors waded in with axe, pick and hammer rending and smashing pinks.
"In our frenzy we failed to notice the first clan rats had poured in behind us forcing the greybeards into a defensive action at the mouth the tunnel from which we had entered. As we finished our grisly work we lost our joyful mirth when the vision of battle filled our eyes and ears. Quickly we joined the fray, superior tactics holding the line as they have centuries against our massed foes. That is till the rat ogre came crashing through the clan rats. They scrambled to avoid it, but it crushed them beneath its feet in a rabid desire to get to us. Several of our number fell in the initial contact, but we held."
"Not willing to be the last to engage the beast, I rushed in landing a fearsome blow upon one its thick tendons. The monster toppled like a great tree."Taking a breath he says,"To my horror was unable to avoid its mass in such cramped conditions and was pinned beneath it. Untold rage filled its eyes as it snapped its massive maw at my face. Only the small bit of gromil alloy saved my head from being pierced by that tooth. Seeing me fall beneath the ogre, my father's brother and son rushed to my aid smashing its head between their hammers. Even as we began to rejoice a sucking sound filled the chamber just before a roar of green flame engulfed my kin and the better part of the ogre I still lie beneath."
"Horror gripped me at the sight of my burning loved ones. Filled the rage of Grungi. I freed myself of the rodent prison and taking the scarred hammer and shield of my uncle and cousin crashed headlong toward two these rats holding a bizarre weapon which spit the green flame. The saw too late to make use of it as my hammer crushed the gunner's head with such force its eyes rocketed from its skull. The reverse swing crushed the other even as it sprayed a musk they spray when filled with fear, but ignited a blast which flung me several yards. That blast chased the rest into the waiting arms of our reinforcements."
Looking around, he says[/b]"I tell you now, look upon my shield, hammer,and helm. Tell me these ratmen are simple creations of chaos. I think you will find yourself food for the brood mothers or worse if believe this path of reasoning for even a minute!"[/b]
Rangnirs face turns ashen with compassion for the older dwarf. Trying desperatly not to shame him or his friend, no single feature in his face, besides the color, betrays his feelings as he places his hand on Fernis shoulder for a few seconds.
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I know where you got your inspiration for that scene from :)
Vern seems shocked and simultaneously incredulous
Urgh...I doubt such thing can ever leave the darkness of the world underneath the world...and should they dare, men like Franz here or Lord Rikkard will show them that they rightly belong into the depths from which they came...Herr Flechter, we need a moment to coordinate, as far as I have understood you, you will now go to Lord Rikkard, but what about the rest of us? I still have all my hands full with preparations for the ball.
Mareike listens to Fernis' tale with wide gleaming eyes, avidly taking in each detail, her face almost glazed over in appearance as she plays the scene over in her head, but replacing Fernis with herself, destroying the evil ratmen in the name of Sigmar!
With a start, she realizes that Fernis has ended his tale and was giving her an odd look. Giving him a weak smile she hears Vern complaining again and turns towards him with a scowl; refraining with great effort from admonishing the man.
Rolling her eyes she thinks "A Ball! We have darkness all around and all he can think of is a dance for idiots?"
Is that the ball Master Foambeard has been talking about? Is it true that it has something to do with the city looking for a new lord?
Oh yes, Baron Manfred von Holzenauer will be the host...and Lord Rikkard believes he only does it to impress the Burgher's council...actually Lord Rikkard says that von Holzenauer is as poor as a church mouse and that Ubersreik is his last and only chance to rise in the Empire's nobility again.
Vern explains while pushing through the crowd at Ubersreik's central square.
Could the Skaven have a chance to strike at that party? It seems they would be devious enough to know that would be the time to behead the city and possibly most of the Reiksland!
Fernis contemplates the ball for long moment, then says,"Will there be any cellars below this manner?"
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Franz listens to the incredulous tale, then begins to consider the possible truths in it. He doesn't like the implications of it. "If the Skaven are so organized and powerful and so good at being secret, then striking anywhere should not be difficult. The men of the Empire are good at warfare but surprise is a powerful advantage, if they could succeed at that then much mischief could be done. It would not be easy though, there are plots enough in the empire to have wary guards."
"Behead the city and greatly weaken it's defense, I'm sure. The Reiksland itself, not a chance. This is a minor, okay, medium tradestown on the Empire's border. The Imperial court will not be there, I'm very sure. Actually will any non-local dignitary of import, Master Hendrik, be present at this affair?"
"Cellar, or sewers or wells, something will be there. Usually barred, though, undermining is an old art of war. Still I doubt they'd be expecting trouble usually, but this moon has everyone on edge."
"Yes I will return to the manor to talk with my cousin, tomorrow I hope to see another cousin of mine to get a better feel for this town. When exactly is the ball, I'm thinking I've little time to learn much."
Remember, their most devious weapons are plague and poison. They might not need to strike at the ball itself to do their damage there!
"Indeed,indeed."
Frowning at all of this talk of Balls and more talking, she brightens a bit at the talk of possible strategy.
"If the beasties aim is to infect, wouldn't the food and drink for the ball be a target?" she asks confidently to hide her uncertainty in the face of her adoptive kin.
You got my meaning, girl. Who would oversee the cooking, who the deliveries? Where could a sneaky enemy get close to food or drink to be served at the ball?
Well that would be the von Holzenauer staff., but I doubt that Baron manfred or his subordinates are very interested in helping once they hear HErr Flechter is Lord Rikkards cousin...
Vern says with raised eyebrows.
Then we should see if there is a chance to watch the foodstuff ourselfs.
"Well, that would mean getting invited, your counselor should be able to do that for you though. My cousin will be invited, just not done otherwise, I might be in my own right, or, more likely be his guest. Yes, I'm afraid that any suggestion on my part that any trouble would arise at such an event would be taken as an insult. And say Skavan and you'll be labeled a lunatic, if very quietly. For a large party, there will be many vendors involved, I'd say the product of a Brewmaster would be featured, the more expensive the better."
Franz puzzles over the problem while he shoves some dark thoughts in the back of his mind. Only Vern saw this creature, my cousin isn't that subtle is he... nah, that can't be it. Franz keeps these thoughts far in the back of his mind.