Of Battle, Wolves and Winter.

Game Master GM Drachenfels

LUTKE:

Groaning, Lutke pulls himself to his feet and approaches the bleeding Caspar who looks up at Lutke with sad eyes, so very sad.

What you fail to realize, Lutke, is that Caspar is shaking his head: No, No, Please, No! but you overlook this subtle clue in your well meaning attempt to restore him from the shores of death.

Reaching into your kit for the proper tools, you produce them and give Caspar an understanding smile. Here in the cold snow, alone, you can now properly unlock Caspar and discover what truly makes him tick ~ tock ~ tick ~ tock ~ like a lock...or a clock...or a strange old box?

The 'Eye of the Raven' descends behind you so that while we can see the shoulders of Lutke and his hands feverishly working, we cannot quite make out exactly what he's doing. There! Caspar's hand flops over to the side in view of 'the Raven', twitching and grasping at air. A strangled cry of woe, or is it pleasure?

"Yes, yes," you think, twisting the xylophange slightly. It lets out a strange harmonic discharge! That's not right. You gasp! You had forgotten to depress the trivector! "Ah yes, that's fixed it. Perfect..." you purr.

There is a sickly squirt of blood from what might be Caspar's jugular. Ut oh you think. Did anyone see that? Nope! No one seems to be paying close attention except...Albrecht.

Albrecht must know what Lutke was just doing...but no recrimination or accusation is in his eyes. Such serious eyes.

And then, just like that, Caspar has at last been finally and totally unlocked. With a final gasp, the young minstrel dies in the snow, his heart filled with a courage no one ever understood.

Lutke, you look towards Albrecht and then 'The Raven'. Yes, like the others...you blink.

CASPAR: You avoided death several times, and despite the best efforts of Njord and Gretta (and my own), your death has come by the hands of Lutke. -1 FATE POINT!

LUTKE: +1 Insanity I think is fitting. That being said, describe what happens as 'Fate Intervenes' and saves the life of Caspar.

After 'hinkering' (heal + tinker) for many minutes, Lutke feels proud at his masterpiece reconstruction of Caspar's wounds. To his horror, Caspar dies. Lutke can hear the cackle of the Architect as Caspar's soul is plucked from his body and consumed in the void of Chaos. A spiritual scream of everlasting torment echoes across the face of the world as Caspar is ripped apart and remade.

The tools fall limply from Lutke's hand, the cry echoing through his head. He feels a hand on his shoulder, Albrecht is looking at him. Such serious eyes. Flames dance in them, burning and burning. The light of them fills Lutke's vision and the world goes orange and red.

Lutke's vision returns and he is still looking at Albrecht. But he feels the tools in his hands. He looks down. Caspar is alive and looking at him with fear and those sad, sad eyes. Lutke had not yet begun his work. The vision was of what would happen if he did. He hadn't killed Caspar after all!. For the second first time, the tools fall from Lutke's limp fingers. He's in such a haze from his own pain, he never realized the damage he was doing or had been about to do.

Gretta helps Caspar up while Albrecht brings Lutke to his feet. Albrecht looks at Lutke again, a curious expression on his face. Suddenly Lutke can feel it. Even though Albrecht is holding it, Lutke can sense it. The hag's stone. It was pulsing with magical energy. Somehow it had given Lutke this terrible moment then taken it back. A hairline fracture in Lutke's mind is formed. He would never forget that scream of torment escaping Caspar's soul. Even knowing it had never happened, Lutke knew he was changed yet again. The stone had changed things again. But at what cost. Lutke shuddered and moved with the other three into the tunnel.

But wait! Njord! Loop back to previous post.

Sharing an entirely too unsettling moment with Lutke Albrecht speaks.

"Let's get him in the tunnel. We should not be out here much longer."

Loop with Lutke INTO THE PAAAAAAAAAST

"Lutke, you're not much of a healer, I'd recommend you get the proper tools if you wish to keep trying."

Albrecht looks at Njords wounds.

"It's best we bring him inside too. I doubt there is much we can do for him."

Albrecht helps Lutke pull him inside as well. Albrecht only hopes the foul magic out in the Wind doesn't wake Njord too.

'Hinkering' = Brilliant. I laughed. You two have really stolen the show the past few updates. I'm really feeling like I'm reading some epic Warhammer novel! As such, +5 xp to Albrecht and Lutke. Keep up the fun updates, comrades!

I really like how the hag's stone is being played into the story, and the strange relationship Lutke and Albrecht are developing because of it. It'll be interesting to see where this goes. Perhaps it shall lead us INTO THE PAAAAAAAAAST?! *grin*

I hope Lackey and Caspar can get in some updates soon! And it's always fun to hear from the Dwarves who've had some very memorable scenes thus far.

Lackey grabs the little messenger and shoves him under his legs, "Get yur ass movin lil man, and bring me back some ale."It dawns on Lackey Lucas called him corproal he grins broadly,"Me likes my premonition, never though I could get a premonition or whatever it's called.".

I think it's safe to say that we all know what's going to happen next. You'll be escorted to Wolfenburg and questioned, and from there (after you've taken your rest) the 2nd act of our tale will begin. Therefore, I'll take this weekend to setup Wolfenburg, write up a few introductions and prepare for the coming week when everyone resumes posting.

SWEET! Good job Gabe. Great decision ;)

Time passes as our group of struggling heroes at last make it to the 'safety' of Wolfenburg, only to discover a city under siege where doom is quickly closing in. Desperate for reinforcements, Commander Nulner and his staff question you for any information that may lead them out of the terrible mess they find themselves in.

In the short time you've been stationed here, recovering from your wounds and awaiting further orders (oh, you didn't forget you're soldiers of the Empire did you?), you've learned a great many things as well:

* The grand Capital of Ostland, Wolfenburg, is named after Wolfgart Krieger, who was appointed by Sigmar to defend his realm against all kinds of magic. Wolfgart is the founder of the Order of the Silver Hammer, known commonly at the Witch Hunters. What the people of Wolfenburg wouldn't do for Wolfgart Kriegers return now...

* The city is a testimony of the true power of Chaos. While the Empire still holds the south west districts, the rest of the city across the Riven Wulfen has become a vast and terrible maze of shattered buildings, burning ruins and unholy things that lurk in the shadows. Dubbed "No Mans Land", the fallen districts of this once great Capital are a nightmare come to life.

* Rumors from the North are grim. There are stories that Morrslieb wept tears that struck the cities of Praag and Erengrad. The fate of those cities is unknown, but the common fear is that they have been all but destroyed!

* There is a huge surge of Kurgan activity that seems to be centered around the Middle Mountains. Some of Wolfenburg's Generals suggest that there may be some unknown hidden tunnel or "witch-gate" in the mountains linking the Northern Wastes with the heart of the Empire.

* The current Elector Count of Ostland, Valmir von Raukov, has a reputation as a hardened and courageous warlord who continually hunts the enemies of The Empire. When the city of Wolfenburg was under threat, he rode out with his finest men to meet the enemy. His forces were devastated and forced to retreat. Since then, Count Valmir von Raukov has "gone to get help", leaving the city in the hands of Commander Nulner. No one has seen the Count since.

* It is a shared feeling among the rank and file that it's just a matter of weeks (if not days) until Wolfenburg falls.

* The main focus of fighting has been the Great Wolfenburg Bridge, which spans the aptly named River Wulfen and separates the city into two vital parts. The river is very deep and very fast moving. The only viable crossing point withing 100 miles for the forces of Chaos is the Wolfenburg Bridge.

* War and strife are not the only hardships. Hunger, disease and the terrible cold of Ulric's winter are constant struggles for the soldiers here. And then there's the recent problem with the dead not staying dead. The soldiers mutter that some dark Chaos magic must be at work, and that the strange lights in the night sky are a sign from the heavens that the God of Death is displeased. Whatever the case, the recent scourge of undead has been another horrific hardship that has nearly broken the back of the defenders.

It is into this situation you march. Here, in this dark hour, you'll gather and await your orders. Will you stand your ground against the ruthless forces of Chaos? And if so, will any remember your courageous acts of valor?

Only time will tell.

There's our intro for the 2nd act! It should give you lots of vital facts. I have some fun ideas on getting each of your characters involved in their own unique ways with the war effort. I should also have some descriptive challenges available to undertake as well. I'll be posting all this and more soon!

KRAK/BOOM:

"It's most fortunate that you arrived when you did," Commander Nulner continues, midway through your debriefing. "Though you are not the full contingent of support we are hoping for, I think there is something you can do for us."

Here in the main tap room of 'The Bloated Dragon', Commander Nulner has transformed the once jovial inn into a war-room. Tables are covered with reports and parchments, the walls lined with colorful maps of the city itself, the various districts outlined or crossed out. It is from here that the campaign to save the capital of Ostland has been fought.

"The only thing truly standing in the way of us being completely overrun is our cannon. The six heavy batteries we have were gifts from Nuln, given to Wolfenburg in the great trade agreement of 2010. But that's a story for another time."

Commander Nulner stops on his heel, wheeling about in such a way that his long battle stained field cloak swirls around his high black boots.

"Of the six guns, only four are now operating. The other two have malfunctioned and our engineers are at a loss as to why. Tell me, Brother Stonefist and Herr Blackfoot, can you bring the considerable craft of your people to bare and get those two guns working?"

The dark eyes of Commander Nulner come to rest evenly on the both of you. Standing with his hands behind his back, the Commander heaves the question into your laps, hope and expectation on his dour face.

KRAK/BOOM: This is an extended descriptive challenge. Using all appropriate skills and talents (make appropriate rolls/skill checks), describe what malfunction has fowled up the workings of the Imperial Cannon and what you do to attempt to fix the problem. This is an open xp challenge.

LUTKE:

"Herr Geshburger, I'm beginning to think the arrival of you and your cohorts was a gift from Sigmar himself. Tell me sir, are you a religious man? Do you obey the strictures of Sigmar?"

Commander Nulner listens carefully to your reply, then continues, pacing the long hall of The Bloated Dragon slowly.

"In one of our more daring counter attacks, we staged an assault deep into No Man's Land. That's what we call the part of the city the Kurgan now control."

The Commander seems to choke on his words as if they were venom, then continues.

"Anyhow, we lost many good men but the attack wasn't in vain. We manged to secure a prisoner. A Chaos Champion by the looks of it. My Farseer tells me he's aligned with the Architect of Fate, whatever that means. In truth, I've never made much of a study of the Chaos Gods. To look too deep into the eyes of the enemy is to become your enemy."

It is here Commander Nulner seems to peer into you as if looking for imperfections. Mercifully, he seems to find none. With a nod of his head, he continues.

"We've been forced to keep this Champion under constant guard. I've assigned some of my best men to stand watch, men who I'd rather have on the front lines. You see, no lock or cage seems capable of holding this infidel. There's something strange about him. We need this man restrained! Only then can we properly question him and glean whatever information he has."

Nulner pauses, turning once again to face you. His cool black eyes seem to be sizing you up.

"I hear you're something of an expert when it comes to locks. Can you do this?"

LUTKE: This is an extended descriptive challenge. Using all appropriate skills and talents (make appropriate rolls/skill checks), describe what type of lock or shackle you build/construct that would be capable of holding a man, a champion, who seems somehow immune from such things. This is an open xp challenge.

ALBRECHT:

"It is not often we see many with your talents here in Wolfenburg, Magister Baer. We are far from the great Capital of Altdorf and the illustrious schools of magic. How is it a man of your stature came to be conscripted in the standard army?"

Commander Nulner seems to half listen to your tale, pouring over maps and papers as you speak. As you finish your explanation, he looks up, his fists planted firmly on the table in front of him.

"We have need of your special skills and abilities, Magister. My Imperial Farseer, Nicodemus, is hard pressed making preparations to defend against an imminent enemy attack."

The Commander pauses, looking down and then abruptly snaps his gaze back to yours.

"Daemons," he says at last. "Daemons of the Blood God he tells me. They are massing and preparing to stage an assault. I've ordered every able bodied man to defend the bridge, but I fear it won't be enough. We need men of your caliber and insight as well. Will you assist us?"

ALBRECHT: This is an extended descriptive challenge. Using all appropriate skills and talents (make appropriate rolls/skill checks), describe what you do to assist Farseer Nicodemus in preparing the defenses of Wolfenburg against demonic attack. This is an open xp challenge.

ALBRECHT:

A blind shambling older man with a strangely serene smile waddles from the shadows. You hadn't seen him until now, not even with your witch-sight!

"Ahhhhh, this is a pleasure!" he says, bowing slightly. "It has been many moons since I've had the honor of spending any time at all with a Brother of the Flame."

The man, who you presume must be Farseer Nicodemus, waddles forward and extends his hand, touching your face!

"Oh, yes...yes, I see." He mutters, "Indeed, agreed! The great winds do indeed twist on an axis. The vestibule of change is strong indeed!"

You blink. THIS is the Farseer? You may have your work cut out for you.

LUCAS:

"You're not going to like this, Lucas. I'm promoting you to Captain."

Oh, Gods... you think. Why now? While certainly a great honor, you can't help but feel the hangman's noose on your neck. The previous two men your Commander how promoted met with ghastly ends worthy of even the grittiest Altdorf play.

You think you sputter out something along the lines of "Sir, thank you sir..." as Commander Nulner continues.

"And you're not going to like your mission much either." Commander Nulner pauses, then with a stern stamp of authority continues. "Captain Biedelmann..."

You snap to attention at being addressed by your new rank.

"...we need to silence that dreaded Hellcannon once and for all. Once these new reinforcements complete the tasks I've assigned them, I want you to whip them into shape and prepare them for a covert mission to enter No Man's Land, find that Hellcannon, and destroy it!"

Oh Gods... you think again.

"And bring that trouble maker, Corporal Lackmeister with you."

Great, just great.

I have more of these updates to make for a few other characters, notably Caspar (for his exit story) as well as Lackey. I should have them up and ready to go sometime tonight.

FOR CASPAR, A FAREWELL:

One by one you make your way to the old Wolfenburg orphanage, a sad building now turned over to the last remaining Sisters of Shallyah as a hospice for the care of the wounded and dying. It is to this grim place that you've come to pay what may be your final respects to one of your own.

You walk in silence down the somber narrow hallways, moving like ghosts past rooms filled with those who's days are numbered. White sheets wither and dance on an unseen wind as you pass.

Soon you arrive at a large room filled with cots and makeshift straw beds. At the far side of this room is a figure, curled and slumped, his back to each of you as he stares unblinking at a nearby wall. Next to him sits a woman dressed in the cool white habits of an initiate of Shallyah.

"Thank you all for coming," she says, a familiar smile appearing beneath the white cowl. "I know it's what he would have wanted. I'm not sure he's really with us anymore, but the least we can do is try."

The woman pulls back her cowl and you see Gretta in the initiate before you!

"Yes, I thought it best. I have...troubles. And I think there might be no better way to help myself than by trying to help others. I thought I'd start with him."

You see Gretta rest her hand across the shoulder of Caspar, gently stroking his cheek. The young bard is frozen, his eyes fixed, starting...straring...staring, never speaking. Not anymore.

Upon seeing your shocked looks by her sudden reversal of career, Gretta laughs.

"Oh, you remember Lieutenant Biedelmann?" she asks. "I really must give him credit. I was lost. This was his idea. Now I'm found. In the arms of Shallyah I think I might find at least some peace."

Until Wolfenburg is totally overrun and you're raped and murdered. Or worse! you think. You shake your head to be free of such grim thoughts.

"Anyhow, I really think it's best we let him rest. All this excitement has been too much for him today. Say goodbye, Caspar."

In silence Caspar ignores Gretta's comments, his eyes fixed on a loosely hung portrait on the wall nearby. On it is painted a man dressed in gray and white. Behind him the sun is shining and the sky is clear. In his hands he holds a red lute and he's playing! The music must be beautiful. Women are dancing and children are laughing!

An invisible tear runs down Caspar's cheek as the Eye of the Raven averts its gaze and the scene goes dark...

LACKEY:

The shouts and cheers from the streets spoke volumes. The men were playing Snotball again and it was all Corporal Lackminister's fault...

"I'd shut that nonsense down right now if it wasn't so damn good for morale," Commander Nulner snaps, turning his attention back to his new Captain. Just then a quivering, half-dead, tied and naked snotball crashes through the window, bouncing across a table filled with maps until at last landing in the fire!

There is a loud muffled yelp followed by a pop as the Snotball explodes. A group of puffing, sweating men hit the door at top speed and slide to a stop the moment they realize who's door they are about to enter. With eyes gone wide with terror, they stare at Commander Nulner who turns slowly towards each of them.

"Sir, sorry sir!" they snap in unison, their battle worn Wolfenburg uniforms in sorry shape from the impromptu snotball game.

"LACKMASTER?! GET IN HERE! NOW!" Commander Nulner howls as the men fall back into the street as if running for their lives. A moment later the worlds largest man shambles into the room. His flat face speaks volumes as he bends down low to enter The Bloated Dragon, casting a pathetic salute into the air before turning his burning gaze on his Commander and Captain.

"From the first day you signed on with us," the Commander begins, "You've been nothing but a headache for me. You have no respect for command, you're constantly fighting and you have the brains of a Bretonnian's dung-herder!"

Lackey Gunterman couldn't help but smile. He especially liked the dung-herder reference.

"Still," Commander Nulner continues, "The men love you. That alone counts for something. And so, I've finally found a purpose for you."

A brief hangman's moment of silence and then...

"Corporal Gunterman!" the Commander barks. "If you insist on playing Snotball with these men off duty, then you best make a damn good showing of it! I'm talking about order and organization. I want uniforms. I want a play book. And I want a winning team. You will single handily whip these men into shape and prepare them for the games."

A smile begins to form on the large lips of Corporal Gunterman.

"In the unlikely event we actually survive this Gods forsaken mess," Nulner continues, "I want something to look forward to. You will build me a Championship Team, Corporal. I don't care how you do it, but get it done!"

Lucas Biedelmann couldn't believe his ears. Watching the exchange, he looked from his Commander to the giant of a man, and back again.

"Oh, and you have one week. After which you'll report to Captain Biedelmann for a covert mission into No Man's Land. That is all. Dismissed!"

Turning without a word, Lackey stumps off into the street. In the shadows his fellow snotballers watch with wide eyes, alert and ready to make a dash for safety at a moments notice.

"Oi den men," Gunterman begins, "We gotz work ta do!"

Inside the tavern turned war-room, Captain Biedelmann turns to Commander Nulner is shocked disbelief. After a long moment, the amused Commander speaks.

"What? I've always wanted my own team and a man must look beyond his current station. Marcus Nulner, owner of the Crown Champion Wolfenburg Warriors!"

"Very good, sir." Captain Biedelmann says, frowning deeply.

"Now, let's go over those plans you've drawn up for the Hellcannon assault. Show me what you have in mind."

LACKEY: This is an extended descriptive challenge. Using all appropriate skills and talents (make appropriate rolls/skill checks), describe what you do to whip a ragtag band of Imperial soldiers into the worlds finest snotball team. Describe team uniforms, tactics and strategies. This is an open xp challenge.

Lackey begins to motivate the rabble he was given, But seeing the men be bins a stirring tirade.1d100 ⇒ 77vs 28Fel The men seems very Gung-ho. But what happens after the speach is whats really intresting. Lackey had gone away from the camp to take care of personal business he dissapears.

You really just rolled a 77? Oh wow, this is going to be a very interesting game.

"We here for days, been in position for many sunrises. Today the Umans be wasting time playin a games intrestin, it's not killin or winnin battles. Waiting for our kill on the Commander Nulner. Then we sees the new Uman a giant, from what he speaks must be supreme commander his words make more sense to me and my group than anything we hear before we must get him." more to come.

A bit confused about the direction your taking things, Lackey. Perhaps give me some more information in the DISCUSSION thread so I can properly play off of what you're working on?

Bleary eyed and swaying upon his chair, Krak squints at the commander from furrowed red eyebrows....

It has been NUMEROUS hours that he and Boom have been drinking in the Bloated dragon. Krak and Boom had "B-lined it" to the tavern nearly as soon as they were given directions. In fact it was a bit of a miracle that they were able to hold their patience through their initial debreifing and often answered questions testily and with much crossarmed toe-tapping.

The Bloated Dragon was not a Wofenburg tavern of much note in the past, but recently it is a bustling place of commerce as the bartenders and wenches struggle to meet demands that continue long into the night and resume again only after a very quick few hours of "cleanup respite".

Though the staff has tripled in size, they are all still overextended and worn from the long hours and the constant mechantile strife.

Many of the more famous and more "elegant" taverns that once made several streets of Wolfenburg the talk of region are now either charred husks or foul living habitats for the fouls Chaos forces. Their once Empirical charm, fresh goods and warmth are now cold, forbidden and fouled.

Now that the Bloated Dragon is literally one of the only taverns in town, it is packed with nearly every sort of city inhabitant save the noble classes. It is probably for the best as these are dangerous times and the noble sort would find no comfort amoung the mirade of Mercenaries, foriegners, soldiers, and commoners that come here to drown their day's hardships.

It is in this place that Krak and Boom had made their way. Though short in stature, their broad forms and fueled determination to get served had kept them from being swallowed up by the constantly shifting bodies. A pick axe to a table and two VERY grim soot covered faces moments later secured them a seat.

Though the beer was surely not up to Dawrven standards, it was certainly better than in many places in the empire as these hills and mountains were founded and still frequently travled by the Dwarven race. In fact in these regions and especially in Middenheim, Dwarves common and their crafts highly revered and coveted.

"Right, well ya kinda found us for we ave had ah chance tah get propaly situated, ya yarbol. Werra justa getn stated anna now yer wanna I drop everatin anna work fo ya?" Ainna dat right Boom?"

".......mumblemumblemumble......zzzzzzzzz" Says Boom from his facedown position on the table...a hand still grapsing an empty tankard

Turning to see Boom and then turning to look at the captain...swaying and blinking

"Right, wellnna nowe zeems like mah collueg will right take ya up on de offa. ON ONE CONDITION!!! We gat ah room anna tapped keg."

[b]"Annna clean stable anna fresh oats fo Donkay!"

Rolls and descriptions to come tomorrow...

I had previously described the Bloated Dragon as an Inn turned into a headquarters for the Commander:

Here in the main tap room of 'The Bloated Dragon', Commander Nulner has transformed the once jovial inn into a war-room. Tables are covered with reports and parchments, the walls lined with colorful maps of the city itself, the various districts outlined or crossed out. It is from here that the campaign to save the capital of Ostland has been fought.

But we can play it either way, or mesh the two descriptions together. Perhaps Commander Nulner has taken over a portion of the tavern for the war effort, the other parts are still in operation to service the morale of the off duty men. Either way, I look forward to your rolls and descriptions tomorrow. Thanks for the update!

Dammit. Sorry.

Revision: It had been some time before the dawrves were sent for to see the commander and they had used that time drinking the very last of their "Old King's Poison". By the time the messenger fetched them, they had been "4 stars away from Morsleib" (as the saying goes).

Demanding Donkey come with them, the mule had been escorted as far as the HQs door and then no more. With some grumbling Krak had left the ALSO drunk mule behind and he and Boom had found a table at which Boom promptly passed out on.

This was one of the VERY last taverns and now it too is gone...a another victim of the current war at Wolfenburg. The weary bartenders and wenches had finally been given relief to their strife, but to their alarm it had been a relief of much of their earnings.

"For the Empire.." is what is commonly told to those unfortunate enough to be in its way in times of "need".

Krak: "Right, well ya kinda found us for we ave had ah chance tah get propaly situated, ya yarbol. Werra justa getn stated anna now yer wanna I drop everatin anna work fo ya?" Ainna dat right Boom?"

".......mumblemumblemumble......zzzzzzzzz" Says Boom from his facedown position on the table...a hand still grapsing an empty tankard

Krak: ......."Right, wellnna nowe zeems like mah collueg will right take ya up on de offa. ON ONE CONDITION!!! We gat ah room anna tapped keg."

The commander cocks his head as he hears an unsually loud braying donkey from outside.

"Annna clean stable anna fresh oats fo Donkay!"

KRAK/BOOM:

"Right, wellnna nowe zeems like mah collueg will right take ya up on de offa. ON ONE CONDITION!!! We gat ah room anna tapped keg."

"I'll see to it at once, Master Dwarf." Commander Nulner says, smiling grimly as he extends his hand. "If you can get those two cannons working again, I'll give you access to the whole cellar."

Now awaiting your description of what's wrong with the cannon and your rolls to fix them. Remember, two of the six cannon are no longer working and the Empire engineers cannot figure out why.

FOR LACKEY. WHAT IF:

Lackey begins to motivate the rabble he was given, but seeing the men be begins a stirring tirade: 1d100 ⇒ 77 vs 28 Fel!

There might indeed by something to be said about Commander Nulner and his dream to own the greatest Snotball team in known history. As the Eye of the Raven follows Lackey out the door of the Bloated Dragon and into the cold war torn streets of Wolfenburg, scores of men begin to gather to hear the words of the giant from Kislev.

It is a speech for the ages! Years from now, try as he might, Lackey Gunterman would never be able to recall the words he shouted that night. He would only remember how fires began to spring to life in the eyes of men who had lost all hope. One by one the soldiers who's lives had been broken began to aspire to greatness once again.

From the shattered windows of the Bloated Dragon, Commander Nulner watches in silent wonder. This uncouth trouble making vagabond, this Corporal Gunterman, had a special connection to the men. It was worth his weight in gold.

And so it is written. Should Commander Nulner, Lackey Gunterman and the soldiers of Wolfenburg survive the horrific events of Wolenburg, they will one day go on to form the most dominant Snotball team in the history of the Old World.

'The Wolfenburg Warriors' will march to the sound of victory, winning three divisional titles and Six Imperial Cups! Herr Gunterman will become the most feared and respected player the game has ever known, and Marcus Nulner the richest owner in the history of the sport.

And through these epic events and sweeping changes, a great many wheels will begin to turn...Somewhere in the unspeakable depth of space and time, in the swirling ebb and flow of the void, The Great Architect leans back on a throne built of endless possibilities and laughs.

After draining the last dregs out of their tankards, Krak and Boom follow the commander to the guns.

They are led into a warehouse which is a bustle of noise as hammers hit steel and chains rattle as pulleys squeek with the weight of heavy seige engine parts.

There are long tables cluttered with pieces of armor and weaponry in various states of repair and assembly while women, old men and children struggle to keep up with the spoken demands of the enlisted men assisting them.

The commander leads the dwarves to an area of the warehouse away from the mass of activity where 2 mighty imperial cannon barrels hang horizontally suspended from ropes..their bases dissassembled beneath them.

Both the Cannons and their bases are carved with ornate depictions of the Empire's cities, past battles and seals of noble houses of the empire and emporer. They are huge brass tubes measuring over ten feet in length and nearly 3 feet in width.

Still stumbling a bit, Krak walks over to them stroking his beard.

"Ahhhhh a fine Nuln make dey are for sure."

Looking back at the commander with a wink..
"Ya know dat it wer dah Dwarves datten show dah men owe tah forge steel dinnya?" "Well, dis issa fynnuf job anna ah willin tah bet dah Master engineer is a dwarf, dunna yah say Boom? ........Boom?

Turning around he sees that Boom is sitting slumped over on a crate fast asleep. Walking over to him, Krak grabs a bucket of cleaning water and promptly douses Boom

Boom: "AAACCKKKKKK!!!! *SPUTTER**SPUTTER*...."JA! JA! ve vill soak ze fungus for a lubricant!!!!!!" spitting water and blinking several times...

Krak: "Ya bleedin sod! Neer canna yah handle deh ol kings! Yah ready tah look at dah cannons nowe! Dah soonah we fix it dah soonah we can drink anna rest proper!"

Still havent updated my characters (240xp), but thise works out...
KRAK: 1d100 ⇒ 46 -10 for being drunk INT test failed
Boom: 1d100 ⇒ 5 -10 for being drunk INT test passed

Krak walks under and around the cannons, he looks at the sites closely, he grabs a Cerionotronix ranger and measures the gap space filer between the strike plate and the strike hammer as well as the elevator winch and seating pins.

He pulls the turning crank several grommets and pulls on the blaster chain. Looking down the rifling he see that the handwidth spacing has been properly calibrated and that the front retention correction pin is not damaged. "Could be a grommet or two lower anna left triangulated, bah itssa common mistake with dah humans." He thinks.

Rubbing a finger under his chin, he stands staring at the cannons.

"Well, it looks tah me like deyve donna ah fine nuff job at fixin anna cleanin dem up, but I canna see dah problem. What do yah dink Boom? Boom?"

Again, Boom is asleep, this time while sitting on a barrel.

Krak leans over and up to his ear.....

"I SAID, WHAT DO YA DINK O DAH CANNONS????!!!!!!!"

As if someone had hit Boom with a cattle prod, he jerks into motion. Still not fully awake, his eyes process the cannons and his legs instintively propell him forward.

With mechanical precision stikes the automatic flinter and pulls the blaster cord.

Nothing.

"HAHAH YA bleedin snotling suckler, Its sodding broken AH told ya!!"

Boom blinks several times and then frowns looking over at the back of the cannon. He scans his immediate surroundings.... "JA!

Moving to grab a hammer and a small piece of metal he bangs it into flat semicicular shape with an upturned hook.

Walking back to the cannon, Boom fumbles with the piece of metal and pulls until there is a click.

SSSSSSSSTTTTTTTTTTTT

"It Vas ze ignition lifter arm. It is broken, but it can be fixed. I "Goblin-rigged" it. It should......FIRE! WATCH OUT!!!!"

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

whoever left the cannon loaded may be in a lot of trouble! :-P

DAGON: Awesome update and very funny. I chuckled a few times. Those crazy, crazy dwarves. Grant +60 xp for both Krak and Boom. That should give them 300 xp each and allow each of them three advances. Let me know what you spend the points on in the discussion thread.

I'll orchestrate a response to your post later tonight.

Lackey stumbles into camp ragged and bruised, walking ito tent after tent with a blank look on his face collecting various scraps of metal plate armor. As quickly and without notice he comes and goes almost with out notice with his pile of collected armor pieces back into the ruins of Wolfenburg.

BOOM:

The commander leads the dwarves to an area of the warehouse away from the mass of activity where 2 mighty imperial cannon barrels hang horizontally suspended from ropes..their bases dissassembled beneath them.

Walking back to the cannon, Boom fumbles with the piece of metal and pulls until there is a click.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There is a terrible thunderous explosion of sound as the mighty cannon fires skyward. No longer attached to its base, the recoil from the blast tears the huge iron gun from it's chains and supports. Beams and ropes snap as huge chunks of woodwork collapse in a shower of smoke and dust. The floorboards buckle and snap under the sudden impact of the gigantic gun, sending shockwaves of debris into the air!

I'm going to roll for a general toughness check for the mass of engineers and workers in the area. My success or failure will help determine what happens next.

1d100 ⇒ 89 vs 40 (Average Tough): FAILED!

It looks like some of the soldiers in the area have been hurt! I'm now going to roll 1d10 to see how many people were injured in the blast.

1d10 ⇒ 2

Two poor souls were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'll determine the severity of their injuries by rolling another d10. The closer we get to 10 the more sever the damage caused.

1d10 ⇒ 6
1d10 ⇒ 6

When the smoke and chaos begin to clear, you can hear men yelling in confusion while others are shouting orders. The huge barrel of the monstrous gun has buried itself halfway into the floor, smoke pouring from the barrel. Nearby, two men writhe in pain. Imperial medics rush to their side, soot covered and stunned.

"What in Sigmar's name?!" Commander Nulner shouts, pulling himself out of the rubble.

Both Krak and Boom are lying in a mass of debris...with eyes wide open, gaping mouths and a childish look of being caught while stealing cookies, they stare in disbelief at the damage.

Krak, shakes his head, looks over at Boom and then at the commander as he is getting up.

In Dwarvish: "Boom, QUICK, you're hurt. Throw debris on you!!"

As fast as he can Krak lies back down, throwing some pieces of broken timber over him and acting unconcious.

Boom quickly follows suite.

Krak 1d100 ⇒ 71 -20 failed bluff

Boom 1d100 ⇒ 90 -20 failed bluff.

The commander is not fooled. Afterall, he saw everything.

Krak opens one eye at the sound of a tapping foot near him to see the commander looming over him with a SEVERE look of disaproval.

".....ERRRRRRRR We fixed dem fo ya? Yer welcome." Still lying on the floow, a horrific crooked fake smile passes over his soot covered face in a terrible attempt at appeasement.

KRAK AND BOOM:

Rolling Commander Nulner's Will Power to see how he reacts to the situation.

1d100 ⇒ 76 vs 45 (WP): FAILED! - He's not pleased, but wow! How close is that?

"You think this funny?!" Commander Nulner snaps, his head still ringing as if in a vice. "You nearly cost us all our lives, and look!"

Rolling for the integrity of the Cannon. We'll do a standard 50/50 roll to see if it survived the misfire: 1d100 ⇒ 13 - Luckily, the cannon is not destroyed!

"It will take days to clean up this mess! If I were a lesser man I'd have you two flogged through the streets for this foolishness!"

Commander Marcus Nulner takes a long pause, looking down at the two clumsy Dwarves covered in soot and debris. And then, quite unexpectedly, he begins to laugh.

"You two rascals!" he bellows, reaching down to help both Krak and Boom regain their feet. "Well, at least we know the guns still work. And the Kurgan soon will as well."

Swiveling on his boot heel, Commander Nulner shouts into the haze of smoke and dust.

"Gunnery Sergeant?!"

"Sir, yes sir?" A voice responds.

"Get these last two batteries operational as fast as you can and direct their fire towards the far end of the Wolfenburg bridge. Waste no time. Our lives depend on it!"

"Aye, sir. Yes sir!"

"As for you two," Commander Nulner says, leveling his finger at Krak and Boom. "You will help repair this damage. Then, and only then, will you earn those barrels of ale I promised you."

Turning from the room and marching off into the darkness the Commander shouts one final command.

"GET TO WORK!"

LACKEY:

In the cold courtyards and streets of Wolfenburg, the men you've assembled drill hour after hour on the various demands you've given them. Running, leaping, tackling, fighting (and all in full armor). By the end of it they are drenched with sweat despite the freezing temperatures.

All the while you begin to gather bits of gear and equipment, armor and padding, setting them down in a large tent with buckets of paint. One by one you begin to paint crude numbers on the breast and shoulder plates.

The Wolfenburg Warriors will be a team of legend. But before they take the field in Altdorf, they'll first need to take the field against the Kurgan.

Lutke had been shocked to be invited into the Commander's private office on the upper floors of The Bloated Dragon. A couple of high ranking men who had the air of command stood in the room, most likely Commander Nulner's aide as one man's insignia showed a major's rank and the other the top enlisted man which would make him a sergeant major. Lutke hadn't noticed the commander's rank when they had first been introduced, but clearly he must be a lt. colonel or perhaps higher. Lutke began calculating the time these two must have served based on their ribbons and what he could remember of the service awards.

His contemplation was interrupted when a side door from the one Lutke had entered opened, and Commander Nulner came into the room. Apparently the Commander had just come from the bath as he was bare-chested with a towel around his shoulders and loose fitting slacks of a rough cloth. Coming in front of the desk, the Commander leans slightly on it while gripping the ends of the towel in each hand. He wastes no time with pleasantries and says,

"Herr Geshburger, I'm beginning to think the arrival of you and your cohorts was a gift from Sigmar himself. Tell me sir, are you a religious man? Do you obey the strictures of Sigmar?"

Lutke blinks several times and as the silence grew realized a response was evidently expected. "Y-yes. Of course." The Commander and his two men watch Lutke squirm unrelentingly. Lutke swallowed and found himself begin to speak again. "I-I mean, maybe I haven't always said my prayers, b-but I am definitely good about requesting help from the gods Ulric and Ranald since I was raised here in the north and I thank them too, of course after all if one can receive help y-you sh-should definitely remember to honor them afterwards and of course I honor S-Sigmar, too even though I am from the northern lands and we venerate Ulric I have never b-been one to forget my Lord Sigmar in my prayers or on feast days I swear, I mean one time when I was back h-home, my father and I..."

This time Commander Nulner is the one who blinked, finally realizing that Lutke was too nervous to shut up on his own. He waved his hand dismissively. Lutke stops talking immediately, a slight choking sound may be heard as Lutke strangles whatever words he was going to say.

"Don't misunderstand my question, Lutke. I am no priest, but I must know you are going to be able to protect your soul from the business I called you for today."

Lutke feels even more confused now. "Sir? I don't think I understand."

Nulner pauses here, glancing at his aides. The major seems to have a slight disapproving turn to his mouth, and the Sergeant major grunts slightly nodding at the commander. The quiet stretches to the point of almost uncomfortable as the Commander visibly wrestles with whatever is on his mind. When he does finally speak, the words seem to burst out of him causing Lutke to jump just a bit which might have been funny except none of the three other men seemed even remotely interested in laughing.

"In one of our more daring counter attacks, we staged an assault deep into No Man's Land. That's what we call the part of the city the Kurgan now control."

The Commander seems to choke on his words as if they were venom, then continues.

"Anyhow, we lost many good men but the attack wasn't in vain. We manged to secure a prisoner. A Chaos Champion by the looks of it. My Farseer tells me he's aligned with the Architect of Fate, whatever that means. In truth, I've never made much of a study of the Chaos Gods. To look too deep into the eyes of the enemy is to become your enemy."

Lutke tried to keep his face very still. The Commander's comment had struck a nerve within him. His memories of those odd occurrences he had had since meeting the wizard Albrecht had come surging to the forefront of his mind, and Lutke felt if these three men saw even a whisper of it in his face, they would strike him down where he stood.

It is here Commander Nulner seems to peer into Lutke as if looking for imperfections. Mercifully, he seems to find none. With a nod of his head, he continues.

The other two men seemed to relax slightly as well, as if taking cues from Nulner was second nature and most likely not even conscious.

Lutke would have breathed a sigh of relief, but knew it would only arouse whatever suspicions had been recently stifled. Instead he tried to focus on Nulner's face to understand why Nulner was telling him of such a possibly heretical act as leaving a Chaos Champion alive.

"We've been forced to keep this Champion under constant guard. I've assigned some of my best men to stand watch, men who I'd rather have on the front lines. You see, no lock or cage seems capable of holding this infidel. There's something strange about him. We need this man restrained! Only then can we properly question him and glean whatever information he has."

"A man who is able to escape restraints and locks?" Lutke says with curiosity, almost to himself. His mind begins to whirl and work already trying to puzzle out the different ways a man could escape basic locks.

Nulner pauses, turning once again to face you. His cool black eyes seem to be sizing you up.

"I hear you're something of an expert when it comes to locks. Can you do this?"

"I will need to study him...understand how he frees himself. I have to admit, if it is magic I will be outside my element, but if there is some mundane mechanism..." Lutke trails off, his eyes unseeing as his mind began placing images of every lock type one could use to secure a prisoner ahead of his more physical vision.

Lutke didn't see the looks exchanged between Nulner and his top men. "Herr Geshberger? Herr?" Nulner gestured and the Sergeant Major leaned forward and snapped his fingers before Lutke's face. Lutke recolied slightly and his eyes refocused on Nulner. A comical expression on Lutke's face brought a wry smile to Nulner's lips, while the Sergeant Major chuckled audibly. The Major did not seem amused.

"Is that a yes, Herr Geshburger?" Commander Nulner asked. He crossed his arms and gave Lutke an inquisitive look.

"Ah...yes, Commander," Lutke said. "As long as his method of regress is in fact a physical means, I know I can prevent this."

Commander Nulner smiled and nodded, another quick glance in his aides' direction seemed to confirm something between them.

"I hope I do not need to stress how critical it is for us to question this so-called Champion as soon as possible," Commander Nulner said returning to complete seriousness. "Aside from the time sensitive nature of finding out as much as we can about what the enemy force is planning to throw at us, the various religious orders are clamoring for us to destroy the mutant immediately." Commander Nulner frowned and rubbed his temples. "I have begun hearing some rumors questioning my own intentions in keeping this...this thing alive. If we are not able to gain some Intel from it soon, I will be forced to turn it over to the witch hunters who are stationed here for termination."

"I...I think I can understand that, sir," Lutke said. Then hesitantly, "Are you certain one mutant is going to be worth all this trouble? I am not certain how quickly I will be able to find a solution for you."

Commander Nulner's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to speak but was forestalled when the frowning Major said icily, "You would do well not to ask questions which might be above your position, Herr Geshburger." The man had an accent Lutke couldn't place or rather a distinct lack of one, each word pronounced precisely and carefully with absolute care.

"My, my apologies, gentlemen," Lutke said looking down. He felt himself tremble. There was an air of dangerous energy crackling in the small office, and Lutke realized there was something happening here. He would need to tread very carefully in how he proceeded. Lutke swallowed and as politely as possible said, "Since time is of the essence, it's best I get started right away." He took a chance and looked up with out raising his head. For once he was grateful for the longish hair dangling in his eyes. Nulner was looking at his major, his face a mask. The sergeant major had a sour expression and was definitely shifting his gaze between the two officers. Major 'Ice' was frowning deeply and seemed intent on boring a hole through Lutke's head with his eyes.

After a long moment of silence, Nulner lifted a hand without saying anything and rang a small bell sitting on the desk upon which he leaned. The door opened behind Lutke and he heard the voice of the runner boy who had been sitting outside the office on a stool next to the door sentries say, "Yes, Commander Nulner?"

"Go and find Sir Brechton," Mulner said. "Tell him I am sending a locksmith. Have him come to The Bloated Dragon to escort Herr Geshburger here," Nulner gestures to Lutke, "back to his fellow knights' location."

Lutke heard a quick, "Yessir," and the boy was gone. Commander Nulner twists from his position and picks up a small folded paper and looks contemplatively at Lutke. "I trust you will not let me down, Herr Geshburger." He holds the paper out, and Lutke takes it from the commander. "Dismissed."

As Lutke turns to leave the small office, he feels the weight of the three men's eyes on his back. Somehow the cold and the snow and the Kurgen are feeling a lot less dangerous than the small office of The Bloated Dragon.

LUTKE: There is indeed something strange going on between these men. It'll be interesting to find out what! +70 xp for the update! Well done. Looking forward to seeing how this all plays out.

LUTKE:

Hope this doesn't ninja your story in any way. I just felt inspired by the name Sir Brechton to make the man Bretonnian. I left the reasons why he is serving here open. I'm sure we can make it into an interesting backstory.

"Sir Brechton!" A young voice calls. Ah yes, one of the unfortunate children of Wolfenburg turned runner for Commander Nulner. "Sir Brechton? Message for you!"

"In here, boy!"

Sir Brechton was a stranger in a strange land. Bretonnian by birth, Adrien Brechton was in fact a Sir, a Knight of the Order of the Flowers, though perhaps the lowliest of them. How he had managed to become embroidered in the troubles of the Empire is a story for another time.

"Commander Nulner is sending someone, errr, a locksmith."

A locksmith? Sir Brechton muses, raising an eyebrow. Of all things, a locksmith?

These past few weeks had been very tense. This palpable air of stress had not improved when 'The Champion' had been captured. This Champion had been left under the watch of Sir Brechton and four of his most capable men. It had been a tiring affair. Even now, down in the basement below, Sir Brechton could feel the presence of the unholy denizen of Tzeentch, mocking his captors as he slowly paced the room. What was he, no IT, waiting for?

"Send the Commander my thanks. We welcome any assistance when it comes to our current...situation."

A locksmith?! Lady preserve us.

Adrien Brechton takes another long pull at his glass of Bretonnian Brandy.

"I tell once, I tell many times. I not Kurgan. I from Norsca. This is different!" Njord counters, his nineteenth such argument since arriving with the Gray Wolves into Wolfenburg.

"Yea? Well we don't like the look of you, Norseman! I think you're nothing but a no good Kurgan spy, that's what I think. And you know what we do with spies? We hang 'em by the neck!" A young soldier counters, standing with a pack of his comrades. Each of them wear dented armor with numbers painted on the chest and shoulders; the 'Warriors of Wolfenburg'.

Njord doesn't wait, plunging his fist straight into the face of the leading man. The fight that follows is brutal.

Because Njord is fighting three men, he'll need to win the fight by at least 3 successes! This is a brawl (thankfully), and all the men are fighting unarmed.

Njord's Attack: 5d100 ⇒ (30, 34, 54, 11, 72) = 201 vs 50 (WS): 3 SUCCESSES!
Njord's Defense: 4d100 ⇒ (46, 43, 33, 97) = 219 vs 40 (T): 1 SUCCESS!

Wolfenburg Warrior (1) Attack: 3d100 ⇒ (8, 24, 24) = 56 vs 35 (WS): 3 SUCCESSES!
Wolfenburg Warrior (1) Defense: 3d100 ⇒ (79, 31, 69) = 179 vs 30 (T): FAILED!

Wolfenburg Warrior (2) Attack: 3d100 ⇒ (21, 97, 85) = 203 vs 35 (WS): 1 SUCCESS!
Wolfenburg Warrior (2) Defense: 3d100 ⇒ (53, 80, 38) = 171 vs 30 (T): FAILED!

Wolfenburg Warrior (3) Attack: 3d100 ⇒ (70, 62, 75) = 207 vs 35 (WS): FAILED!
Wolfenburg Warrior (3) Defense: 3d100 ⇒ (97, 40, 30) = 167 vs 30 (T): 1 SUCCESS!

Not rolling a Saving Throw since this is unarmed combat and not to the death.

HOW IT ALL UNFOLDS:

Njord fights like a cornered lion, smashing his fists into the faces of the soldiers as they approach, or crashing his elbow into the side of exposed skulls. One man goes down as Njord lands a swift kick between his legs, while another topples backwards his nose spouting blood. But the surge of soldiers is too much. Leaping on Njord they hold him down and begin to kick him senseless. The Norseman collapses like a sack of bricks!

And then a voice rings out...

"SOLDIERS?! What is the meaning of this?"

Oh Gods, the men thought. It's Commander Nulner! The man was omni-potent! He could somehow be everywhere at once. The soldiers immediately stop kicking the Norseman and fall into line, huffing and puffing, their eyes locked forward in dread.

"Sir, we were teaching the Kurgan spy a lesson!" One of the braver of the soldiers speaks up, his lip trembling.

"Were you now? And who says he is a spy? I personally cleared the Northerner and you've officially disregarded my orders."

This comment was met with a dreadful silence.

"Captain..." Commander Nulner says at last, turning his gaze to the man on his right.

"Sir?" Captain Biedelmann says, stepping forward.

"Latrine duty for these three. Make sure they take their time with it too. I want to see my ass shining on the wood by morning."

"Yes sir..."

There was an audible groan from all the gathered soldiers as they lowered their heads and marched off towards the latrines that awaited them like a row of hangmen. Captain Biedelmann followed close behind them.

"As for you, Northerner. Since you are so eager to prove that you are NOT a Kurgan, I think you've just earned yourself a spot with your friends for something special I have planned." Commander Nulner says, holding his hand out to help Njord up from the frozen flagstones.

"Give chance to kill Kurgan, I show you what I good for." Njord responds, spitting blood.

Pushing past the Commander a wall of flesh, armor and Jersey "77". Well Njord you will do just fine, "On the defensive line wit da likes of joo brudder yous fight like poller baar grins the fellow mountain of a fellow Grog. Will be fun to crush these southern sissy men as he raises a eyebrow to the commander." Lackey pushes a numbered jersey into Njords chest "Joo looks like a 01 to me! Practice in 20 minutes be ready to crush wittle people."

Njord stood, holding his numbered jersey and staring at a man even larger than himself. For long moments the Norseman studied the newcomer and then smiling slapped him on the back.

"I not sure what little girl shirt means, but I wear." Njord says jokingly, walking down the frozen streets of Wolfenburg with Lackey Gunterman. "But first, we get drink. Come, boar's piss ale!"

What neither Lackey nor Njord know is that in the days to come (should both survive), the men would become a legendary duo on the Snotball field, crushing anyone that stands in their way.

Karak and Boom cotinue to clean up the mess, help repair the cannons and argue with eachother.

They have a heck of a day......

Krak and Boom cotinue to clean up the mess, help repair the cannons and argue with eachother.

They have a heck of a day......

At some point before the impending attack...

"Uh M'lord, as you know, I've been deep in preparation with our new Bright Wizard and it seems as if we've caught a fortunate break in the turn of events." Farseer Nicodemus mutters, his hands wringing invisible curtains before his chest.

"Oh, well good news is...good, I suppose." Commander Nulner replies. "What do you have to report?"

"It would seem the forces and, uh, Daemons of Khorne, have been hampered somewhat by strife in the enemy ranks. Agents of the Architect and the Blood God have broken into open fighting on the far side of the river. We think it has something to do about who deserves the glory to cross the bridge first and take what remains of Wolfenburg..." the Farseer replies.

"Ah, I see. That is interesting."

"And rather predictable, fortunately for us. Chaos can be remarkably easy to anticipate at times, though the danger is in trusting to what you think you know. They can also, as you know, be quite random..."

"Very well, Farseer." Commander Nulner concludes. "I await your final report on what both you and the Bright Wizard have in mind to deal with the forthcoming assault. I need that information soon!"

"Of course, sir." The Farseer bows his head, blind eyes (that can see much) sweeping the floor.

KRAK/BOOM:

The entire day is spent repairing the damage caused by the cannon's misfire. By the end of it, the two Dwarves feel as if they are back in the mines at home, laboring endlessly under the watchful gaze of the Mine Masters and Rune Lords.

Covered in soot, ash and dust, Krak and Boom stumble away from the debris field they had caused and take a seat on a nearby wagon, panting heavily.

"OI, WELL LOOKIE 'DER!" both Dwarves shout in unison.

Commander Nulner was true to his word. Loaded in the wagon can be seen three barrels of Wolfenburg Stout!

Without so much as a word, the kegs are tapped and the drinking begins in earnest.

Morning sun peers thru the mist and dust of what was once Wolfenburg, The siege had been going on for what seeemed like a eternity. Lackey was given a task that in his eyes was below him, to train the rabble of Wolfenburg militia into a Snotball team. Who did Nulner think he was talking to, "Dat Nulner bloke wants me to train a load of fools to die tryn to kill a Hellcannon then if we live perhaps a team". Lackey grumbles to the newest and best snotball trainee Njord. Lackey not being one to complain all the time has taken it upon himself to liberate various goods for his needs over others.
Lately he replaced the Wolfenburg Stout for some lowly little men with Boars piss ale so his men could enjoy something good. This morning in particular whe Commander Nulner walks out to the plaza in front of The Bloated Dragon. 25 men all dressed to the numbers, standing at attention ready for inspection. Lackey and Njord standing at the front of the formation,Lackey stepping forward. Da mens ready fer inspection". Lackey barks out orders to his me tring to sound all military 1d100 ⇒ 31 vs Fel 28 failed oh well. "We be ready fer dea Hellcannon Sir Lackey geatures to some bombs freed from storage painted to look like snotballs. "Give us da orders.

Fun update, Lackey! I like the idea of the Snotball players being part of the upcoming attack on the Hellcannon. A bunch of painted soldiers carrying explosive snotballs could make for an interesting story, heh. +20 xp for the cool ideas in your update!

Once we get Albrecht's update and part II from Pinvendor detailing the Champion, I'll get the Hellcannon element of the story going.

KRAK/BOOM:

Lately Lackey replaced the Wolfenburg Stout for some lowly little men with Boars piss ale so his men could enjoy something good.

The Dwarves have finished off an entire keg of the ale and look at each other in awe. This is perhaps the best ale you've had in ages! Boar's Piss Ale or not, Krak and Boom get very, very drunk.