The Empire lay in a state of relative waste in the wake of the Storm of Chaos. Populations of entire cities have vanished from the face of the earth and those who remain, are in many of the smaller villages, mere husk of humanity. For each of you, the war was a different experience, but all of you are united in your desire to never relive it. Having been waylaid from your various endeavors and scattered on the wind, only now are you returning to your own interest. On the road to Middenheim lies the village of Untegard. A once bustling port town on the river Taub, it boasted the only bridge south of Grimminhagen some distance to the north.
Virtually destroyed by a siege, only about 75 people of its original population remains today. It is here each of you have found yourselves come to rest as the immediate threat of Chaos recedes to stragglers and detached warbands. What remains of Untergard is a ruin on the east bank of the Taub sacked by the Gor warlord Khazrak and on the west bank only a slightly better scene greeted you upon your arrival 4 days ago. Over the last 3 days a storm of great power has halted any traffic out of town due to wind and rain. Awakening on the 4th day to clearing skies, it looks like you may be able to continue on your individual ways. As you ready your packs a commotion in the central Ackerplatz peeks your interest.
What looks to be a gathering of the townsfolk appears to be causing quite a stir. Nearly every member of the community's 75 individuals look to be present. Some nurse the still fresh wounds received in defense of their home, while others are of advanced age or very young. What binds them all is a look of malnourishment. A great deal of muttering can be heard rising from the throng of citizens and a number of anxious looks can be seen passing among them. Being that the way out ofa town lies you decide one might as well get the latest news before heading on your way.
Feel free to discuss whatever you might with the townspeople as they wait for the village leader to arrive. The Ackerplatz is a large plaza surrounded on the three sides by plaster and lumber homes, warehouses, and places of business and the Taub and remanents of the bridge spanning it to the east. Let me know where you find yourselves in relation to the crowd.
Damli slogs his way through Untergard's mudded streets, an eye upon the overcast sky, as though he expects the skies to open up again and continue its fury. He spies a few others of his race on the outskirts, and for a moment, his spirits lift. "Out of teh way," he says in accented Reikspiel, pushing past several humans to approach the small crowd of Dwarfs. "האט ניט פאַרשטיין אַז עס זענען אנדערע דוואַרפס דאָ אין דעם בראָדעווקע אויף די מלוכה ס טאָכעס. ווו טאָן איר אַלע באַגריסן? און קיין געדאַנק וואָס אַז גערודער איז אַלע וועגן?"
Didn't realize that there were other Dwarfs here in this wart on the Empire's ass. Where do you all hail? And any idea what that commotion was all about?
By the by, I'm using Yiddish for Khazalid. I was sorely tempted to go with Aurebesh, but I didn't know how long Google Translate would keep it in their dictionaries.
The chaos of the war had seen dieter leave the city. He was useless at fighting, but passable with his bow and had somehow found himself here. The last weeks had blended together and he was tired. He hung around the edge of the crowd, apparently some village elder or some such was going to speak and he might as well hear it before heading towards midenheim.
[Ooc] are we supposed to already know each other? [/oo]
Eomund was on his way out of Untergard towards the Drakwold Forest. The last word Eomund had was that the Crimson Crowns were hired to deal with the Gloomfangs goblin tribe of the region. He still had hopes of reconnecting with his sister and maybe earning a spot with band. As he was passes the main plaza of the small town, the locals called it Ackerplatz, he couldn't help but notice that a crowd was beginning to congregate. It started to seem like every man, woman, and child was in the plaza. Not that it was large amount this town was ravage by The Storm only had about 75 residents currently. Still Eomund had seen enough of small towns to know that when the town gathered like this it was usually big news. Best to hang around long enough to figure out what got everyone out of the homes today. Also best not to attract any attention, he was a long way from Riekland and Baron Kiesinger and West Stirland but an outlaw never wanted to garner to much attention.
Maneuvering himself to the back of the crowd Eomund grabs the arm of a small boy running by. What's going on boy? He says in gruff voice as intimidating as his small frame can be. Why's the crowd gathering?
Gossip30: 1d100 ⇒ 74
Hargin's rough grumbling about the incessant weather kept the locals away, just has he'd intended.
Still, this backwater grated on his nerves more than the rain. Glad that the precipitation looked to be easing, he grabbed his gear and made for the road.
Only to be brought up by an impromptu gathering. Standing in the sucking mud, his brow furiously furrowed, he turned at hearing the tongue of his people to one side.
Turning, he nodded ", אַה, גרעעטינגס, ברודער. האַרגרין גראַניטעפיסט, פֿון זופבאַר .... שיעלדברעאַקער. א צו וואָס ס רילעד די לאָוקאַלז? האָבן ניט די מינדסטע געדאַנק. זאל אונדז היטן ...'
Ah, greetings, brother. Hargrin Granitefist , out of Zufbar....Shieldbreaker. As to what's riled the locals? Haven't the slightest idea. Let us watch...
Hargin hitches his thumbs into his belt and waits for someone to explain the cause of the gathering....
The rumors running through the crowd range from the Captain of the town watch has an important message from Baron Todbrigner to wild accusations of giant rat-men scene in fleeting glances in the eastern side of town. Before the veracity of any of these bits of information can be ascertained a man who could only be the Captain Schindler everyone has been murmuring about appears before the crowd. A man in his autumnal years, but of powerful build, Captain Schindler carries himself with the power of man half his age. Hardness is a way of life in the north and the Captain obviously is very much part of that way.
The townsfolk quickly begins excitedly chattering as one of Schindler's men places a box for him to stand upon. Mounting it quickly and without a hint of age, the Captain quickly silences the crowd with but a raising of his right hand. "People of Untergard" he declares in a booming voice, "this is a glorious day. I have received a letter from Count Todbringer of Middenheim. The old wolf still lives and the city of Middenheim yet stands!"
Motioning again to silence the raucous cheering of the crowd, he continues " The count sends his thanks to the citizens of Untergard who played a great roll in hampering the ambitions of the Chaos army. He said and I quote, "The battle of Untergard Bridge will go down in history as one of the most glorious in Middenland's history." Be proud, people of Untergard, for our sacrifices have not been for naught!"
When the cheers have again subsided, Schindler continues. "In a show of that gratitude, the count has sent us a great bounty." Reaching into a large sack at his side he produces a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine. "The count has been most generous indeed for we have received thirty loaves of bread and another dozen bottles of wine directly from Middenheim!" The emaciated forms of townspeople erupt in a roaring chant praising Todbringer's name to be forever held close by Ulric.
As Schindler opens his mouth to continue, his words are caught in his throat by the thump of blackpowder and the shattering of the wine bottle. With this the crowd bolts in a frenzied panic. The last thing you see of the Captain is one his men yanking him down from the podium before the mob becomes to interlaced to see through.
Routine Perception rolls, please.
Eomund dismissed most of the rumors that the crowd was buzzing about. The majority had a common strand which he accepted as truth. The Captain was going to make a speech. Sure enough there the old man was climbing atop a box to gain the few inches of elevation. Eomund was amazed that the townsfolk silenced so quickly from merely a gesture from Captain Schindler. Obviously he was a well liked and respected authority in the town. Eomund stood quietly with the rest of the crowd during the speech and was just as shocked when he heard a gunshot ring out. His keen eyes quickly panned the crowded plaza looking for the cause among the confusion. Eomund also tries to blend into the crowd of townspeople knowing that people may be looking extra hard at outsiders after that shot.
RoutinePerceptionVs39: 1d100 ⇒ 55
ConcealmentVs31: 1d100 ⇒ 74 Eomund will try to blend into the crowd and then duck between some buildings.
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"Rat-men?", Damli said incredulously as some of the gossip floats past his ears. "Ah dohn't tehy relly exist. Stohries teh scare teh boys and girls."
His stomach growls at the promise of fresh bread from Middenheim, though he hides his disappointment at wine. "Ohf course tehre's no ale. Never any ale when yeh need-"
His sentence is cut off as he recognizes the retort of a black powder weapon. His hand goes to his hammer, and he casts his eyes about for the source of the shot. His view is immediately obscured by the fleeing villagers, and he curses loudly in Khazalid, something colorful involving the dubious parentage of several people in front of him and a terrible misunderstanding of what animal husbandry actually means.
Would it be possible to have the relevant stat included for the Skill check moving forward? I have Perception in this case, and it's my fault for not writing down it's an Int-based Skill, but if we don't have it, it'll slow things down while we hunt for the appropriate stat. :)
Perception (vs 27): 1d100 ⇒ 99
Well, it's not the worst possible roll...
Perception(23): 1d100 ⇒ 44
Hargrin watches the Captain's speech, thinking "Bread and wine. This lot'll take any crumb they can get."
He listens with a jaundiced ear, having heard similar sentiments from his own superiors over the years.
When the shot rings out and the wine bottle shatters, Hargrin doesn't even flinch, merely raises his shield up into a guard position and scans the immediate area, confident the milling humans give him plenty of cover for the time being.
Having fought and survived against the forces of Chaos, none of you are unfamiliar with the sound of firearms, but given the fact the retreating smoke signature of the shot originated on the far side of the river somewhere in its ruined buildings the accuracy is disturbing to all of you. Yet, not nearly as disturbing as the five disgusting mutants swarming across the bridge behind the shot. Each carries with it the obvious caress of the Ruinous Powers, they also appear to be somewhere between adolescence and adulthood, though this matters little judging by the lifetime of hate gleaming in their bestial eyes.
Entering combat time. Relative to your positions the mutants are just now mounting the bridge screaming foul curses and brandishing simple and natural weapons. You have 3 rounds at most before their charge carries them into the scattering crowd which even now hinders the remnants of the town watch. The bridge is 16 yards wide by 40 yards long and in considerable disrepair which is hindering the approach of the mutants.
ooc]Would it be possible to have the relevant stat included for the Skill check moving forward? I have Perception in this case, and it's my fault for not writing down it's an Int-based Skill, but if we don't have it, it'll slow things down while we hunt for the appropriate stat. :)[/ooc]
For sure! :)
** spoiler omitted **
We will go with one. Given the relative surprise of the attack, the scattering crowd, and unless you had your crossbow in hand and primed it would take time to ready. Your yardage on the leading mutant is 50 yards. Think about it as shooting at someone on the other side of a crowded dance floor. If you still want to, it will be at a minus 30%.
As the source of the trouble is finally resolved, Oscar looks for a strategic place to position himself to intercept the beasts before they reach the innocents. He looks for a spot with cover from any gunshots, and that he can step around and engage when they get within melee range... hopefully so that he can put his back against the cover when they engage so that he can't be surrounded... but either way he advances his pick ready for combat
Oscar spits, and an ominous growl issues from deep in his barrel-like chest. "Beastmen. Warriors we must intercept them before they can harm innocents". he shouts as he heads for an ideal spot to begin the battle.
Eomund was no fierce fighter like the dwarf who bellowed out for other warriors. He looked around for a place to take cover and shoot at the enemy from behind. Nearby there was an abandoned cart of dung that was left unattended during the Captains speech. Running forward he tipped it onto its side. Crouching behind it for cover as he strung his bow and notched an arrow. Once the arrow is in place he raised his eyes above the edge of the cart. Ignoring the strong smell of house manure as best he can he searched. As his eyes strained for an open target the back of his mind mused on the words of the dwarf Innocents where there any of those left in this world. His innocence was driven away by hunger and how many more in the world were now like him.
Hargin grunts at the sight of the chaos cultists barreling towards the crowd.
"Och, these fools azre still about. Well. there's nothing for it.." he mutters in response to Oscar and runs forward, charging through the crowd, his face a terrible sneer, his axe and shield held firm...
With the crowd either bowled aside by burly dwarven builds or dispersed by their own fear, you each have a clear line of fire. The horridly mutated creatures have now gained have the bridge, but still picking their way about the debris and gaps. The nearest most of them (2) is 35 yards from those of you with missile weapons. None are armed with any sort missile weapon.
Having cleared the milling humans, Hargin sees he has a clear shot at the approaching mutants.
Taking a knee at the edge of the crowd, he lays his shield and axe to one side and brings his crossbow up. Laying in a bolt, he cranks the mechanism and once primed, aims and fires...
Crossbow, BS:34: 1d100 ⇒ 90
"Blast!" he exclaims as his shot goes awry.
Sliding his crossbow to his back, Hargin picks up his shield and axe, stands and prepares to hack and hew...
Damli pulls his hammer as he spies the mutants running toward the villagers across the bridge. Lacking any sort of ranged weapon, the best he can do is sprint for cover for the moment, ending up next to a Human with tawny hair and far better equipped to deal with ranged combat. "Ah hohpe yer good with taht bow, lad," he said to the archer. "Ah'll protect ye if tehy get too clohse."
Seeing that the closest target is outside ideal range Eomund grimaces. However he takes aim at the closest running mutant and lets fly with an arrow. Too many townsfolk around he worried to himself. Thank Sigmar for the dwarves charging the mutants.
Aim Half Action
Attack Half Action
AttackBSvs29: 1d100 ⇒ 20 Yes!
Damage: 1d10 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13 Woohoo!
UlricsFury: 1d10 ⇒ 10 Unbelievable!
UlricsAgain: 1d10 ⇒ 7
30 total damage! Not bad for a long shot.
You are right I got excited. A second hit is needed but then after that no further hits are needed. It has been too long.
ConfirmUlricsBSvs29: 1d100 ⇒ 95
Ok so ignore the Ulric's Fury part and only 13 damage. :(