Seeing another skaven fleeing near him, Hjalmar brought his gun around, tracking its movement, his tongue sticking out in concentration.
Once more Agatha bucked and spat in his hands, a clean shot tearing into the skaven.
"Well that was incredibly short sighted, he could have prepared the way for our forces. Ooh well i guess if a dwarf needs to shoot something better it then me, now unfortunately we have no idea where they came from or where we should head except down the road...
hopefully i can turn that unfortunately shortsighted move around and find another skaven cultist to prepare the way for us.
If we are camping this night then i will commune with LoS. Oh Unknowable Master what would you have me do, i gained and lost a follower to you, but i feel like we should still press forward.
XP and Coins
2 XP total
Sweet, sweet lucre! Coins.
Sprout Lore about the vial
Sprout Lore about the necklace
Dhice sidles up next to Myk-Myk as he and Hjalmar are discussing the Dwarven gods. When Myk-Myk starts explaining how Valaya's ministrations can right even the most grievous wounds and injuries back to a pristine state, his eyes light up. "Myk-Myk, do you think that if I held Valaya in my heart, that she would be capable of healing *this*?" He holds up his arms; the leather strips fall aside to reveal horrible, painful looking abrasions that run the length of his forearms. Puss-dripping scabs float on glistening pools of plasma on his ever-injured arms. They look disturbingly like every soldier's worst nightmare: burn wounds, but without the blackened crispiness.
"I think I'll join your service tomorrow as well."
Dhice starts to use his power in a more controlled fashion (Trickle) to move earth aside and expose half-buried Skaven and fallen comrades. He carefully searches them all and helps to move his fellow soldiers into place for proper burial.
Bathilda's mood lifts a little as she uncovers some coin. It wasn't much, but it'd be enough to enjoy a night or two in comfort when the group returned. She was even happier to find her gear, though she doesn't put on the armor, even with the ever present threat of another skaven raid. Chainmail and half-dried vomit was not a good combination, as she found out the night she had to carry Locrian and Dhice to their rooms. She spent half the night cleaning it until it stopped smelling of bile and half-digested food.
She only found one piece of salvage worth taking, though. And still no tub. It was looking like she'd have to bathe in the stream. That was going to be painful with her injuries and how cold the water was.
"Oi, Bathilda, good job back there." Hjalmar called out with a wave, walking up to the barbarian and planting an approving slap between her shoulder blades. "Things got a bit hairy, but you handled it like you always do, with yer fists." He laughed loudly. Following her gaze towards the stream and seeing her expression, Hjalmar had a rare moment of intuition. "Thinkin' about getting cleaned up?" He said, looking around. "You dont need an entire tub fer that, we can just heat some water in a pot and you do a sponge bath. It'll be better than takin' a dip atleast."
He started busying himself with collecting what they needed from the debris.
Bathilda staggers a little bit from Hjalmar's "pat," It almost sounds like she lets out a little squeak, but it could have been his imagination just as easily.
"You didn't get a vomit bath, Hjalmar. Besides, a hot bath and a hot meal will do me a lot more good than just getting the yuck off," she says, "not to mention that I'm going to be feeling sore tomorrow. Better get in a nice soak before moving becomes a pain."
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Dhice:"Myk-Myk, do you think that if I held Valaya in my heart, that she would be capable of healing *this*?"
"My friend Dhice, if there is being anything to be done for your arms, she is being glad to assist me."
Hjalmar:"My thanks to you and your lady, brother. I suppose it would be prudent to keep Valaya first and foremost in my prayers on this journey."
"I shall attend on the morrow."
"Good friends, I shall be glad for the seeing of you on the morrow! Sunrise! It is being a simple service, but good for the soothing of the soul."
Myk-Myk bids farewell to the pair as he goes about the grim task of cleaning up. Grigor joins him in the grim task.
"Ahh Grigor! I am glad for the having of your help! Valaya is calling for them to be buried, and strong backs are all the more welcomed for that task! Also we are of the needing of flint rocks and bundles of sticks. Oh! and steel! Nails from their boots will be doing nicely for that."
'Hmmm, this looks like it could be useful!'
Myk-Myk: You loot 2d6+10 gold coins, 2 Salvage items, 1 Healing Potion and a strange roll of what appear to stickers of some kind. There are 4 stickers, they're shaped like feathers, and they are glowing faintly.
Archepex: The arrows' mechanism is simple enough that I don't feel like I'm able to do a 7-9 Spout Lore answer properly, so I'll just answer fully for the arrows - they can only exist when the sun isn't shining and has never shone on them, but they cannot miss.
Thought of this as I was typing; I'll say that for a 7-9 result, you know what they are but you have no idea who makes them or where more can be found.
Grigor: You pop the cork on the vial and sniff it. You smell a strongly sweet odor, but the orange gas that begins to escape the vial when you pop the cork off makes you nervous, so you cork it up again quickly. The color of the gas is the same color that the Rat-Ogre's aura was when it was shrinking back to a normal rat.
The talisman is a mystery to you. You could always put it on yourself and see what happens...but that carries some potential risk. You've heard tales of magical items carrying booby-trap spells enchanted onto them. Mark an XP.
Bathilda: The Skaven didn't have time to properly loot all of your gear before the other Mercs appeared back from their reconnaissance trip, so you sigh with relief when you find the portable tub exactly where it was left before. Its purpose appears to have been lost on the dirty vermin.
When everyone is untied and the loot's been collected and distributed, Wicks calls out, Alright lads and lassies, we've had a rough go, but those stupid Skaven didn't get the better of us! We all owe a big thank-you to those of us who were able to defend us against the Skaven. And YOU..." he kicks one of the junior mercs, a young human famous for his laziness named Morley, viciously in the side. Morley groans in protest, "Not in the stab wound!" but Wicks doesn't seem to care. "You were on watch, you idjit! They snuck right past you and put their knives to our throats before you even stopped snoring! If I ever catch you sleeping on guard duty again, it won't be the rat-men you'll have to worry about!"
His admonishment done, Wicks sets the men and women of Mousetrap Company about gathering up supplies to break camp. The sun has fully risen now (remember, it was dawn when you were attacked) and he seems eager to get the company moving, despite the injuries that some of them sustained in captivity.
When you reach the end of a session, choose one of your bonds that you feel is resolved (completely explored, no longer relevant, or otherwise). Ask the player of the character you have the bond with if they agree. If they do, mark XP and write a new bond with whomever you wish.
Once bonds have been updated look at your alignment. If you fulfilled that alignment at least once this session, mark XP. Then answer these three questions as a group:
Did we learn something new and important about the world?
Did we overcome a notable monster or enemy?
Did we loot a memorable treasure?
For each “yes” answer everyone marks XP.
Rikard: I haven't forgotten your quest for guidance, but the Lord of Stars is infamously quiet during the daytime. You can hear faint whispering on the edge of your mind, but nothing more concrete than that. Your Lord will address you when the Daystar falls below the horizon.
Just as she's beginning to heat the water, Wicks calls for everyone to break camp. If it could be understood, her grumbling could be used in a case study on creative, inventive curses. She swiftly packs her share of the camp and rushes to some bushes shielding a section fo teh stream from the rest of the camp. A few minutes later, she's shivering, her hair is wet, and she's in a fresh change of clothing. A faint column of smoke can be seen coming from where she was.
When Wicks inevitably asks her where she went, all he gets in a glare that could cause even the hardiest soul to shrink back, and a single word, "Don't."
Archepex had his part of the camp broken in minutes. A few minutes later he had reported to the scout lead and is off on his duties as out rider and hunter. He is never to far, and Mule can always be seen circling in his general vicinity. he is never truly with the main coloumn of the company though. At least not today.
"Friend Dhice, how forgetful I am being. My greatest of apologizing!
"Friend Dhice, how forgetful I am being. My greatest of apologizing!
"Thank you MykMyk". The wounds that heal are Dhice's battle wounds, but the brutal forearms aren't affected by the healing magic. Clearly something unnatural or, at least, not mundane, is at the root of it.
Bathilda, the gathering of supplies and the rounding up of all the Skaven's gear takes some time. You're able to steal away and get yourself at least passably clean, should you attempt it...that being said, your glare at Wicks was pretty funny.
Myk-Myk, you sense the Goddess attempting to heal Dhice's dire wounds, but the magic can only make him hale, not healed. You may attempt a Spout Lore to see if your Priesthood has dealt with this problem in your memory; otherwise, it seems like a geas that only Dhice himself can purge from his body.
After about an hour's time, the mercenaries are fully ready to move. During that time, Wicks is conferring with the group of mercenaries (including Rikard) that he sent to explore the nearby abandoned town. Here is what they report:
The sign outside the abandoned town named it TOLLERHELM ON MIST RIVER. Many of the buildings are burned out, the windows shattered and the furniture scattered in the streets to rot. There was some evidence of local...creatures of some kind making their dwellings in the old foundations, but they didn't stick around long enough to see any. Up on a tall hill overlooking the town, they saw a mineshaft with Skaven-tracks leading up and down from it. They were on their way back to report their discovery when they found the party already under attack by rat-men.
Wicks glances around at anyone who would have been attending the debriefing. Though he is nominally in charge and is financing the expedition, Wicks tends to allow decisions to come about democratically for the Mousetrap mercs. Do any of you have anything to say on the matter?
Mooshy, what does an 8 get me for looting?
gain 2d6+6 coins, 1 Salvage, and 2 explosive flasks that deal your class damage in a near area around where you throw it.
Dhice shoves coins into his pockets, to be more carefully cleaned off, wrapped in a rag and stashed in his pack later.
With the explosive vials, he cautiously approaches Bathilda, where he waits for a moment to gain her attention. "er..." he stumbles, "Bathilda I thought you might make better use of these than me. You could throw these deep into a Skaven horde and terrify them long before I could hope of hitting them." He sort of shrugs his bony shoulders and nods at his stick-thin arm as he says it. "That extra time might save a life one day. Do you want these?"
"Before committing the main force, we should send a scouting unit, first. If I can get someone to look to my remaining wounds, I'd be happy to lead that unit, Wicks."
Archepex, fully geared and ready, also speaks, I also voulenteer, Wicks. My duties can be assumed by Jensen, as long as he keeps that pup of his under control.
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With Grigor leading the scouting party Dhice immediately jumps to attention and volunteers like a good soldier would (at least he assumes that's what a good soldier would do).
"That mine probably isn't particularly stable if its been abandoned and the supports left to rot. I'll go with the scouting party to try to stabilize things if the mine has to be investigated."
Seeing Dhice come, Bathilda manages work up a weak smile. The mage wasn't the strongest, nor the bravest or most confident, but she found him amusing and the lad did try.
Seeing the vials, she raises an eyebrow.
"Uh, Dhice, would you care to explain how they are supposed to scare the skaven? One or two isn't that hard, but a horde of them takes having a horde of men yourself, all of them armed to the teeth," she says.
Hearing about the scouting party, and itching for a little payback, she approaches Mykmyk.
"Psst, priest. Can I see you for a second."
I'd like to add the bond Mykmyk is the only one who's ever seen me give in and show pain. What's the point of hiding it if he's going to point it out anyway?
Wicks taps his chin as he regards Dhice. "You did some...er...mostly good work with the Skaven ambush," he mutters, almost to himself, as he considers the mercenaries gathered around. "If the Skaven looted the town, it'd make sense for them to gather their hoard in the nearby mine shaft. Matches what we know of Skaven behavior. Still, it's a damn good place to get ambushed, again." He considers a moment, then nods. "We'll all advance into town, quiet-like, try not to disturb anything squatting there. Then you, Dhice, along with you, you, you, you, you, you and you," pointing to Bathilda, Archepex, Grigor, Hjalmar, Myk-Myk, Locrian, Azeban, and Rikard, "will delve into the mines and let us know what you find. I'll use the speaking shell to keep tabs." You all recall during the past 6 months of adventuring with Wicks, that he has used his speaking-shell (which is enchanted with divination magic, as a favor he called in from a witch) to speak over long distances with members of the Mousetrap company. The shell is tied to a specially marked coin that each Mousetrap merc carries on his or her person, including you all. "In the meantime," Wicks finishes, "the rest of the Company will be rigging the entrance to the mine. When you all are done in there, we'll blow it. Prevent any more Skaven from getting a foothold in the area."
Let's be off, then, everyone. As you approach the mines, you face a choice that Wicks puts to a vote. You can take the more direct approach that increases your chances of running afoul of the locals that are now squatting in the abandoned town, or you can spend the better part of the day looping around it, and all spend 1 ration. What do you do?
"I was just thinking that you'd be able to throw these much farther than I could, and that they'd probably shatter and splash in a larger arc because of that. All in all, they'd be more useful and dangerous in your hands than mine, especially since I'd be more effective just launching rocks at them anyway."
"Yessir, I'll get moving right away sir!" (and later)"I vote to go through town. Circling around might avoid a confrontation, but then we might end up with trouble both in front and behind us at the mineshaft."
I say we go through the town. There will be no ambush if the scouts do their job, which I intend to ensure.
Almost as an afterthought, Archepex adds, Should everyone approve, I will try to track these Skaven. I might be able to learn something of them from their passing.
"Aye, sign me up for goin' through." Hjalmar said with a sagely nod. He hefted his rifle onto his shoulder, patting it lovingly. "Just hope we wont have to fight a silent fight at any point, Agatha isnt the type to keep quiet." He flashed a wicked grin. "She speaks her mind loud and clear."
He looked around the group. "Which reminds me, anyone happen to find a weapon I could have in case things get up close and personal? I mean, Agathas butt makes for a compellin' argument all its own in a scuffle, but she aint exactly made for quick work." He pantomimed fencing, showing some obvious skill had he had an actual dagger or cutlass.
"The consensus seems to be going straight through town. That works for me."
Another one of the Mousetrap mercs, a terribly racist but otherwise pleasant old dwarf named Ricardo, proffers a scimitar to Hjalmar. "This is the last time I replace yer cutlass, you damn pirate," he grumbles, but there's a twinkle in his eye. He only doesn't despise dwarves and is only with Mousetrap for the money; Hjalmar is one of the few dwarves in the company, and he gets preferential treatment from the crusty old coot. He often tries to share his racist jokes about elves, halflings and humans with Hjalmar when the mercenary company has camped for the night. It's up to Hjalmar how those are received.
Wicks nods when everyone agrees to take the direct route. "That's about what I expected from the lot of you," he says, crossing his arms and smirking. "Well then, I'll keep the rest of Mousetrap Company back while you make your way through the abandoned town. Give us the all-clear when you can."
All of you begin your descent into Tollerhelm On Mist River. The town was built on a vast plain that the fullest extent of civilization could not fully cover, with rocky hills to the north where the mine could be found. The mine is visible from practically every point in town, especially the main street, which seems to be an extension of the road leading to the mineshaft's entrance.
The buildings in this town have broken windows and char-blackened exteriors. A fire raged through here, though it appears to have been quenched before it could burn everything to the ground - by rain, perhaps.
As he almost always does in these situations, Archepex takes point. His elven eyes and ears are on high alert as Mule takes to the skies overhead for air cover. He leads the expedition through the town stealthily, keeping to side alleyways where possible, and skirting the front facades of the burnt-out buildings when impossible.
You come upon an obstacle - some kind of barrier constructed from a massive pile of wreckage blocks the road. There's a small hole you could crawl through to get through, single-file...or you could try to clear the path yourselves...or you could go around through one of the houses on this street, where there are holes in the walls you can climb through to proceed.
You're standing near to the main street of town, considering. Archepex, you and anyone else that's carefully listening can hear the occasional sound of movement as you creep through town, but nothing has been sighted yet. Just disturbed rocks falling over other rocks in the rubble. The buildings in Tollerhelm were built tall, and they seem to tower over the main street, making this area darker then outside of town.
Everyone, what do you do?
Archepex signals for the troop to fall back into cover. He whispers to the next person behind him , Pass the word. I'm going to scout these buildings here. Stay low.
He then disappears into the rubble to find a way around. Mule glides between ruined walls, searching for trouble ahead of his Biped.
Dhice is next in line, and he nods at Archepex. "I think I could probably widen that hole to fit two people by shifting some of the stone blocks in there, if you decide that detouring through the buildings isn't safe enough."
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The failure to cure Dhice's forearms puzzles Myk-Myk. He was sure Lady Valaya answered his prayer, yet the arms remained, for lack of a better term, burned.
He consults the Blessed Tome to see if he can learn any secrets in there.
After that proves less than fruitful, he searches for any mention of the odd roll of stickers found amongst the loot.
Well, that didn't work out so well either. Myk-Myk is really too concerned trying to figure out miscellany so that he misses most of what is said about sneaking through the town...except for Grigors request for patching up his arm. Seeing an opporunity for a simple task that won't test his intelligence any further, he pulls out a bandage and gets to work patching up the fighter.
Grigor +4 HP
Archepex, you slip silently into the buildings on the far side of the street from where the party is hunkered down beneath an awning. Immediately your ears pick up on movement all around you, but the cadence of the steps doesn't sound quite human. Cautiously, you nock an arrow and drag back on the bowstring, preparing for another Skaven or animal attack.
A praying mantis about the size of a Labrador retriever rounds the corner, inside the burned-out house that you're in. It notices you and its head twitches back and forth, its claws flexing slightly, but it holds its ground. What do you do?
Meanwhile, those outside can see that there's clothing, toys, and other remains of the people that once lived in Tollerhelm, scattered about inside the shells of the structures that once proudly stood here. The atmosphere is grey and the sunlight above barely pierces the clouds. Those of you who are attentively listening can hear the occasional sound of movement nearby, but try as you might, you can't find the source...
Archepex swallows hard. Mantises are ambush predators, but that didn't mean they weren't dangerous when spotted. He backs away slowly in an attempt to withdraw to the group.
As the elven ranger backs away cautiously from the mantis, his mind racing, his attention split between his memory and the threat in front of him, he overlooks the weak spot in the floorboards behind him. Mule screams a warning, but a second too late - the ashen wood gives way under the ranger's weight, and with a shout of surprise, Archepex falls into the basement! There's dirt and dust all around you, ranger, making it nearly impossible to see from the fall. Take 1d6 damage, also. What do you do?
Everyone else, Archepex wasn't far into the abandoned building across the street before you hear a shout, Mule screeching, and a crash of breaking wood and debris. What do you do?
Hjalmar quite enjoyed Ricardos company, the old dwarf being a font of good dwarven values, made for a comforting link to the heritage he had nonetheless left behind all those years ago when he chose the road over hearth and kin. He also found it rather amusing that such a dwarf would have such an un-dwarven name. While Hjalmar personally held no real animosity for other races, except for the stereotypes, he knew a good joke when he heard it, racist or not.
"You know darn well that the previous ones were lost to good honest rat bashin'. Maybe yer steel just isnt up to the task?" He said jokingly with a laugh, accepting the offered cutlass with a nod of gratitude.
"Sounds like we better get in there." Hjalmar said rather loudly, pulling his newly acquired cutlass. Going room to room really was no battlefield for a musket.
Waving for the others to follow along, he started heading inside at a steady yet light toed pace, not stopping to check if anyone was following.
You know for a fact, Hjalmar, that Ricardo refuses to acknowledge that his name is a human one. "I'm a dwarf, it's my name, it's a dwarf name dammit!" is all he will reply when asked. It's a...sore subject for the old codger.
Archepex falls, twists, and manages to land on his back. It's a hard landing, but he is unarmed. He immediately looks around and assesses his surroundings.
- what here is useful to me
Dhice follows Hjalmar towards the commotion in the building.
Bathilda looks about, obviously bored, but very carefully avoids mentioning it.
Archepex manages to twist himself mid-air to allow his armor to cushion the blow. It knocks the wind out of him, but he remains unhurt. Rising to his knees, he looks up. Mule is screaming down at him from the rafters of the building, but looks unable to fly down to you; there isn't enough room for his wingspan.
You can hear crackling and rustling in every direction all around you. There's very little light down here, and what you can see is blocked by the high levels of dust your fall kicked up - but you see a rope that you could try to use to shimmy up through the hole. You appear to be kneeling on a small pile of debris. Looking around you, you can see that the basement is much larger than the house above it implied. You can see something like paint on the basement floor...
Hjalmar, you follow the elf into the building he went into and see that Mule is perched above a hole in the floor. Over to your right is an open doorway with three large praying mantises, their large claws opening and closing slowly as their heads twist back and forth. Their alien-like bug eyes regard you carefully, and you can hear movement to your left and above you. What do you do?
Rikard will stay to the rear of those approaching the building that archepex fell into.
Looking around for signs of his followers Rikard notices a few of the hidden symbols on the doors of buildings they are passing.
Apparently i may have followers here if that "we are legion" works for this area
Archepex has an arrow knocked in a heart beat. He slowly moves to the paint to see what it is. There's a good chance his teammates heard his fall, so he wanted to at least tell them something of what was down here.
Noticing that there's some commotion going on, Bathilda looks in and sees the hole and the mantises.
"Oi, Points, ya a'right," she calls down the hole as she eyes the bugs.
Sorry Rikard, but that applies to when you're entering civilization. This town's been completely cleared out; it doesn't count as civilization anymore, because there's nothing left of civilization. It's just a bunch of burned-out buildings, so there are no actual cultists here, but...you touch your fingers lightly to a symbol on one of the buildings. There were believers in the Lord of Stars here, at one point in this very building, marked by this seemingly-innocent notch on a very specific part and configuration of the doorway. Perhaps a treasure of the cult, or some information, might yet remain in this town.
Archepex, you step out of the beam of light coming from the hole you made in the roof above you and your eyes begin to adjust to the light. You've fallen into an enormous summoning circle that spans the entire width and breadth of the basement. There are also a large number of mantises emerging from nests that have been built on the circle, looking at you. What do you do?