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”Bah! Bloody Morrsleib! Let’s just kill everything in here and report this to the Witch Hunters, eh?!” Valghaz said, exasperated as his hands became stained. ”We’re in a necromancer’s tower, aye? So think for now on let’s just treat this as an everything is evil type place.” After a moment to calm he self, he added ”Unless it’s gold, of course. That’s a case by case basis.”
Landolf agreed with Valghaz. He'd suffered from being overly curious before. "Aye, we don't need to know what this madman was thinking. Let's put an end to whatever monsters lurk about."
Continuing through the underground facility, you find that the next room is full of unusual equipment. The room is littered with alchemical apparatus. Benches are piled with beakers, retort stands, odd-shaped jars, lumps of different ores, and so on. Various esoteric calculations have been chalked on most surfaces: the walls, ceiling, floor, and bench tops. A gargoyle-shaped lectern bearing a large, leather-bound book stands in one corner.
The book is hand-written in Classical language and has copious marginalia and multiple revisions. It will likely take days to read through the book but from the drawings it does seem to have something to do with zombies.
There seems to be nothing else of note within the dungeon. If you try the star shaped keys in the hexagram you find that each key inserted causes the lines of the hexagram near it to glow. However, you only have 5 keys, there’s a sixth one someplace.
Looking at the titles and the conditions of the books, Ruprecht realizes that most are not worth more than the paper used in their writing. However, he find four books that seem quite valuable indeed. The books are all first editions, one being The Great Enchanter by noted playwright and director, Detlef Sierck. Another is a book called Magnus the Pious, I was there written by a priest of Sigmar that was a companion of the great Magnus. A third book is entitled, A Traveler’s Guide to Far Cathay written by a M. Polo. Lastly there’s a book called, Recipes from the Moot by Able Underjoy containing dozens of the best recipes of the Halfling. Each of the books is worth about 10 Gold Crowns (40 Crowns total).
Climbing back up through the trap door, you find the dwarven work crew looking at all of you expectantly. ”What did you find?”
"Undead." Valghaz replied. "A ghoul and a band of zombies. We put them down. There's also a wizard's studies, complete with alchemical goods and a library. It's pretty clear that he practiced dark arts. The entire tower should be consecrated. Ye should send to the nearest town for a priest, and given that yer buildin' a tower for the Emperor, I'd send for witch hunters to thoroughly inspect what is here." Realizing that he was in fact a witch hunter, he added "We would stay longer, but I have an oath to the Cult of Sigmar to fulfill that takes me elsewhere. Before we leave, we'll burn the bodies to ensure that they cannot rise up again. With naught but the wizard's tools down there, the immediate danger has passed."
Krizta brings up the keys, the staff, and the leather-bound book, which she wants to read to find out what was going on down there.
"If it will help you feel more at ease, we can show you around down below. Don't touch anything or look at much too deeply. As Valghaz said, the studies done below seem accursed to me."
"That said, we should probably see to the Lady and our beds. I don't think there is anything further we can do here, and we don't want to fall any further behind on our journey upriver," Landolf said.
"Let's get what sleep we can. We can report to Count Boorman in the morning and get underway again."
"Undead." Valghaz replied. "A ghoul and a band of zombies. We put them down. There's also a wizard's studies, complete with alchemical goods and a library. It's pretty clear that he practiced dark arts. The entire tower should be consecrated. Ye should send to the nearest town for a priest, and given that yer buildin' a tower for the Emperor, I'd send for witch hunters to thoroughly inspect what is here." Realizing that he was in fact a witch hunter, he added "We would stay longer, but I have an oath to the Cult of Sigmar to fulfill that takes me elsewhere. Before we leave, we'll burn the bodies to ensure that they cannot rise up again. With naught but the wizard's tools down there, the immediate danger has passed."
Aynjulls Is shocked by your findings. ”Ghouls and zombies and a wizard’s lair. We will send for help from Castle Reikguard immediately. Maybe this will convince them to not decrease our commission for being behind schedule. Thank you all so much for your help,” she says and hands Valghaz a small leather bag. ”I’d give you lot more if I had it but I still have to pay the lads. It’s a little something which is much better than a little nothing as my Gran would always say.”
Krizta brings up the keys, the staff, and the leather-bound book, which she wants to read to find out what was going on down there.
As Krizta begins to move away from the tower, the staff she has picked up begins to grow warm. With every step towards the Reik, the staff gets hotter. By the time Krizta is half-way to the river the staff has gotten too hot to carry in bare hands.
"If it will help you feel more at ease, we can show you around down below. Don't touch anything or look at much too deeply. As Valghaz said, the studies done below seem accursed to me."
"That said, we should probably see to the Lady and our beds. I don't think there is anything further we can do here, and we don't want to fall any further behind on our journey upriver," Landolf said.
"Let's get what sleep we can. We can report to Count Boorman in the morning and get underway again."
Boorman is fascinated by your tales of daring do and listens enraptured as you describe the battles below the tower. Boorman also looks with interest at the books you found in the library, ”Ah yes, Detlef’s play. I already have a signed first edition of that. I’ve actually invested in a couple of his plays. Interesting chap. Moot recipes, hmmm, not really my sort of thing. Oh, look at this…the Magnus book. You know that book is quite controversial…some swear it’s complete hogwash and others say the opposite. If you ever get to Nuln, you’ll be able to get quite a good price for that one. I’m sure you all know that the great Magnus is from Nuln and everything about his life sells well to the pilgrims that follow his footsteps. Now this last book, the traveler’s guide, that would fit in quite nicely in my library. I’d be willing to buy it for, oh, let’s say 20 Crowns.”
As Krizta is listening before they go she hears Landolf say
"Don't touch anything or look too deeply" and wonders why he didn't warn her of that. Maybe they thought she already knew? Did she do wrong picking up the stick, or bringing the keys and the book? Was this the faithlessness that had been foretold on her tenth birthday? Was she lost to Sigmar already?
As they traveled towards the ship, the staff she was carrying kept getting warmer, until it was almost too hot to touch. She know that must be the evil thing they had warned about, and told the others to go ahead and then buried it, hoping to keep it from hurting anyone else.
She hadn't known. What kind of world could cause you to lose your faith or your inner belief against your wishes? That didn't seem right. But if that is the world she was living in... were her parents dead already?
She trudged back to the ship, wondering if there was any point to anything anymore. If it was fate and she couldn't do anything about it, then why try... what was the point of anything at all in this world without choice?
Valghaz thanked his kinswoman for the gold, speaking a blessing of Grungni in thanks. As to the staff, he walked up to Kirzta and said "The cult of Sigmar is comin' to cleanse this place. That staff, if buried here, might be overlooked by them, aye? Let's return it to the tower and tell me kith that it must nay be touched except by those trained in the disposal of unholy artifacts, aye?"
"Thank you for the advice, Count Boorman. If you can use the traveler's guide, we'd be happy to sell it to you."
Krizta, busy digging a hole half way between the dwarven place they had been to and the ship, looks surprised that Valghaz stayed to observe her rather than moving on as she had requested.
You want to take it back there instead, feel free, but be careful, it's hot.
She leaves the staff in the hole, rubs the dirt off her hands, and walks away, going back to the ship.
Valghaz shrugged. "Got to look out for each other." With that he took off his cloak and used it to pick up the staff, not wanting to touch it with his hands. Such protected he returned it to the tower, where they found it, and passed on the message that it was not to be touched or moved except by professionals. He left it wrapped in his cloak, no longer wishing to wear what he feared to be tainted.
A steady Northwest breeze fills the sails of the Lucky Lady and she makes excellent time heading up the river. By late afternoon, Diesdorf comes into view.
The small town sits on a bend of the Reik and consists of a several commercial buildings (mostly warehouses), a few taverns and what seems to be about 30 houses. Diesdorf is well known for only two things: corn and Magnus the Pious. The small town is the shipping spot for the entire regions corns crop and as the location where Magnus gave a particularly legendary speech it’s a site of pilgrimage for many Sigmar worshippers.
Normally this time of year the docks would be quiet but instead there’s quite a commotion. One of the large warehouses has been burnt to the ground. Another warehouse appears to have been looted. A river barge is moored at one of the docks but is half-sunken into the river and its topside has been severely damaged. Two more barges are anchored in the river and an angry mob is gathered on the docks screaming insults and threats at the boatmen. The mob is made up of men, women and children and looks to include almost every citizen of the little town.
As Ruprecht steers the Lucky Lady towards the town, all eyes (townsfolk and boatmen) turn in your direction.
Deciding that the spectacle was decidedly not their problem, Valghaz stood on the deck with his pick resting on his shoulder. He met the gazes of the townsfolk, looking at them and standing in a way which said that he was not the type of person who should be messed with.
Krizta calls across
In the name of Sigmar, what conflict is this?
Sometimes, I wonder what happened to the little, charming, peaceful villages and towns of the Empire... Maybe they can't be reached by boat? That would be just our luck.
Fortune re roll
SL 0
Knowing she has no authority here, Adelaida feels compelled to try to bring back some kind of order
By the two-tailed comet of Sigmar, what is happening here? I was hoping this holy place would be quiet and law-abiding, not a scene of wild turmoil by a bunch of rabble rousers. Explain yourself now, with calm and dignity, as befell citizens of Diesdorf, where Magnus the Pious spoke so eloquently of Sigmar.
Deciding that the spectacle was decidedly not their problem, Valghaz stood on the deck with his pick resting on his shoulder. He met the gazes of the townsfolk, looking at them and standing in a way which said that he was not the type of person who should be messed with.
[dice=Intimidate 60]1d100
The children on the dock hide behind their mothers. The adults look uncomfortable.
Krizta calls across
In the name of Sigmar, what conflict is this?
A cacophony of competing voices starts up.
The townsfolk yell that they’re starving and the barges are refusing to sell their supplies of wheat at a price the townsfolk can afford. ”They want us to pay 5, even 10 times the normal price for grain. We don’t have that much money so now they are demanding we sign over our property to them or starve!”
The bargemen look at you all as potential allies. ”The townsfolk are nothing but wreckers. They swarmed the Bear’s Feast, captured the crew, stole the cargo and sunk the barge. Now they demand we give them our cargo’s at a discount or they’ll string up the crew of the Bear’s Feast. Us riverfolk gotta stick together against these townies. With you lot, we’ve got enough fighters to burn their rat pit of a town to the ground.”
Both groups look to you, especially your scary dwarf, hoping that you’ll take their side.
Sometimes, I wonder what happened to the little, charming, peaceful villages and towns of the Empire... Maybe they can't be reached by boat? That would be just our luck.
[dice=Leadership (43)]1d100
Fortune re roll
[dice=Leadership (43)]1d100 SL 0Knowing she has no authority here, Adelaida feels compelled to try to bring back some kind of order
By the two-tailed comet of Sigmar, what is happening here? I was hoping this holy place would be quiet and law-abiding, not a scene of wild turmoil by a bunch of rabble rousers. Explain yourself now, with calm and dignity, as befell citizens of Diesdorf, where Magnus the Pious spoke so eloquently of Sigmar.
The two groups resort to name-calling and threats towards each other as they wait for your crew to decide what to do.
Krizta talks to her friends in a lower voice that doesn't carry to the shore.
Seems like both sides are in the wrong. The riverfolk for trying to gouge these people in their desperation, and the people for destroying property because they were desperate. Shall we try to force a compromise rather than help them kill each other?
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"I'm not sure how we could force a compromise. Burning the barge seems to have cut off a lot of potential avenues for agreement. That said, I'm not about to start cutting down hungry townsfolk."
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Valghaz listened to what Landolf said and chuckled. ”Aye. Good business sense.” Then turning to the crowd he bellowed out the offer.
”Oi! Here’s how it’ll be then. We have grain here ourselves. Wasn’t planning on selling it here, but we’ll show what fair trade be like. Will sell what we have. For this many bushels? Forty five gold! Enough to cover us with this shortage, but a fair price. Then what was taken from these merchants be returned to them, or bought at the same price that we be selling at. The town doesn’t starve, a fair profit is made, and nay anyone gets hurt. That is, unless any of ye be thinking of playin’ a dirty trick on us. Which if so, I guarantee that the first one who gets in arm’s reach of me won’t have any workin’ arms himself.” As he said this he held his pick in one hand and pointed it at the assembled crowd.
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Count Boorman disappears into his cabin along with his valet and both footmen. Several minutes pass before Boorman reappears, now in formal court garb accompanied by his two footmen dressed now in Imperial Guard uniforms. One of his men holds Boorman’s Rod of Office which is bestowed only on the highest ranking emissaries of the Emperor himself. The other footman holds a golden banner displaying a rearing Griffon on a sable field along with the Boorman family motto of Always Faithful To The Holy Emperor. If it was not clear before it should be now that Boorman is a very important man in the Empire.
The Count listens to Valghaz’s proposal with approval. ”Well said Templar. Have you considered a diplomatic career? I am good friends with the dwarven ambassador in Altdorf and he is always complaining of a lack of suitable talent. I would be pleased to introduce you to the ambassador once I am again in the capital.” That said, Boorman turns and looks at the crowd that watches and waits. He snaps his fingers and his valet brings him a clever dwarven speaking device that will amplify Boorman’s words.
”LADIES, GENTLEMEN, CHILDREN, TOWNSFOLK AND RIVERFOLK, THE DWARF MAKES A FAIR OFFER FOR ALL. AS THE DULY EMPOWERED REPRESENTATIVE OF HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, I CAN ASSURE YOU THAT THE CROWN STANDS WITH THIS BRAVE TEMPLAR AND FOURSQUARE BEHIND HIS PROPOSAL. DO I MAKE THE SITUATION CLEAR?,” Boorman bellows at the watching people. Seeing reluctant agreement on all the faces in the crowd, Boorman a gives the crowd a dismissive wave and then turns and makes his way back to his private cabin.
Krizta gets to work hauling grain out of the hold.
Valghaz blinked in surprise as the Count came up and made his appearance. It was a stark reminder as to how important a personage was on their barge, and how pressing the matter was to deliver him safely. But for all of that, nothing compared to the offer of introductions. Up until recently he was naught but a poor miner who had left hearth and home in search of fairer mines. It was only recently that he had achieved anything resembling true station, and to be offered introductions to the ambassador for the Karaz Ankor? It was unthinkable. He had faced down all manner of creatures in the past few months. Goblins, mutants, a troll, a vampire, daemons...and yet somehow the idea of meeting a white-bearded dignitary was scarier than all of those combined. Certainly he would be seen through, and would be exposed for what he was. A poor miner from a poor hold whose veins of gold and silver had long since been tapped out. And yet it was still an honor that he felt was impossible to turn away from. Catching himself, he put a fist over his heart, nodded to the Count and spoke:
"Ye do me far too much honor. I am but a humble servant of the Gods and must answer to the Cult of Grungni. But should I be fortunate enough to be in Altdorf and to be in yer company, then it would be churlish of me to turn down such an invitation. Any task that strengthens the alliance between Sigmar and the Dawi is the duty of all."
He decided that it would be foolish to close any doors, or to hastily agree to anything which could be taken as an oath. It was best to let the future come as it may, while focusing on the task at hand.
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Adelaida nods at the noble Count Boorman's words to the crowd, which sounds both wise and full of confident power.
I wish I could speak like that. Speaking like you're used to be listened to, and no one dares speaking after you.
She realises that she even stepped back a few paces when the noble arrived, to give him the whole space of the scene.
She beams with proudness when he mentions her Brother, and let hear that a position of responsabity might await him later.
Then, she goes back to more mundane work, helping Kritza discharging the grain
Let's get that grain out so it can be sold and nourish the people of the Empire.
As he watched Count Boorman deliver orders to the crowd, Landolf could only think of the stories his mother used to tell him. None he could think of so directly dealt with a nobleman of the Empire ordering large crowds, but the majesty of an office of the Empire was just as impressive as he imagined.
Relieved to see that his suggestion looked like it be accepted by the crowd of onlookers, Landolf started moving the barrels of grain out of the Lucky Lady.
As the work neared completion, he stepped back. "I should go finish the deal and hopefully find some new cargo to haul. After that display it would be best if I looked the part, I think." Absent argument, he goes to change into his noble outfit.
Accompanied by Yvonne, Landolf went to go meet with any notable he could find and inquire about new cargo.
The crowd helps you all unload the barge and one of the town’s merchants hands over 45 Gold Crowns in payment. Neither the townsfolk or the riverfolk are very happy with the price for the grain which probably means that it’s a fair bargain. As you pull away from the dock, one of the other barges moves to take your place to offload it’s grain.
Boorman joins you all on deck as you head back into the mighty River Reik. He says, ”another crisis dealt with for now, at least no one in Diesdorf will starve before the new corn crop is harvested. Of course, they will be very impoverished for years from this. That should teach them a lesson about safeguarding their warehouses in the future. If they are too stupid to learn there are other towns that would dearly love to take the corn trade away.”
Kemperbad sits atop a 500-foot cliff overlooking the Reik, just north of its confluence with the River Stir. The Stir originally plunged over a mighty waterfall into the Reik, but the river has cut a narrow gorge into the cliffs. The waterfall has slowly moved upstream to its present location at the confluence of the Stir and Narn. The gorge of the Stir is crossed by a narrow rope bridge, and this makes the town all but inaccessible to southern road traffic.
Fortunately for commerce, a dock has been built on the Reik at the base of the cliffs. This is connected to the town by an ingenious system of lifts. There are baskets and platforms of varying sizes, suspended from huge block and tackle sets on Elven ropes, and all raised and lowered by counterbalances. The system is maintained and operated by Dwarven engineers. Remarkably, there has been only one fatal accident in the last fifty years. Some drunken young nobles tried to race each other to the bottom. The winner was too unwell to claim his prize.
Valghaz blinked in surprise as the Count came up and made his appearance. It was a stark reminder as to how important a personage was on their barge, and how pressing the matter was to deliver him safely. But for all of that, nothing compared to the offer of introductions. Up until recently he was naught but a poor miner who had left hearth and home in search of fairer mines. It was only recently that he had achieved anything resembling true station, and to be offered introductions to the ambassador for the Karaz Ankor? It was unthinkable. He had faced down all manner of creatures in the past few months. Goblins, mutants, a troll, a vampire, daemons...and yet somehow the idea of meeting a white-bearded dignitary was scarier than all of those combined. Certainly he would be seen through, and would be exposed for what he was. A poor miner from a poor hold whose veins of gold and silver had long since been tapped out. And yet it was still an honor that he felt was impossible to turn away from. Catching himself, he put a fist over his heart, nodded to the Count and spoke:
[dice=Charm 31]1d100
"Ye do me far too much honor. I am but a humble servant of the Gods and must answer to the Cult of Grungni. But should I be fortunate enough to be in Altdorf and to be in yer company, then it would be churlish of me to turn down such an invitation. Any task that strengthens the alliance between Sigmar and the Dawi is the duty of all."
He decided that it would be foolish to close any doors, or to hastily agree to anything which could be taken as an oath. It was best to let the future come as it may, while focusing on the task at hand.
”Let me know when you are next in Altdorf and it will be my honor to introduce you to Vandrin Thorikson, direct descendant of the great Athranbor Thorikson and Dwarven ambassador for Karaz-a-Karak,” Boorman says in almost flawless Khazalid.
Adelaida nods at the noble Count Boorman's words to the crowd, which sounds both wise and full of confident power.
I wish I could speak like that. Speaking like you're used to be listened to, and no one dares speaking after you.
She realises that she even stepped back a few paces when the noble arrived, to give him the whole space of the scene.
She beams with proudness when he mentions her Brother, and let hear that a position of responsabity might await him later.
Then, she goes back to more mundane work, helping Kritza discharging the grain
Let's get that grain out so it can be sold and nourish the people of the Empire.
”Well said…well said…Sigmar be praised,” Boorman’s valet says to you quietly before kissing a golden comet on a chain that hangs around his neck and then letting it drop back onto his chest.
As he watched Count Boorman deliver orders to the crowd, Landolf could only think of the stories his mother used to tell him. None he could think of so directly dealt with a nobleman of the Empire ordering large crowds, but the majesty of an office of the Empire was just as impressive as he imagined.
Relieved to see that his suggestion looked like it be accepted by the crowd of onlookers, Landolf started moving the barrels of grain out of the Lucky Lady.
As the work neared completion, he stepped back. "I should go finish the deal and hopefully find some new cargo to haul. After that display it would be best if I looked the part, I think." Absent argument, he goes to change into his noble outfit.
Accompanied by Yvonne, Landolf went to go meet with any notable he could find and inquire about new cargo.
[dice=Gossip 44 +10 Yvonne assist]1d100
Yvonne is able to pick up a rumor from one of the corn merchants who watch as your cargo is unloaded. Looking around to make sure he’s not overheard he says, People are whispering that something bad has happened to the Emperor. He hasn't been seen for a long time now. Perhaps too long…
As you all maneuver the Lucky Lady towards the docks you see a company of liveried soldiers clearing civilians away from one of the larger jetties. ”Dock there,” one of Boorman’s footmen tells you. ”His nibs always makes an entrance…makes it easier dealing with the locals.”
As you tie up, Boorman’s valet appears on deck and makes a signal towards the welcoming party. A fanfare of trumpets ring out as Boorman, once again dressed in formal court garb and proceeded by his footmen in the Imperial Guard uniforms, makes his way down the gangway. One of the footmen carry Boorman’s family golden banner while the other carries his rod of office. A guard officer steps smartly forward to greet him, and with another flourish of trumpets, the two step into the dockside lift and are borne up to the town. The company follows them, occupying all available lifts until all are in the town. Boorman’s valet stays long enough to give you instructions as to where to deliver the luggage and also pays you the remaining 10 Crown fee for transporting the Count.
Kemperbad. This wasn't just any town. This was a city. And not just any city, it was a free city. A city which had been owned by Reikland, Talabechland and Stirland in different parts of its history, but which had bought it's independence. While not in such as ostentatious way as Marienburg did, it was enough to ensure that it's nobility was renowned for their fabulous wealth. Not that Valghaz knew any of this. If he did, then he would have insisted on trying their legendary brandy. And if he knew about the dangers that came from organized crime within the city, he would certainly have not gone off by himself. Sadly, he was as knowledgeable about the town as he was of Kislev. Which was to say, not at all.
So instead, he went off by himself, looking for the inevitable dwarven quarter. He figured, that failing that, he would just have to find a dwarven owned tavern. That was because he had letters to send. The first was to the Temple of Grungni in Altdorf. It was a short letter, explaining what had happened at the tower. He decided that it was important, given the unholy artifacts within it, for the Cult of know about it as soon as possible. If for nothing else than to ensure the safety of the workers for when the Templars of Sigmar came. The letter itself did not offer any such advice. Rather it was as dry as possible, laying out the facts in unbiased detail. He figured that it would be presumptuous for him to offer advice to those who were both gray and long of beard. It was his role to merely ensure that the proper information came back as quickly and accurately as possible.
The second letter though? That one required a different messenger. One who was heading to Karak Azgaraz. That letter was of far less import, but it had to be made nonetheless. It was to his Clan.
Honored Throngrink*,
I write again in a short span because outside of the mountains life moves quickly. Not long ago, I was summoned to Altdorf by the Cult of Grungni. The mercenary company that I am a part of destroyed a cult of the Old Night and saved an Imperial town. For this, I was inducted into the Order of the Stone Wall. If I had been within the hold, then this decision would certainly have been under the purview of my elders. However, I was told that the runes had spoken, and that I was to travel south alongside a priestess of Sigmar. In the name of our Clan, I accepted the honor. Having just completed the task in the Order's name, as we purged a tower of uzkular* which had been preying on dawi masons, As such, my life is now sworn in the service of Grungni. I know not when I might return to hearth and hold, and as such have sent this missive to inform you of these events.
- Valghaz Ironhammer
* Clan Elder
* Undead
He wanted to write more. To ask of his friends and family. To wish them well. To hear of the news that he had missed, such as if more tunnels had been opened and whether any gold or silver had finally been found. But it was not his place to put such a burden upon his Clan. As much as he wanted to know, sentimentality such as that would do naught but bring dishonor upon all involved. So instead he only reported what had to be done. Because he no longer belonged to his Clan, he belonged to the Cult of Grungni. Therefore he was duty bound to let such information to be known.
Despite the length of time he'd spent on the river, Landolf found himself nervous about approaching Count Boorman directly like this. From all appearances, the count was as virtuous a nobleman as he was likely to find all across the Reik. He'd be a fool not to try to gain the man's support for his family.
*
With the Lucky Lady docked at Kemperbad, Landolf helped oversee the delivery of Count Boorman's luggage.
[dice=Knowledge Local 37]3d100
Kemperbad. This wasn't just any town. This was a city. And not just any city, it was a free city. A city which had been owned by Reikland, Talabechland and Stirland in different parts of its history, but which had bought it's independence. While not in such as ostentatious way as Marienburg did, it was enough to ensure that it's nobility was renowned for their fabulous wealth. Not that Valghaz knew any of this. If he did, then he would have insisted on trying their legendary brandy. And if he knew about the dangers that came from organized crime within the city, he would certainly have not gone off by himself. Sadly, he was as knowledgeable about the town as he was of Kislev. Which was to say, not at all.
So instead, he went off by himself, looking for the inevitable dwarven quarter. He figured, that failing that, he would just have to find a dwarven owned tavern. That was because he had letters to send. The first was to the Temple of Grungni in Altdorf. It was a short letter, explaining what had happened at the tower. He decided that it was important, given the unholy artifacts within it, for the Cult of know about it as soon as possible. If for nothing else than to ensure the safety of the workers for when the Templars of Sigmar came. The letter itself did not offer any such advice. Rather it was as dry as possible, laying out the facts in unbiased detail. He figured that it would be presumptuous for him to offer advice to those who were both gray and long of beard. It was his role to merely ensure that the proper information came back as quickly and accurately as possible.
The second letter though? That one required a different messenger. One who was heading to Karak Azgaraz. That letter was of far less import, but it had to be made nonetheless. It was to his Clan.
[dice=Charm to negotiate a good price for sending the two letters, using his status as a Templar to lower it 41]1d100...
Luckily for Valghaz the petty criminals in Kemperbad have no interest in attacking a well-armed dwarf even if he is by himself. Helpful citizens are able to point Valghaz in the direction of The Next Tankard tavern, which is owned by Grakac Hammerbeard who runs the tavern with the aid of his children, Braelic, Tolgreck and Skitha.
Unusually for most Old Worlde taverns, The Next Tankard seems to be equally popular with dwarfs and humans and halflings, all happily drinking and laughing. One end of the tavern is dominated by a stage which currently stands empty.
Valghaz is able to push his way through the cheerful crowd to the large bar. A very well fed middle aged dwarf greets him, "Welcome to the Next Tankard, the best tavern in Kemperbad or my name isn't Grakac Hammerbeard, which it is. What can I do for you?"
Grakak listens carefully to Valghaz and takes the letter for the Temple in Altdorf and tucks it into his apron. "Of course, no charge for sending this on its way to Altdorf, being Grungni business."
The tavernkeeper chews on his beard for a moment when Valghaz brings up the second a letter. "A post to Karak Azgaraz? Probably fastest to go by coach to Auerswald and then by boat to Ubersreik then by one of the traders into the mountains. There's a coach every week to Auerswald run by Four Seasons. So say a silver to get the coachman to take your letter and give it to a river warden, then another silver for the river warden to take the letter to Ubersreik and then another silver to pay a merchant to deliver it. So altogether that'll be 3 silver." He doesn't seem to be interested in haggling since he's just passing on his costs.
"Now then, we have a custom here in the Next Tankard. If a newcomer is willing to tell a tale on the stage, the tavern will stand him for a free beer. Any interest?"
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Despite the length of time he'd spent on the river, Landolf found himself nervous about approaching Count Boorman directly like this. From all appearances, the count was as virtuous a nobleman as he was likely to find all across the Reik. He'd be a fool not to try to gain the man's support for his family.
*
With the Lucky Lady docked at Kemperbad, Landolf helped oversee the delivery of Count Boorman's luggage.
Boorman sits on the deck and listens to Landolf. "It sounds like your family has faced a severe challenge with dignity. However, it strikes me that you will have to take some risks to earn the amount that your family needs to get out of debt. It seems that owning part of a barge will likely not generate the gold you need. Once you raise a stake, I would recommend making your way north to Marienburg. Despite the fact that they are all traitors to the Empire, it is a place that you can earn large sums. You could purchase a share in a trading company that sends one of their ships all around the world. I have been impressed by you and your compatriots and if you are interested I would provide you a letter of introduction to the East Cathay Trading Company. It is possible to earn 50 or even 100 times your investment."
Landolf accepts the letter of introduction gratefully with a bow, "Thank you Count Boorman. It is an honor to be favored by you. I don't believe that the rivers will carry us toward Marienburg soon, but I will do my best to put your recommendation to good use. May Sigmar bless your efforts in this city."
While enjoying a meal at the Next Tankard, Landolf begins asking around about cargo they can ship to Grissenwald.
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Valghaz slid across the three silver pieces, thanking Grakak for his assistance and piety. He then went over to the stage. His pack fell to the ground. He laid his trust mining pick across it and removed his helmet, placing it atop the pile. He sat on the stool, his mail armor clinking as he did so. Even though he hadn't said a word, he still made far too much sound.
He looked around the tavern, at the assembled umgi and dawi. He cleared his throat, and then spoke up. "Name's Valghaz, Clan Ironhammer. Nay the one in Karak Azul. From Karak Azgaraz. Up until recently was a miner by trade. Heard tell that there's a beer paid in exchange for a tale. Figure that I should oblige. Now, when it comes to tales, I see that there's two things that everyone likes to hear about. A grudge, and gold. So I've got a tale that involves both. A grudge on me end, and gold for any brave enough to earn it. For I speak of a great wrong done, and a bounty of no less than one hundred gold to any who could earn it." He looked around, letting the vast amount of gold sink in. Just thinking about the grudge made his blood boil, but he got control of himself.
"Before I took me oaths to the Cult of Grungni, I took on a job from the Cannonball Express. A man by the name of Andreas came to us. He offered me and my companions twenty gold crowns to find out why a number of coaches had gone missing. We saw nay reason to get paid up front, for the man wore the vestments of a priest of Verena." He said these words as if they were venom that he was spitting out. "Fools we were, for he was nay priest. But I will get to that. So we set out. Found the problem too. Gobbo wolf-riders. We killed the lot of them, we did. Nay easy task, I'll tell ye. Fookin' blighters are a crafty sort and their wolves are nearly as big as horses! Well, true to our word, we killed the gobbo scum and went for our reward. Andreas was waitin' for us at a coaching inn. Ordered a right big meal for us. We came, tell him about the gobbo problem and how it was solved. He became incensed with us. Said that the problem was some fooker named Hoch. Insisted that we change our tale to provide proof that the coaches went missing due to that man. Rightly confused us, it did. Told him that we had found the missing coaches. That all of the evidence there pointed to gobbos. That we followed the tracks, found the villains, and brought them to justice. He excused himself. Went out, never came back. Left us to foot the bill for the food he ordered to boot." He shook his head at the memory of it. "So we went to hunt him down. Couldn't track the man down, but we tracked down the next best thing. His boss. Man by the name of Andreas. He explained the situation. As it turned out, Andreas was nay a member of the Cannonball Express. He had played the role of a priest of Verena and was paid a hundred gold coins to find evidence of whether an employee by the name of Hoch had betrayed the company. So the man subcontracted it to us, and when we refused to lie for him, he absconded with the gold. So the Cannonball Express, they said this. They wouldn't pay us the gold that the scoundrel promised, as our contract was with him, but not they. But as we had done a service for the express, a lesser amount was paid in restitution. An honorable act, it was. However, they also have put a bounty on Andreas' head. A bounty of...One. Hundred. Gold." Valghaz sat back and looked over the crowd. "I was in the process of huntin' the man down meself. But, it's nay longer in me power to do so. Events...came up. Events that led me to swearin' meself to the Gods. I be oathbound to do the work of Grungni. So this grudge has been entered in me clan's Book of Grudges. Thing is, I care not who gets the gold. What I care about is that the grudge be settled by Andreas' head bein' separated from his body. So for me tale, I will end with this. A detailed description of what Andreas looks like, where he was last seen, the direction he was goin', and how to find Gershwin for the reward."
He sat back, looking over the crowd. "I'm sure that at least someone here is thinkin' to themself that they've got a sharp blade and the liar has a soft neck. All I ask is this. If any o' ye make a fortune for yerself, send a missive to Karak Azgaraz to Clan Ironhammer, aye? A missive sayin' that the deed was done so that it might be properly recorded, as well as the name of the hero that did it. Well." Valghaz stood up. "That be me tale. Me thanks for listenin."
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Landolf listened to Valghaz's speech, unsurprised at the tale his friend chose to tell. He didn't think he'd ever understand the dedication that Valghaz chose to show the slight, but there wasn't anything wrong with that either. They'd learned to live with their differences to some extent and that was enough.
That said, this was a creative way to post a bounty.
He waited for a time before taking the stage himself, not wanting to be the immediate aftermath of Valghaz's announcement.
"Greetings Kemperbad and travelers from whatever corner they hale from. My name is Landolf Gersun von Ubersreik, hailing from the same area. You may have seen me in the company of the good dwarf you met earlier tonight and your guess is likely correct: we've travelled together for some time now with those from our table."
"We call our group the Black Thorns, and the tale I'll tell you tonight is about how we met. I was newly departed from home then and was seeking a position with the navy, following in the footsteps of my uncle. Newly arrived from outside the city, I went through the Marketplatz toward the docks when of a sudden a commotion broke out amongst a group of performers. Never did see what got them arguing, but before I knew it the whole of the square was in a riot."
"Was the craziest thing I'd seen in my life. Young and elderly, both Herr and Frau: everyone was throwing punches and attacking the first person they could see. This woman screamed at me and came at me swinging. I managed to get out of the way the first time before she landed a solid kick right into my knee! Well, I wasn't raised to strike a lady and hadn't been in town for more than a few minutes so I made it clear to her that I wasn't going to fight her and calmed her down."
"Well, by this time there was pie from the Marketplatz all over the ground, and the footing was hard to stand on. Just when I'd gotten the Frau to stop swinging at me, the Strong Woman from the carnival over the way picked up two pigs and threw them into crowd. The poor porkers slid and squealed as they careened across the ground. One came straight into me and knocked my feet out from under me into the street muck."
"You might guess that pie isn't as appetizing when it's been coating the ground during a riot. You'd be right."
"I told you earlier that this was a story about how I met my friends, and this is where they come into it. Just above the shouting of the riot we heard a panicked scream. Someone was in trouble. I looked about but couldn't find who was in such distress, but the man that's now the captain of our ship pointed it out. A trio of ruffians was using the confusion of the riot to accost a young woman and her attendant with knives in hand."
"Well, I wasn't about to just stand by and watch someone be murdered so I rushed up to help. Before I can even get there, I see my dwarven friend Valghaz swing his shovel at the man. But he doesn't mash him in the face--no, he takes the cretin's arm right off." Landolf emphasizes the statement by making a chopping motion at his own arm.
"He's handy to have around in a fight, that one."
"Seeing that, the ruffians took off like a shot before I could score any of them with the knife I had on me. But those that would later call themselves Black Thorns drove off the men in time: the young lass hadn't yet been harmed."
"The riot ended then as riots do. The town guardsmen showed up and arrested the whole lot of us. The judge saw fit to have us serve for a time with the town guard for rioting and that's where I met Valghaz, our captain and the lady Adelaida," Landolf said while pointing out those in the Thorns. "...among others that aren't with us tonight."
"So if you hear someone wondering where the Black Thorns got started, you can rightly tell them that it had something to do with pigs and pie. Thank you for listening."
Valghaz slid across the three silver pieces, thanking Grakak for his assistance and piety. He then went over to the stage. His pack fell to the ground. He laid his trust mining pick across it and removed his helmet, placing it atop the pile. He sat on the stool, his mail armor clinking as he did so. Even though he hadn't said a word, he still made far too much sound.
[dice=Charm 40]1d100
[dice=Fortune Reroll 40]1d100He looked around the tavern, at the assembled umgi and dawi. He cleared his throat, and then spoke up. "Name's Valghaz, Clan Ironhammer. Nay the one in Karak Azul. From Karak Azgaraz. Up until recently was a miner by trade. Heard tell that there's a beer paid in exchange for a tale. Figure that I should oblige. Now, when it comes to tales, I see that there's two things that everyone likes to hear about. A grudge, and gold. So I've got a tale that involves both. A grudge on me end, and gold for any brave enough to earn it. For I speak of a great wrong done, and a bounty of no less than one hundred gold to any who could earn it." He looked around, letting the vast amount of gold sink in. Just thinking about the grudge made his blood boil, but he got control of himself.
"Before I took me oaths to the Cult of Grungni, I took on a job from the Cannonball Express. A man by the name of Andreas came to us. He offered me and my companions twenty gold crowns to find out why a number of coaches had gone missing. We saw nay reason to get paid up front, for the man wore the vestments of a priest of Verena." He said these words as if they were venom that he was spitting out. "Fools we were, for he was nay priest. But I will get to that. So we set out. Found the problem too. Gobbo wolf-riders. We killed the lot of them, we did. Nay easy task, I'll tell ye. Fookin' blighters are a crafty sort and their wolves are nearly as big as horses! Well, true to our word, we killed the gobbo scum and went for our reward. Andreas was waitin' for us at a coaching inn. Ordered a...
The good natured crowd gives Valghaz a nice round of applause when he finishes his tale and a group of Halflings invited him to come join them for dinner and drinks, all paid for by generous Halflings.
As you eat and drink, the talk turns to the odd ‘there are no mutants’ edict from the Emperor. Several theories are advanced trying to explain why the edict was issued. The oldest of the Halflings lowers his voice and whispers, ” The Emperor's mutant edict is suspicious. Why does he love mutants all of a sudden? Makes one think that someone close to him might have developed a mutation, doesn’t it? Mark my words, this is going to result in the greatest scandal of our lives,” the Halfling says with relish as there’s nothing (except food, wine and sleeping) that a halfling enjoys more than a scandal.
Landolf listened to Valghaz's speech, unsurprised at the tale his friend chose to tell. He didn't think he'd ever understand the dedication that Valghaz chose to show the slight, but there wasn't anything wrong with that either. They'd learned to live with their differences to some extent and that was enough.
That said, this was a creative way to post a bounty.
He waited for a time before taking the stage himself, not wanting to be the immediate aftermath of Valghaz's announcement.
"Greetings Kemperbad and travelers from whatever corner they hale from. My name is Landolf Gersun von Ubersreik, hailing from the same area. You may have seen me in the company of the good dwarf you met earlier tonight and your guess is likely correct: we've travelled together for some time now with those from our table."
"We call our group the Black Thorns, and the tale I'll tell you tonight is about how we met. I was newly departed from home then and was seeking a position with the navy, following in the footsteps of my uncle. Newly arrived from outside the city, I went through the Marketplatz toward the docks when of a sudden a commotion broke out amongst a group of performers. Never did see what got them arguing, but before I knew it the whole of the square was in a riot."
"Was the craziest thing I'd seen in my life. Young and elderly, both Herr and Frau: everyone was throwing punches and attacking the first person they could see. This woman screamed at me and came at me swinging. I managed to get out of the way the first time before she landed a solid kick right into my knee! Well, I wasn't raised to strike a lady and hadn't been in town for more than a few minutes so I made it clear to her that I wasn't going to fight her and calmed her down."
"Well, by this time there was pie from the Marketplatz all over the ground, and the footing was hard to stand on. Just when I'd gotten the Frau to stop swinging at me, the Strong Woman from the carnival over the way picked up two pigs...
The crowd cheers at the high points of Landolf’s story and groan at the lows, like getting knocked down with a pig. When finished, Landolf is warmly applauded and a group of merchants invite him to join them. They introduce themselves as Lanfrank Tisch of Nuln, Neidhard Metternich of Averheim, Albert Boettcher of Middenheim and finally, Ivo Scheller of Kemperbad itself. Lanfrank has most recently arrived in town, coming in that morning. He shares a story about a little town called Grissenwald which is a couple of days further up the river. ” Some down and out dwarfs over in Grissenwald have been causing trouble for half the town! You wouldn't catch any Kemperbad dwarfs acting like that — they don't get involved in the affairs of humans.”
Krista doesn't want any alcohol, but when people seem to expect her to go up anyway, she gets up to tell her story.
Once upon a time there was a kingdom of surpassing beauty and peace. Everyone was happy, and no one was poor or starving. They took care of each other.
Whenever any other kingdom threatened them, they made friends with them and shared the secrets of their successful society. If someone attacked them instead, then with the help of the gods a hero would be raised up, draw together those willing to defend their beloved kingdom, and the bad guys would be driven away, never to return.
This continued for generations, everyone living happily, until the pretender came. Instead of attacking the kingdom, instead he became false friends with them, mixing his people into their society and sowing discontent and the virtues of idleness. When finally the kingdom realized what was happening, they again raised up a hero, but the hero could not prevail because people were confused and discontent. They liked the idea of having more than someone else, even if it meant that someone else had to have less.
And thus the gods decreed that they would no longer protect a people who had no will to protect themselves, unless the people repented in pain and blood as proof that they once again desired their assistance.
And thus we revere the flagellants, symbols of our own sin, and a living plea to the gods that we revere them and desire their help.
The crowd is silent for a long moment when Krizta finishes her story. Then there is a desultory round of applause and a call of ”well said,” from one of the patrons. The normal hubbub gradually resumes.
”Miss, come join us,” a hard looking man calls to Krizta as he tells his companion to make room at the table. When Krizta sits at the table she can see both men sport the symbols of the Bounty-Hunter’s guild. ”Pleased to meet you, I am Willibert Mencken, but most call me Bert and my quiet associate is Ingbert Lachs who most call Ing.” Bert proceeds to spin a few fanciful stories about the adventures of Bert and Ing. As the evening draws to a close Bert shares one last tidbit. ”Keep an eye out as you travel up the Reik. Mutant corpses have been found drifting down the Reik just south of Kemperbad the last few months. Only the other week Ing and I saw one pulled out of the river with bright green fur, and four eyes on stalks.”
Krizta smiles and introduces herself to Bert and Ing, sitting with them and finding their company enjoyable.
When Bert warns her about the mutant corpses she adds
Wow, that's horrible. What should be done if we see something like that? Surely someone needs to be cleaning that sort of defilement up... do we report it to someone?
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Krizta smiles and introduces herself to Bert and Ing, sitting with them and finding their company enjoyable.
When Bert warns her about the mutant corpses she adds
Wow, that's horrible. What should be done if we see something like that? Surely someone needs to be cleaning that sort of defilement up... do we report it to someone?
”Well luv, that’s the problem ain’t it? According to the Emperor they ain’t no such thing as mutants. Reporting dead ‘uns means breaking the law. So, keep this story under your hat, so to speak, and remember mums the word when it comes to the M’s,” Ing says sotto voice. ”Just mind how you go out there.”
Valghaz sat at his table, frowning at the news. "It's odd, I'll say that. Mayhaps it has somethin' to do with the Cult of Sigmar, aye? They've always been right zealous in burnin' mutants. Could be a plot that they seek to foil and this is part of it. Well, I hope..." he trailed off. The humans always pretended that the skaven didn't exist. To deny the existence of skaven always struck him as counter productive, but he had to believe that they still fought against the menace. To actually ignore it was madness of the highest order. And humans couldn't be so foolish that they would ignore such a huge threat, could they?