FORTUNE FAVORS THOSE WHO USE FORTUNE POINTS!!!
vs 40 ohh.....maybe not...
vs 30!
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vs 40 Failure vs 30 Double Failure The shockwave rumbles through tower's floor into the tunnels. Those thrice damned Imperials! They hit the tower! Had his signal not been clear?! Albrecht's patience was waning with these men, they did everything in their power to shoot themselves in the blasted foot. He fumed for a moment, a burning in his chest being fed by the stones soft thrum.
Albrecht follows his... well he doesn't know what to call Lutke just yet. His once comrade? Surely. His ally? Possibly. Friend? Albrecht never had many of those. What was for certain was their Fates had been twined together for awhile now, and it seemed unlikely that they would spiral apart anytime soon. He sticks with him. "Lutke, let's get down in those tunnels."
Albrecht looks outside the tower, checking the paths and streets. Trouble will be here any second. He tries to recall where exactly they need to be heading. "Get on your damned feet! We need to move, NOW! We stay here and we'll be waiting for the Kurgan or the blasted idiots behind the shells." He pokes his head outside once more, points our into the sky at and shoots a flare out of his hand at angle so as to allow it to drop elsewhere into the city. He prays the Imperials will take it as a sign of where to fire. Anywhere but on them.
Albrecht gets to his feet patting his hair down from the explosion. "Lutke, get up!" he nudges at him with his boot. "I agree we need to get out of here fast!" Albrecht ignores the phantom, swirling around him.
Albrecht was lost in thought, attempting to plot his own course out of this death trap. Njord's headless body falling down into the pit, the gases sifting about their feet. This is not how he wanted to go. He hears Lutke call out, suggesting a magical solution. "This is gas! It is not a smoke...but truly I'd rather struggle against this than let death take me easily!" he shuts up thinking he shouldn't talk so much. Thinking.... heating the air in here would roast them like an oven... No that won't work! What can he do!?! It was the best option. A quick burst of hot air might be enough to give them some breathing room. ugh, a pun. He hated himself sometimes. In the confusion, Albrecht had no idea where the gas had come from, looking about he sees it now. A cannister! Those DAMNED DWARVES!
vs BS (Its sorta like throwing, but like soccer right?)
"I'll do it." Albrecht volunteers. He doesn't know why he should be the one to do so, but he does. Perception
Albrecht knows what he'd like to find behind that door. An open field, green with healthy grass and beautiful flowers. Sigmar Himself sitting with Ghal Maraz enjoying a pint with it's dwarven creators. Shallya dancing and telling them everything would be all right. It wasn't likely.
the book seemed to be filling Albrecht's mind more and more. His thoughts turning to the knowledge waiting for him in this most ancient of tomes. He just wishes for this war to be done with so that he might retire from it for a spell, and study further. If he can live through the day, he may get that chance. The door is up ahead. they've killed all the light, but he sees through the Aethyr... The door is bathed in turquoise and purple, shimmering violue, a color not possible in any realm, but still it existed. Tzeentch's Wind. Such is the nature of his power. Making impossibilities trivialities. This door, behind it is the change. Whether the men know it or not, past this threshold what they know will be changed in some way. Albrecht suspects only the very lucky will live to see such change.
As Albrecht walks amongst the dead and moves their bodies to sit against the tunnel walls he feels the first vibration. Deep, as if coming from his own bones it shakes his leg outwards. he book. He puts it out of his mind. He will study it later, that is assured. A tome of Nagash! How he could not believe his luck! It was a lore of necromancy, something the powers that be seem to be letting loose rampant on the world once more. If the enemy has it, then the Empire would need it as well, whether they knew it or not. Albrecht is powerful, he knows he has the potential for greatness. But maybe, maybe its not in the Bright Order. Necromancy is a Dark Lore, but it is not Chaos. He would not cross that line no matter the cost, he assured himself. Those ruinous beings have plenty on their side, Sigmar and the Empire needed him. Even if he had to support them in...less than holy ways. Albrecht moves the bodies and in a flash he knows how to keep them from rising, the book seems to be feeding into his mind directly in quick bursts of enlightenment. He seals his thumbprint against the throats of the deceased he knows it will mark them, keeping any other possible necromancers at bay, binding them to his use. Not that he would raise these souls again. He dared not. But preventing them from coming back under someone else's control He finishes his work and begins to shift his gear, ready to continue the trek into the very maw of the enemy when it strikes him. vs WP vs Perception! The stone, it seems to be reacting to something in the area. Albrecht makes note and quickly glances about, looking for perhaps a vein of the stone in the walls, perhaps the bog octupus is imbued with it? Aimes is shifting his gear tucking something away Albrecht's eyes quiver as they pass him by, the dwarves are filling their mouths with good drink and Lackey is partaking, He sees Lutke fiddling with something in the water... No! Lutke cannot handle the substance! He mustn't! It will corrupt him surely! Mere men cannot posses it! Lutke/GM Drachenfels: Albrecht approaches you, sloshing through the water. He begins to whisper:"Lutke... What do you have there? I will not bring it to the attention of the rest of the men, for I know you to be a good man at heart, just be rid of it! If it is what I believe it to be... You must be rid of it! I know even now it clings in your hands, wrapping them gently in some sort of childish embrace of devotion, but it is not! It is dangerous and to the untrained mind can scorch the very soul out of you! You may think I am being melodramatic but believe me when I say I know the effect of such a thing! It will wrap its suctioned tendrils into your very skull and pull forth your will, twisting it to its own ends!"
Albrecht seems to think bog octupi are the very entity of Chaos' nightmares! He is surely confused, it is but a beast!
"Aye, thank you Herr Roteshemd. Let's leave these bodies to the side here. Once this is all said and done we should come back for them, it would not do to leave soldiers of the Empire dead in these waters. They fought bravely for us." Albrecht goes from body to body, sprinkling a bit of ash and charcoal into the ragged necks of the corpses. Pressing his thumb to the sides he says a quick incantation and burns his print into their flesh. It is a small barrier, but perhaps it'll be enough. "Herr Biedelmann, when you are ready?"
Albrecht thinks for a moment. "Well, sir, I can't guarantee it won't weaken the structure any more. I think if we bury them and their heads separate we may get by. I would just hate to risk losing our exit strategy."
Albrecht clears the muck from his eyes, as the shockwave rumbles through the tunnel. "Good work Master Dwarves! I wouldn't have thought to be quite so reckless. And what was THAT!? Was like a spell contained in a tube! Haha thanks Sigmar the winds were good!" He wipes his short blade clean on the fringes of his cloak and sheaths it. "Perhaps we should get to moving. Incase of any structural damage, or warning the enemy may have received."
vs Agi 35 Spending all his time amongst books Albrecht has never truly had a reason to be fast. Everything in its own time and all that. Unfortunately for him, the time for action is now, and the Bog Octupi is not taking it slowly. He recoils at the stink as the blast covers him nose to toe. He wonders briefly if this substance is flammable as he hacks wildly. vs 40 2 Successes! vs 30 Defense...who needs it! Octupi! vs 45 vs 55 The Octupi succeeds again in combat against the Blazing Mage who refuses to "Flame On!" Save vs 42 He refuses to drop!
Saving throw! vs 42
Albrecht is not filled with fear. This is a beast, Men kill beats all the time, such is the world. This is no daemon of any old god...Or...Is it? It is rather large, I mean, could it be the underwaterprotectorofsomesortofhellgateandanentombedwatergodbeneathWolfenbu rgwhosepowersalonecouldriptheworldinhalfiftheydistrubitmaybetheyreallyshoul dleaveitaloneandrunIhaveabad-- "Stand ranks! Focus your lanterns to locate the enemy! The lantern's fire glows the length of Albrecht arm, permeating his heart and mind. Focus. He has focus now. Whipping the sword from its sheath at his hip, Albrecht strikes the blade down onto the nearest part of the monsters writhing mass! Atk vs 40 1 Success
Octaipus:
Albrecht grabs the short sword at his waist, recoiling from the explosion of movement. vs 50 He is dumbfounded by the creature and is waiting his turn to recover.
In their current state Albrecht felt mighty useless. He was drained from spending the previous evening making the ritual but more than that was their surroundings. Crossing under a wooden bridge. It would. It do to spark any timbers...or would it? Would it helphakt the incursion? Albrecht ponders to himself, hesitant to speak lest he be responsible for ruining their stealth, what little there was. No, he would keep his fire inward and hope that by the time they find any resistance that they'll be in a more... Conducive environment.
Previously... Albrecht had been caught by surprise. To find Nicodemus yet lived was both a blessing and a curse. Surely he was not an agent of Tzeentch! No his visions were false and it had been the inhaling off too much troll horn whilst working on the circle. But no, Albrecht could not shake such a feeling. Nicodemus is an agent of change, whether Nicodemus knew it
That night, Albrecht waited til Nicodemus had passed into sleep and he crept upwards to the top of the tower. Stopping just below the hatch to the roof he set to work in the darkness guide by a single candle. He began inscribing another circle onto the ceiling. This one, however was a spell familiar to him. Laying in the necessary components and reagents, some hanging from glass bottles and jars, Albrecht put all the powe he could muster into this inert magick, waiting to be tapped. To be positive Albrecht laid down copper wire, a great conductor, even for magick, from the roof to his own circle, winding from the inner glyphs down theough the hatche into the makings of the secret circle.Nicodemus would surely not see it on his possible ascent. The power being held in check on the roof would overglow this modest, hasty work. Should Nicodemus go to the roof and call upon the Winds this second circle would be activated as well. Something Albrecht couldnt hope to
Albrecht retreated downward into the spare room he had been given, hoping to leave no trace of doubt in Nicodemus's dark mind of his purpose. One more night in the mouth of madness, then he should be free. Albrecht took several tomes off the walls of his Chaotic overseer, hoping to save any rarities or potentially useful books from the damage that the tower may suffer. Specifically, Albrecht is looking for any possible tomes of the other 7 Winds he does not currently know. The rest of this man's mad research can burn with him. The next day, as Albrecht joined the Grey Wolves in the journey under the bridge he looked upward at his last glance on the tower, sitting high, a powder keg waiting for its spark.
“Aye, I am Albrecht Baer, Apprentice of the Bright Order. I am here to serve.” A blind Farseer, how… archetypical Albrecht thinks to himself. With brief introductions Albrecht and Nicodemus set to their tasks. Based in the Farseer’s home tower, the two begin their preparations. Strange how wizardly folks always seem to favor oddities in their architecture, Albrecht notes as they pass into the archway, guarded by twin bird faced gargoyles. In magic, it is indeed 90% preparation, and 10% action. Spells are often long, complicated dealings and only the most basic and instinctual of castings are seen on a battlefield. A man can direct a blast, a faint illusion or cause a small explosion; anything more requires time and ingredients. For the expected siege, they would need stronger magicks then that. The first night Albrecht was ready to turn in rather early; it had been awhile since the group had enjoyed the comforts of any sort. The bed, lumpy, smelled faintly of urine, but it was a bed. As his eyes closed for some much needed rest he was shaken awake by a violent quake.
“Ah, young Albrecht! I thought you had gone to bed.” Nicodemus sat at the table studying the orb with his fingertips. “I was attempting yes, I felt a jolt. Must have been my nerves or something…I see you’ve found the stone.” “Yes, it was good of you to bring it here. It is not something we would want to fall into the wrong hands. This is not something we want them to have.” So it was, over the next several days that Albrecht spent most of his time in the tower, preparing ingredients, casting circles, and other protective barriers. They would discuss their thoughts on the Winds, the Colleges, the Empire, all the topics one might expect two men to speak of. Nicodemus had him working on an arcane circle atop the tower, from which the Farseer would throw out his powers across all of Wolfenburg, fending off the coming hordes from any possible angle. It was during the construction of said circle that Albrecht discovered who this Nicodemus really was. Whilst etching symbols into the stones with the horn of some exotic beast Albrecht made a note of what he was copying. Looking at the parchment it was filled with unfamiliar symbols. It was not that that gave him pause, as Nicodemus was not one of the Bright Order, but rather the ragged, sharp font of them. It took Albrecht aback. A flash of memory. The vestibule of change is strong indeed! He stood, knees aching from long hours of work and turned to head into the tower, to speak with Nicodemus about exactly what it was he had Albrecht doing. Again, a flash. Walking towards the entrance Nicodemus steps out from the hatch. “I have a feeling I know what you’re to ask me.” A smile spread across his face.
“Be out with it. You know what I plan to do. I suspect you always knew, and were following along anyways. I mean to help the Kurgen wipe out Wolfenburg. These people are fools, they have no idea what it is to know the truth. We know such things Herr Baer, we know! They will fight and fight and fight but CHAOS will take it’s due, always. It is inevitability.” “They, WE, are the Empire, we fight as we must. If we give up then Man ends. I will not see such a thing happen.” Albrecht could feel the electricity in the air, vibrating with power as Nicodemus brought it into himself. “Must we?” Holding out the stone, “take it, help me bring ruin to this city. We will be rewarded by the higher powers!” Not listening to any of this treasonous talk any longer Albrecht throws himself forward. Charging into Nicodemus and stomping him with force. he was a more than powerful wizard, Albrecht could sense, but he may yet prove to be a feeble old man. Bounding across the tower top, Albrecht is mere inches away from Nicodemus before an invisible force knocks him to the side. He recovers quickly and again attempts to get his hands on the old man, surely a Tzeentchian spy! He feels magical energies trying to restrain him, his body sends out jolts of flame as Albrecht burns through them like spider webs. At last, his hands wrapped around Nicodemus' throat. Reaching down Albrecht finds the horn he had been grinding and plunges it into the evil wizard's throat, blow after blow as the man's blood coated his hands, arm and face in the warm life force. Flash Albrecht comes to awareness. He is standing on the tower top. His arms and face warm from the blood, but the body of Nicodemus is not in sight. The circle is completed, finished in blood and horn. He feels the low thrum of the stone clenched in his fist. The preparations are done. It is time he be reporting back to the Captain. Albrecht approaches the camp, and who should he see reporting to the Nulner than the shape of Nicodemus, his blind eyes looking up towards him. A smile spreads across his face.
Sharing an entirely too unsettling moment with Lutke Albrecht speaks. "Let's get him in the tunnel. We should not be out here much longer."
"Lutke, you're not much of a healer, I'd recommend you get the proper tools if you wish to keep trying." Albrecht looks at Njords wounds. "It's best we bring him inside too. I doubt there is much we can do for him." Albrecht helps Lutke pull him inside as well. Albrecht only hopes the foul magic out in the Wind doesn't wake Njord too.
Descriptive Challenge (Albrecht): Albrecht stretches his palm outward, a fire in his heart. He calls out into the Wind and Power of Aqshy to come to his aid, bend to his will and smite these undead foes! His life depends upon! It is not Aqshy that answers. A vibration, low and hard shakes Albrecht from his side. The stone. Time begins to slow. The red glow of the battle dissipates into muted greys and the purple of Shyish all around them. The Amethyst Magick is about the field, as the men face down their deaths waiting. Lutke is a hollowed out form, a shadow. Caspar is bathed in purple, his hair a bright violet. Behind them all an emptiness. A void. Albrecht stares into the Void. It...something... stares back. It apperates out of the stone, Albrecht feels it. The gust of smoke whooshing out from his pouch and taking shape. The Hag. The Kurgan Witch. Her form speaks to him. "Alll-breeeeecht....remember the sssstooone. It issss your desssstiny...." Albrecht remembers. The Hag has conquered Death itself. The stone gave her some means to do so! Surely! Is the answer there?! This moment has stretched into an infinite and as his mind begins to make the choice Albre---
Something akin to a bomb has gone off in Albrecht mind. A dull warm sensation flows downward onto his neck. Lifting his right hand he touches his ear. Blood. Warm and slick. The vision fades. The pools of purple vanishing instantly, all of the colors come filtering back in an instant and the World speeds as if it means to catch up. Albrecht is in a daze. He has been tempted, and perhaps fatefully, been interrupted.
The tides look grim, but Albrecht is resolved. He and his crew are at the footsteps of Wolfenburg and he'll be damned if he fails his first and possibly last command. "Fight them! Fight this scourge to our last breath! We die here, we die defending the Empire!" vs Command! (attempting to bolster our forces resolve!) ....not so much! Casting Fires of Uzhul!... The fire dies from Albrechts palm... He isn't quite as heroic as he thought for a moment. *gulp*
Albrecht seeing Caspar run out into combat is both dumbfounded and inspired. Caspar! HE charged! He truly is the bravest of men! He hides not behind big muscles and large sword like the Njord. He is what he is and yet he still charges into the waiting claws of the undead. Albrecht would be DAMNED if he let him fall. vs 50 WP ...Well, those undead are really scary. But still he will move on! Following behind Caspar he sees him fall and the undead begin to rise their weapons. Albrecht shoots his left hand up, touching a match his forehead, muttering incantations. He throws his right arm outward in an arc, bolt of flame fanning out towards the putrid flesh of the dead!
Flaaaames of U'zuuuul! Send you BACK to the GRAVE!
Defender vs 31 Undead Save vs 45 - 20 (Right? Because of the successes?) The bolts of flame catch the undead rising, ignites the scraps of flesh and decaying skin and send the innards exploding out the other side!
"Rrrrruuuuuuuuunnnnn!"
"Master Lutke, when can we do to help. I agree we must hurry, but we cannot leave this unguarded. What would you have me do?" "...Wait... Why did he make that noise?" Albrecht asks pointing at Largyn
"Yes Lutke, I know there is no way to discriminate, but unfortunately we do not have that luxury. Any who pass through will be a necessary loss for the greater good." Albrecht watches on as things come together.
"Good. Now that that's settled. Lutke you think all of these are possibilities? Perhaps you can set a trap so that it will collapse whenever the Kurgen inevitably attempt to use it? We'll get through safe, kill some Kurgen while we're at it? Dwarves what do you think? Caspar! You fought bravely, truly you have the makings of a great warrior!"
vs Int of 35 Failure Looking slightly confused as Lutke draws in the snow... Is that.. A turd? Albrecht begins speaking to the group. "Right, well, now that's settled, we have no more use for these Kurgen and to be quite frank taking them into Wolfenburg would only be dangerous to ourselves and the populace. Njord, if you would..." Albrecht gestures towards the Kurgen. "Lutke, can we get in? Is there no other way. Perhaps we force it open and you can collapse it behind us?"
As Caspar charges in Albrecht is thinking similar thoughts. Those damn dwarves! And.... What happened to the shamans head?! Aiming at the woundedr he begins to quickly throw out bolts of living flame! vs 50
vs 35
3 successes against 1 the fight goes to Albrecht!
"Caspar, that's not a bad idea... Though Lutke does complain about materials. Perhaps a simple ambush? Or a pit with stakes? I'm sure the dwarves can work fast enough." Thoughts race through Albrecht's mind as he plots the course of events. "Wait, these are scouts it is very unlikely they'll fall into such simple traps. Perhaps we should attempt to get the jump on them and hope for the best...
Yes. We attack. Their shaman is no doubt drained from his spellcraft. He is a larger threat than we'd believe. Unless you think you can come up with something adequate Lutke?"
Igniting his palm, Albrecht walks forward.
Albrecht sees the 'Camp Follower' perform more miracles than Sigmar himself takes responsibility for. He does not like it... Not one bit... For now he will ignore it as she is on their side.
Before Albrecht can even act the work is done.
Once Lutke has been brought to his senses. "Herr Geshburger, do you have shackles for the Kurgen? I think it best if we are to interrogate him that he be heavily bound and perhaps on the brink of death. Krak, Boom, yes we should sneak in. If the Kurgen have scouts no doubt they'll be watching us take their comrade captive. Let's question him quickly and toss the body. We don't need them following us through the tunnels."
"The halfling didn't make it then? Too bad. The more we had to help the better. We're marching on to Wolfenburg! These woods will be dangerous if these Kurgen were any indication. But we must press on and let the city know what's happening to their riders." At the dying mans gasps, Albrecht looks over... He's not so sure whether Gretta is what she appears, even more so after that blasphemous display of 'healing.' "Yes... I suppose we can burn the body. He died bravely, despite where his wounds finally took him." "Krak, Boom, I see the wagon is not of any use now. Disperse the equipment as equally as we can handle. Everyone must pull their weight unfortunately. Let's eat what we can and make for Wolfenburg at once!"
"Ah Boom! Sorry, I didn't see you there. You look how I feel!" "Trolls you say! Working with the Kurgen? You're sure of it?" Albrecht opens the scroll case to read over its contents. "How long are you out? Further, how far are we from Kislev? I'm not sure we could make it in time." Albrecht attempts to use his astounding intelligence to find their distance from Kislev and a reasonable estimate of time for the journey. vs 32 (Int) Albrecht... Well, he was never very intelligent. That is to say he is a Bright Wizard, but not so much a bright one. His skill with the arcane is more out of an astounding Will, one that can bend the world as he wishes. But the books... They were so long... and dreadfully boring at times. Perhaps that is why in the end he settled with the Bright Order. Fire is a more instinctive type of magick.
Albrecht seeing Krak jerk his thumb notices the man for the first time. "You, were you the rider? Nevermind that, what news from Wolfenburg? What's happening? Can anyone stop this man's bleeding!" Albrecht knows the act would be futile. He's seen enough wounds like it. These Kurgen are a damned blight and the Empire has little chance it would seem. "Krak.. Where's Boom?"
"I too am in admiration of your... frying pan. " Albrecht remembers the vibe he got from Gretta back in the first assaults. He wonders if it was indeed a frying pan or actually magic that saved them. "Krak, Boom, you did well bringing us here. But where is here exactly?"
"ughhhhh....." Albrecht rolls onto his side. "How is it possible? Njord I take it you saved us? Last I remember was a Kurgen driving my face into the dirt." Albrechts blows his nose hard and shoots a wad of mud from his left nostril. "I'm rather amazed we made it to tell the truth. And that was only six of them!?"
vs 30 Failure Albrecht's world does in fact go quite black.
Albrecht is on the defensive. The Kurgen raining blows down upon Albrecht as he sways left then right attempting to dodge thee massive fist and get to his feet. vs 30... SO MUCH FAILURE! Albrecht takes the hits brutally into his face. There is nothing to keep Albrecht up. Once again, Albrecht's world goes black.
vs 30 two successes! Albrecht reels backwards as the Kurgen's fist smashes into his face. He draws his dagger and slashes back at the mutant man. vs 40 no success!
Albrecht Baer is alive with flame. Seeing the Kurgen mutate and turn on him he allows no fear in his heart. In its place is only fire. "Fires of U'zuuul!" Failure! As the flames fail to conjure Albrecht has a moment to think to himself... This may hurt.
Albrecht, dismayed at the performance of his quick-cast shoots his right hand into his pouch and digs around for a moment. His eyes alight as he finds what he is looking for. Placing his right arm directly outward towards the Kurgen looming over Njord. He opens his palm and reveals.... A match, the reagent necessary for Fires of U'zuu!
The air gusts out of his sleeve and the match catches alight shooting a gout of death into the kurgen's back! damage!
Albrecht has come to his senses, finally. Looking around he spots Njord on the defense fighting off two Kurgen. Placing his left palm to his forehead and stretching out his right he speaks quick works of power!
The flame wraps itself about his wrist and meekly sputters to the ground. Perhaps Albrecht brain is more rattled than he had expected!
vs 55 Success! Albrecht rolls onto his back thoroughly confused. He remembers...Snow... Cold... That's something he doesn't feel often. He begins to sit and the world shakes, his head spins. A smear of blood running down his face from the gash along the side of his head. A rock, he must have hit a rock. Ears ringing he has yet to come to his senses as he stands and sees the battle blooming around him. Albrecht shakes his head clear and a just sub audible pop is felt more than heard as if a hot gust of air knocked the cobwebs loose from his brain.
vs 50 for WP Failure! /2 1 wound! Safe! But still on the ground Albrecht is face down deep into the muddy path.
vs 45 (35+10) Albrecht is too involved in the charging of possible spellcraft to adequately move from the path. vs 30 Albrecht is not lucky at all.
"Unlikely it is Kurgen, they rarely use horses I believe. Caspar! A lone rider!? They may have news. Be ready men, should this go sour." Albrecht will stand in the middle of the path and begin to mutter. A few arcane words and sparks crackle through the air. Albrecht seems to be readying his body to be the conduit necessary should this rider cause problems.
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