Cheap tickets - after action report

[Cheap tickets - after action report]

 Dead to rights (13)

 

 

 The room was made of bones. Completely made of bones. The walls were femurs, arranged lengthways up the wall, and across the arching ceiling, framing barred windows high in the roof. The corners contained clusters of grinning skulls, whilst the floor was an intricate spiral pattern of finger-bones swirling into the corners of the room. There was even an outrageous chandelier of stepped arm bones radiating from interlinked vertebral columns dominating the centre of the room, with what looked like toe bones suspended on wire cascading from it.

 

 “Love the decor,” muttered the heavily tattooed dwarf, leaning his back against an iron-bound door. There were muffled thumps from outside.

 

 “Stuff the decorations,” replied the woman, rapier in hand, prowling around the room looking for an exit. “Love the door more like. At least it means the bastards are outside.”

 

 There was a strange whispering sound from across the room, and a clatter. They looked around, just in time to see a pile of bones fall from the ceiling. There was a moments silence, then the bones slowly rose, knitting themselves together to form a grinning skeleton. 

 

 

 

 

The characters

 

Petra Nunce, Reiklander - ex-gambler, thief

Wesley Smitt, Reiklander - scout

Grim Grimmson, Dwarf - trollslayer

Jeremy Dewbender - apprentice grey wizard

Cat - a cat 

 

 The next day starts badly for the players. Their rest was disturbed by strange dreams about undead heroes, gravestones and rotting women, and they drag themselves out of bed, still weary from the events of the previous night. Before they’ve even started to break their fast, a messenger from Captain Kessler arrives, requesting their immediate attendance at the offices of the Burgomeister, Philip Adler. With much swearing and complaints, they drag themselves across the town, munching bread they’d snatched from the kitchen of the Thunderwater Inn. Arriving at Herr Adlers’s offices they meet the Captain, who seems pleased they are on time. 

 

 As they enter, magister Schulman is leaving, speaking over his shoulder “ ... much too busy. Try the heroes of Stromdorf.” He turns and sees the characters and gestures towards them. “And here they are! Good day gentlemen.”

 

 A flunky ushers them in, and they meet Herr Adler, a pale wasted man with haunted eyes. It seems he is haunted by dreams of Madriga Brenner, a young woman who committed suicide by throwing herself into the town well. (“Not the water they make the beer out of?” whispers Wesley in horror. He is quickly hushed by Petra after a quelling glance from Kessler). As the  mayor continues his description, the details of the woman strike a chord with Jeremy, and he notes similarities with his own dreams. 

 

 “Why’s he so interested in the girl?” wonders Petra quietly to Grim.

 

 The dwarf is leaning against the wall, obviously in pain from the fight the night before. “Easy, he was porking her. That’s all you humies do, talk, pork and squawk about what you haven’t got.”

 

 (And there we go, plot-line advanced in less than thirty seconds. Yay for the stumpy one).

 

 To cut a long story short, the mayor wants the party to go and fetch the local priest of Morr from the temple outside town to interpret his dreams, post-haste. He pays them 80 shillings (in advance! To the trouser bandits! He is truly insane), and ushers them on their way with a nod to captain Kessler. Petra assures the Captain that they will be setting off immediately, and promptly leads the party into the shops in the centre of town. (Petra is still in charge of the groups money, managing to persuade them that all their money was lost in the robbery of the previous night, and not gambled away by her).  They stock up on essentials - candles, a tinderbox, a rope, then Petra graciously buys Wes a new sword (with the parties money), and purchases another dagger for herself, before taking Grim to the local physician, who for the lordly sum of 40 silvers, restitches his wounds (no improvement) and administers a healing draught (2 wounds restored and one critical converted to a normal wound. Grim still looks bad). Finally, at the dwarfs insistence, they return to the Thunderwater Inn, where they eat a huge lunch, before he bullies Herr Brenner into giving him four bottles of Brettonian brandy. 

 

 “Might help Tiddles here if it all gets a bit hairy,” he remarks, nodding at Wesley (one to the tension meter).

 

 Finally they leave the town. They depart via the Reikland gate, getting a cheery wave from Detlev Kranst, the sergeant on duty, and trudge over some sodden fields in heavy rain towards the walled garden of Morr to the southwest of Stromdorf, on the other side of the Tranig river. On the way they are joined by one Waltrout Glockinger, a local who they discover skulking around behind them. He claims to know the priest of Morr, and volunteers to help them after being placed in a headlock by Grim.

 

 “A simple man,” comments Jeremy, looking at the man’s crossed eyes and sloping brow.

 

 “Much simpler and he couldn’t breathe!” mutters Wesley. The party are standing looking at the ferry on the other side of the Tranig. Waltrout has been ringing the ferry bell incessantly for five minutes now and tempers are getting frayed, (another one to the tension meter). Eventually Petra stops him before the dwarf disembowels him.

 

 “We need someone to swim across and fetch the ferry,” says Jeremy. “Can any one of you swim?” 

 

 Petra desperately tries not to catch anyone’s eye, then points at Waltrout. “Bet he can swim!” When the simpleton says he’s not sure, she suggests they sling him in to see. Jeremy stamps on that idea.

 

 Suddenly Petra’s sword is in her hand, pointing at Grim who is trying to sneak up on her. “Oh no you don’t, you wee bastard. You’re so not doing that again.” She pauses a bit, looks at the rest of the party then sighs deeply. Reluctantly she starts to strip down to her smalls. “And keep yer hands off my things!” she shouts, then, gripping a dagger between her teeth, slips into the water.

 

 Once Petra has started swimming, Waltrout starts giggling. Grim fetches him a clip across his ear. “What’re you chuckling about, you loon?”

 

 Glockinger picks himself up, still giggling. “The lady in her underwear, does she know there are things in the water?”

 

 The dwarf looks at Petra musingly. Almost half-way across, no point in calling her back. A muffled cry, and she starts to swim faster. Hard to yell with a dagger in your mouth, he thinks. 

 

 The scout strolls up, bow in hand. “You reckon there might be some eels in the river?” he wonders.

 

 “Reckon there might,” agrees the dwarf, as Petra claws her way up the bank, spitting out her knife and swearing. She rolls about on the ground, tugging a long writhing shape from her leg. “When you’ve quite finished,” he calls out across the river, “can you row the boat over?”

 

 

The Garden of Morr

 

 Less than fifteen minutes later the party stand in front of Morr’s garden. A   fifteen foot wall surrounds the temple, topped with spikes, and the only entrance appears to be via a dark tunnel that angles down under the walls. Two scythe wielding statues flank the tunnels mouth, and a crow sits on the head of one, cawing mockingly.

 

 “Feck off!” shouts Grim, shying a stone at the bird. It hits the bird dead centre, and it falls to the ground with a thud, dead. The rest of the party look at the dwarf accusingly.

 

 “Isn’t the crow meant to be a messenger of Morr?” asks Wesley innocently.

 

 No-one likes the tunnel, and Jeremy, using his mage-sight, sees a dense clot of purple shyish power filling it. The party confer, and Petra pulls out the rope she’d bought in Stromdorf. A quick throw, a scramble and in seconds she’s perched on top of the wall. The others quickly follow, and they all sit astride the wall, looking down over the Garden of Morr (except for Waltrout Glockinger, that is. He slips away, and they don’t even notice!). 

 

 The garden itself is full of gravestones and wilting black roses (“Dead centre of Stromdorf, this,” chortles Wes. Grim tries to push him off the wall). A path runs from what looks like the other end of the black tunnel across to a low stone building at the far side of the cemetery. The usual Stromdorf storm is in full flow, and a lightning rod on top of the mausoleum is struck by lightning twice while they watch. “Is that where the priest lives, Waltrout?” asks Jeremy, and they realize that he’s not there. 

 

 A brief period of squabbling, and the party decide to make the best of it (another one to the tension meter). Petra decides to scout, and walks easily along the top of the wall around the edge of the garden (three consecutive average athletics tests passed), before dropping onto the roof of the building at the far side of the cemetery, carefully avoiding the lightning rod. Seeing nothing unusual, she waves the others over.

 

 Grim, still sore from his last attempt at acrobatics, is dubious about balancing on a fifteen foot wall topped with spikes with a drop onto stone slabs below and a thunderstorm raging above (wise move, I say).  Wes, too is uncertain, then sees Waltrout emerging from a hole in the wall of the Garden. Quickly he flips the rope over to the inside of the wall, and clambers down, Grim and Jeremy not far behind. He dashes across the garden and collars the simpleton. “Why didn’t you say about the hole in the wall?” he shouts, shaking the man.

 

 “You didn’t ask!” replies Waltrout, cringing.

 

 Wesley lowers his raised hand, struck by the logic of the idiot’s argument. “OK, anything else you ought to tell me?” Silence.

 

 Grim and the wizard move up behind Wesley, Jeremy bleeding shadows from his hands, the dwarf looming* over the frightened man. “Speak up you feckin’ idiot!” he growls (Intimidation is in full swing here).

 

(* In a metaphysical sense, that is. He’s only 4’6”).

 

 Waltrout moves his mouth soundlessly like a fish. “Well?” bellows Wes into his face. The idiot waves his hand, gesturing behind the scout. There is the faintest of sounds, a moist, wet slurping, like a boot being pulled out of thick mud. “Feck,” mutters Wes, dropping Waltrout, and all three swing round suddenly.

 

 A handful of shambling undead horrors stand behind them, pieces of dirt and flesh falling from them. More can be seen pulling themselves from the earth all over the garden, gravestones tipping and falling as they burst from their rest. “Brains!” they scream and attack.

 

 Meanwhile, Petra has seen the undead crawling out of the ground. She jumps up and down, screaming, but her cries of alarm are drowned out by the storm, and she watches horror-stricken as her friends engage the dead. With a cry, Waltrout Glockinger dashes away from the party, ducking beneath grasping hands, and heads towards the mausoleum, which seems relatively free of zombies. 

 

 Cursing her luck (and that she can’t climb back up the wall from on top of the mausoleum!), Petra leaps from the building, lands, rolls and strikes the head from one of the emerging zombies in passing (passes her athletics test easily, and extra fortune die for striking from behind whilst the creature is emerging). She runs towards her companions, waving wildly.

 

 (I have a hatred of the henchmen rules in WFRP, and refuse to use them, but unfortunately this can make encounters with large groups pretty deadly. To overcome this I’ve made the zombies only score 1 wound per hit, but allow crits. Also I ruled that any hits with a comet by the undead would result in the player being pulled down and attacked by all of the zombies that haven’t attacked that turn; death by a thousand bites!)

 

 Back at zombie central, Jeremy is first to attack. He bleeds the darkness from his hands onto his sword, and slices the first of the creatures across the stomach, shadows flickering over it. It falls, clutching it’s rotting innards, and the wizard moves towards the waving Petra. 

 

 Grim is next, smashing the head from his opponent with a fearsome swipe of his axe, then barging the rotting remains aside. He is followed by Wesley, who quickly dispatches his opponent with a flick of his new sword and moves towards the mausoleum.

 

 But even as the heroes surge forward, more creatures appear, clawing their way from the ground, and throwing themselves upon them. Grim, Jeremy and Wes strike again and again, gobbets of half rotted flesh flying across the Garden like leaves, leaving a trail of once-again corpses in their wake. Suddenly Petra appears behind the creatures and, with a shout, another undead creation falls. The party enjoys a brief reunion.

 

 “Silly bint, you should have stayed on the roof. Now I’ve got someone else to look after!” shouts Grim, backhanding an undead corpse away. He laughs with the joy of killing, and the party move confidently with him.

 

 (The group are actually enjoying this, and are deep into their respective conservative/reckless tracks, getting deadlier every round. Each zombie is so weak [4 wounds apiece] that a single blow kills them, and no-one has missed yet. Also, I ruled that the nature of these newly arisen undead is such that they always strike last; with only 4 zombies attacking at a time, the party haven’t even been set upon, let alone wounded. This is all about to change).

 

 

 Suddenly a knot of creatures surge into them from ahead; simultaneously a mass of them attack from behind. The heroes fight back to back, felling a monster with each blow, but there are more of the creatures than they can kill, and Wesley is clawed along one side, whilst Petra suffers a nasty wound to her leg, the creatures arm clinging to her even after she has lopped the arm off. Bleeding and hurt, the party manage to push a little closer to the mausoleum, only some twenty paces away.

 

 A second rush of the creatures and the party is forced back away from the mausoleum entrance. Jeremy is briefly pulled down and savaged by two of the creatures. He’s rescued by Wes and Petra, but not before the wizard is badly wounded, (two wounds and a critical. Also more tension points. Ouch!). Both rescuers also suffer wounds, and are left staggered and bleeding. Things are looking bad for the ‘bandits.

 

 Petra tries to push ahead, using her rapier in lightning fast strikes to clear a way ahead. Jeremy follows, unable to maintain the ghostly shadows on his sword after his mauling, but killing one of the undead by more mundane means. This time it’s Wesley that is pulled down by the creatures and separated from the rest of the party, but manages to fight his way back to his feet with a burst of terror fueled energy. (Party tension reaches five and loads two stress onto each player. Things are looking decidedly ropey here!)

 

 It’s left to Grim to save the day. Holding his axe one-handed, he thrusts his hand into his pack and pulls out a bottle of Brettonian brandy, smashing it across the face of one of the zombies, spraying spirits everywhere. “Light it!” he screams, and Jeremy, despite being half dead from his mauling, manages to produce a lick of flame. The effect is instantaneous, two of the creatures bursting into flames and stagger around, before collapsing in a burning heap. The flames spread to the withered rose bushes, and they seem to welcome the fire, spreading it still further amongst the undead whilst the zombies mill around in confusion.

 

 Grim pulls two more bottles from his pack and passes one to Wes. They both throw them into the mass of creatures, spreading flames and confusion still further. In the disorder, the party move towards the mausoleum, slaying a burning zombie that attempts to take them into it’s fiery embrace.

 

 Gasping and lightly grilled, the heroes reach the door to the mausoleum. Wes pulls on it, but can’t shift it. “It’s locked! We’re feckin trapped! There gonna eat us!” He glances around wildly, then points at Petra. “Pick it quick!” 

 

  Petra moves up to the door. “There’s no keyhole, how can I pick it!” she says terror in her voice. 

 

 Grim pushes her aside and pulls the door open with a heave. Waltrout Glockinger is on the other side of the door, desperately holding onto the handle, frozen with terror. The dwarf unleashes a mighty head-butt, catapulting the simpleton from the doorway, and the crew pile through the doorway, pulling it shut behind them.

 

 

 

The Ossuary

 

 The four heroes stand by the doorway, gathering their breath Behind them, the door rattles and bangs as the shambling undead throw themselves against it, and there is the faintest smell of cooking pork. “It opens outwards you feckin’  idiots!” screams Grim.

 

 They look around the room carefully. Above them are small barred windows, and a stairway leading down could be seen on the far side of the room. It was lit dimly from above, and in the faint light they could see the room was lined with bones of every sort, from femurs to skulls to phalanges, arranged as mosaics and panels and even a chandelier. In a macabre kind of a way it was beautiful.

 

 Petra held up a hand. “You know, as soon as we cross this room, something  awful is going to happen.” There are nods from all around. (Not sure where this is going, or if it’s out of character, but it sounds interesting) “OK, I have a plan. First. Grim, give me the last bottle of brandy.”

 

 The dwarf hands over the bottle, and Petra takes a huge swallow. She hands it around and everyone takes a swig (Hmm, interesting. A misfortune die to athletic and intellect type tests, but a fortune die to fear tests). She gestures everyone closer. “OK, the plan.” She takes a deep breath and screams “Run!” at the top of her voice, before pelting across the room towards the stairway. A moments shock then everyone else sprints after her.

 

 (And that was the plan! Reminds me just a bit of Baldric and ‘Blackadder’. I must admit that I laughed so much that I allowed the first two characters to get across unscathed - only the last two would face opposition. Initiative rolls are made, based upon agility characteristics, and ... )

 

 Petra and Wesley reach the stairway first, followed, surprisingly, by Waltrout. Jeremy is next, and a skeleton falls with a clatter before him, picking itself up and attacking. By a combination of fear induced wild swipes, charging, an arrow in the back (from Wes) and just plain luck, the wizard manages to shatter the creature, running through a cloud of bone dust and fragments.

 

 Grim (of course!) is caught completely flat-footed by the charge. Above him,  the bone covered roof seems to be writhing with forming skeletons, grinning skulls surfacing from a sea of femurs. More creatures drop from the ceiling, landing with muted clatters, before drawing themselves up to face the dwarf.

 

 Grim charges the only creature before the stairway, and unleashes a huge downward stroke of his axe, cleaving the undead monster in two. But disaster! The head of his weapon ends up embedded in the creatures skull. With a wrench, the slayer pulls the haft of the weapon free, and throws himself down the stairs waving his broken weapon, hotly pursued by more of the skeletal creatures. 

 

 “FEEEEEEEECK!!!” 

 

 (I love it when a chaos star comes up. So characterful).

 

 

The inner sanctum

 

 

 We rejoin our brave band of heroes once again resting their backs against a  creaking door. Thuds and crashes attest to their enemies wish to get in. “Well, at least it’s locked this time,” says Wes brightly. 

 

 “Yes, locking us in,” mutters Petra.

 

 The room they are in is large, with stone walls and some fine furnishings. Curtains cover much of the walls, and there are two doors flanked by lit oil lamps set into alcoves. There is the remains of a meal on a table, next to a book and a decorated human skull. Grim walks up to the table and smashes the skull with what’s left of his axe, then crams the meal into his mouth. He looks at the thief for a minute, then shakes his head. “Now I need a weapon.”

 

 Petra instinctively puts her hand on Vilaro, and Wes clutches his bow protectively. Jeremy, without a word, draws his sword and gives it to the dwarf. The slayer grins horribly. “Well done, wizard. Now I don’t have to beat it out you!”

 

 Petra sidles up next to Jeremy. “He means ‘thank you,’” she whispers.

 

 But the wizard ignores her, slipping deep into the winds of magic. A background of purple shyish power stains the air, but much stronger is the taint of foul dhur. Necromancy. (Duh!) He half turns, eyes closed and points. When he opens his eyes, he is looking at one of the doors. “There,” he says. “The blackest magic lies within.”

 

 Grim and Petra lead as they enter the passage, weapons at the ready. 

 

 At the end of the passage, a macabre sight greets their eyes. A large room, with a coffin at its centre, and in it lies a priest of Morr, presumably Theodric Grabbe, who they have been sent to fetch. At the entrance to the room stands a hulking undead warrior, clad in corroded plate mail, and holding a greatsword easily in one hand. A hunk of marble, a gravestone it looks like, is strapped to his left arm. Stranger still, a decaying woman stands at the coffin’s head, caressing the priests face. She looks up and smiles, revealing rotted gums and shriveled eyes.

 

 “Don’t look so shocked, you pathetic simpletons.” The creature says, “Yes, I , Lazarus Mourn, am wearing the festering corpse of a feeble and weak willed woman, but ...”

 

 Two arrows suddenly sprout from the corpses chest. “Shut up and die you fecker!” screams Wes, a wet stain appearing on his trousers.

 

 (And monologuing. Doesn’t it just cry out to be treated this way? I promise Wes a fortune dice just because.)

 

 Surprisingly, Petra is the first to attack. She seems unaffected by the aura of fear around the creatures and throws herself forward. With a flurry of blows, she drives the hulking corpse out of the doorway (Duellist’s strike. So that’s what it’s for). 

 

 But the creature is only temporarily off balance. It whips round it’s verdigried sword, wisps of foul energy trailing from it, and strikes Petra a mighty blow. After her precipitate advance, the thief is unable to evade the counter-attack, and it takes her in the side, smashing her into the wall and unconsciousness (Holy crap! One blow and Petra’s down, with a critical too!)

 

 Grim leaps forward to stand over Petra’s unconscious form, unleashing his trusty troll-slayer strike and scoring a solid strike on the undead warrior. The creature rocks back, wounded but far from dead. Gulp.

 

 (There is chaos amongst the crew. They’ve realized that if things don’t turn out just right, they all could end up very very dead [and probably living a half-life as Mourn’s playthings]. “Leave him, kill the bloody woman!” Craig [Petra] is screaming - well out of character being as he’s unconscious, but the excitement is at fever pitch.)

 

 With the doorway free, Wes bursts past Grim and the undead warrior and strikes at the rotting woman. He’s shaking so much from fear he cannot cast a spell, and is forced to strike at Mourn with his sword. Luckily his opponent seems a little ill-at-ease in his inhabited body, and fails to evade the Grey wizards  clumsy stroke, staggering back with a deep cut in his head.

 

 The necromancer screams with rage, and points a finger at Jeremy, chanting a few words. Black dust seems to fly from Mourns outstretched hand, and, to everyones horror, the wizard ages before their very eyes, hair fading, back bending, eyes whitening with cataracts, before collapsing at the necromancer’s feet, unconscious, maybe dying.

 

 (So here we are, two adventurers down in two attacks, and both the others  almost certain to follow if they’re hit again. Wes, Jeremy and Petra are all crippled with stress and the scout is sporting a temporary insanity, whilst Grim teeters on the edge of unconsciousness. Everyone checks their character sheets for special abilities, tricks or escape clauses. Fortune points are spent and fingers are crossed; Wes even remembers the fortune dice I promised him for stopping Mourn’s monologuing. It’s all down to Wes and the (hopefully) shot of the century).

 

 Shaking with fear, Wes mouths a prayer to Morr (are you kidding? You’ve just burnt down his bloody temple!). He pulls back his bowstring, exhales shakily and releases.

 

 The arrow flies true and strikes the necromancer in the throat, killing him instantly. The warrior opposite Grim collapses in a shower of bone fragments and grave dust, armour and weapons falling in a clattering heap. Victory.

 

 

 

Aftermath

 

 

 After bandaging everyone up, the adventurers search the complex thoroughly, stealing anything worth having, including an ancient looking scroll hidden in an old book, two potions that Wes swears are healing potions (but refuses to take), some interesting black underwear (Wes), a ring and a pendant from the corpse, the gravestone that the undead warrior was using as a shield and his sword (Grim). Madriga Brenner’s corpse started to stir briefly, attempting to say something, but her skull was comprehensively shattered by the Slayer before it could say anything. Waltrout Glockinger is dragged from under a table where he is cowering and made to carry the players packs.

 

 (The players have no idea who Olaus Strichelm is, and completely missed/forgot/ignored all the information presented in the town [a frickin’ ten foot bronze statue in the town square!]. Jeremy has also yet to use his wizard sight in the presence of the necklace and discover its sinister powers. The trouser bandits truly are investigators extraordinaire. Ah well)

 

 After hiding away their loot, the heroes rouse the priest using one of the potions (‘oh, it really is a healing potion’ says Wes). Theoddric Grabbe is overjoyed to be rescued, and that the necromancer is dead, and he agrees to accompany the crew back to Stromdorf at once. As he leaves the mausoleum and sees the damage inflicted upon the temple he is less and less pleased. Finding his pet crow dead seems to be the last straw. By the time they reach the walls of Stromdorf he is truly pissed off. 

 

 

 (This has got to be the best session in ages. The zombie fight was exhausting, and Petra’s plan was truly extraordinary; Grim breaking his axe was icing on the cake. And as for the mausoleum, well, almost perfect [not quite, as I forgot Waltrout in the fight scene, hence him hiding under the table]. And as for burning down the temple and killing the priests pet bird, priceless. And they still have no idea what the powers of the pendant are, or just whose sword they have acquired. They should write a book, ‘How to make frieds and influence people’)

 

  

[Boons, Banes, Stars and Comets]

 Oh yes, an example I forgot. Banging your head on a wall and drowning. (Though that was in special circumstances and felt harsh even to me!)

[Boons, Banes, Stars and Comets]

 I'm with Valvorik, chaos stars are special. The nature of my game (Black humour interspaced with extreme violence and stupidity) means that my players should fear the chaos star ... unless it's rolled  by someone else. Then they should be ready to laugh, they really can be a high-point of a session. Examples to date:-

Falling off a stagecoach whilst trying to be Eroll Flynn

Breaking a bowstring

Treading on a Duchess'  lap-dog and killing it

Tripping whilst vaulting a bannister - fall ten foot, stunned and a broken nose (then being munched on by zombies. Ouch!)

Getting your weapon stuck in someones head

Farting whilst meeting a potential noble patron (a real stinker)

 

The best way to deal with them is off the top of your head and in keeping with your game - something noble and heroic like a snapped weapon if thats where you are (fighting on with a broken sword etc), and something a bit earthier if it warrants (I've always fancied someone choking on a fishbone ...). For me, it truly is one of the best mechanism in wfrp

 

[GM help with party wipe in Gathering Storm]

 Stash 'em in a clearing well away from the herdstone (ie in the larder) and let one of the lesser beastmen sneak in to 'play' with. Either Foaldeath can come by and kill the other beast, or (my favoured response) let the players improvise something to cut their bonds - I guarantee they will. Then they'll have to take on the baby beastie unarmed, and some of them may well die, but, well, 'Grim and Perilous' is actually another name for 'dead and smelly'. Go for it

[Cheap tickets - after action report]

 Four dead-uns and a funeral

 

 

The characters

Petra Nunce, Reiklander - ex-gambler, thief
Wesley Smitt, Reiklander - scout
Grim Grimmson, Dwarf - trollslayer
Jeremy Dewbender - apprentice grey wizard
Cat - a cat

To;
Magister general of the Grey College
Altdorf

Sir,

I wish to report on the progress of my investigation into the persistent storm in the region of Stromdorf. As you know, the region has always been plagued by tempests, but this has increased dramatically in the last few months, strengthening still more in the last two weeks. As part of my inquiry I have engaged the services of three associates, Petra Nunce, a scribe and investigator of the highest virtue, Grim Grimmson a dwarf slayer, close mouthed, sober and deadly, and Wesley Smitt, an ex-soldier and scout of marked intellect. The goals, morals and aspirations of these three heroes match mine, and we have discovered much of import.

Firstly, the storms seem to be tied with fragments of a certain stone, heavily imbued with Azyr magic. We have obtained one piece of this tablet after fighting a score of foul man-beasts, and losing one of our number, a retired Tilean sea-captain named Eduardo Rodriguez. We also have leads on the location of three more of the fragments, one in the town itself and another two to the south west. Additionally, we have met one Niklas Schulman, a powerful Celestial wizard, sent here by his College to investigate the unusual storms. He has examined the stone, and confirms that it is highly charged with Azyr energy; he believes the completed stone may well hold clues to the mechanism that is driving the storms. He seems honest and capable, and we are co-operating with him fully in our investigation.

I remain your humble servant,

J Dewbender (wizard of the Grey)

 

 

“Not in a million years!” spat Petra. “You want to get your hands on our stone, you pay us good money.”

Niklas Schulman, sitting opposite, frowned. “Magister Dewbender, your leader,” there was a muffled laugh, but Herr Schulman continued, “Your captain has ordered you to co-operate fully with me. I need the stone!” His eyes began to glow with a faint blue light.

“None of that mystic crap,’ sneered Petra, a dagger appearing in her hand as if by magic. “Fifty gold for the piece. Nothing less.” Behind her, Wesley loosened his sword in it’s scabbard.

“I will inform Herr Dewbender of your intransigence!” The wizards eyes began to glow alarmingly.

“Yeah, and I’ll tell him you’re a chaos demon in disguise and **** small golden marbles that sing, dance and can tell the future. He’d probably believe it.” She made rubbing motions with her thumb and forefinger. “Now pay up!”

A brief silence. “I am a little strapped for cash, would a promissory note ... ? “ More laughter. “No, I see. Well, how about if you were to make a rubbing of the stone ... “

The trial of Keila Cobblepot and Tristan Eigel scarcely lasted a morning. Valuables recovered from the halfling hostelry were identified as belonging to various missing people. Witness after witness appeared to testify to the defendants evil ways - devil worship, animal sacrifice and membership of proscribed cults were all alleged. A sworn statement by the heroes was read out in court, describing how the Holst’s had implicated both themselves and their neighbours in sacrificing lone travellers. No defence was offered by the accused, other than curses from the halfling, and muted sobs from Tristan. Some fifteen minutes after sentence was passed, the two prisoners were led out into the yard, and hoisted aloft by the local hangman, to dance and jerk until they were dead.

After the execution, the four heroes retired to the bar at the Thunderwater Inn, to ponder on the illusory nature of life (Jeremy), try to chat up the barmaid (Wesley), fleece the locals (Petra) and get completely pissed (Grim). They finish the night in various rooms and hallways, in states of inebriation ranging from maudlin (the wizard) to unconsciousness (the troll slayer), and cash levels ranging from pleasantly weighty (Jeremy), through cleaned out (Wesley - the barmaid took a ‘contribution’) and empty-as-always (Grim), to owing several crowns (Petra, a classic counter-sting, and one of the best parts of the session. I set her up with someone supposedly drunk and a little stupid, then, once she’d won some money, let her suggest they ‘make it a little interesting’. Cue to the very skilled opposing gambler to throw off his supposed drunkenness, pitch in many fortune and skill die, as well as triggering a very nifty Ranaldian good luck charm and clean Petra out. How I laughed!)

(Oh yes, as this money included all the money they’d extorted from Niklas Schulman, as well as all the parties earnings so far, [Petra being the group treasurer!], things are about to get interesting for the slimy one. And, finally, the not-so-drunk gambler was employed by the local thieves guild, still looking for their Imperial seal, to get back at the party).

The heroes are woken some time after midnight by a hammering on the door of the Inn, followed by a crash as the door is smashed in, then screams of terror. Jeremy, who has been woken by the thoughts of a love sick cat, bursts out of his room and promptly falls over Grim, sleeping at his door. (OK, so I set it up, but the Grey wizard was being such a prude in the drinking session - Jeremy is delayed whilst he finds his feet). Grim, kicked awake by the wizard’s fall, leaps to his feet screaming “Khazalid!” staggers to the balcony and sees a crowd of attackers in the doorway to the Inn. The stairs are blocked by the Innkeeper and his ‘boys’, so grasps his axe and vaults the rail directly to the taproom.

And catches his foot on the balustrade, before plunging ten foot to land face first on one of the tables. Ouch! (Yes! they still have it! Grim adds three misfortune die for being half pissed, it being dark and only having one eye [see ‘Back from the Dead’] and comes up with two chaos stars! Stunned, prone and with a broken nose, everyone but Grim laughs - ‘how does he smell?’ quips Wesley - ‘bloody awful!’ answers Petra. I add two to the tension meter, chortling wildly).

There is a loud explosion and one of the figures at the door is thrown back sans head - Brenner has discharged his blunderbus. Another one of the attackers leaps forward, and the heroes see it is Tristan Eigel. “Brains!” he screams, before falling on the hapless Grim, mauling him. Wes, appearing on the balcony, recognizes the shambling corpse of Keila Cobblepot in the doorway, and in his terror voids his bladder and misses a relatively easy shot with his bow (failed fear test, also becomes frightened and pushing the tension meter up again - stress all round, as well as a new nickname for Wes ‘Tiddles”).

Petra, pulling on her jerkin appears next and, seeing the dwarf in difficulty, decides to repeat Grim’s leap. (Yes, please!) She flies over the railing, and strikes the undead Tristan with her feet, (easily passes her fear test, then acing her athletics test with a comet! - “That’s the way its done, shorty“ - another token to the tension pool). She knocks him over before skewering him with her blade, Vilaro.

Jeremy, regaining his feet (and passing his fear test easily), flings a clot of darkness at the horror that is Keila Cobblepot, and she collapses like an unstrung puppet. The remaining two undead charge into the Inn, one attacking Petra, the other throwing itself on Grim. The gambler successfully evades her attacker, (first time dodge has ever worked!), but Grim gets munched again. (He is having a bad day).

Brenner and his ‘boys’, standing at the bottom of the stairs, yell much encouragement but decline to help out in the melee. Grim, dragging himself to his feet and easily passing his fear test (+1 fortune dice as still squiffy), is bleeding from numerous bites and is in a really bad mood. He unleashes a huge blow with his axe, bisecting his attacker at the waist and sending the torso spinning across the room, leaving the legs still standing briefly. Petra, dancing forward, guts her slow moving opponent, before slipping away behind him to find herself face to face with another shambling horror - Lukas Shultenberg this time, a drunk. She just refrains from gutting him, and he collapses away in a faint.

More screaming, and an old man bursts in, shouting about a living skeleton. The rock steady crew gather themselves and follow the man back to his house, where a skeleton, obviously some scholars model, is writhing about. A few quick blows from Wes and it’s shattered, much to the old man, Professor Kopfchen’s, relief. He declares himself deeply in their debt, before ushering them out and bolting the door behind them.

Bloody, tired and with damp trousers (Wes), the four heroes trudge back to the Inn. The watch is present, and Captain Kessler summons the local barber, Ralf Messer, to tend to their wounds, before demanding statements from them all. Several long hours later, they retire to their rooms ... to find them ransacked and the Imperial message stolen. Oops.

Classic action from the trouser bandits. A lot of social stuff at the start; negotiating with Schulman, the trial and the card game. The fight at the end was fabulous, what with Wes wetting himself [a nice bit of improvisation on my part, I thought, and an embarrassing weakness for Wes when he fails future stress tests ... ], and of course Grim’s complete lack of athletic ability, worsened by his missing eye. The crew are making noises about how easy to kill undead are - true, but what about the 100 plus they are due to meet next?

I’m also pleased with the amount of confusion that’s going on here - the stolen message, owing money to the guild, Schulman’s mission, Petra having lost most of the parties money in a card game, Jeremy’s belief in the party as Imperial agents, not to mention the yet-to-appear real Imperial Agent. Oh yes, I also passed Wes a folklore note about how infectious zombie bites were. Ho, ho, confusion to my players!

[WFRP is just not as fun as the "good old days"]

 Nothing is as much fun as the old days, its called getting old. Now, where did I put my glasses?

[Free RPG Day - What is FFG offering for WFRP or other games?]

 No, Imperial Cadian Storm-trooper Chiropodist is the one for me. Mighty steam powered nail-clippers. Mindless drone foot-buffing servitors. Emotionless guard-receptionist calculating machines. Evil foot gunk. Perverted bunions. Half sentient rabid attack verrucas. The list is tedious

[FINAL HOURS (amethyst order, rank 4, in hero's call) makes you virtually INMORTAL]

 Interesting take on how to become a liche. Kill yourself, cast the spell, live a quiet life in a remote castle going quietly mad and pulling the wings off insects. I like it. 

[New to warhammer fantasy - witch novels to get into?]

 To be honest, I don't really think the warhammer novels are very well written; I find them a bit two dimensional and far too focussed on the tabletop game; also any humour in them is very laboured. That being said, I think the quality of the writing for the game-books on all editions editions is far higher. Fluff pieces abound, and give a nice pointers on the 'feel' of the world, and the narrative aspects of the game. 

If your looking for books, you can't go wrong with fritz leiber, or hugh cook or any of the Virconium novels. Some of the after-action reports here aren't too shabby either.

[Let's go shopping]

 And it doesn't look as good

[[Session Report] 3.15: There's No Such Thing As Giant Rats... (MAJOR SPOILAGE)]

 Love it, nicely dark and humourous. Now I'll have to go back and read the whole thing. 

[Having trouble managing more than 3 players at a time! Anyone else run into this problem.]

I have shitloads of dice, and everyone has their basic dice pool made up in front of them; if they can't get their act together , I just move 'em to the bottom of the initiative ladder. I also have a timer which we only ever used once (everyone got so excited that we knocked the cards over - up to that point it was a lot of fun). That being said, I now play with 4 pc's and it is harder than with three; the dynamics are different and they often split up. I also reward mine a lot for good behaviour (like an extra fortune dice for being quick, but disguise it as something game related). You could always get more beer.

[Cheap tickets - after action report]

 A Beastly business (11)

 

 

 The clearing was wide and green, raised slightly above the level of the surrounding swamp. At it’s centre stood a great stone obelisk, decorated with fetishes and feathers and the skulls of men and animals. All around its base were scattered bones and half-eaten carcasses, gnawed long-bones and spoiled flesh, all crawling with flies.

 

 Sprawled around the stone were many foul looking creatures, hoofed like a beast, but standing upright like a man, bellowing and braying at the sky. There were horns and teeth a-plenty, claws and fur and a few tentacles and less obvious appendages. Some fought, some slept and some chewed on bones, whilst in the middle of the clearing, directly before the herdstone stood the great beastman, muscled and armoured, towering over the lesser beasts. Lightning flashed and crashed continuously above, like drums or a great battery of cannons, outlining the mighty beast in blue fire. 

 

 A sudden blast, louder than any other, brought the creature to it’s knees. When it arose, it’s eyes glowed with the same blue light as the lightning, glowing eerily. It raised a hand, pointing towards the swamp. “Intruders!” it brayed. Kill them all!”

 

 

 

The characters

 

Petra Nunce, Reiklander - gambler

Wesley Smitt, Reiklander - scout

Grim Grimmson, Dwarf - trollslayer

Jeremy Dewbender - apprentice grey wizard

Cat - a cat 

 

 

 

 

The next day, Jeremy and Petra go to see Herr Kessler about a possible reward. Wes sets off to recover Grim, to try to add some details to the lightning foci map the wizard had sketched out, and to buy himself a spare bowstring.

 

 Petra and Jeremy are quickly ushered into the Captains office. He congratulates them on apprehending an evil murderer, and offers them the thanks of the whole town (‘but what about the money?’ whispers Petra) - unfortunately he cannot give them more than twenty-one shillings; even this has to be entered into the account books as ‘payment for temporary employment as watchmen’! Petra accepts the money with good grace, and asks for a full receipt for her books. When asked what they will be doing next, Jeremy explains (again) about the abnormal storms; they will be returning to the area of the Holst farm to investigate further. Herr Kessler happily tells them that he is sending a squad of guards out to arrest the entire family this very morning, and suggests the party may wish to accompany them.

 

 Cue the devious Ms Nunce. Firstly she apologizes that they have no horses to keep up with the guards (standard test - the captain will happily provide horses for a short period). Secondly, she suggests that it might be easier if they remained as supernumeraries of the watch ‘in case of any unpleasantness’ (a hard test, but Petra uses one of her social action cards, and Arno Kessler is putty in her hands. He writes out a warrant of office there and then, and stamps it with his seal). Thirdly, Petra brings up the delicate question of pay (very hard, but - Petra aces it - they will be paid as sergeants in light of their special skills! Ten shillings each a week!). Finally she asks for pay in advance (another very hard test - at last a fail!), but this is laughed off by the Captain.

 

 (The rest of the group are open-mouthed as Petra cons the head of the watch out of horses, money and even a writ of office. I must admit that Craig, who plays Petra, really gets into the whole gambler persona. Comes from being an accountant (hah!))

 

 Meanwhile, Wes is chatting with the owner of the local general store, buying a spare bowstring. He fills in details of the local surroundings from descriptions by the shopkeeper (see map), before leaving to fetch Grim.

 

 Grim is recovered from Eduardo Rodriguez’s hovel, sporting a rolled up pair of red pantaloons and a terrific hangover. He is accompanied by the drunk, who is wearing a pretty impressive-looking sword, and who vows to follow Grim to the very depths of hell; as this is a place Grim already seems to be inhabiting, he merely smiles bravely and tries not to shake his head too much.

 

 They meet back at the Inn, and eat quickly, before heading out to the local general store to buy supplies (they’ve actually learnt something from their experiences!). Petra, in charge of the money (which fool decided on that?), also buys herself a wire cheese cutter, and conceals it in a pocket.

 

 A trudge through the rain to the Reikland gate, where they meet up with the squad detailed to arrest the Holst’s. Petra, on absolutely top form, manages to squeeze out a horse for Eduardo (as long as he rides at the back of the column). She also manages to get waterproof capes for them all after paying a ‘deposit’ of 5 shillings to the squad sergeant, Detlev Kranst.

 

-----

 

 It’s a short ride of an hour or so for the group to reach the Holst’s farm. Long before that, they realize something is amiss. There is the smell of burning, and a low bank of smoke can be seen ahead. Everyone spreads out and loosens their weapons. They top the final rise, and ahead lies devastation. All the buildings are burnt out, and dead animals lie in the fields, hacked apart in an orgy of wanton destruction. Closer in, they find one of the family, hanging upside down from a tree over a guttering fire. One of the brothers, they think, from the size of the crisped corpse.

 

 Further on they come across a body pinned to the remains of the barn by arrows and left to scorch and to bleed out. A little further and they come across the final horror. A scatter of butchered and chewed limbs surround a cook fire, their gutted torsos piled carelessly nearby. A pyramid of heads overlooks the grisly scene.

 

 (The group was actually a little uncomfortable with this whole scene - the descriptions were very explicit. I was hoping to give them an idea of the consequences of their previous actions).

 

 Wesley promptly lose his lunch, together with a couple of the soldiers. Even Grim looks a little green around the gills, and spits. “Beastmen,” he growls. No-one needs to look for tracks for proof, but Wes wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and examines the ground anyway.

 

 He nods in agreement. “Beastmen. They came from the swamp.” He points south. “Yesterday, I reckon. Probably in the morning, and spent all day doing ... this. They didn’t leave more than a couple of hours ago.”

 

 Grim considers this. “They are beasts,” he growls. “I say we chase after them and kill them as they sleep with their bellies full of man-flesh.”

 

 The rest of the adventurers agree, if not altogether heartily in Petra’s case. The soldiers, however, are a different matter. They refuse to enter the swamp (‘Not in our orders’ they chorus), but the sergeant, noting that they will be unable to ride their horses in the bog, offers to look after the mounts and wait for them at the farm. “But only until dusk,” he warns.

 

 So, off they set. The party splits into two parts, with Wes, Petra and Jeremy slipping ahead quietly. Wes leads, carefully following the beastmen’s tracks, and the thief and the wizard follow quietly, Jeremy blending unnaturally into the shadows, whilst Petra simply sneaks along. The dwarf and the drunk let the others get well ahead; neither is particularly stealthy, and hope the vanguard will warn them of any enemies.

 

 For once, the plan goes perfectly, and Wes leads the party through the swamp without mishap, following a rough track and avoiding undue noise and disturbance; the continual roll of thunder from above help to conceal any sounds. Only the drunk, Eduardo Rodriguez, manages to fall in the mud, and is dragged out by Grim. He fishes a small flask out of his pocket and drinks the contents in a huge swallow. “Now the day is-a better. Time for-a the killing, yes?”

 

 At one point they come across an old cart discarded just off the path. It’s coated with coal dust - “Herr Weschler’s, the coal merchant’s” mutters Wes. Petra quickly examines it for valuables, but finds nothing and they press on.

 

 Finally the party find themselves at the edge of a clearing. In the centre is a tall stone, with another rock lashed on top of it. Lightning strikes it every few minutes, leaving white after images in everyones eyes. A huge beastman stands before it whilst others lie all around the clearing, many of them appearing asleep. 

 

 Jeremy closes his eyes and channels the winds. A bright, bright blue nimbus surrounds the topmost rock. He also gets the faintest impression of a furry body curled up tight, asleep out of the rain some distance behind. He shrugs; it is after all only a cat. He nudges Grim. “That’s it. The rock on top is what we want.”

 

 Petra severely doubts the ‘we’ part of the statement, but figures what the heck. “Let’s see if we can even the odds a little,” she whispers. She points at one of the beastmen crouched near them at the edge of the clearing. ”That one.” Carefully she slips away from the rest and approaches it from behind, with Wes behind her. 

 

 Two steps out from the edge of the clearing, and she whips her cheese cutter over the creatures head, and drags it into cover. Wes leaps in, stabbing the creature repeatedly in the stomach, spraying blood everywhere. The creature writhes and kicks, choking soundlessly, bodily fluids splashing on the ground. Petra manages to hold onto her wire, cutting the life out of the creature and stopping it from crying out, while Wes finishes the beast off.

 

 (This is actually a good plan! We discussed the use of a garrote after Grim’s reappearance - the weapon would inflict a small amount of damage every turn, but would prevent the creature from crying out. Petra silences a beast whilst someone else takes it out. The creature suffers 1 misfortune dice, but can make a basic attack against anyone in the engagement; alternatively he may try an opposed strength test to break free).

 

 As the two heroes lower the body to the ground, one of the nearby beasts starts to sniff the air. Realization washes over Wes. “****! The blood! It can smell it!” He feels a breeze on his neck. “The winds behind us.” The creature growls something at his companion, and starts to move towards Wes and Petra, questing with his snout.

 

 (As the two killers crouch over the corpse, I ask the question, ‘which way is the wind blowing?’ No-one thought about being scented, and these are beastmen. I decide the wind has a reasonable chance of being against them and spin a pencil. Guess what - it comes up almost behind them. The creatures can smell something).

 

 The approaching beastman is much bigger than the one they‘d already slain, and it snarls and slavers as it approaches. Suddenly Wes pops up and quickly fires his bow twice at the surprised creature (rapid fire action; 2 clear hits), piercing it’s neck and chest. Petra flings one of her daggers, and is pleasantly surprised when it strikes home deep in the creatures eye. It staggers back a pace screaming with pain, until Jeremy, surrounded by a shadowy aura of power, flicks a clot of darkness into its face. It falls heavily and does not move. 

 

  Grim and Eduardo surge out of cover, charging the only nearby beastman. He’s caught flat-footed, and scarcely has a chance to raise his sword before the dwarf barrels into him, cleaving him with a mighty blow from his axe. The Tilean follows up, piercing the creature with a lightning fast thrust of his rapier into it’s throat. It falls dead at his feet. 

 

 (So far its all been good, with the players taking three of their enemies by surprise, and slaying them without injury. However, there are another eight Ungors, plus another Gor and Izka Madtooth himself yet to face [i hate the henchmen rules and refuse to use them], so I think it’s going to get rocky soon!)

 

 Almost instantly there is a bellowing roar from the leader of the beastmen,  Izka Madtooth, and he charges Grim. Three of the smaller Ungors are also within charge range and follow. The rest of the beasts bellow and mill about, preparing to join the fray.

 

 Grim is thrown back by the impact, one of the fearsome creatures horns slicing deep into his side, spilling blood onto the grass. Eduardo is then struck by one of the lesser beasts, but manages to deflect it’s attack with his sword. 

 

 Wes takes a careful shot at one of the charging lesser beasts and pierces his heart, killing him instantly. (‘Sniper Shot’ - 4 successes, 1 boon and a delay - 9 wounds, two of them criticals - he’s dogfood!). Jeremy, still concealed in in the bushes, breathes deeply of the winds of magic and casts it at another of the attackers. This time the clot of darkness seems to twist and curl as it strikes, digging deep into the creatures side. It roars terribly, but continues to charge, striking Eduardo with its horns. The Tilean cannot dodge this attack, and takes a terrible wound to his arm.

 

 Even as Eduardo takes his bitter wound, Grim delivers a mortal blow with his great axe to Izka Madtooth, shattering his ribs and spraying blood everywhere. The beast-king staggers back, stunned by the lethal blow. But the creature will not die! It lowers its head and, with a death roar, charges, striking the stunned Eduardo Rodriguez, driving his horns right through the Tilean swordsman. Man and beast fall to the floor, fatally entwined.

 

 (A hint to all GM’s out there; kill off any npc’s with a funny accent as quickly as possible. What starts up as fun ends up as a bit of a strain. Hence Eduardo taking one for the team; also I couldn’t let Grim die again so soon)

 

 Meanwhile Petra, not willing to throw her last dagger, darts forward, keeping low to the ground. She slides behind the wounded Ungor, and stabs her blade deep into its back, slicing it’s spinal cord. The creature falls dead at her feet.

 

 Any thought that the beasts would be demoralized by the death of their leader are dispelled when another of the monstrous Gors charges in, accompanied two of its lesser brethren. He strikes Grim with his sword, adding another wound to the dwarf’s scarred torso, whilst one of the Ungors strikes Petra, slashing at her back with his blade. Lacking the innate toughness of the dwarf, the Gambler takes a deep cut to her flank, but ignores the wound, throwing herself headlong into a forward roll, to pluck the sword from Eduardo’s twitching hands, reverse her direction and strike back at her attacker. Effortlessly she pierces the creatures arm, who flinches, then is struck dead by a grey fletched arrow shot by Wes. 

 

 This is too much for the rest of the beastmen, and they turn and flee, braying loudly for help. Ominously, replies can be heard from nearby.

 

 “Quick, Grim, fetch the stone,” shouts Petra. She crouches down next to the dying Eduardo Rodriguez and raises his head. “My-a sword,” he whispers, “return it to my-a father.” He clasps Petra’s hand tightly, whispers “Gratzia,” then falls back unconscious.

 

Grim dashes to the great herdstone and clambers up, starting to undo the magically imbued rock strapped to it, whilst Wesley advances into the clearing, arrow knocked, covering him.

 

 “Get the cart!” shouts Petra, and Jeremy dashes off to get it. The gambler crouches over Eduardo, desperately trying to staunch the bleeding with a rag torn from her shirt, but it is to no avail. The Tilean gasps, then expires in her arms.

 

 Meanwhile, movement can be heard in the swamp as more beastmen approach. Grim is blasted off the herdstone by a bolt of lightning, but the strike also severs the last of the ropes holding it in place. It falls to the floor next to the gently smoking dwarf, who gathers it into his arms and staggers  dazedly back to the rest of the party, arriving just in time to drop the stone into Herr Weschlers cart next to Eduardo’s body. 

 

 There is a shout, and Wesley fires his bow at a beastman appearing at the far side of the clearing, while the rest of the group drag the laden cart back towards the farm. More shouts, and further beasts appear, some roaring and milling around the great herdstone, the rest starting after the adventurers.

 

 An exhausting chase ensues, with Wesley and Jeremy trying to discourage pursuit, whilst the others pant and gasp, pulling the cart as fast as they can. The pursuers never seem to get close enough to strike at the party, perhaps discouraged by the arrows and shadowy darts launched at them. The creatures stop pursuing when the heroes leave the swamp, and the party staggers back to the safety of the farm and sergeant Kranst and his men.

 

 

-----

 

  That evening, the four companions sit around a table at the Thunderwater Inn, toasting their lost companion. Eduardo’s sword, Vilaro, lies in the middle of the table, a last reminder of the dead man. Grim lays a hand on it for a moment, communing with the steel, then looks up at Petra. “Tell me, gambling woman, what did my friend ask of you.”

 

 Petra leans forward and lifts the blade, before strapping it around her waist, then sweeping her cloak forward to conceal it. “Why, to look after it for him, of course.” She nods at her companions, then gets up and heads towards a card game in the corner.

 

 

 (Well, that was quite interesting, the players are getting frighteningly competent. Grim is racking up the wounds again, but really is deadly in combat; I never realized quite how lethal ‘troll-feller strike’ was. Wes’s bow skills are equally deadly, and Jeremy is coming along nicely as an all rounder. As for Petra, what can I say. Clever, sneaky and able to cut your throat and steal your purse before you notice the draught. Scary. Oh yes, the cat. Had so much fun with her last session, I 'm going to keep her as an npc for a while longer).

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Tha matter of profane artifacts and their righteous destruction]

 An important point is that how would the players know about the vaults under the light college? Its not the sort on information your average oik from Dumbsville, Uber. is  going to know. Also, the majority of commoner citizens are just trying to get by, and not come to the attention of the authorities (like someone previously suggested, kind of hard to explain to the local witch hunter what your doing with Khornes own nose-picker in your bag). Personally, I suspect most of my players would sell anything remotely valuable for a tidy profit if they could convince themselves they weren't too bad. Failing that, they'd probably drop them down a big hole (which would come back to haunt them in many ways). Now thats an idea!

[Cheap tickets - after action report]

 Of cats and colds (10)

Jeremy felt a faint prickle on the back of his neck, and a familiar swelling of power in his belly. He looked around searchingly. There, at an opened, shadowed window above, he saw a pair of green eyes staring at him. They blinked once, there was a moment of dizziness, and a second viewpoint was overlain on his sight. He staggered, before the scene settled and he realized he was looking down into a nearby courtyard. The darkened yard was incredibly bright, and sudden movements of dust and shadow pulled at him. A pause, and there was the faintest of creaks, impossibly loud. He saw a short figure sneaking out of the hostelry, pack on back.

“Who could that be?,” he whispered. The halfling, Keila Cobblepot, he realized. “Now follow her.” The strange overlain vision wheeled suddenly, and he found himself staring at ... something light, something pink against a dark background, viewed through half closed eyes. The vision resolved itself and he found himself looking at a wall of fur inches from his eyes.

With an effort, Jeremy raised his eyes. The cat in the window looked up briefly and half closed her eyes mockingly. Another moment of dizziness, and she went back to licking her arse.

The characters

Petra Nunce, Reiklander - gambler
Wesley Smitt, Reiklander - scout
Grim Grimmson, Dwarf - trollslayer
Jeremy Dewbender - apprentice grey wizard

After a cold and sleepless night outside Stromdorf’s locked gates, (not helped by Wes hawking up huge gobbets of phlegm), the four heroes enter the town. The duty sentry directs them towards the barracks, and they split up outside the building, with Jeremy and Petra taking their prisoner to the local watch house, whilst Wes and Grim decide to check out the town.

(Quite sensible, really, with Petra using her new talent (master of disguise) no-one suspects her, and Jeremy has that letter from the head of the Grey College. The two less disguised [and more stupid] characters decide to avoid the authorities, at least until Jeremy has established their alibi’s).

After viewing Jeremy’s magister’s letter and hearing his explanation of the Holst’s crimes, the sergeant sends them to the watch captain’s house with an escort. The escort serves to clear the way through a gaggle of petitioners, and the wizard and his scribe are quickly ushered into the commanders presence.

Jeremy shows the Captain his letter of introduction from the Grey College, and explains what happened at the farm. Tristan is questioned briefly by the Commander, and, on Petra’s advice from the previous night, accuses the Holst’s of human sacrifice; the Eigel’s, he claims, merely put out food and strong drink, and only discovered what their neighbours were doing recently. When they objected, his family was attacked and killed.

                                                          

Meanwhile, Grim finds a wanted poster for the group on a wall inside a local pub (‘checking out the town,’ eh?). A drunk, sporting a wide hat, a waxed moustache and an outrageous accent staggers over.

“Short person, what-a does a this-a mean? Short, like ‘im over there?” he gestures towards a tiny, gnarled up man sipping beer in the corner, “Or short like him?’ he points at a man with no legs, a war veteran sat at a nearby table. “Or do they-a mean short like a .... a stuntie?” The drunk looks up and focuses on Grim, taking in his stature. He seems surprised. “Like-a you.”

There is a stunned silence as most of the bar take in Grim’s appearance, the barbaric piercings, the scarred torso, the wild mohican, the staring, bloodshot eyes, the huge axe over his shoulder. There is a general movement away from him at the bar.

Grim turns his gaze upon the drunk. “What,” he spits out between clenched teeth, “did,” he juts his head forward aggressively and widens his eyes, “you,” his hands tighten on the axe, “say?”

The drunk straightens, and sweeps his hat off with a bow “Eh, no offence, compadre. You Northerners, you all-a look-a da same to me.”

There is a moments stunned silence from the dwarf, while the entire bar holds it’s breath, then with a roar of laughter Grim embraces the other man. “Drink, crazy man. Drink with me!”

(Grim was unable to attend this session, so we’d worked out that he would go off and find a bar, and drink himself into oblivion, thus missing the entire episode. He wakes up two days later in Eduardo Rodrigues’ (the drunk) shack on the edge of town with no trousers (WES!), his eyebrows shaved off, and having sworn brotherhood with the Estalian. The two have formed a temporary party and share the ‘Drunken Bums’ trait).

Meanwhile, Wes asks around and is directed to the local weapons shop, looking for a sword. He looks at several blades, well outside his price range, and enquires about bow strings (last session I raised the possibility of a chaos star result snapping his bowstring - he has no spares). Later he strikes up a friendly conversation with the proprietor, who apologizes for the lack of a fire - the coal merchant Florian Wescheler disappeared mysteriously a few weeks ago, and hasn’t been seen since. Wes’s interest is piqued.

Back at the Commander’s office, Jeremy has his official documents stamped and signed by Kapitan Kessler. He notices the ‘Trouser Bandits’ poster, and asks about it (Petra cringing inwardly).

“Pathetic, isn’t it? Bunch of loser low-lives escape from Lachenbad courtroom, and they rushed out these posters,” moans the captain. “Unfortunately, it seems the bloody prosecutor was too clever by half, some kind of a legal mix up about dwarves and short people - course, the posters are taken from the prosecutions submission, so now we don’t know wether were dealing with short people, very short people or dwarves. I’ve asked the roadwardens to get clarification, perhaps get a picture, but that’ll take a week or so.”

Petra makes an unctuous bow to Herr Kessler and hurries Jeremy out of the room. “Was that you?” asks the wizard. “The trouser bandits?” he snorts derisively, then stops suddenly, and staggers, leaning against the wall. He feels uncomfortably ... full.

Petra puts her hand out to steady him, and a blue spark flashes to her arm. “Ouch!” She steps back, fear showing in her eyes. The magician is about to do something scary.

Confused, Jeremy casts around for the source of the magical influx, sensing a greyness in the winds, and spots a pair of green eyes in an alley. They blink and disappear suddenly, and the feeling of fullness is gone.

“What was that?” asks Petra, keeping her distance. The wizards eyes have lost their shadowed look, but she keeps her hand on a dagger. A quick glance shows no-one has noticed the wizard’s strange behaviour.

Jeremy shakes his head, clearing it. “I think that that, my dear, was my cat.”

(At the end of last session, Phil [Jeremy] had asked about the possibility of obtaining a familiar - I’d told him I’d think about it, and he’d had his normal advance. I introduced the cat-familiar as a side story, boosting/over-loading the wizard’s power at opportune moments. Jeremy would have to locate the cat to bond with it. I also loaded the cat with a bunch of action cards that would not be under the wizards control, and fail effects such as “lick arse”, “mad half-hour”, “who, me?” and “gone hunting”. The cat acts as a npc until bonded).

The two wait under the eaves of the captain’s office until Wes appears - the rain is truly sleeting down. Grim, it seems, has disappeared with the town drunk, so the remaining party members discuss their findings - all three suspect a link between the missing coal merchant and the Holst’s sacrifices; they regret not enquiring more deeply into exactly how the farmers got their victims (that’s my crew; stupid). They decide to investigate further, after a nights rest at the Thunderwater Inn.

                                                                                                                      ----------- zzzzzz ----------

 

After a meal, food and a good nights sleep, the three begin their investigation. Jeremy pays, and his purse is considerably lightened. Overnight, Wes has managed to give his cold to Petra (“too much snogging” chortles Jeremy, and pushes up the party stress counter), and neither is at their best, socially speaking. They question the innkeeper about Herr Weschler, the coal-merchant, coughing and spluttering everywhere, and are quickly directed towards the ‘Stewpot hostelry’, a local halfling establishment. After they leave, the barkeep quickly wipes away the snot and spittle on the counter, muttering about ‘filthy wizard’s and their get’.

The ‘Stewpot hostelry’ is a rather empty establishment, cosy but a little dull. The adventurers question the proprietor, one Keila Cobblepot, and she describes the coal-merchant as ‘nice if a bit simple’. He left about a week ago, she says, hitching up his wagon himself and departing in the early hours before she was awake. She seems a little scared of the wizard (not unusual!), and bustles around giving them (free) tea and biscuits.

Suddenly Jeremy reels, and sits down heavily. A ghostly scene overlays his sight, a building, familiar. The Inn! The vision focuses upon an upstairs window - their room! Gently the curtains move, as if someone is brushing against them. Jeremy sits up suddenly, to find the hostelry gone quiet, the room seeming more shadowed than before. Everyone is staring at him with fear. “Quick!’ he shouts, “Someones in our room!”

The three heroes dash out of the building, much to everyone’s relief, and run through the wet, muddy streets back to their Inn. Jeremy, still a little dazed from the vision, manages to fall into the deep mud at the centre of the street, much to the local’s delight (another tension point!). They burst into the Inn and charge up the stairs, past the astonished Innkeeper. A few seconds spent fumbling with their locked door and in they storm.

The room is in disarray, and a window is open, drapes flapping in the breeze. Their few belongings (well, Jeremy’s really) are scattered around the floor. There is a note pinned to the wall with a knife, which Petra manages to hide before the innkeep comes puffing up the stairs.

“A robbery, your honours, it’s terrible. It’s never happened before. Just you let me at them bludgers, I’ll show them a thing or two!” The innkeeper scowls ferociously.

Jeremy, convinced by the man’s passion, begins to apologize. (Gotta love that old gullibility trait!) “Think nothing of it. Could happen to anyone.”

Petra steps in. She’s stayed at many of these places, and knows access to their belongings is available for a few silvers, or with a bent piece of metal. “All our money! Twenty crowns stolen, I should call the watch!”

A considered look crosses the Innkeeper’s face, and he counters by suggesting that they should have carried that much money with them, or he would have locked it away if they asked. The dickering continues, neither side really wanting to call the watch. Eventually they settle on the heroes having a weeks free board and lodging and nothing said to the watch, whilst Jeremy looks on dumb-founded.

“You, you lied!” he stutters after the hostelier leaves. “I didn’t leave any money here.”

Petra considers explaining that the Innkeeper probably opened their door himself, but decides against it. “Yes, but I did.”

Even Jeremy finds this hard to believe. “You left twenty gold crowns in our room. I thought you had no money?”

Thinking fast, Petra continues. “It was payment. The robber was our contact. He left a message.” She pulls out the note she’d hidden and reads aloud ‘the seal is ours. We’ll be in touch’ (S#*@t! - Jeremy looks even more suspicious). More quick thinking. “It’s a code.” She touches her nose. “A secret code.”

(Oh yes, now the local thieves guild is interested, following a message from the assassin Petal in Lachenbad. Good times to come).

After another huge meal, an early lunch (well, it was free!) the three begin their investigation. A chat in the bar reveals that Herr Wescheler, the coal merchant, had bodyguards whom he left behind when he departed early. They hadn’t been paid, and set off the next day towards Ubersreik to remonstrate with him. A long, wet, walk around the walls talking to watchmen, revealed that one of them at the North gate remembers the cart leaving in the early hours some days ago. He didn’t see who was driving, though, as he was here to check what came in; nothing left Stromdorf (except water, he jokes - ha ha).

By this point it’s getting dark, and all three adventurers are tired and soaked to the skin. Jeremy has caught Wes’s cold, and is out of sorts; they decide that tomorrow, the first order of business is getting good wet weather gear, and a drink and a (free) meal sounds attractive.

As they trudge back towards the Thunderwater Inn, Wes, looking at the near perennial storm, notices that there seems to be a focal point of lightning actually in the town. He points it out to the rest of the group (remember, Jeremy, your mission?) and they try to locate it. After more slogging around the sodden streets, they find themselves outside the local temple to Sigmar, which is topped with a large, hammer shaped lightning conductor. Jeremy tries to see the local winds of magic - bright, bright blue, as you would expect when looking at a lightning strike.

Whilst standing outside the temple wondering what to do next, Jeremy feels a faint pull from the east. “This way,” he says abruptly, and leads the others across the market square towards the west gate.

They approach the Stewpot hostelry, when Jeremy gets the strange overfull feeling again. Wes and Petra step back as his eyes start to darken, and his face becomes shrouded in shadow. He stops.

“What’s going on?” asks Wes, concerned.

“Jeremy’s going a bit mad,” answers Petra. “He keeps getting these fits, something about a cat. Comes from being a magic user, they all lose it in the end.” She makes circling signs with her finger at her temple.

Before Petra can expand on her friends incipient madness he interrupts. “That halfling woman, she’s leaving the hostelry. She’s got a pack on her back.” Wes and Petra look around. They’re some distance from the Stewpot, and can’t see anything.

Jeremy continues to stare blankly and mutter to himself. “That’s right, now follow her.” A pause, then he curses suddenly. “Oh arse, she’s getting away.” He looks at the others suddenly. “Didn’t you hear, she’s getting away? Come on!”

A sprint, and the three come upon Keila Cobblepot sneaking down the street. She briefly attempts to bluff her way out of the situation by claiming to be off to see her ill auntie, but not even Jeremy falls for that. The adventurers are far too strong to resist, and she’s dragged off to the captains office, where she quickly confesses to her part in the kidnapping of various solitary visitors to the town, incidentally implicating Tristan Eigel in the crimes. Kapitan Kessler is overjoyed to find the culprit for a number of recent disappearances, and mentions the possibility of a reward and further work - both Wes and Petra become extremely interested, and agree to return in the morning for an update.

And to finish off. Jeremy borrows Wes’s compass, and sets out to try to map lightning hot spots in the dark. Petra returns to the Thunderwater Inn where a group of tipsy card players decide to teach the poor lonely scribe how to play cards; amazingly she wins ten shillings off the table in an outrageous run of luck. Wes heads across town to check on Grim, and, when he finds him passed out in Eduardo Rodrigues’ hovel, carefully removes his trousers.

 

 (This was the episode when I finally decided that if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, and let all their pigeons come home to roost. The thieves guild is on their case, pictures of them from Lachenbad may turn up at any time, and Petra, Grim and Wes are attempting to keep Jeremy in the dark about their criminal natures. Oh yes, and the Emperor’s agent has yet to appear, hard on the trail of a stolen secret Imperial message. I also gave Wes a cold (highly infectious, causes Fellowship -1, recovery difficulty improves by 1 each night). A kind of normal disease that is just very annoying. Bit like the Trouser Bandits).

[Magical sight over use?]

  The way we've been using it is to make it just give a general feel of an area; specialisation might give more detail. As a previous post suggested (old thread), we use a 'colours of magic' wheel with an oversized two-sided token in the centre. On a successful (concealed) magical sight test I push the token towards the predominant colour - failure etc can give no info or false info. Test is at least simple (1d) as there is always the possibility of seeing something scary, and increasing in difficulty according to circumstances; for example, looking in a chaos temple would make it far more likely to see something bothersome, and to be overwhelmed by the rush of magic. Also, why bother, you're standing in a chaos temple.

The whole aim is to keep the test as a background - I only add description when I feel it necessary and let the player interpret the wheel. It also has an element of risk so is not  the players default position.

[How you deal with the death of one of your PC's?]

 Giving them a bonus for how well they died is really important - classical conditioning for the lab rats. Then starting them a bit behind the others (5-10 advances) and giving them double xp 'till they've caught up. Course, my group being what they are, it's a bit negotiable - a good back story or a table wide feeling of sympathy or unfairness gets extras. Oh and bringing nice dips helps too.

 

[Thinking outside the box]

 To be honest, i'm actually really impressed the players even thought of it, though it does show a rather modern scientific approach. I'm guessing it came from the adventure tie I'd worked out (investigating the abnormal storms around Stromdorf). I'd thought using the prepared adventures would in some ways make it all a bit more worked out than the home-made scenario's I'd been using; in fact it is a bit harder, as you don't know the material so well.

Ah well, maintaining the narrative momentum, that's the trick.

[Thinking outside the box]

 This has got to be the best (and the worst!) thing that players do. All of a sudden they think of something plausible that just isn't covered in the session notes and your on a roll, desperately trying to cobble together an explanation or a course of action. For example, TGS, a constant storm going on. One of my players decides to stand outside after dark and plot where the lightning strikes the most. A bit of triangulation and the result is the location of all of the lightning stones!

Anyone else got any examples

[Master of disguise]

 My players have been disguising themselves a lot, and I thought I'd share the rules we've been using. Basically the player choses a career card he or she wishes to mimic. The test is against fellowship, and the difficulty is dependent upon how different the chosen careers traits are from the players actual traits, starting at easy for no difference (eg ratcatcher to dockhand). Extra difficulty die can be added for different races (lots in some cases), tier differences etc. Fortune/misfortune die can be added for such things as appropriate props, background (eg family connection - get that background written up soonest!) etc., as the GM wishes.

Testing is on a daily basis until the false character is established, then in exceptional circumstances only after that (eg disguised as a watchman and trying to enter a watch-house). Guile can be used to add a trained dice.

One of my characters has also been using a home made talent card 'Master of disguise' - this gives an extra trained dice, and an extra fortune dice (if equipped with a disguise kit).

[Elder races night vision - When does it fails?]

 I just see them as having better night vision, like a cat, not the old D&D infra-vision. Stick anyone down a hole with no light at all and they'd better hope to have a torch, or it'll be hands and knees all the way, and getting lost pretty quickly. Add in an enemy that's got a good sense of smell or has some kind of 'detect' magical vision (like undead) and even the most powerful of characters is going to be bleeding before the session is over.

(One of my favourite bits about wfrp is how its all so relative. Your character might be super tough, but let him fall down a hole with no light and the appropriate enemy and he's dog meat. Or even trip a non swimmer into the sea/river/canal and add something swimming with big teeth and there'll be blood aplenty in the water).

[Cheap tickets - after action report]

 Dear C, I resent mildy retarded, these are my friends you are talking about. Severely retarded is the phrase I would use, or perhaps just plain stupid. The interesting thing is that (by dint of surviving) the characters are actually getting good at what they do (look at the slaughter of the innocents in 'a little chop'!). Unfortunately the players themselves are still completely unable to distinguish their arses from there elbows, so it ends up with them bumbling around and making a complete pigs ear of things, but really really well.  Scary.

 

Can't wait to see what your bro does with the stagecoach fight - send him my thanks

Reg

 

PS Just started an obsidian portal thingy, so hope to get all the cards etc made posted there at some point

 

 

[Cheap tickets - after action report]

 Have to admit that my players are particularly good at this kind of thing; (sometimes I think I'm running an am-dram club!). As for playing gullibility, well, if you met Phil ...

[Not waving but drowning]

 P'raps the dwarves of Barak Var all wear the discreet ladies flotation device? (Can you imagine, a big line of dwarven marines on the edge of a sinking ship with their hands in their pockets pumping wildly. That would be an image that would stay with me a long time). 

 Started as a bit of fun, really, making dwarves in my world sink like stones. .Mind you I can't see any self respecting dwarf wearing rubber underwear (unless they are very old or the inventor). They'd just look for a spar of wood, or more likely drown!

[Cheap tickets - after action report]

 A bit of chop (9)

 

 

 Well, after his second successive character death, Phil decides to go for something a little less combat orientated, and picks a Grey wizard apprentice. After he works out his characters backstory, I grant him three extra advances because he looks so glum (and to bribe him into agreeing to the story-line segue I’d worked out). Swim is his first extra skill pick, then ride. Ha!

 

 

Characters

 

Petra Nunce, Reiklander - gambler

Wesley Smitt, Reiklander - scout

Grim Grimmson, Dwarf - trollslayer

Jeremy Dewbender - apprentice grey wizard

 

 

 Jeremy was enjoying his first assignment from the Grey College. True, he was standing on a muddy river bank, with no idea where the nearest town was.True, he was caught in the mother of all storms, and the rain was - literally - bucketing down. True, the local inhabitants had the intellectual prowess of a blunt spade stuck in a rancid cowpat, and seemed a little unsure where (or what) civilization was. But Gods! the pleasure of being away from the lies and deceptions of the big city, the ridiculous deceits and stories of little men. He was free here, the ruler of his own destiny, and would never again be deluded again by his fellows. No longer would he be known as Dewbender the dupe, Dewbender the dumb, he would be Dewbender the Devious! Dewbender the decisive! Dewbender the discerning!

 

 Jeremy’s day-dreams are interrupted when he falls over a young woman lying soaked on the river bank. She rolls onto her side and waves a soggy piece of paper with an impressive looking seal on it at the young wizard. “Imperial agent,” she croaks. “We were ambushed. Help us!”

 

 

 

 Jeremy looked at the young woman. She was wet and exhausted, but otherwise hale. He took the paper from her hand and examined it carefully. The ink on the document she was waving had run, making the writing illegible, but, good grief! the seal looked Imperial. He made a snap judgement about her honesty and saluted. “I am always ready to assist servants of the Emperor, madam. What can I do?” 

 

 (One of the reasons Phil’s new character had extra advances was that he agreed to him suffering from the condition ‘gullible’. When people try to convince Jeremy of something that is pretty obviously nonsense, they roll an extra fortune dice. Add Petra’s winning smile, guile skill and a whole heap of fortune points, and he was putty in their hands).

 

 Once Jeremy had helped the three heroes to his camp-site, got them out of their wet clothes, warmed them by the fire and fed them, the young woman told her tale. They had been hunting a band of chaos cultist for weeks in the nearby town of Lachenbad, and had been on the point of arresting them, when they’d been ambushed by their men. They’d been attacked, and had been forced to flee the town in a leaky rowboat. The ambushers had chased them, but had been lost some distance upstream, not before killing one of their number (the strange looking dwarf had growled something at this, but had been calmed by his companions). However, the leaders of the cult were powerful men, and had convinced the local authorities that they were common criminals, and had even issued arrest warrants for them! It was vital that they conceal their identities from everyone, and lay low until they were ready to tackle the cultists again. She looked deep into his eyes and let her blanket fall a little, exposing bare flesh. Could he help them? (Of course he could!).

 

 The heroes spend a day recovering at Jeremy’s camp site, and the wizard tells them about his mission. It seems that the town of Stromdorf, known as the wettest place in the Empire, has become even wetter. Apparently there has been a storm raging here continuously for over three weeks, and he has been despatched by his masters in the Grey College to investigate. He shows a letter from his college asking for every assistance to be given to Magister Dewbender and his associates in investigating this mystery. 

 

 There is a pause, before Petra inquires, “Your associates?”

 

 Jeremy looks a little concerned. “Yes. I had hired two guides in Altdorf to assist me, but they set out for the town to buy supplies three days ago. I hope they are alright.”

 

 “Erm, these guides, how much money did you give them to buy supplies?” inquired Petra.

 

 “Two crowns. They took my horse in to get it shod as well, so I’m a bit stuck at the moment.They were very good with horses - spotted the loose shoe before I had a clue.”

 

The three imperial agents exchange glances. “I fear for the worst,” says Petra.  

 

 “Not ... dead?”

 

 “Possibly,” speculates the gambler. “Or at least geographically distant. But not to worry, we will assist you. We will replace your unfortunate associates!”

 

 Jeremy thanks them profusely, and the three criminals decide to change their appearance. Petra the gambler ties her hair up in a tight bun, splashes some of the wizards ink on his hands and becomes Frau Friedman, a scribe working for Jeremy. Wesley the Scout shaves off his beard, steals a perky hat from the wizard and becomes - Wesley the scout, another employee of the wizard, (our Wes in not the sharpest tool in the shed). Grim stoutly refuses to change his appearance, (‘It’s not honourable!’) but eventually agrees to be known by a very different name - Grom. Ah well, it’s a start. With luck he may well die soon.

 

 The next morning our intrepid band sets out to find their way to civilization.  Jeremy confidently leads them over a small stream, now in full spate, and follows a rough path which he soon loses. They stand around in a glum huddle, the three ‘agents’ carrying various cases and packs, whilst Jeremy carries nothing; ‘acting the part’ he remarks. 

 

 Suddenly Wes the scout notes a column of smoke to the east. “That’ll be the farm we passed,” says Jeremy. “The Eagles. Terribly smokey chimney.” There is a brief discussion during which the party start to wonder at the amount of smoke, as well as the wizards naivete, before deciding to investigate with caution. They distribute their few weapons - Wes has his bow, Petra has Wes’s dagger and another that Jeremy produces, whilst the Slayer, having lost the scout’s sword in his swimming lesson last episode (‘you’ll have to pay for that’ pipes up Wes), drags a massive branch off a sodden tree. Jeremy seems content with his staff.

 

 The adventurers advance on the smoke, Wes and Petra slipping away to scout ahead, whilst Grim and Jeremy advance up a faint track. “Look at ‘em sneaking around like thieves”, he begins, but then checks himself when he can’t see the wizard. “Or bloody mages!” he finishes. (Both Wes and Petra make successful sneak tests, whilst Jeremy casts Cloak of Shadows upon himself. The three move quietly up to the Eigel’s farmhouse). Grim stomps on muttering bad temperedly, before rounding a corner into what remains of the farm. “Shite," he whispers, tightening his grip on his club. All that’s left are the burnt out shells of a house and a couple of out-buildings. On one section of wall still standing a chaos star is daubed in what might be blood. “Double shite.” A whistle and Wes appears from behind a wall.

 

 “There’s no-one left,” the scout says in a normal voice. He points to tracks on the ground, large and cloven-hooved. “Beastmen. Couple of big ones. The rest smaller. About ten all told, I reckon. He gives the ruins a cursory glance, breaking of a fragment of burnt wood.”Still warm. Happened last night.” (My God, ten out of ten for Wes. He’s getting good!) The heroes gather around, and give the buildings a cursory search for valuables. “Looking for survivors,” Petra assures the wizard when asked. 

 

 Another farm overlooks the ruin, and the group decide to head that way, slogging through mud and low shrub up a low hill. “Funny how they didn’t attack this one,” muses Petra.

 

 Grim laughs. “P’raps they didn’t have enough time, they knew we were coming.”

 

 When they reach the farm, there is a huge argument going on. Two in-bred looking country types are screaming insults, whilst a gaggle of similarly ‘unusual’ types look on. There are squints, twitches and crossed-eyes galore, as well as a little drool. One particularly big and stupid looking country cousin looks on with his mouth open, loosely gripping a massive woodcutters axe in his hands.

 

 (“Jeez, where’s the cajan music?” wonders Phil/Jeremy, and on cue I put on ‘dueling banjos’ - the players get it immediately).

 

 They notice a skinny youth sitting on the porch playing the mandolin very, very well, seemingly oblivious to the fuss around him. Jeremy approaches him for information but is ignored. The other three move nearer to the argument, picking up scraps of argument - ‘your fault’, ‘shouldn’t have stopped’, ‘dead because of you’, ‘sacrifice’. The argument hots up, and Grim rubs his hands together. “Looks like a scrap. Go for it, I bet a shilling on the one with his eyes too close together!”

 

 Wes looks askance at the dwarf. “Both of them have eyes too close together.”

 

 “So I win, what’s the problem? Whiney humans, always complaining.”

 

 Suddenly one of the protagonists pulls a knife. Before anyone else can react, Grim clubs him over the head. “No cheating,” he bellows as the figure crumples. He relieves him of his dagger, which he pockets smartly, then flips him onto his side with a foot. He grins brightly. “Anyone care to tell me what’s this’s all about?”

 

There are a few mutters about Holtz family business and a general shuffling of feet. The dwarf shrugs. “Ah well, fair enough, these things happen in the best of families.” He points at the huge imbecilic figure opposite him. “Changing the subject a little, care to sell the axe?”

 

 Whilst the unconscious figure is dragged away and tied up by a couple of the farmhands, Grim settles to dickering with the idiotic near-giant. He really doesn’t want to sell his axe, and Grim has no money, but he perseveres. “How about a bet?” The giant looks vaguely interested. Grim points at Petra. “How about her? I’ll bet her against your axe. You win and you get a fine bit of girly-flesh to play with. I win, I get your axe. How about it?”

 

 The massive man is practically wetting himself with excitement as Grim calls his companions over. Rather than beating him over the head with his liver as everyone expects, Petra says sadly. “It’s not right to use people as bets. Not right at all. Not unless, well, it’s at cards. Then it's ok.”

 

 The oaf lumbers off into the farmhouse, and returns with a creased pack of deck. He holds them out to Grim. “No, no,” says the dwarf, “you might think I’m cheating you. Let the young girl deal.”

 

 (Suffice it to say that the party swiftly gained a two handed axe, half a wheel of cheese and several large, suggestively shaped root vegetables before the Holtz’s realize that the ‘young girl’ is freakishly lucky. Petra also pockets the cards).

 

 Whilst Petra and Grim are off fleecing the yokels, Wes and Jeremy talk to the leaders of the Holtz clan, Otto and Maria. They ask some hard questions about the burnt out farm below and the Holtz’s apparent safety, and eventually the two admit to leaving ‘gifts’ for the beastmen to prevent them attacking them - the Eigels had stopped their offerings a few weeks ago, hence the reason for the attack. When pressed on the nature of these ‘gifts’, Otto and Maria are a little vague, mentioning beer, livestock and animal skins. Concerned, Wes slips away to question the prisoner about the bribes, but finds him tied up in a barn in a drunken stupor. 

 

 While Wesley is away, the Holtz matriarch settles down to question Jeremy about the group. Remembering the deception they are running, he explains that the group are his hired men, fiercely loyal and obedient to his orders (hah!). After much consideration, Maria suggests that there is someone he ought to meet that evening.

 

 

Foaldeath

 

 After resting in one of the barns until dusk, Otto and Maria Holtz fetch the party for their mysterious meeting. Both carry lanterns, and lead the adventurers away from the farm and into a nearby wood; no birds or animals can be heard, and much of the vegetation appears strangely stunted. As night falls, the guides light their lanterns and steer the party along a faint track between twisted trees. A light rain falls, and the landscape is lit every few minutes by flashes of lightning, throwing the trees into stark highlights. Gradually the party become aware of their destination, a huge tree ahead, festooned with charms, fetishes and animal corpses, brooding and evil. The Holtz’s stop before it, and Maria gestures for a tall cloaked figure to come out.

 

 “A mage,” says Jeremy, sensing magical potential.

 

“My son,” says Maria fondly.

 

“Big,” says Petra, noticing the figures size and breadth. She slips a dagger from her sleeve as a precaution.

 

 “A beastman!” shouts Wes, seeing the creatures cloven feet.

 

 And, “Aarrghh!” from Grim, swinging his axe in a mighty arc into the creatures head, splashing brains and gore everywhere, killing it instantly. 

 

 (And thats it. Troll Feller Strike, Great weapon and a couple of fortune dice for a homicidally sudden attack and it’s all over for Foaldeath. Scenario is comprehensively derailed). 

 

 With a scream, Maria throws herself at the murderous dwarf, lunging at him with her dagger. Petra darts forward, backstabbing the distraught woman, driving her away from Grim to collapse bleeding on the ground (seven wounds and two crits! She’s history). Wes, seeing Otto going for his sword, steps back and fires an arrow point-blank into the farmer’s chest. With no armour and no chance of dodging, the Holtz patriarch is severely wounded, but manages to get his sword out, just in time for Jeremy to pierce him with a flurry of shadowy darts that spring from his fingertips. He slumps dead, next to his dying wife.

 

 The wizard looks around at the corpses in confusion. “What was all that about?”

 

 (I think the players were quite shocked at just how lethal they have become. Before now they’ve always fought soldiers or monsters or been ambushed themselves - a couple of ill-prepared civillians were grist to the mill. Foaldeath should have been more of a challenge, but Grim’s murderous attack put him down in one. Ouch!) 

 

 The four heroes stare at the carnage surrounding them. Maria choses that moment to expire noisily from blood loss, and they look at each other guiltily.

 

 “Now what?” asks Jeremy plaintively. “We’ve just slaughtered an innocent family?”

 

 “Innocent?” says Grim, “innocent? What do you think their ‘gifts’ were? Beer, yes, livestock, perhaps, but I’m guessing at least some of their offerings walked on two legs, at least until they were eaten!”

 

 “Really?” asks Jeremy, “they seemed so wholesome and, well, rural.” (That gullibilty trait has a lot to answer for!).

 

 “If by rural you mean cretinously inbred, then yes, they were the most rural folks I’ve ever met. They were so rural one of their sons was a beastman.”

 

 Eventually they drag the bodies under the great tree (after Grim and Wes check their pockets, of course), then settle down to decide their next move. No-one wants to go back to the Holtz house (what, a conscience?) but unfortunately they are completely lost. They argue for quite some time, drawing sketch maps, and desperately trying to work out how to get to Stromdorf without passing the farm, but as they have no idea where i) they are, ii) they’ve been and iii) they are going, they are a bit stumped. Eventually Petra takes control. 

 

 “Follow me,” she says, heading towards the Holtz’s farm.

 

 “What are we going to do?” asks Jeremy plaintively.

 

“What we always do in these situations,” replies Petra. “Lie a lot and be prepared to run.”

 

 

 Half an hour later two desperadoes stagger into the Holtz’s farmyard, clothing ripped, shouting for help.

 

 “Beastmen, they attacked us!” shouts Petra, panting heavily. “You’re father  and mother tried to hold them off, but there were too many!”

 

 “They killed hundreds trying to save us, the brave fools, but the beasts overpowered them,” adds Wes, hiding his face in his hands. “Why oh why Gods? Why take them? Why take the best of us?”. Petra staggers over to him, and stumbles, placing an arm around his neck for support, coincidently squeezing tight enough to prevent him talking (and breathing).

 

 “Don’t listen to him, he’s delirious with shock, look at his colour.” (Wes is turning blue) “We’ll go and fetch help at once. Quickly, which way is the town?”

 

 A sleep befuddled farmhands points out the direction, and the two survivors stagger out of the farmyard, the scout choking with grief.

 

 Meanwhile Wes and Jeremy sneak into the barn and free the prisoner. He can barely walk, he’s so inebriated, and the two have great difficulty getting him away quietly. They meet the rest of their party a little way down the track to town, and press on through the night, questioning the freed captive as they walk; Tristan Eigel is so drunk they easily get the whole sorry story of the Hotzes and Eigels buying their safety through sacrifices. 

 

 

 

 (Well, another classic cock-up by the rock-steady crew. They really do try to be, well, if not good, at least not completely murderous, but things just don’t seem to work out that way, and the body count is rising. I wonder if they’ve about thought what’s going to happen to the Holtz’s when the beastmen find their shaman dead, with Maria and Otto next to him? Nothing good, I feel.

 

 

 

 

 

 One thing I didn't mention, in deference to keeping the narrative going, is that whilst the Trouser Bandits were arguing about which way to go, Wes noticed that the lightning from the constant storms was concentrated in two places. [Three really but tht's the way the die rolls]. He took bearings with the compass from the stolen Bawaaghometer and now has a lead on the lightning stones. Way to go Wes!)