Got my players to draw themselves a map of the world as they know it - no books etc used, and then got them to use it for planning their routes etc. They actually update it with npc's they meet, adding details (not always correctly!) and it adds quite a bit to the game play They have a compass, and now think they know where they are, (the fools) and how to get places. I can't wait for them to try to go 'off-road' Heres hoping the map below publishes. (How on earth do you get it to work?)

Dear C, love the card. However, you are obviously referring to the Mk I Flotsamtraculators. The Mk II's (or ladies Flotsamtraculators) are 'a number of flattened rubber hoops sewn onto a pair of leather underpants. There is an abundance of straps and shiny buckles, and each ring has a small pipe expertly attached, which extend to a wide belt that features a small metal flute shaped buckle attached to a pocket watch'.* However, where the Mk II's differ is that they are designed to be worn discreetly under the trousers, much like a suspender belt. They can be easily inflated by repeated pumping of an air reservoir concealed in the lining of the trouser pocket and allow the wearer to float effortlessly on all bodies of water. Though less advantageous in waterborn combat than the Mk !'s due to their lower flotational position (around thigh height as opposed to calf), they are nevertheless a vital component in the wardrobe of a well equipped dwarven adventurer. ( Unfortunately, the Mk II's cannot be worn whilst on horseback, necessitating removal of said garment before mounting). *Much like the mark I's I will endeavour to make a card for this useful item, as well as the "Bawaaghometer'. Unfortunately Strange Eons is a little behind for the mac as opposed to pc version.

Callidon, I love the idea of dwarven water-wings, so un-dwarvish and open to abusive language. There would have to be a suitably culturally-sensitve name for them - aqua ambulatos ? Natans ambulus ? Are there any Runesmiths out there who might design some suitably impressive floaties for a dwarf (in leather of course)

Questions - 1. are there any rules for swimming; I mean as far as I'm concerned either you can swim or you can't (in which case you start drowning). 2. How, exactly do you drown (in game terms) 3. Can dwarves swim (or even float) I made swimming a pretty rare skill, and falling into water (especially in armour) without the skill deadly [see 'Cheap Tickets'] especially for dwarves. What do you think?

I wouldn't worry too much about moving things around, if the players want to turn it all rogue-y, murderous and cash based, they'll do it, just give them their heads. My heroes took The Gathering Storm (surely a reasonably straightforward battle with evil) and stood it on it's end with very little difficulty for them (- it's like their one socketable group super power 'f@#k it all up'). They conned the mentally defective farmers, murdered their son, tried to sell the lightning stones, ran away a lot - I wont go any further as I'm in the middle of writing it all up, but don't be surprised if there is a big hole in the ground where Stromdorf used to be.

Thirded resoundingly

Characters are all a bit incestuous - Grimmer is Grim's brother, and the reason Grim became a slayer. He was played by Phil, who created Grimmer after Grim's (apparent) death. Phil's real brother then joined the group and took over/resurrected Grim, much to Phil's disgust and some inter-group tension. I won't go into the relationships between the rest of the crew. (Shudder). (After Grimmers death I was desperately sucking up to him after finding a definite paucity in rules for swimming/drowning, especially for dwarves (are there any?). Oops, may have been a bit harsh there, but what a great ending).

Must admit my first thought was it was a huge tax dodge, like one of the nobles (not-so) super secret superannuation fund, or maybe a weird Imperial grant. You're right though, a bit of a fudge with different names for rivers when speaking to locals, similar sounding towns etc and my players could be really lost

These are great ideas. I've always run my campaign kind of loose and dirty, with discussion amongst players helping to sway how things go - you know, 'I dont think a dwarf could outrun a wolf', or "seducing that waitress whilst riding past on a horse is fast even for you," but with extra's for good roleplaying, silly voices and chocolate biscuits. However, a new players joined a while ago, and while he's great at the roleplaying, he seems to want a bit more structure in things, so I'm going to adopt these rules pretty much wholesale. Thanks!

Been using Gitzman's maps to run my campaign (Cheap Tickets), and I'm just writing up the move from home-grown scenario to The Gathering Storm. Only problem is that the 3e maps seem to leave out loads of things; in fact the whole town of Lachenbad where my players had been living (and dying) for some time! Luckily my players are not that interested in the wider world, but I'm wondering if others have similar problems with using stuff from other editions, and how they get round it.

Thanks. I must admit to feeling a bit bad about the death - we'd all agreed in a jokey kind of way that dwarves couldn't swim, so you'd better not fall in, ho ho. Then Grimmer goes and bangs his head, and I realised that he'd just go straight down. Not a very heroic death at all.

Great reports. In the end I find the incidental stuff, the mistakes, the bickering the best thing about wfrp. I mean, you kill one greater demon of Khorne, you've killed 'em all, but when a smelly-oik ratcatchers dog piddles on your best riding boots, it's gonna stick. Keep it up.

It's not all about them I once got so bored with a stock npc 'nobody' that I gave him a stroke in the middle of a conversation. Players didn't know wether he's been poisoned, touched by the Gods or was mad. Completely threw the entire session out of kilter, what with the watch being called and everything, and needed lots of ad-libbing, but was definitely not boring. I think it's important to let the characters realise that the world goes on without them. Every now and then add a random factor - start an npc domestic in the middle of the conversation; send them off to the toilet and don't bring them back; get bitten by a dog; find the pc's just oh so boring; be too busy to talk to them; fart noisily. (That being said, when my players start to investigate something I practically spoon feed them it's so rare!)

Think I agree with gallows, I'd never really let people know. I might let them be told stuff by npc's etc, but never as GM - I like the option of being able to change my mind; I don't think the whole magic/Gods thing has to appear completely rational, just kind of hang together loosely (look at the apparent quantum/macro paradox in the real world). On a side note, have you noticed how little stuff actually stays in your players heads after a couple of sessions? I'm constantly reminding my players about stuff they've done. Perhaps it's just my group, but I reckon I could tell them that the god Khorne was an anthromorphization of blue cheese and they'd be merrily eating Stilton only two weeks later

Here comes the judge (8) In the next episode, the heroes are brought to trial. The court scene was played without the benefit of the Slaneesh expansion, so I used cards such as ‘Intimidate’ and ‘Charm’ as lawyer specific action cards (renamed as ‘Browbeat’ and ‘Bellow’ etc). The lawyer also counted as trained in these actions when used in court. I also gave bonuses/penalties for questioning individuals of a different social class (the lawyer and judge were silver tier). As you might guess, the cards were heavily stacked against the defendants. So what’s new? Characters Petra Nunce, Reiklander - gambler Grimmer Grimmson, Dwarf - mercenary Wesley Smitt, Reiklander - scout Grim Grimmson, Dwarf - trollslayer “So you saw these three ... desperado’s ... enter Frieda Karlsberg’s room and stab her to death?” “No sir,” whispered the maid, in a lower class accent. “What? Why not? Are you blind?” The young woman muttered something. “What?” bellowed the prosecutor, towering over her. “Speak up. Are you stupid as well as ignorant?” The young woman was trying hard not to weep. When she spoke her accent was even stronger. “Well sur, there was only one dwarf that entered the house, sur. There be two dwarves there.” “Hmmm,” murmured the lawyer. He raised a piece of paper and read from it in a fake accent. “I saw a tottie, a short bloke and a crazy looking stuntie burst out of ‘er ladyships rooms ...” He paused briefly and peered at the terrified young woman over his half moon glasses. “You are aware, of course, of the penalty for voicing gratuitous insults to the Khazalid allies of our glorious Empire?” His voice lowered and became more threatening, “said penalty not to exceed five shillings, ten lashes of the whip, and possible branding of the face?” He simpered, and produced a sickening smile. “Such a pity to mar those pretty features.” The maid was hiding her face in her skirts and sobbing with fear. “No sur, no! I didn’t ...” The prosecutor interrupted her weeping. “Now, if by stuntie you meant ‘a short person of whatever race’ then of course you would no longer be indulging in a racial slur, merely pointing out a salient physiological detail.” The maid was nodding enthusiastically now, though it was uncertain she had understood the lawyers interjection. Herr Snodgren pointed dramatically at the heroes in the dock and his voice boomed out. “So you saw this woman and these two short people burst out of Frieda Karlsberg’s room after stabbing her to death ...” “Yes sur, yes! That’s it! It was them. They did ‘er in! They kilt ‘er ladyship!” shouted the maid enthusiastically. There were gasps from the jury. “No further questions.” After their glorious battle with the greenskins, the four heroes are escorted back to the entrance of the mine by the dwarves. There’s a brief moment of worry when Wes hears the splatting sound of a heavy round body approaching, but one of the Ironbreakers whips out a horn and blows it loudly, and the creature hops away quickly. Once out of the tunnels, our band of heroes stand around blinking in the early morning sunlight. All four are tired and, despite the doctoring and travel food provided by the dwarves, far from their best. Grim in particular is dead on his feet, carrying wounds from the fight and scars from being chained, half-dead, to the goblins standard for several weeks. One eye appears permanently closed, and it’s doubtful he would ever regain the sight in that eye. Fearing for the dwarf, Petra and Grimmer assist him to walk to where they’d hidden the horses, while Wes takes his bow and sets off to hunt for game. When Grim, Petra and Grimmer arrive at their camp, they’re instantly surrounded by crossbow armed Roadwardens. There is a moment when they consider making a fight of it, but are stopped by Grimmer. “I told you we should have gone WESt!” “I forgot me WESkit,” responds Grim. “You’re all just WEStling in the dark,” adds Petra with a groan. The leader of the Roadwardens looks hard at our three conquerors. “Alright, they’re obviously up to something. Take their weapons, tie ‘em up tight and you three, go and search for anyone else who might be about.” There’s a moments dismay from the heroes (what, are the Roadwardens complete idiots?), but it’s quickly stemmed by one of their captors pulling out a wanted poster and holding it up to the three captives. His lips move as he reads slowly, “The trouser bandits,” (Yes! shouts Janey [Wes] fame at last! See attachment), he holds up the paper. “It shows one woman,” he nods at Petra, “ a stuntie,” (Grimmer), “ and a man.” He looks critically at the Trollslayer. “He’s a bit short.” “I was standing on a box,” responds Grim with a smile. “Forget that, it says three and we’ve got three. Double time out of here then,” orders the leader. “Just in case there’s any goblins about.” By the time Wesley reached the campsite it was all over. The horses were gone, as well as his companions. A quick glance at the tracks revealed the whole story - capture by six or seven presumably armed, enemies, then a quick departure on horseback. Wes was left with a difficult decision - follow immediately or rest and then follow later in the day. Not too difficult a decision; he knew where they were going, and was unsure he could follow the horses at any speed. He lay down for a blessed rest and was soon unconscious. Meanwhile Grim and co. were being escorted back to Lachenbad. On the ride Petra attempted to bribe her captors to no avail, whilst Grimmer’s attempt at Intimidating his captors led to him being gagged for a period. Grim, swaying badly in the saddle, settled for staying on his mount (he’s the only one without the ‘ride’ skill now). A full days ride and they’re back in Lachenbad - a session with the town doctor, and then they are locked up in the cells awaiting trial for murder, banditry and stealing men’s trousers. Imprisoned Whilst in prison, the three unfortunates meet a variety of interesting characters. Josef Karlsberg drops by for the customary gloat and psychopathic chuckle. Bingle, the town drunk, is in the cell opposite, and the players spend an inordinate amount of time questioning him, thinking he must be some clever plot device to enable them to escape. (No, he’s just a sad drunk). The court approved defender visits them, complete with receding chin, askew eyes and protruding teeth. He confides in them that ‘Unc will take it easy on them as it’s my first trial’; ‘Unc’ being the hired-gun prosecutor brought in from Ubersreik. There is a little brutality when their jailors try to search them for contraband (i.e. anything worth stealing). A brief scuffle in which the chief guard loses some teeth and they’re left on their own, on reduced rations. On the plus side the four days they spend in prison allows them to recover somewhat from the rigors of their adventures. I must admit I hate it when my players split up. Trying to keep everyone interested whilst only half of them are doing anything is a pain, and trying to keep them from passing information they shouldn’t is almost impossible. To overcome this, I had Wes tell me roughly what he was going to do when he got into Lachenbad, and I prepared a written summary of what he found out during the trial (see below). Wes’s plan 1. Speak to Petal (the assassin) about help with a jail break. whilst willing to help the heroes to evade the law, Petal and his underworld cronies are unwilling to arrange anything as obvious as an escape. He arranges for a boat to be moored at the ‘Bad boy bridge’, just in case. The price for this assistance is the coded Imperial message complete with Imperial seal. (Remember this, from the very first session?) Talk to Herr Karlsberg, preferably in a violent and terminal manner.Not a chance. Josef Karlsberg has hired three huge bodyguards who accompany him at all times. Try to find evidence of Josef’s involvement in the goblin attacks.A break in at the Karlsberg shipping warehouse reveals a secret panel in one of the walls, just big enough for a set of ledger books. Unfortunately there are no books, but you do find a bill of lading for delivery of several crates of weapons to a holding warehouse in Lachenbad - no end user is specified. Not conclusive proof, but suggestive. A drunken chat with a clerk from the local counting house reveals that far from being bankrupt, Josef Karlsberg was depositing coin regularly, often in older or rarer types of coin and in poor condition. Try to sneak in to see the others, dressed as a woman (why?) and give them the evidence you’ve uncovered. -No, no, no. The owner of the dress shop calls the town watch, and you are cautioned for possible lewd and unnatural behaviour. You give a false name (Herr Hipplestippen - where did that come from?) and have to spend the rest of your time in town in hiding, lisping and pretending to have a limp; the town guard have you down as a bit of an out-of-town pervert. After reading this, Wes decides to try to enter the court as an onlooker. He stashes his bow and backpack in an alley in the early hours of the trial day, and, somehow, manages to enter the court in his Herr Hippelstippen persona (many, many misfortune die, but pluses from lurching around lisping in my front room scrapes him by). He’s in, but the guard has orders to ‘keep an eye on the old perv.’ The trial Before the trial began, the players decided to dismiss their defendant and let Petra do the job. A benefit of this is that it means she will be unchained whilst in the courtroom. The other two will have wrist irons. I then let the players chose four salient points for their defence, these are:- There are two dwarves in the party, whilst the witnesses only saw one. No-one saw them kill Frieda Karlsberg. The motive for the crime was that Herr Karlsberg was having his own wagons robbed to supply the goblins with weapons to attack the town. They stopped the coach because they were looking for the real murderer, Josef Karlsberg. I made a 12 step tracker for the jury, starting it at step 8 (+1 for the higher social class of Josef Karlsberg and +1 for there being non-humans in the dock - no assumption of innocence in the Empire); movement of the tracker depends upon results of the social conflict rolls for the above points. If the trial ends with the jury at step 2 or below then the defendants are innocent; step 11+ indicates guilt. Any other result indicates a hung jury and it’s down to a simple roll off between the lawyers, with fortune/misfortune modifiers based upon wether the jury is pro- or anti- them (6 or less pro,7 or more anti). The trial began quite badly for the players, with their point that the maid only saw one dwarf in the party, not two, being completely dismissed on the grounds that the witness was using the term dwarf and short person interchangeably. (See dialogue at beginning - the prosecutor used both ‘Browbeat’ and ‘Bellow’ to persuade the maid to change her story, moving the tracker a massive three steps). On the point that no-one actually saw them kill Frieda, the prosecutor points out that the maid actually accused them of the murder here in this court under oath! As this is the big one, Petra pulls out all the stops, ranting and raving about justice for all and how the poor witness had been bullied by an upper class brute (Petra throwing in all the fate points available and one of her two social action cards). Unexpectedly, the lawyer asks for the whole question of wether they were seen to be thrown out on an obscure point of law (custom made card - ‘Technicality’). He succeeds and gets the point ruled sub-judice. (No movement of the tracker, and all those fortune points wasted!). Moving on to the motive for the murders, Petra wonders what would cause three poor, misunderstood war heroes (Pitiful expressions from the two dwarves add a fortune dice) to slay an unknown woman? However, if the murderer was someone else ... she points at Josef Karlsberg, and raises the question of his weapons shipments, and who they were meant for. Lots of gasps from the crowd when the gambler raises the spectre of crazed greenskins pillaging the town, ******, burning and killing their children, (Petra is really getting the hang of things here!). The prosecutor counters with the question of evidence. (A snort from Petra). Have they got any? Anything at all? (custom card - ‘Ridicule’). The indignant crowd starts to waver, and the jury looks less and less convinced. Suddenly Wes has a brilliant idea. He can’t leap to his feet and present the bill of lading, but he might be able to ... (uh oh). He slips out of the courtroom after giving Petra a thumbs up, runs across the street to where he’s stashed his bow (easy test - no-one has nicked it). Tying the bill of lading to an arrow, he pulls back the bowstring and aims at the dirty window of the courtroom. (At this point I stop the session for a brief word with Wes out of the room. For an archer of his skill, hitting the window is not difficult. However, he can’t see through the glass, so what with ricochets, where it goes after hitting the window is anybodies guess. We discuss it briefly, and decide to allow an easy test for success, but add four skill die and four difficulty die - chaos and comet will cancel each other out, but any outstanding results will decide where the arrow goes). Back to the courtroom, and the prosecutor is pouring scorn on Petra’s fantastical ideas, to much sniggering from the crowd. There is the sound of breaking glass and a scream, and a member of the jury stands up, an arrow piercing their arm. Pandemonium ensues as everyone dives for cover under benches and desks. “Come on!” screams Grim, clubbing down one of the guards and recovering their sword. Grimmer follows suit, unleashing a mighty head butt that lays his guard out cold. “Oh feck!” mutters Petra. The entire prosecution team is hiding under the benches, so it’s a simple matter to run across the courtroom, gather up the judges ceremonial hammer and attack the guard at the door. Unfortunately this is not the hoped-for success, and the guard parries her attack, before counter-attacking and scoring a wicked hit on her side (six wounds, but no critical). With a yell, Grim and his brother appear behind Petra. The guard, seeing his doom approaching, drops his sword and runs away from the courthouse door, screaming. Laughing madly, the two dwarves pick up Petra between them and burst through the doorway into the street. Surprisingly, the gambler retains her cool, and screams, “Goblins! A goblin attack in the court!” Two nearby watchmen instantly rush past the desperadoes into the court, and Grimmer slams the door after them, wedging it shut with his stolen sword. Wes appears in the alley opposite, grinning sheepishly. “Where next?” shouts Petra. He gestures vaguely. “Bad boy bridge. We’ve got a boat waiting.” The four deperadoes head rapidly west towards the bridge, screaming “Goblin attack!” at everyone in the street. As Wes distributes his weapons on the run, there is the sound of breaking wood behind them and the courthouse door bursts open. Scarcely breaking stride, Wes spins and plants an arrow next to the door, and everyone pulls their heads in. In a few short minutes the bridge is in sight. By this time Petra is needing to be supported by Grim, clutching her wounded side. Behind them, a motley collection of guards and incensed citizens follow just out of bowshot. “How do we get down to the boat?” asks Grim, as they reach the bridge. The deck of the bridge is some thirty feet above the surging river Lach, and there’s no obvious way down. “More to the point, where is the fecking boat?” asks Petra. A crossbow bolt fired from behind skitters along the ground at their feet. Wes plants an arrow in a nearby house to discourage their attackers. No boat can be seen. “It must be under the bridge,” says Wes. “Has anyone got a rope?” Everyone looks at him with amazement. “OK, can anyone swim?” “Don’t look at me,” mutters Grimmer. “I’m a dwarf. Son of stone and all that. Sink like a brick.” Grim nods in agreement. “How about you?” He asks Petra. “Er yes, but in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a big cut ...” This is as far as she gets before the two brothers pick her up and throw her over the side of the bridge. “Arrrrgghhh!” followed by a big splash. Grim looks over the side of the bridge. “Well, is it there?” No reply. By this time the heroes are getting a little worried. The angry crowd behind is getting ready to charge, and another bolt sparks off the bridges stonework. There is the sound of cursing from below. “Come on,” yells Petra, “Jump!” “Let the boat out a bit so I can jump into it!” shouts Grimmer. “Don’t be bloody stupid, you’ll go through it! Remember, you’re a dwarven brick!” (only it dosn’t sound like brick). Wes slings his bow over his shoulder and jumps. A splash, a pause, then the sound of someone thrashing about in the water. Cursing, then Wes’s voice floats up. “Come on in, the waters nice!” With a roar, the crowd charges. “You hold ‘em off and I’ll circle behind!” shouts Grim, vaulting over the wall of the bridge. “Keep me covered, I’ll cut them off at the pass!” replies Grimmer, leaping into the river. And then, another one of those darkly iconic moments in WFRP. Grim passes his hard athletics test for the jump, and is dragged cursing into the boat by Petra and Wes. Grimmer fails badly (a chaos star and a skull) and clips his head against the bridge. Being the proverbial dwarven brick, he goes straight underwater without a sound, no flailing of arms, no shouting. When the other three look up, he’s gone, without a trace to mark his passing. There follows a frantic period when Grim, Petra and Wes flail around under the water with their hands and anything else they can get their hands on, but to no avail. After three rounds I pronounce Grimmer well and truly dead. The face eating psychopath is no more. Epilogue The survivors cut the mooring rope on the boat and are transported rapidly downstream towards Stromdorf (and TGS). There are a few crossbow bolts, but no-one is hit; they also avoid turning the boat over on rocks. Grim is overcome with grief and strengthens his Slayer vow. Wes is at a loss without his closest friend and brain. Petra, whilst sorry at the dwarf’s death, can’t help thinking the world (and the party) might be a safer place without Grimmer’s psychotic approach to the world. Well, that was a bit of a surprise. After escaping the long arm of the law in an episode full of humour and fun, Grimmer dies after jumping off a bridge. To say we were devastated is an understatement - Grim and co. just couldn’t believe it, from farce to tragedy in a second. Just goes to show, the warhammer world is an arbitrary and unkind place. Tot up another player death to the GM.

Maps ? Here finally is the map of the Cheap Tickets scenario. OMG the effort to get it to appear - convert it to JPG in gimp then import. Painful.

I must admit that I've played both home made and commercial scenarios, and every single time my players have gone off at a tangent. No matter how much (or little) prep I do, they always end up in the wrong place, or focus on the wrong person/place/object. In fact some of our best sessions have been when the whole thing has been made up on the run! Nowadays I make post-it notes on major npc's, enemies and places, and (I can't stress this too much) don't explain things too much. Honestly, if I forget something and there's a glaring fault in motive or story, my players will think it's super important and make up some complete nonsense to explain it! I also expect them to track recharge, skills etc - if they forget it's their problem. I'm lucky in that my players seem to enjoy the role play more than anything else, (especially the bickering!) and seem to forget many of the rules between sessions. I'm quite happy to give out extra dice, 'instant' recharges and million-to-one chances (that succeed scarily often) for good ideas, dramatic presentation and plain silliness. I also allow quite a lot of negotiation by players, and find it's often the other players who are harder on each other than me. That said, I think if any of my players were a little more competitive, winging it would be waaaaay harder.

Not to boast, but I did once spill a can of coke on a players jumper. Boy, was he pissed!

Quite right. I gave my players an orc with action cards* and he nearly killed all them all, the wimps. They really didn't like fighting someone who could put them down with one blow. Reg *(and inch thick armour, extra toughness, wounds and strength. Oh, and +2 fortune die due to being at the focus of a Waaagh! And two weapons. And the players were already injured. Not stacking the deck, though)

Back from the dead (7) It was the biggest orc any of them had ever seen. Fully eight foot tall if an inch, and almost as broad across. It’s piggy red eyes were almost lost in the scar tissue that was it’s face, and it’s lower teeth were so long they had cut grooves the length of it’s cheeks. It’s body was covered in heavy iron plates at least an inch thick, held in place by chains, and, what seemed in some places to be rivets sunk directly into it’s flesh. One arm held a massive battle axe so sharp it hurt the eye to see, the other held a huge club wrenched from a tree, blackened with age and encrusted blood. The monster lifted it’s head and sniffed the air as if scenting them. It turned to face them, stretching it’s impossibly long arms sideways, faint green after-images of power trailing from its weapons, then grinned. “KILL!” Characters Petra Nunce, Reiklander - gambler Grimmer Grimmson, Dwarf - mercenary Wesley Smitt, Reiklander - scout At last! I have my party exactly where I want them. I know what they’re going to do next, and can (for once), plan on surprising them. We’ve got a fourth player joining the group, very confusingly he’s the brother of Phil, who plays Grimmer; he’s played before, and wants to play a more advanced character, so I’m aiming on introducing him about halfway through the session - until then he’s commanding the Ironbreakers. (Note: this episode is very combat heavy, and as well as the WFRP rules I used a modified set of WFB rules for the Ironbreakers and quite a lot of winging it. I suspect I may have made a few errors with the combats, but it all worked out so extra-ordinarily well that I can live with that). Around dawn the next day, Wesley woke the others. “I think it’s time,” he said pointing to where Goldtooth could be seen waving to them. When Wes waved back, the dwarf crept back into the bushes. The goblin-riot was still going strong, and the scout led his two companions along the tree line to a point almost opposite where the Ironbreakers were. He slid his head carefully out of the bushes and pointed towards the rear of the mass of greenskins. “There,” he said, pointing to a figure hanging from a wooden cross. “I think the bodies chained on or something.” He looked carefully at the corpses surroundings. “Only a couple of goblins; there might be more behind that boulder.” He indicated a large grey shape at the base of the cross. “That’s strange ... “ he began, but was cut off by a loud explosion. A black projectile flew from the dwarves position, trailing smoke, landing amongst the rioting goblins. A moments stillness, everyone holding their breath, then an eruption of flame and bodies flew everywhere. “Oh yes!” muttered Grimmer, punching the sky. A horn sounded and a volley of crossbow bolts hit the goblins standing stunned by the explosion. A second horn note, and, with a great roar, forty or so heavily armoured dwarves charged down the hillside, plunging into the disorganized greenskins and cutting them down where they stood. After the initial shock of the attack, the goblins began to move towards the dwarves. More shells hit them, throwing bodies everywhere, but the horde kept moving, closing on the Ironbreakers in a screaming mass. A faint nimbus of power began to appear around one or two members of the mob. “Come on!” screamed Grimmer, bursting out of the bushes towards a couple of goblins who were standing around Grim’s corpse. Wesley, taking his time, fires his longbow, striking one of them in the back (accurate shot - Wes throws in two stress points and scores a massive nine wounds). Petra, having only a short ranged pistol, realizes that Grimmer’s suggestion that she stay back in the bushes and shoot whilst he attacks is not going to work. Screaming “Feeeeeck,” she charges out after the dwarf, stopping at close range to the wounded goblin, easily despatching him with a shot to the head (one extra fortune dice as he’s injured). Grimmer, bypassing the dead goblin, slams into his companion, but misses with a mighty strike, driving his axe deep into the ground, and slipping to one knee. Oh yes, this is what we want, disasters on round one! Grimmer and Petra are burning up fatigue to get close, and I give all three players initiative due to surprise. They use it well, Petra and Wes putting one of their foes down immediately. Grimmer, the melee specialist, throws a chaos star, and is down, hopefully not for the count. Two goblins attack Grimmer, and one hits him in the side. The dwarves high toughness and his heavy armour dulls the strike (only two wounds) which he shrugs off, climbing to his feet. An arrow flies over his shoulder, wounding one of his foes, and a pistol ball whips past, missing everyone. Grimmer strikes the wounded greenskin a deadly blow (10 wounds and he’s gone!), but takes another blow from his second foe (another two wounds), who seems remarkably staunch for a goblin (the effect of the Waagh!). Meanwhile the Ironbreakers are not having it all their own way. Though the goblins are dying in droves, they keep throwing themselves forward, dragging their heavily armoured foes down. Arrows and spears are starting to fly from the goblins ranks, targeting the mortar, and a couple of the goblin magic users seem to be ‘charging up’ for an attack. Both Wesley and Petra hit with their shots, and the final goblin flies back, green fluid leaking from its pierced body. Grimmer steps over the corpse and starts to move towards the body of his brother, waving at Petra to watch out for more goblins. Then the boulder next to Grim’s body moves. It unbends and throws back a grey cloak, before stretching upwards, six, seven, eight feet. It’s an orc. A very big orc. A very very big orc. “Holy mother of God,” breathes Petra, “I’m not fighting that until I hear it talk!” (An old Spike Milligan joke, but we all got it). Grimmer swallows. “The bigger they are ... “ “The quicker they bloody kill you,” mutters Wes. The orc opens its arms wide and lets out a terrifying roar. An arrow strikes it in the middle of the chest, rapidly followed by another. (“Not very sporting, I know,” says Wes with a shrug, then looks on in disbelief as the orcs massive armour and toughness reduces it to two single wounds!). A gunshot, and a pistol ball strikes the giant creature, again with negligible effect (again only one wound). “Aaaargh!” screams Grimmer, ever the one for a pithy rejoinder, and slams his axe into the creature, splitting one of the iron scales (a wound and a critical! Go the team!). In response the orc lashes out with both weapons. Grimmer attempts to parry, but fails and is flung back wounded and bleeding (double strike, Grimmer is now on zero wounds and has another critical! I have a bad feeling; perhaps the two brothers will meet sooner than expected. Note the orc is adding two fortune die due to the effects of the Waagh!). Wesley hits again with his longbow, his arrow piercing the orc deeply (another crit!). Petra, realizing that Grimmer needs help, moves in behind the orc and attempts to backstab him, but fails to properly penetrate the beasts thick armour (only 1 wound - Petra was cleverly trying to use the backstab cards ‘ignore armour’ effect but failed). Grimmer, shaking his head to clear it, charges the creature with his shield, attempting to knock it over but fails, rebounding from the creatures great bulk (scores only one wound). Faster than anyone would have thought possible, the beast turns and strikes out at Petra with a huge, death-dealing blow. By some fluke she manages to half parry the blow but is badly hurt (7 wounds!) - the gamblers light armour is no match for the orcs great strength (initially the orc scored a massive three crits as well as the wounds, and it looked like curtains for Petra. A hasty examination of her cards came up with her gamblers re-roll skill, and reduced it to a normal hit and one critical.) Over at the Ironbreakers, things are going from bad to worse. A brief burst of laughter when one of the goblin shaman’s heads explodes is cut off when the other conjures a huge green foot that stomps the mortar flat. Orcs start to appear amongst the goblins and, as more dwarves fall, both ends of the line of warriors start to curve inwards as the greenskins begin to envelop them. There is a brief moment whilst the three heroes pant, swear and bleed. Strangely, the creature seems unwilling to step away from the corpse-standard to attack, waving his weapons threateningly. Again Wesley fires, but misses for the first time this combat. Grimmer, realizing the end may be near, attacks again, striking the creature hard, but again most of the force of the blow is absorbed by the massive armour (throwing in fortune points, the ‘mercenary’ attribute and describing a particularly devious reverse attack for an extra fortune dice - still only 1 wound). Simultaneously, Petra attacks from the side, slipping in to slice her sword under the orcs helm, clearly hurting him. (Nimble strike, plus the Reiklander’s ‘favoured by fate’ fortune throw, plus fortune points - 1 wound, plus a critical plus the orc gains the staggered condition. Go girl!). Time stands still as the great orc raises his weapons to attack (I force a break for a drink. How the players hated it!). Suddenly there is a splintering sound and a length of chain appears around the creatures throat, wrapping tight. A crazed face appeared over the orcs shoulder, screaming “DIE! DIE! DIE!” “Holy s#@t!” says Wes. “It’s Grim!” (Oh yes, the man (sic) with no fear and very little brain is back - Not Dead, Merely Sleeping. Grim makes a difficult ‘perform a stunt action’ to whip the chain around the orcs neck whilst hanging from the cross; he too is adding two fortune die for the effects of the Waaagh!, plus fortune points, kitchen sink etc. I rule the throttling effect of the chain is dealing three wounds per turn to the orc - much better than the others have been doing!) Seemingly oblivious of the Slayer hanging from his neck, the orc strikes out at Grimmer, attempting to finish him. The mercenary, realizing his perilous state, attempts to block the blow with both his axe and shield, and manages to avoid any damage as the greenskin is pulled to a stop by Grim, who’s legs are still attached to the standard by heavy chains! (Grimmer throws in parry and improved block, whilst the orc gains two black die from Grim still being attached to the cross. Grim gains two wounds on account of his legs almost being pulled out of their sockets - when he complains I suggest he can just let go. He declines). Grimmer unleashes a crushing counterblow, hurting the creature (one wound and one crit), whilst both Petra and Wesley fire their ranged weapons, Wes managing to find a gap in the orcs armour. Grim hangs on, slowly choking the life out of the great beast, but still it will not die! Meanwhile, Goldtooth’s brave band are surrounded by greenskins. The mortar is destroyed, their crossbowmen are scattered and the surviving shaman has whipped the Waaagh into a berserk frenzy. The dwarves prepare to sell their lives dearly. Finally realizing that it is the slayer that is killing it, the orc throws itself backwards against the standard, the wooden upright breaking, and landing on Grim. This frees Grim’s feet but forces him to release his foe. Before the orc can move, Grimmer leaps forward, unleashing a thunderous blow that shatters the beasts skull, and it expires messily. Silence, as the heroes look at each other, then a voice comes from under the monster. “Excuse me, but do you know there’s an orc on my chest?” Petra coughs. “You hum it son, I’ll play it.” With the death of their leader, the goblins panicked and fled. The shaman, cut off from the power of his fellows also turned tail and ran away. A few orcs continued to fight, but were butchered where they stood. Victory! Postscript The four heroes were sitting in the tunnels of the underway, wounds dressed and full of wine and good food (Goldtooth had offered Petra more sausage but she’d declined). The dwarves had sworn eternal brotherhood with them all, and they were all lying around small braziers they’d set up to cook on, singing very bad songs. Grim and Grimmer were pointedly ignoring each other; some peculiarly dwarvish family sulking thing the two humans guessed. Bored with the brooding dwarves, Wesley delved into his bag, and dug something out. He pulled a face. “What’cha got there?” asked Petra. “Oh, just something old Goldie didn’t want,” said Wes with a half smile. He carefully kept the object out of the fire light. “Hell, that’s his bawaaghometer! He wouldn’t give that up! You’re a bloody tea-leaf, Wes, I’m making sure I keep my purse well hidden from now on!” She stopped when she noticed Wes’s perplexed face. “Well, will you look at that!” he said. She moved over a little, and saw the small leather case, the familiar compass dial, then started when she saw the plumb bob. “Oh s@#t!” she said softly, looking at the wire, which was stretched horizontal. She followed the line of the copper cable with her eye, across the tunnel directly towards the sulking Troll slayer. “Er Grim,” she called, drawing his attention. “I think we have a problem.” (Well that went extra-ordinarily well. I gave the orc leader a few advantages - extra wounds, strength and toughness points, super thick armour, two fortune die for the Waaagh! energy and a full compliment of action cards, and he nearly did for my players single-handedly! I’d decided that the Waaagh! energy was centred in Grim, and the orc would be unwilling to move away from him - hopefully the players would realize this and pepper him from a distance before forcing him to attack and lose his advantage. Didn’t happen. Admittedly they had some really bad dice rolls, but sheesh! he was tough. The players being on the receiving end of someone who could take them down in one strike for once, was unnerving for them. I also arranged for the reappearance of Grim to be at a suitably dramatic point. As to the postscript and the Waagh! charged Slayer, I just don’t know, just seemed a good idea when I knew Wes had nicked the bawaaghometer. Perhaps it’ll wear off, who knows.

Scientific discovery This has taken quite a while to get written up - my group has expanded, left, and rejoined in the meanwhile. We’ve played through the gathering storm and are now somewhere deep in the slums of Altdorf, strutting heroes all. But this is how we got there. Characters Petra Nunce, Reiklander - gambler Grimmer Grimmson, Dwarf - mercenary Wesley Smitt, Reiklander - scout The underway So here they are, our three heroes. Cold, wet, wounded and with no idea what they’re doing. Their lamp oil is half gone, they’ve no food, no water and they’re chasing an undetermined number of goblins in an attempt to recover a by now half-rotted corpse. What to do? “Onwards!” cries Grimmer, leading the group to the left. “Why not that way?” asks Petra, determined not to follow the psychotic dwarf blindly into more trouble without at least token resistance. “That way is east.” Says the dwarf patiently. A pause. “Karak Azgaraz.” More silence. “They’ve been fighting goblins for a thousand years; anyone going that way will have to get past pit-traps, rockfalls, explosive mines and poison gas, before finally being slaughtered by angry dwarven warriors. Anyway,” says Grimmer pointing. “The tracks go that way.” Sniggers from Wes and they set off west, following a pretty obvious mass of muddy footprints. Discarded scraps of food, bits of clothing, a broken knife and at one point a broken goblin are scattered along the route of march. “They’re moving pretty fast,” says the scout, Wes, examining the tracks and the body more closely. “Looks like they had a bit of a falling out, too. Heads almost off this one.” The other two gather around. “Typical greenskin blow,” sneers Grimmer, “Struck from behind. Nice slice, though, cut right through his iron collar. Then someone seems to have slit his gizzard and rummaged about a bit. Probably a bit hungry.” An hour later Petra’s lamp starts to sputter. They refill them, emptying the oil bottle, and realize that they’ve not got enough fuel to get back to the horses. A bit of an argument here, Petra voting for trying to get as far back as possible before the lanterns fail, while the other two vote to press on. (Oh, the blind optimism of those who’ve already died once - two to the party tension meter). They rest for a short while in the dark, but due to lack of food, only recover one fatigue point. Miserable, they press onwards, only using one lamp to save fuel, the two humans huddled close and tripping frequently, picking themselves up with varied curses. “Make more noise, why don’t you,” sneers the dwarf. “It’s not as though were trying to sneak up on anyone!” (Another point to the tension meter). “Listen here, Shorty,” (another tension point), growls Petra, “we’re stumbling along a dead straight tunnel holding up a light that can be seen a mile off. (Another point as Wes looks around worriedly). We’re probably outnumbered ten-to-one, we’re cold, we’re hungry and we’re looking for a half rotted corpse that was probably dumped back in the mine. It doesn’t matter wether we’re totally, unbelievably, exceptionally frigging inaudible, WE ARE GOING TO DIE!” (And trigger the tension meter - fatigue and stress all round as the party squares up to each other.) There is a short, sharp argument, both in- and out- of character, when an unknown voice butts in. “She’s quite right, you know. You will all die.” The party whips swords out of sheaths and stands back to back. A short, square figure steps forward, heavily armoured, carrying a huge axe. Behind the squat shape half a dozen more figures can be seen, pointing crossbows at the heroes. “A bloody Dwarf!” hisses Petra. The figure grins, showing gold-plated teeth in the lamplight. “Mr Bloody Dwarf to you, Slim.” He steps forward and quizzes Grimmer in the dwarf tongue, full of sharp vowels and glottal stops. More conversation, some heated, lots of waving hands then the dwarf spits out a word, and the crossbows are lowered. Grimmer takes Petra and Wes aside. (Originally the players weren’t meant to meet the Ironbreakers for some time, but the arguments against continuing were getting pretty powerful, so I bumped up the appearance of some possible allies a bit, and sped up the storyline. Grimmer, using the vengeance for fallen kin gambit, and being a fellow dwarf, easily charms the Leader of the Ironbreakers). “These dwarfs have been tracking the goblins for some time now, seems they’re up to no good. And there’s good news, there’s better news and there’s brilliant news.” Grimmer smiles, waiting for encouragement. Nothing. “The good news is that there’s only about thirty of the goblins. The better news is that Goldtooth over there,” he gestures over his shoulder with a thumb, “says we can join him in killing them all. And the best news is that he thinks Grim is with them!” He nods with excitement. “Yay,” mutters Petra, clearly underjoyed. “When you say with them,” asks Wesley, “do you mean with them. Like, not dead but willing? Or do you mean a shambling undead horror type of with?” He looks at his companion questioningly. “I mean as in my-dead-brother-who’s-cut-up-and-strapped-to-a-banner-like-a-piece-of-offal-type-with!” bellows Grimmer. “Ah,” says Wesley. “That type of with. Dead with.” The discussion is interrupted by the squad of dwarves settling down to eat. Seeing the hungry looks on the companions faces, Goldtooth digs out a packet of food and slings it to Petra. “Try this. It’ll put hairs on yer chest.” Goldtooth’s companions snigger and nudge each other, before pulling out blankets and settling down for the night. After wolfing down the vaguely sausage like travel food (recover all fatigue and 1 wound each), the heroes decide to sleep too. Grimmer, being an old campaigner, lies down, farts thunderously and passes out almost at once. Wesley, knowing the dwarf from old, positions himself some distance from Grimmer’s rear, and is soon asleep too. Petra, finding herself too close to the noxious dwarf, gets up and wanders around. In the dim light of the dwarves night lamp, only Goldtooth, crouched over some small instrument, and a lookout seem to be awake. She approaches the leader. “What’cha doin’?” she asks nonchalantly, trying to see what he’s looking at. To her surprise, the dwarf waves her over. They chat for a while, and Petra discovers that the dwarf, as well as being a warrior, is also some kind of a scientist, a practical anthropologist he calls himself. (Petra pulls out all the stops to charm Goldtooth, throwing in fate points, luck and smiling incessantly. I don’t tell her that, as part of his anthropologic background, the dwarf has a rather unhealthy interest in females of other species. Also, as Grimmer might have told her if he hadn’t been in such a snit, in dwarf society, the acceptance of a cooked ram’s pizzle (the rather chewy sausage they’d eaten earlier) by a woman from a man is often seen as the first step on the path to courtship). “Is it useful, this practical anthropology?” she asks, unaware of all the undercurrents. Goldtooth considers her for a moment. My God, a female human under the age of fifty, seemingly in possession of her wits who seems interested not only in him but his work! How to keep her talking? He points at a box-like contraption in front of him. It contains a dial and some kind of a plumb bob, a sphere suspended on copper wire. “What do you make of it?” he asks. Petra examines the instrument; she’s seen something like this before. “A compass?” she hazards. Goldtooth nods in near ecstasy. Knowledgeable too! “Partly,” he agrees. “What about this bit?” He points at the plumb bob. The sphere appears to be offset a little, swinging towards the corridor. Seeing Petra’s blank look, he starts to explain. “You know how goblins and the like seem to go crazy every now and then, they swarm together, getting angry and really vicious?” Petra nods. She’s heard of the great orc Waaghs! “Well, when this happens, the greenskins get kind of attracted to each other. Not, of course in that kind of a way.” He laughs and pats Petra on the knee, then continues in a lecturing kind of tone. “This attraction is present in every bit of the creature, and can be measured as a pull towards the source of the disturbance.” He waits until Petra nods understanding. “But how to use this snippet of knowledge?” he shakes his head in mock bewilderment and shuffles closer to the gambler. “This is where practical anthropology comes into its own. Say you take a bit of the goblin - a piece of the heart for example - and suspend it on a line.” He opens the weight on the plumb bob, revealing a hollow space containing a blob of green flesh, then closes it up again. “The irresistible attraction between the greenskin and its fellows stimulates the instrument,“ A squeeze of Petra’s knee and a raised eyebrow. “It wishes to get closer to its attractor. Much, much, closer.” He’s practically sitting in the gamblers lap now. “Voila, you have a waagh! detector. A Bawaaghometer* I call it.” He leaves his hand on Petra’s knee and moves his face closer to hers. The gambler is in a quandry. On the one hand, Goldtooth and his men are the only thing standing between the companions and possible death. On the other hand the dwarf is short, repulsive, halitotic and, well, a dwarf. (Cries of ‘take one for the team!’ by Phil (Grimmers alter ego) are not helpful and are punished with a couple of tension points). Petra takes Goldtooth’s hand and smiles at him, before twisting it up his back and, whipping out a dagger, presses it against his neck. She whispers something obscene and bloodthirsty in his ear, then glances around at the rest of the company of dwarves. Now she’s done this she’s not sure what to do next. If Goldtooth gets really angry, how the hell is she going to get out of this? One of the sleeping dwarves moves a little, then another makes a sound, then another, almost a guffaw. Suddenly all the dwarves are sitting up laughing uproariously and pointing at Goldtooth and Petra. “Put the wee pervert down, girlie. He’s harmless. Just a bit of an itch he’s got from all that study.” Eventually everyone calms down, and they settle for the night. Goldtooth is furious, but is calmed down by the other dwarves, and Wes and Grimmer find the whole thing hilarious. Petra positions herself well away from both the amorous Goldtooth and the noxious Grimmer and, slipping her pistol under her carry sack, falls into a fitful sleep. *I made a special item card for this. Not very useful, but really, really fun. The waaagh! After a poor sleep the companions are woken by the Ironbreakers. They share some rock-like travel bread (no more ram’s pizzle!), then set out along the underway. The dwarves wont let the humans use a torch, and they endure several hours of staggering along holding onto one of the dwarves belts before there is a break and a little lamplight. The party find themselves in a widening of the underway, with two side passages leading away on either side. Goldtooth digs out the bawaaghometer and fiddles with it, trying to locate the goblins. “Just look at the bloody tracks,” mutters Wes, pointing towards the left hand passage. Goldtooth fiddles some more, and the plumb bob twitches, then whips around in circles, wrapping itself around the scientists finger and tightening suddenly. Goldtooth manages to free himself with much effort, and curses, dripping blood from a heavily sliced finger, before kicking the box across the floor. “Bloody stupid idea,” he mutters. Predictably the rest of the party find this hilarious. “Close then?” asks Grimmer, with a straight face. Suddenly one of the dwarves shushes the party, and points towards the doorway Wes had indicated. There’s the sound of an argument, and two goblins stagger through the opening, biting and kicking each other. They look up briefly in surprise at the company, then are hit by six crossbow bolts and expire messily. “That way, then,” notes one of the dwarves. A ten minute climb up some crumbling steps and they emerge from a narrow cave overlooking a clearing. The place is full of goblins; screaming, shouting, fighting greenskins, eating, puking, singing in total abandon, several hundred all told. Wesley gasps in alarm as one of the goblins slowly rises off the floor, feet kicking, to hang unsupported above the screaming crowd. His head explodes suddenly, spraying blood and brains everywhere, to much hilarity. Goldtooth starts to look serious. “Oh yeah, a Waagh!’s building here.” He nods towards one of the warriors, who quickly sheds all his armour, turns and starts running down the steps. “We’re going to need reinforcements to crush this before any of the big boys join.” He gestures the heroes over, and points towards the goblin maelstrom below. The danger seems to have made him forget his anger with Petra. “A rare sight; hopefully not our last. Someone down there is the focus for all this. If we can kill them, we can stop it dead.” He points at a group of three figures, unusual for goblins in that they carry no weapons. They begin dancing around, surrounded by a green nimbus of power. “Them, you think?” (We’re building party tension points again. No-one, not even Grimmer wants to be around this madness when it breaks. A hurried consultation between the players). “We’ll scout about a bit, ok?” suggests Petra. When Goldtooth says nothing, the three quickly gather their belongings and start to move along the edge of the clearing. “I did not sign on for this,” hisses Petra as they move off. “Me neither,” agrees Wesley, surprisingly, “There’s bloody hundreds of the buggers.” Grimmer looks a little put out by this betrayal from his closest companion. He considers. “Alright,” he says. “Let’s find out if Grim’s body really is down there. If it’s not we’ll head back to the mine and leave Goldtooth to it. If it is, we can wait till the rest of the dwarves arrive, then slip in under cover of the fighting, cut down the body and be off back down the tunnel in seconds.” The other two still look dubious. This has to be one of the worst plans they have ever heard. Grimmer realizes there is near mutiny in the ranks. “You two can stay in cover whilst I do the fighting - just shoot anything that comes near me. If I get killed you can leg it.” Petra snorts; as if they’d do anything else. A rough plan decided, Wesley slips away to scout out the rest of the goblin scrum. Luckily they are so engrossed by the building Waagh! they don’t think to set guards. He soon returns with the news that there is the half naked body of a dwarf hanging on a crude cross at the back of the gathering - a banner of some sort, he reckons. There are a few goblins lying around nearby, but that’s all. Grimmer slips away to tell the rest of the dwarves their plans - a ferocious attack in the goblins rear whilst they’re engaged at the front is how he puts it, and surprisingly Goldtooth agrees (he wishes to keep his ‘humie hellcat’ safe for further wooing). The mercenary returns with the news that the rest of the dwarves should be arriving in a four or five hours, and they’ll be attacking at once before the Waagh! grows any more. The players spend the intervening time binding their wounds and resting (successful first aid tests by Wesley to recover a wound point each, remove all fatigue and stress and reset party tension counter to zero). Next stop goblin city. (Well, that went better than expected. The crew finally seem to have realized that they can’t fight their way through an endless array of foes, and all three seem to have really enjoyed the more more social side of the game - a love sick dwarven scientist with a penchant for inter-species relationships and a passion for dissecting goblins made an interesting character. The stuff about Waaghs! just kind of developed as we went along as the players talked about it - a couple of them have scientific backgrounds so really enjoyed nutting it out. As it’s all speculation, I’ll have no compunction about changing it completely at some later date. Oh yes, I forgot to mention, after the Bawaaghometer was kicked across the corridor, Wesley (he of the klepto tendencies) ‘recovered’ it).

Frederheim hospice can be found in scribd

Workin’ in a coal mine Characters Petra Nunce, Reiklander - gambler Grimmer Grimmson, Dwarf - mercenary Wesley Smitt, Reiklander - scout Getting to the mine Following their attack on the stage, the players will be pursued by a posse of roadwardens from Lachenbad - I set up a ten space tracker for the pursuit and place a marker for the players at space 6. Fortunately, the players will be some hours ahead of their pursuers - the hunters will be unable to gain any ground on the adventurers whilst they maintain a moderate pace, unless they have an idea where the players are going. Various ruses may be used to increase or decrease the heroes lead (Thanks to Gitzman for the use of parts of his great map - note Lachenbad is an add-on here - it’s present in Andy Law’s map, but not in others. Tax dodge, I say. ) (Well, the characters are so far off beam in terms of the scenario that I’ve just prepared key characters and places; I really have no idea where they are going. Moving between the key points is going to be down to dice rolls and old fashioned winging it. Wes and Grimmer have two advances [house rule, catching up with the gambler], whilst Petra has one. Wes and Petra chose riding - Grimmer teaching them as they go along. As its out of career, Petra only gets to half learn it, completing it on her next advance). The three start the session with a bit of a summary of what’s going on. I allow them a look at the map above, and they realize that they’ve got to cross the river to get to the mine, so they instantly turn their string of horses southwards, and navigating by the stars (an easy test for the scout), heading towards the river. They get there around dawn, and discover the river is, if not wide, pretty fast flowing. A debate ensues about how to get across; no-one can swim, and the dwarf, being a dwarf, can’t even float. They decide to swim the horses across - Wes strips off his leather armour and straps it to his horse, whilst Grimmer decides to wear his. “Five gold crowns this cost me, and anyway, if I go under, I’ll be going straight down no matter what I’m wearing.” (Not only psychotic, but a skinflint). Before attempting the crossing, Wesley removes a few choice items from the stage’s horses - two oil lamps he’d hacked off the coach’s exterior and a bottle of lamp-oil, and straps them to his mount. The spare horses are loosely tied one to each players pommel, two for Grimmer, the best rider, and, choosing a suitable spot, the three brave the waters. (All three throw in all their fate points - I think they realize that failure would be catastrophic). Grimmer goes first, and easily makes it across with both the spare horses. Wesley, who goes next, also makes it, but loses a horse to the current. Petra, the least skilled of the riders, comes off her horse, losing her backpack, but in a freakish stroke of luck, manages to grab her spare horse and it pulls her to safety (initially a failure, but gambler skill re-rolls to get success with both a star and a comet). Soaking wet and shivering, Wesley quickly makes a fire, and the three settle down to warm up (fatigue all round). After a bit of a doze, Wesley buries the fire and they set off. They figure there’s another few hours before the coachman and Josef’s bodyguard reach Lachenbad and organizes a posse, and anyway, they’ll be on the wrong side of the river, so aim to travel as discreetly as possible. (Unfortunately the bodies of the lost horses will be washed up against the piers of the ‘Bad bridge, prompting inquiry. Oops.) The three riders head towards the mine, skirting the foothills around Karak Argaraz. They keep a sharp eye out for goblin sign, but see nothing except for some several weeks old wolf tracks, and some more recent sign of horses. They follow these tracks to the mine, and spend an hour or so watching, but see nothing. “Deserted,” claims Wesley, but still sneaks down to the entrance for a scout around. Deserted it is. The adventurers set up camp a short distance from the mouth of the mine, tying up their horses in a small copse for secrecy (do they really think they’ll be there when they get back?). They decide to breakfast before setting off, but realize with horror that they have no rations, beyond a squashed packet of sandwiches Wesley stole from the coachman (oh yes, fatigue is going to be a real problem). The meal is scant and too salty (Grimmer), and all too soon they set off for the mine, the dwarf leading, whilst Wes and Petra follow, carrying the oil lamps from the coach. The mine I used a series of mine location cards I’d made using Strange Eons to run the session underground; a mine entrance card, a glory hole card, a flooded tunnels card a mine face card and an unknown tunnel card. There are some goblins here, left behind by the fleeing yellow water tribe, as well as a couple of cave squigs. Further in there is a cave-in, where a set of deeper tunnels have been revealed; part of the old dwarven underway that connects to Karak Azgaraz. This was the route that the goblins took to enter the mine, and the way they fled after being discovered. Oh yes, also unallocated chaos stars cause a variety of mishaps, including minor cave-ins and pockets of explosive gas! Grimmer, Petra and Wesley enter the narrow mine entrance, and Petra points out where Grim made his last stand. After a moments silence, the dwarf presses on with weapon drawn and shield raised. The two Reiklanders follow, both with their lamps lit, and continue down the gentle slope, noting broken weapons and the occasional blood stain. Ahead, the tunnel opens out into a glory hole, a man made cavern filled with the detritus of goblin occupation - animal bones, discarded clothing and a pit filled with goblin dung. “Don’t go near it,” Grimmer warns, “strange things grow in goblin ****.” Giving the cess-pit a wide berth, they investigate the rest of the cavern, searching for Grim’s corpse, but fail to find it. “They must have taken it with them,” concludes Wesley, and the three press on into the mine. As they descend, the tunnel becomes wetter, and side passages appear, narrow cuts that go who knows where. After ten minutes, the three are wading through water that is up to their knees (thighs for Grimmer), impeding their movement. “I hope you remember the way out,” says Petra Grimmer sneers. “We dwarves never get lost underground.” (“We hope,” mutters Wesley) There is the sound of a buzzing insect, and Grimmer throws his shield up, deflecting an arrow. “Goblins!” he cries. “Where?” shouts Petra, raising her lamp. (The two humans are completely blind due to their poor night vision and their lights. Petra draws her pistol and Wesley his sword, both adopting a ready position). “I don’t know!” screams the dwarf, as another arrow whips past him, narrowly missing Wesley. “Put out the bloody lights,” he bellows, “you’re making me a target!” The two Reiklanders are reluctant to lose their only sources of illumination, leaving them helpless. An arrow whistles out of the dark and pierces Wesley’s leather hauberk.”****!” he yells, and blows out his light. Petra, instead, places her lamp on a rocky outcrop and moves away from it, crouching down in the water to conceal herself. With the lights doused, a faint phosphorescent light can be seen from various fungi on the walls. (I love this. Wes, Petra and Grimmer have no idea where the arrows are coming from, and are becoming increasingly hysterical. I’m allowing them hard tests to notice movement now they’ve doused their lights). Grimmer moves forward down the tunnel, shield raised, hoping to draw the goblins fire - the water impedes him, so he can only manage a walk. Wesley follows, bow drawn, and Petra brings up the rear, watching behind frequently. Three arrows flick out of the dark from ahead, one striking Grimmer’s shield, the others clattering of the tunnel walls. “Can you see them?” whispers the dwarf, and his companions both whisper a no. Suddenly the light behind dims, and Petra turns to see a goblin reaching for the lamp she’d left behind. She fires, a difficult shot made easier by the light, and strikes the goblin, but knocks him over, dousing the lamp. In the aftermath of the gunshot, three more arrows whip out, and Grimmer takes a minor wound in his leg. “There!” shouts Wesley, firing his bow and missing. “Straight ahead!” Grimmer can see nothing but charges nevertheless, tiring quickly in the water. (Fatigue is doubled due to the flooded conditions). Two shapes spring at him, and a muddled melee ensues, the dwarf slamming one goblin with his shield, but the other manages to slip around him and stabs him in the back. Another goblin appears from a hidden side tunnel and attacks Wesley, but misses. The scout drops his bow and pulls out his sword and dagger and counterattacks, but he too misses his target. Petra, hearing the goblin behind splashing through the water, hurriedly reloads her pistol, and as the greenskin charges her, shoots him between the eyes. There is a long drawn out cry and he falls back, dead. With the death of one of the goblins, the rest flee. Grimmer decides not to pursue, and the other two heroes move up to join him, gathering up dropped weapons. Wesley gives Petra the lamp to relight and digging some bandages out of his pack, begins to see to everyones wounds. There is a faint splashing sound. “What’s that?” asks Petra. It comes again, from behind, louder this time, rather like a ball being dropped into water. They turn as one, and a massive red spherical creature, smelling strongly of dung, bounces into them. Petra and Wesley are sent sprawling into the dirty water, whilst the creature bites savagely at Grimmer, wounding him badly (one critical wound inflicted). He strikes back, but the creature is too hard to hit due to its constant bouncing movement. Suddenly it throws itself backwards, hitting Petra and knocking her over again, losing both the lamp and her pistol, but fortunately missing with its bite. Wesley, emerging spluttering from the water into darkness, pulls out his dagger and attempts to stab at where he thinks the creature is, but the darkness and its weird movements defeat him. With a bellow, Grimmer throws himself at the creature, slicing its side open, and pinning it down with his sword, whilst Wesley, more through luck than judgement manages to eviscerate the immobilized creature. As Petra drags herself from the muddy water in total darkness, she hears the now familiar splashing of a large body on water. She barely has time to shout a warning before something massive smashes into her again, knocking her newly recovered sword from her hand and inflicting a deep bite on her shoulder. She thrashes wildly as the creature stands on her, holding her underwater, desperately trying not to breathe in the filthy water, trying not to die. And suddenly the pressure is off, and strong hands haul her out of the mud. With a strange mournful cry the creature can be heard bounding away down the tunnel, loud splashes marking every leap. Grimmer yells a few obscenities after it, but seems too exhausted to do any more. The three heroes lean against the dripping tunnel walls, exhausted, before making another attempt to set themselves right. Wesley’s bandages are ruined, so he binds up everyone’s wounds as best he can with strips torn from Grimmer’s shirt, the only one who’s clothes are half dry. Petra empties her pistol of wet powder and re-packs it, unsure how well it will work. She then gropes around in the dark to recover the lamp, which is miraculously unbroken. A few tense moments looking for her tinderbox before she finds it and relights the lamp, before recovering the other lamp dropped further back. As they push on, the tunnels rise a little and the water recedes. The tracks of the fleeing goblins are easily seen, and three advance cautiously. More piles of spoil are dotted around the tunnels, and a few broken tools can be seen. “Must be nearing the work face,” remarks Grimmer, and indeed, ahead can be seen a darker band of minerals across the rock face. “Coal,” says the dwarf, gathering some of the black mineral up and putting it a pile. “Make a nice fire.” With Wesley and Petra shivering, there’s nothing to do but make a blaze to dry off in front of. Still no food, and their stomachs make their protests heard - grumbling by the two humans is quickly quashed by Grimmer. “Two more days you promised me. Do you go back on your word?” Petra and Wes grudgingly agree. (All three are now burdened with two fatigue points from cold, exertion and lack of food). An hour or so later, they all feel warm enough to explore a little, and they spread out, looking for goblin sign. In a few moments their is a shout from Wesley and they gather around a small cave-in. “The tracks lead down here - there’s another tunnel,” he shouts, and clambers over the cave in. “The collapse must have revealed it.” All three slip into the new tunnels, and Grimmer draws in a breath. They stand in a great echoing corridor, with an arched ceiling and small carvings set regularly at the apex. The walls are flat and mirror smooth, and the passage runs straight as an arrow, wide enough to take ten walking abreast. “This is dwarf work!” he says. “The Underway.” Aftermath Well, that was a lot of fun. I love the way the players lack of preparation comes back to bite them on the bum - no food, bad lights [how much lamp oil have they got left?], no clue about what they’re doing. And fighting in darkness with poor lillumination is really difficult and nerve wracking; even a weak enemy is a challenge in these circumstances. The players were getting quite worried, what with arrows flicking out at them, and no idea where the enemy were. And when the first squig appeared they were panic stricken. Great fun.

Everyone knows he's tough, so shoot him with arrows from a distance. Set up trip wires. Make him fight in water (at only 4' 6" tall, can be a BIG problem). Use poison. Steal his weapons one night whilst he sleeps. Ambush him. Worst comes to worst, one of his friendly NPC's is actually an assassin; stick him in the back with a sharp pointy thing. Personally, though, I like to have a tough PC about; at some point they get all heroic and die gloriously (and bloodily) whilst everyone else runs. Using NPC's with Improved Parry/Guarded position and lots of def and soak sounds good. Also, why not have an enemy as tough as him appear - whole big honourable challenge thing - could be a glorious fight to the death

Dwarves and horses - never thought about it. Wish I'd thought about it, I'd have made my dwarf players ride side saddle. Now that would really have pee'd him off!