[WFRP] Hunters of Hexensnacht IC

[-Sentinel-]

OOC thread


Gord Muel's nights were full of dreams.

Near Hexensnacht, the dreams always grew more frequent, more vivid. Perhaps, as the myths said, the veil between the world of the living and the world of the dead did grow thinner around this time of the year, because Gord dreamed mostly of the dead. His mother, his sister, his father. And during his waking hours, the woodsman thought about them, tried to remember them. There was not much else to do in Sir Friedrich von Carstein's cold, windowless cells. Gord quickly lost track of time.

After either a week or a month, the rusty cell door creaked open, giving way to a stocky man holding a lantern in one hand and a spiked mace in the other. Gord, his eyes no longer accustomed to the light, had to blink several times to see the newcomer clearly. The big man had a salt-and-pepper beard and a broken nose. Gord instantly recognized him as Hans Kiefer, Sir Friedrich's grim-faced bailiff and enforcer. The lord's dog, people in Eulesfurt contemptuously called him.

“Get up, gentleman,” said Hans, baring his yellow teeth. “Tonight's the night. His Lordship and his guests would like to see you before the hunt.”

The woodsman could hear noises in the hallway: Hans' men were dragging the other prisoners out of their cells. With a resigned sigh, Gord got to his feet and followed the bailiff. There were seven preys tonight, six humans and a halfling. A dozen guards herded them up the stairs, along another hallway and to a large oaken door. Hans knocked politely, almost fearfully.

Sir Friedrich himself, an athletic young man with wavy dark hair and a neatly-trimmed beard, answered the door. He was already wearing chainmail and a breastplate bearing the heraldry of the house of Eulesfurt (a white owl on a black field). “Ah! Yes, Mr Kiefer, let them in,” he said with a broad smile that showed his fangs but did not reach his cold grey eyes.

Gord and his fellow prisoners were roughly pushed into a small yet well-furnished dining room with windows overlooking the night outside. A large amount of food rested on the table, its smell positively mouth-watering to the prisoners. Two more nobles were seated there, both of them exuding the same aura of fear and malevolence as Sir Friedrich. One was a stunningly beautiful young woman with long blue-black hair tied into a loose braid. She wore riding boots, a fur-lined purple cloak and many jewels. A rapier and a pistol hung at her belt. The other was a bone-thin, sallow youth with a lean face and prematurely greying hair. His eyes had a flat, dead stare that chilled Gord's blood. He was clad in simple black robes that seemed below his station.

Sir Friedrich dismissed Hans and the guards, then turned to his two noble guests. “Our preys have arrived,” he announced cheerfully. “So what do you think about them?”

The two seated nobles quietly scrutinized the seven mortals, their hungry gazes unsettling.

“There's not as many as last year,” noted the lean youth, his voice little more than a whisper. “We had ten, if I remember well.”

“True,” Friedrich agreed, “but these seven are a more hardened kind, I believe. They should give us a better hunt. Some might even try to fight back.”

“But with a stench like that, they'll be easy to track down,” sneered the young woman, wrinkling her nose. “How long have they been rotting in your cells, dear cousin?”

“No more than a few weeks,” said Friedrich almost apologetically, “but keeping them clean is more trouble than it's worth. Peasants don't bathe their hogs before they butcher them, do they?” His smile grew wider as he addressed the prisoners: “Let us introduce ourselves. This lovely young woman, here, is my cousin Elsa. She came all the way from the Border Princes to partake in the hunt. The other is my cousin Steffan, from the Drakwald.”

Elsa inclined her head and showed her teeth in a predatory smile. “Pleased to meet you,” she said, barely pronouncing the m from meet.

“Likewise,” muttered Steffan in a bored tone.

“And I, of course, am Sir Friedrich von Carstein,” their host concluded with an oily smile. “I trust you're every bit as excited as we are. Will you have something to eat or drink before you go?” He pointed at the food and wine on the table.

[Thragka]

Bernhard spent a few long moments simply squinting around him through his fringe, refusing to sweep the matted hair from his eyes as though it were the visor on a helm, as if there were anything he had that could keep him safe. All men, then, his fellow captives. He was almost thankful for this, in a way; it meant no more of his people would suffer at Sir Friedrich’s hand during the hunt. Aye, and suffer I shall, to be sure. A moment of panic seized him – his chest tightened, and he gave the smallest shudder, though he tried not to show it. He’d seen off more than a few shambling groups of zombies from the borders of the Moot in his time on patrol, and knew enough about the Walking Dead that he’d not shy to face a tottering bag of flesh again, nor a set of bones. But, gods be good, a von Carstein! The name was not unknown to the Fieldwardens, and right now the only blessing he could count was that he was deep in Sir Friedrich’s territory, rather than vice versa.

He tried to compose himself. Food,, he thought to himself, or at least thought he thought – then he realised the cracked voice that had piped up had been his own, hoarse from lack of use in the past weeks. It had been so long since he’d had a decent meal. And he’d need his strength tonight, for certain. And – and – gods, it did smell good.

“I’ll share your table, sir,” Bernhard spoke up, summoning all the courage he had. “’T’ll not be said a Halfling turned down a meal freely offered.”

[DrK]

Kurt

Kurt looked at the two noblemen and the Lady before nodding his head in something approaching respect. He didn't really understand this hunt and prey business but they seemed nice enough. With a phlegmy cough he cleared his throat.
Er, My Lord. Thanks to you for the food. Its kind of you Kurt mumbled, limping across to the table and tearing off a haunch of meat and stuff his shabby pockets with rolls, swee tpastries and anything else.
"I think there 'as been a mistake milord. I'm no outlaw, just an innocent traveller. If you don't mind I may be going on my way now? He adds the last bit hopefully, still not sure why the other prisoners and the small boy seem so scared. Chucking down a glass of win for some courage he waits expectantly for the lord's answer, his eyes mentally undressing the young Lady in a very obvious manner.

[-Sentinel-]

The food on the table turned out to be delicious, especially after weeks of stale bread and thin gruel. The wine was excellent as well. Bernhard was about to ask what spice they put in their turkey pie, when Kurt put in:

"I think there 'as been a mistake milord. I'm no outlaw, just an innocent traveller. If you don't mind I may be going on my way now?

Elsa von Carstein blinked at him, then let out a warm laugh. "Isn't he funny?" she asked her cousins, her eyes sparkling. "It's so rare that they keep their sense of humor; most of them take our game far too seriously. Can you leave him to me?"

She returned Kurt's leer challengingly. The bandit was transfixed, unable to take his gaze off her amber eyes.

"Ah... I don't think he was joking, Elsa," said Friedrich. "The poor man has obviously no idea where he is." He turned to Kurt with a patronizing little smile. "If you're innocent, we can send for a Verenean lawyer," he offered with dripping sarcasm. "I'm sure he'll set things straight in no time."

[Kuma Da]

Magnus Holt

Dirt-stained and blinking, Magnus allows himself to be led into the dining room. He feels his body coil like a spring when von Carstein appears, and evidently his jailor feels it too. The man grabs him roughly by the back of his neck and pitches him through the doorway.

Collecting himself from the floor, Magnus takes in his surroundings. He forces his eyes to stay open until they water as he adjusts to the torchlight. It's at this point he notices the girl.

Elsa, she identifies herself as. Obvious nobility, with the same facial deadness as his other captors. His breathing seizes for a moment, and he becomes aware of how badly he reeks.

"Lord von Carstein," he addresses the lead vampire, dropping to one knee, "if you would permit me a moment's impudence, I think the lady Elsa is right. I do not see how it could be much challenge or sport to run down a bunch of unwashed peasants. If we are to provide a more satisfying hunt, I would request that my lordship allow me but a minute with a water barrel or a drinking trough." He tries not to let anyone see how hard his adams' apple is pressing against the front of his throat, or how his knees are fighting not to shake.

[DrK]

Kurt

Kurt stares at the lady, drinking in her form and her deep amber eyes. He barely hears the words of the other two vampires, transfixed like a moth with a flame. Eventually he is able to pull his gaze away from her, though his eyes constantly struggle and return to her lithe curves.
A lawyer won't be necessary milord. Can't be affording them, the words muffled by more chunks of meat washed down with wine, I'm sure we can come to an arrangement?. He still sounds hopeful, little realising the horrific predicament that he is in.

[Thragka]

Bernhard belched, goblet hovering by his lips. The sumptuous meal -- well, he thought, one train of thought interrupting the other, delicious perhaps after spending weeks in a dungeon, nothing compared to a true halfling feast -- anyway, the food had dulled the edge of the deep fear in his gut. Or maybe that was the wine; he was a slight fellow. He put down his goblet without taking the next gulp. Instead he picked up the knife he'd been using and began to wave it at the poor short Man who had no idea of the mess he was in. Lucky bugger comes from a more innocent place than this.

"There'll be no lawyer, friend," he said, a few flecks of food escaping his from between his teeth. "And you'll come to no arrangement. Sir Fred here means to hunt us, and I doubt we can dissuade him." He burped again.

[-Sentinel-]

"Lord von Carstein," Magnus addresses the lead vampire, dropping to one knee, "if you would permit me a moment's impudence, I think the lady Elsa is right. I do not see how it could be much challenge or sport to run down a bunch of unwashed peasants. If we are to provide a more satisfying hunt, I would request that my lordship allow me but a minute with a water barrel or a drinking trough."

"You lot are hardly peasants, if the weapons you were caught with are any indication," smirked Sir Friedrich. "Of course, you'll have them back. It would hardly be sporting otherwise, would it? But it's almost midnight, so I'm afraid there's little time to waste for other arrangements."

Steffan glanced at his pocket watch and grunted in agreement.

"There'll be no lawyer, friend," he said, a few flecks of food escaping his from between his teeth. "And you'll come to no arrangement. Sir Fred here means to hunt us, and I doubt we can dissuade him." He burped again.

"Very true," Sir Friedrich agreed. "I like to think it's much more merciful than hanging. At least the condemned have a chance to live, should the gods judge them innocent."

"Look at things this way," Elsa purred, her fangs gleaming. "We won't hold you any longer. Once you're out of the castle, you're free to go wherever you want. Isn't my cousin a sweetheart?"

[Kuma Da]

Magnus Holt

"Oh, yes. Practically a saint." Magnus' fear stomps hard on the irony in his voice, and it's hard to tell if he's being serious or not.

Realizing that the vampires aren't going to allow their prey any advantages they haven't carefully considered beforehand, he crosses over to the table and selects two large legs of roasted fowl to wrap carefully in a cloth napkin. "I hope my lord won't mind one of his humble guests taking something for the road. Fleeing for my life can be hungry work."

After the drumsticks are properly trussed, Magnus withdraws from the table and takes a few steps towards the halfling, keeping his body angled so that the vampires always stay in his field of vision. "I won't ask what you're doing so far from the moot," he says in a hush, "but you're doing a remarkable job keeping your calm."

[DrK]

Kurt

Kurt's eyes widen as he begins to grasp what's going to happen. Looking around he can see that both Magnus and the halfilng already realised what's happening. Just holding back the rising panic- and the vomit. Kurt looks nervously at the women again, paling as he notices the sharp fangs.
"I'm sorry Milord. Please, I ain't done no wrong. I don't want to become some undead monster". With that he'll scrabble over the table trying to shove a few more bits of food and drink into his pockets - he looks despondent as he realises there isn't likely to be much garlic in the food here.

[Thragka]

"Really?" said Bernhard to the tall human that had just approached him; Magnus noticed his eyes were wide and the thin grin stretching his lips seemed almost manic. "It's just the hic wine. And you probably know that my folk love a good meal." He shrugged. "I'm trying to hic work with what I'm given here."

He leant over the table, supporting himself on his stomach as he tilted, legs briefly leaving the ground, and nabbed a couple of small pies. "Speaking of, good idea about the provisions," he said, putting them on a napkin. As he wrapped them, he glanced briefly at Magnus.

"You're, ah, familiar with our hosts' ... reputation, then?"

[Blaze]

The dreams became too much for Gord, the ethereal visitors cutting in and out of the darkness of his cramped cell caused him to panic, there was no escape. After some time he became accustomed to the dark and grimy cell he was confined to, he almost welcomed the damp walls and in order to feel alive he would press his face to the rocks. He had no idea who or what had taken him in the forest, he could only hope for the best and to fondly remember his family in his dreams and thoughts.

When the bailiff appeared at his cell he quickly became concerned. Squinting through the light cast by the lantern carried by the bailiff he was able to identify him, the realization of where Gord was sent shivers through his body. Keep your calm. Keep your calm. Panic will only make things worse. Keep your calm. Gord was at peace with his predicament. Realizing who's captive he was became an assurance to his doomed fate. He became disillusioned and empty, his eyes a void of nothing.

On entering the dining hall the sight of these malevolent creatures only made matters worse, and guaranteed the futility of the situation. Gord looked across their faces and each one gave him a different chill. Friedrich seemed to exude a gentlemanly manner, which gave Gord some comfort, considering the dilemma. When he looked at Elsa's countenance he saw a stunning woman with a confidence built on experience and age. When he looked at Steffan their gazes met, Gord's first instinct was to look away but he stared intently. Steffan came across as the vicious hunter who only wanted to get it over with so he could indulge himself; Gord hoped Steffan would be the one to finish him off.

After Gord's curiosity vanished he patiently listened to his captors' words. After realizing that there might yet be a chance for survival, Gord's spirit greatly increased. I will not die, not yet. Not yet. He walked over to the table of food and inspected it before eating, he wouldn't want to be debilitated by poisoned food.

As he sat there and waited for his captors to release them into the wilderness, he contently peered around the room, his stare returning to Elsa every now and again. He looked out the windows to try to discern where he might be and check the weather conditions. If Gord was to survive this fear fueled night, he had to have his wits about him.

Spoiler

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(1d100)[42] [Checking food]
(1d100)[22] [Looking outside to figure out where he is]

[-Sentinel-]

"I hope my lord won't mind one of his humble guests taking something for the road. Fleeing for my life can be hungry work."

"Go ahead," said Friedrich, a glitter of amusement in his eyes. "My cousins and I weren't going to eat this anyway."

"I'm sorry Milord. Please, I ain't done no wrong. I don't want to become some undead monster."

"Monster? My, you're bolder than most, aren't you?" said Elsa admiringly. "You almost make me want to give you the Kiss. And you know, you'd even thank me for it."

"But of course, the gift of undeath isn't for cattle like you," Sir Friedrich assured Kurt.

Meanwhile, Gord inspected the food carefully. It looked perfectly fine... but even if it was poisoned, there was no way to tell. His instinct told him, however, that poisoning one's prey would pretty much take all the fun out of the hunt. He took a glance outside; all he saw was a vast evergreen forest basked in the green glow of Morrslieb, and very far to the west, the half-frozen expanse of Owl Lake. He could hear wolves howling in the hills.

[Kuma Da]

"You're, ah, familiar with our hosts' ... reputation, then?"

Magnus Holt

"This isn't the first winter I've spent in Sylvania, no." Magnus watches the halfling with something approaching pity. They're all almost certainly going to die tonight, but something about the small man stuffing himself with food, trying to cram as much pleasure as he can into his last few hours, strikes a chord with the vagabond. "I'm not sure what your plans are for when we leave the castle, but if you can keep up, you're welcome to travel with me." He says this in an undertone, still keeping a wary eye on the vampires. After all, the could always decide to skip the chase entirely. There would be a cruel irony in that, entirely in keeping with some of the stories. It's best not to make any assumptions.

[DrK]

"Monster? My, you're bolder than most, aren't you?" said Elsa admiringly. "You almost make me want to give you the Kiss. And you know, you'd even thank me for it."
"But of course, the gift of undeath isn't for cattle like you," Sir Friedrich assured Kurt.

At the mention of a kiss Kurt's face lifts for a second before he realises what she means. Please milord, milady, why? We... he looks at the others considering before he finishes his sentence I ain't even from around here..

His pockets bulging and grabbing a stoppered bottle of wine in one hand he looks at the other men in the room. Whispering to the tall vagabond (Magnus). If you know where you're going then I reckon we'll be sticking together?.

[Kuma Da]

Magnus Holt

Magnus nods to the bandit. "If you can keep up."

[Thragka]

Bernhard looked up at the two men. "Keep up?" He grinned again, this time with a bit less desperation and a bit more legitimate humour. "You longlegs'll be tripping over your own ankles. I've been a fieldwarden since probably before you were born. I can keep up." In fact I'm probably faster than you lot, over the right ground, he thought -- but there was no sense in revealing that just yet. He extended a sticky hand.

"The name's Beutlin, Bernhard Beutlin."

[Kuma Da]

Magnus Holt

"Magnus." He meets the halfling's handshake with his own grubby, calloused palm. "And you are?" He glances towards the bandit.

[DrK]

Kurt

Kurt nods curtly to the Magnus and Bernhard. "Kurt" he nods. "Just Kurt. And don't worry I'll be able to keep up.

[-Sentinel-]

The three pale-faced nobles watched the conversation with mild amusement.

"Don't make your plans here, friends," laughed Elsa. "We have keen ears, you know, and neither of us wants this to be too easy."

"It's almost time to start," noted Steffen.

"Ah, yes," Sir Friedrich agreed eagerly. "So listen, mortals. The rules are simple. You run as far as you can. You will of course have a head start, so don't waste it. Once you're out of my lands, we won't pursue you any further." He clapped his hands. Hans, the bailiff, entered the room again. "Please give them back their weapons and armor, then let them loose outside my walls."

"Yessir."

[Pause if anyone wants to say or do something before leaving]

Ten minutes later, the seven prey stood shivering in two feet of snow outside the west gate of Sir Friedrich's black castle. To the west, north and south, the thick pine forest began some two hundred yards away and went on and on, dark and forbidding. A river ran just east of the castle. Eulesfurt could be seen further down the river, all the village's lanterns burning in an attempt to keep out the night. Hexensnacht was not particularly dark, since both moons shone brightly, but Morrslieb's green glow was rather sinister. The foothills of the World's Edge Mountains rose to the north and east; they were already higher and steeper than most mountains in the Empire, even this far from the mighty peaks where the Dwarfs dwelt.

"Awright, convicts," drawled Hans, seemingly indifferent to his fellow mortals' plight. "When the horn blows from the castle, it's time to run for your lives. When it blows a second time, run faster, 'cause it means they're comin' after you."

He turned to leave.


OOC:

Spoiler

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Rough map

Now is the time to make plans. I'll also wait for the others and possibly send a few PM's: only four players out of seven have posted so far.

[DrK]

Kurt

As the Count pauses for any last words Kurt stares at each of the 3 in turn. The warm glow of booze giving him some Bretonnian courage. "I'll tell you now, old Kurt won't be an easy meal for any fangfish such as yourself". Then glancing at the pretty lady. He shakes his hea sadly, "Its a shame milady, if you did be alive we might have had something...


Once he gets back his battered sword, bow and armour he starts to feel more confident still (or is just drunk). Though the snow and the cold does occasion a coment. "By Ulric's white furred balls. Its freezing out here. Looking around he glances down at Bernard and then to Magnus. So which way do you reckon? Any of those old wives tales of them sorts not being able to cross water being true?

[Dramiscius]

Dimzad - *shuffles out from the castle quietly, pulling back his dark hood to reveal a weathered face scarred with past pox marks* - We musn't tarry here in the shadow of the castle if we wish even a meager chance of success, come with me to the woods and we can gather out bearings and talk on the way... no use in stopping lest ye have a yearning to become vampire food, in which case stay here at the castle, Sigmar has no want nor use for you.

*shuffles off in a brisk walk towards the woods carrying a torch*

[Kuma Da]

Magnus Holt

Magnus has never felt particularly brave. Most of the time, there's been no need for it. Storming up to the gates of his father's estate, it was more anger than courage that led him to demand his birthright, and when the guards showed up to chase him off, he didn't stay to fight.

Likewise with the vampires in the Carstein castle, he didn't try to stare them down or claim that this hunt was unjust. He knew he couldn't hope to last a minute against the three of them. Now, though, something slow and furious uncoils in his gut as he watches Hans walk away. How many winters has he done this? How many lives has he turned loose for the counts to ride down?

Before he's quite aware what he's doing, Magnus slips his sword from its sheath and walks softly up behind Hans.

Actions:

Spoiler

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Silent move to Hans, slit his throat.

[Thragka]

Bernhard had to prevent himself from questioning what Magnus was doing rather loudly - his eyes widened as he realised what was about to happen.

Madness! he thought. This is madness!

[-Sentinel-]

As Dimzad began to walk away, a guard poked his head (and a loaded crossbow) out of a window and yelled: "Stop right there or I'll shoot! The horn hasn't blown yet!"

An ugly smile on his lips, Hans turned to look at the disobedient prey... only to find the woodsman trying to sneak towards him, sword drawn. A look of fear flashed across the bailiff's face: apparently, he had never expected his lord's to prey fight back.

"Help over here!" he barked, his hand going to his mace.

[DrK]

Kurt


Kurt smiles as his fellow prey goes to kill the git of a jailor. Morr choke on you Kurt mutters as he draws his boiw and fires an arrow in one smooth motion.

[DrK]

Spoiler

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Initiative (1d10+41)[43]
Attack roll (1d100)[87] (BS is 55%)
if hit damage is (1d10+3)[9]

Stupid dice roller not letting me adding rolls in edit

[Thragka]

"Ah, okay Magnus," said Bernhard, speaking quickly as he began to step backwards. "I like this whole situation as little as you, but killing him won't make things any easier for us, or anyone else!" Despite this show of diplomacy, Bernhard slides a pebble from his pocket into his sling and holds it out, ready to start twirling.

[Dramiscius]

Dimzad - *turning to the sound of the guard shouting he notices Hans moving towards the balif with his sword, and the balif in turn drawing his mace. Not wanting to reduce his odds of survival by losing a companion he charges up behind the Balif screaming *DIE HERETIC!* as his quarterstaff crashes down upon the Balifs head, splintering into pieces*

[Blaze]

Gord didn't say a word inside the castle, he was resolved to survive the night and talking to the creatures of the night was a waste of time. He ate a small meal at the table while their gear was being brought up by Hans, while eating he surveyed the other doomed souls. Gord was able to sneak out a smile on the return of Hans, the sight of his axe was extremely pleasant. Gord looked over his belongings carefully and made sure they weren't tampered with. After he was prepared he contemplated his imminent death, but also the slight possibility of life.

The group was ushered outside and the cold breeze gave Gord a surreal feeling and a determination he didn't have prior. He held his axe in one hand and bent down on one knee, putting his hand in the snow gave him a nice jolt, he was awake and ready. He noticed the tall thin man moving towards the bailiff with his sword drawn, "Idiot" Gord muttered.

Gord quickly stands up and raises his axe and takes a few steps away from the commotion. He firmly stands his ground as he readies for striking with his axe. Gord was about to say, "You'll tire yourselves out!" but he restrained himself and said nothing. It's better if they're tired. The vampires will have bodies in the way to get to me, as long as I stay ahead of them.