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  1. - Top - End - #1021
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    Default Re: [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart (II)

    Lothar steadied the former thief. "Easy. We're all goin' to sleep." His gaze was locked on Illiiya, and he carefully looked neither to Leopold's corpse nor his mother's grief. "An' then outta Hohlesbruck."
    Last edited by goblinpaladin; 2013-07-05 at 02:33 AM.
    Games:

    [WFRP] Ill Met By Morrslieb, as the increasingly-scarred Lothar Fischer.

    [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart, reprising Lothar Fischer.

    [WFRP] The Hour After Midnight as Lothar Fischer, former soldier.

    =

    January 19-25 2014 is GOBLIN WEEK!

    I did writings for it! Read them here!

    =

    sext: take my hand as the bombs fall. we will engrave our affectionate shadows on the walls in dush and ash, to last a thousand years. [my twitter]

  2. - Top - End - #1022
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    Default Re: [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart (II)

    Ithelus remained silent, staring out into the night. He didn't want to go to sleep, not yet anyway. How could the others think about rest at the moment? Here they wer having just narrowly survived a fight with a chaos champion.

    'Lothar, Illiiya. You look after Pieter, I don't think I did such a good job... leaving him behind. And Leopold, the poor kid deserves a proper burial. I'm... I'm going for a walk.'

    Ithelus's shoulders shuddered as a hacking cough wracked it's way through the elf. Spitting some bright yellow phlegm onto the ground the Elf set off without looking back. As he walked past Pieter, Ithelus's eyes remained firmly on the floor.

    LCP
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    Ithelus stumbled his way back towards the manor. Part of his mind was doing it's best to shake it's head and tut at him but old habbits die hard. He had to go back to just grab his coat from the crypt right? Or was all an excuse so that he wouldn't have to look Pieter in the eye for a little while longer?

    Stepping over the threshold of the manor Ithelus first retrieves his coat before deciding to explore the place a little bit, trying to keep his mind occupied.

    Spoiler
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    OOC: Search roll if needed. Ithelus is not looking for anyhting in particular, merely anyhting that catches his eye.He'd be more inclined to look for small things such as jewelry or perhaps diarys etc. He himself is not really sure if he's hunting after things for their value or if he just wants a keepsake, a la Skaven necklace.
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  3. - Top - End - #1023
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    Default Re: [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart (II)

    Ithelus

    The rain seeped into Ithelus' tunic as he trudged back up the hill towards the manor. The damp wool was cold against his skin, but he hardly felt it. He felt numb.

    The door of the manor was ajar. Stepping inside, Ithelus stood for a while, water pooling around his feet. He could hear the wind running its fingers over the manor's old roof, the great oaken beams of the rafters creaking their deep, decrepit creaks. There was no sign of the servants, or anyone else - no sign but the trail of red blotches where the knight had dragged Pieter up from the crypt. With the great hall in darkness and the cold night air swirling between its stone walls, the house felt more like a ruin than ever.

    Heading down to the crypt, he slowly opened the door. His coat still lay where he'd dropped it, but as he picked it up he saw the great slashes in it where he had used it to foul the knight's blade. A good seamstress might be able to put it back together, but right now 'rags' was a more appropriate description than 'coat'.

    Pieter's blood had pooled in the cracks between the ancient flagstones down here, lending a salty tang to the cold, sour air. Up on the stone bier against the far wall, Esther's body lay curled up and still. Pressing his fingertips against her throat, just under the jaw, Ithelus could feel no pulse. When the girl's ancestors had built this place, they could hardly have imagined the manner in which the last Verloren would be interred.

    As he drew his hand free, he felt his fingers brush against something cold around her neck. Catching hold of it, he drew it out. It was the silver dove pendant she had given Pieter - the one Pieter had given back after the bloodbath at the bandits' lair. Now, turning slowly on its chain, the symbol of Shallya seemed so out of place.

    Wandering back through the empty corridors of the house, Ithelus drifted like a ghost from room to room. His old instincts were speaking to him - about the carpets, the paintings, the handful of books in the library, even the moth-eaten beastman head that still hung stuffed and mounted beneath the great stairs. They were bulky things, though; only the books would have been easy to take with them, and even then they would be heavy.

    A locked drawer in Mils' old study contained a leather purse, a handful of shiny gold crowns glinting inside. In the dining room, he found a pair of tarnished silver candlesticks. In the boot room there were a pair of good black leather boots that had presumably belonged to Mils.

    Upstairs, there was little of value. Mils' room was as sparsely-furnished as Ithelus would have expected, and the few paintings of dead Verlorens that were not hung in the great hall seemed to watch him with their cracked-pigment eyes. Moving quickly on, he headed up the winding stair to Esther's room at the top of the tower.

    Up here, the whistling of the wind was louder. A loud groan of timber moaned through the structure as Ithelus put his foot on the top step, and he wondered if he hadn't felt the tower sway just a little.

    The room was still laid out exactly as Ithelus remembered it from the night that Ribault had forced his way in. Now he realised that despite its small size, it had to be the most richly-furnished room in the house - although that wasn't saying much. The room in which the thing that had been Alexa had died had been far nicer than this.

    Esther's dresses might have fetched a reasonable price from a seller of second-hand clothes. A broken hand-mirror had slid down between the dressing table and the bed, and on the dressing table itself there stood a little oak-wood box, its surface richly carved with tangled forest scenes. Opening it, Ithelus looked at what was inside.

    There wasn't much. A scattering of silver coins lay on the bottom, while over them lay a few folded pieces of parchment. Unfolding them, Ithelus began to read.

    They were letters from Ricard, old and crumpled from having been unfolded and re-folded time and time again. There were pale blotches where the ink had faded, but they were still perfectly legible. They spoke in a cheery, affectionate tone of where his troop had been posted, where he was headed, when he would be back. The later ones seemed to show some worry about the prospect of fighting, and asked why she had not written back, but the question was never resolved - after the seventh letter, the correspondence abruptly stopped.

    OOC:
    Spoiler
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    You can choose what to take and what to leave. The coin purse in Mils' study contains (2d10)[16] gold crowns and (1d10)[4] schillings. Esther's Feelings Box contains (1d10)[4] schillings, and the box might be worth a bit itself.



    1

    All

    A pale, watery dawn broke over Hohlesbruck the next day. The rain had blown itself out, but there was something worse about the cold clarity of the sunlight that crept over the village square. It illuminated every corner of the blackened wreck of the Flychers' house; it showed every bloody hoofprint in the mud around the huge corpse of the knight's horse. Worst of all, it showed the scores of crows that had gathered in the trees surrounding the village. The overlapping caws of their random calls formed an ugly dawn chorus, waking Lothar from his bed inside the deserted shell of the Heartless Man.

    Pieter was yet to wake, the young man's face still white from the blood he had lost. Lothar had done his best to bandage his injured arm, and trussed him up so he could not roll onto it in his sleep. Illiiya was already awake. Her face was pale too, but in Illiiya's case that was just the way she looked normally.

    Opening the door to the wet Drakwald morning, Lothar felt the mud of last night's deluge squelch under his boots. Leopold's body was gone from the street, and Ithelus was sitting on a tumbled drystone wall at the edge of one of the villagers' fields. Lothar wasn't sure whether the elf had slept at all - he had disappeared last night, some time before Lothar had got the other two back to the inn. There were dark circles under Ithelus' eyes, but the elf had been looking sick ever since the night of the fog - it was difficult to tell whether his appearance was due to weariness or illness.
    Last edited by LCP; 2013-07-06 at 09:05 AM.
    Spoiler: My Games
    Show

    WFRP 2E - Tales of Perilous Adventure
    The Hour After Midnight
    The Lord of Lost Heart
    Ill Met By Morrslieb

    Dark Heresy 1E - Wake of the Byzantium
    Episodes: I, II, III, IV, V

    WFRP 2E - The Bloody Crown
    Threads: I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X

  4. - Top - End - #1024
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    Default Re: [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart (II)

    Illiiya Jaelrae

    The night had not been kind to her. Until Lothar had guided her inside, Illiiya had not even seemed willing to move from her spot beside Leopold's body. Even once she did, she had met all attempts to speak with her with only one barely muttered set of words.

    All... my fault....

    She had not so much slept as laid down for a long time, unwilling to see the nightmares that were awaiting her when exhaustion finally claimed her. The morning brought little change in her demeanor either, until she stepped outside at Lothar's urgings and saw the bare spot where Leopold once lay. The worry that he may have become a wandering, dead thing like the knight was more than she could bear.

    W-where? She muttered weakly, Where is he?
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  5. - Top - End - #1025
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    Default Re: [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart (II)

    Pieter might have slept for twelve hours straight, had an accidental movement of his not sent a jolt of excruciating pain up his injured arm. He awoke with a groan and knew immediately he would not be going back to sleep. Sighing, he sat up, looked at the bandages Lothar had put on him, and set out to undo that sloppy job and do it properly; he would have to seek a qualified physician later, once they had reached civilization.

    Spoiler
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    Heal 57 (minus whatever penalty for using only one arm): (d100)[58]
    Fortune Point: (d100)[53]


    Leaving Lothar to deal with Illiiya, Pieter quietly left the inn and headed towards Ellie's home, taking in the state of the village as he walked. He absent-mindedly nodded to Ithelus as he passed him.

    He wanted to be out of here in an hour at most. The crows, which he had once welcomed as Ranald's messengers, were getting creepier and creepier every day. This morning they looked more hungry than mischievous.
    Spoiler
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    Running:
    Voyages of the Ghostlight (Risus)

    Playing:
    The Bloody Crown (WFRP) as Elsabeth Holt, rogue pyromancer and court wizard

    Quote Originally Posted by TheSummoner View Post
    Oh wow. I will never again underestimate [our characters'] ability to turn friendly conversation into a possible life or death situation.
    Quote Originally Posted by LeSwordfish View Post
    Ludo has a crowbar, if that helps.

  6. - Top - End - #1026
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    Default Re: [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart (II)

    The first door at which Pieter knocked to ask for Ellie gave him no reply. The second was the same. The third time, the door opened just a crack, an old man with a handkerchief pressed over his face craning his head around the edge.

    "Mff", he said. "Wrdyrwnt?"

    Pieter raised his hands - hand - to show he was unarmed, but the movement just seemed to make the man more suspicious. Explaining as simply and quickly as he could that he was just looking for Ellie, Pieter managed to get the man to point hastily at one of the cottages beyond the mill before the door slammed shut in his face.

    Walking down towards the cottage the old man had indicated, Pieter saw there were a handful of crows perching on the arms of the windmill - three on the left, four on the right. They turned their heads to follow him as he walked beneath them.

    Knocking again, Pieter waited. This time when the door opened, it was Arne who stood before him. The boy looked bone-weary, with black bags under his eyes. He was still in the same crumpled, mud-splattered clothes, and was holding a cudgel. When he saw it was Pieter, however, it became clear he had no intention to use it.
    Spoiler: My Games
    Show

    WFRP 2E - Tales of Perilous Adventure
    The Hour After Midnight
    The Lord of Lost Heart
    Ill Met By Morrslieb

    Dark Heresy 1E - Wake of the Byzantium
    Episodes: I, II, III, IV, V

    WFRP 2E - The Bloody Crown
    Threads: I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X

  7. - Top - End - #1027
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    Default Re: [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart (II)

    Pieter paused. He had not expected Arne to be the one to answer the door, but it made things more convenient.

    "Good morning," he said somberly. "Can I borrow a few minutes of your time and Ellie's? I just have a few things to say before I hit the road."
    Spoiler
    Show
    Running:
    Voyages of the Ghostlight (Risus)

    Playing:
    The Bloody Crown (WFRP) as Elsabeth Holt, rogue pyromancer and court wizard

    Quote Originally Posted by TheSummoner View Post
    Oh wow. I will never again underestimate [our characters'] ability to turn friendly conversation into a possible life or death situation.
    Quote Originally Posted by LeSwordfish View Post
    Ludo has a crowbar, if that helps.

  8. - Top - End - #1028
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    Default Re: [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart (II)

    Arne looked from side to side, not sure if Pieter was up to his city tricks.

    "Ellie's still sleeping," he said, his voice somewhere between a grunt and a mumble. "I'll listen t' what you've got to say."

    He didn't seem confrontational, but he didn't seem to keen on Pieter talking to Ellie either.
    Spoiler: My Games
    Show

    WFRP 2E - Tales of Perilous Adventure
    The Hour After Midnight
    The Lord of Lost Heart
    Ill Met By Morrslieb

    Dark Heresy 1E - Wake of the Byzantium
    Episodes: I, II, III, IV, V

    WFRP 2E - The Bloody Crown
    Threads: I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X

  9. - Top - End - #1029
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    Default Re: [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart (II)

    Pieter hesitated, then shook his head. "I'm sorry Arne, but it concerns you both, and I want Ellie to hear it firsthand so she can see how serious I am. Believe me, this is quite a bit more important than... anything personal between herself and I."


    OOC:
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    I had a much longer post written, but if you don't mind, I decided to save it for when I get to see Ellie.
    Last edited by -Sentinel-; 2013-07-07 at 05:50 PM.
    Spoiler
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    Running:
    Voyages of the Ghostlight (Risus)

    Playing:
    The Bloody Crown (WFRP) as Elsabeth Holt, rogue pyromancer and court wizard

    Quote Originally Posted by TheSummoner View Post
    Oh wow. I will never again underestimate [our characters'] ability to turn friendly conversation into a possible life or death situation.
    Quote Originally Posted by LeSwordfish View Post
    Ludo has a crowbar, if that helps.

  10. - Top - End - #1030
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    Default Re: [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart (II)

    Arne narrowed his eyes at Pieter, sure that he was up to something. It was clear, however, that the young villager couldn't work out what. Without another word, he slunk back into the interior of the cottage, and returned with Ellie in tow. She did indeed look as if she had just woken up.
    Spoiler: My Games
    Show

    WFRP 2E - Tales of Perilous Adventure
    The Hour After Midnight
    The Lord of Lost Heart
    Ill Met By Morrslieb

    Dark Heresy 1E - Wake of the Byzantium
    Episodes: I, II, III, IV, V

    WFRP 2E - The Bloody Crown
    Threads: I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X

  11. - Top - End - #1031
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    Default Re: [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart (II)

    Pieter paused to consider his words carefully. When at last he did speak, he went straight to the point: “You should leave this place. Both of you.”

    He looked intently at his dirty fingernails to avoid the gazes of Arne and Ellie. “I know it’s hard for you; you've spent your whole lives here. But I mean it. The lord is dead; the wealthiest man around is dead; the healer is dead; many of the strong, brave men you relied on to defend yourselves are dead. By the time the disease has run its course, there won’t be enough people left to pick up the pieces. This’ll be no place to lead a happy, successful life. You’re both young – unlike your elders, you can still start over... you can still adapt.”

    At last he looked up. His eyes were haunted. “There’s a... darkness to this place that wasn’t there when my friends and I first arrived. Or at least, wasn’t as obvious. The knight’s gone, but the shadow’s still there. I’m not even a superstitious man; a year ago I’d have rolled my eyes at anyone who told me things like that. Yet now I feel as if the forest is trying to swallow this village whole. Take my advice and leave Hohlesbruck behind as soon as you can. And try to convince others to do the same.”
    Spoiler
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    Running:
    Voyages of the Ghostlight (Risus)

    Playing:
    The Bloody Crown (WFRP) as Elsabeth Holt, rogue pyromancer and court wizard

    Quote Originally Posted by TheSummoner View Post
    Oh wow. I will never again underestimate [our characters'] ability to turn friendly conversation into a possible life or death situation.
    Quote Originally Posted by LeSwordfish View Post
    Ludo has a crowbar, if that helps.

  12. - Top - End - #1032
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    Default Re: [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart (II)

    Lothar squeezed Illiiya's arm. "His ma, Ill. She would've taken him to bury him, send him to Morr's gates." He bit his lip, looking a long time at the chewed-up ground, then pulled at her arm.

    "Come on. We aren't goin' to be welcome at that, an' there's still the corpse o' that horse to burn."
    Games:

    [WFRP] Ill Met By Morrslieb, as the increasingly-scarred Lothar Fischer.

    [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart, reprising Lothar Fischer.

    [WFRP] The Hour After Midnight as Lothar Fischer, former soldier.

    =

    January 19-25 2014 is GOBLIN WEEK!

    I did writings for it! Read them here!

    =

    sext: take my hand as the bombs fall. we will engrave our affectionate shadows on the walls in dush and ash, to last a thousand years. [my twitter]

  13. - Top - End - #1033
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    Default Re: [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart (II)

    Illiiya Jaelrae

    Illiiya gave an absent nod, Lothar's words seeming to comfort her only slightly. She gave no objection or fuss at his plans, mutely following him as he did what must be done.
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  14. - Top - End - #1034
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    Default Re: [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart (II)

    Ithelus sat on the wall and slowly packed his pipe, his hands shaking slightly. There was a new weaight around his neck,both mentally and physicaly. His hand absent mindedly brushed Ester's necklace as he contemplated the group's future. In the morning light it all felt like the past few days were a dream; some figment of his imagination influenced by Delbrez. Indeed, he almost felt like it was one of those mornings where he used to wake up with a blaring headache, and hungoverly tried to piece together exactly how everything the night before had happened.

    This was definately real though, despite the eerie silence hovering over the village. People had died here, others were dying at the very moment... Ithelus nodded to Pieter wordlessly. This village was dead but somehow the group had managed to surive.

    Even though you left Lothar and Illiiya when they needed you. You even left Pieter to the mercy of the Knight..


    Taking a drag from his pipe Ithelus eased himself off the wall and began to check through his belongings. He wanted out of this place, as soon as the others were ready.
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  15. - Top - End - #1035
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    Default Re: [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart (II)

    "Take my advice and leave Hohlesbruck behind as soon as you can. And try to convince others to do the same.”
    Ellie and Arne looked at each other. Arne looked reluctant; Ellie looked shaken.

    "People are sick," said Arne. "This is our home."

    "Where can we go?" asked Ellie. It struck Pieter that the girl might never have left her village before.

    By the Faulebrands' house, Lothar was setting to work on the body of Validus. Removing the horse's steel barding was no small task - Lothar was no cavalryman, and soon resorted to cutting through the straps rather than fiddling with the complicated belts and buckles that seemed to hold it all in place. Coming off one by one, the vaned plates of metal soon added up to a heap that would have fetched a pretty price from an ironmonger - if they could carry them that far. The saddle looked like it would be worth a bit too, with a high horn and flaking traces of ornamentation on the stirrups. Attached to its side was a small saddlebag that sounded like it had some loose items inside.

    Even stripped down, there was something unnerving about the body of the huge black horse. The crows had not been at it, and its reddened eyes were still open. Trying to drag it a little way away from the door, Lothar managed to pull it about a foot through the sucking mud. The thing was heavy.

    OOC:
    Spoiler
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    • Where do you want to burn the horse?
      • Where will you gather fuel?
      • Who will you enlist to help move it?
    • Do you want to investigate what's inside the saddlebag?
    • For Ithelus: did you take anything from the manor?
    Spoiler: My Games
    Show

    WFRP 2E - Tales of Perilous Adventure
    The Hour After Midnight
    The Lord of Lost Heart
    Ill Met By Morrslieb

    Dark Heresy 1E - Wake of the Byzantium
    Episodes: I, II, III, IV, V

    WFRP 2E - The Bloody Crown
    Threads: I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X

  16. - Top - End - #1036
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    Default Re: [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart (II)

    "Where can we go?" asked Ellie.

    "Anywhere," said Pieter softly. "I've traveled far and wide, and I've seen many places much like Hohlesbruck, except without all the... unpleasantness we've just been through. Just ask Lothar about the fishing village he's from, in Nordland; I'm sure what he describes won't sound unfamiliar to you."

    He turned to Arne. "I understand and respect why you'd want to stay. But what really ties you to this place? The walls and buildings, or the people? The people, I presume. Well, let me be brutally honest: in the following weeks, if this truly is the Rot, you'll lose many ties to Hohlesbruck pretty fast."

    He began to turn away. "Choice's yours," he said, addressing both of them. "If you do choose to leave though, the earlier the better. Believe me, most of the outside world isn't half as scary as this place has been lately."
    Spoiler
    Show
    Running:
    Voyages of the Ghostlight (Risus)

    Playing:
    The Bloody Crown (WFRP) as Elsabeth Holt, rogue pyromancer and court wizard

    Quote Originally Posted by TheSummoner View Post
    Oh wow. I will never again underestimate [our characters'] ability to turn friendly conversation into a possible life or death situation.
    Quote Originally Posted by LeSwordfish View Post
    Ludo has a crowbar, if that helps.

  17. - Top - End - #1037
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    Default Re: [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart (II)

    Lothar stared down at the horse, deafeated. "Sod it," he muttered, loud enough to hear. He hefted the saddlebag, staring down at it for a long moment, hesitant, before opening the flap and seeing what it contained.

    =

    He closed the bag, chewing on his lips. Sighing, he stepped back from the corpse of the horse-thing and shouted. "Hey! Hohlesbruck! You..." He trained off for a moment, awkwardly, as his voiced echoed among the near-deserted village. " ..er. You should burn this... thing."

    His voice trailed away. There was hardly anyone to hear him, and insufficient numbers to do what he demanded of them. The doom of this village was more than one scarecrow horse would bring, or its removal prevent.

    Spoiler
    Show
    1) You know what, never mind. That... that isn't going to happen. If anyone does respond, Lothar will help. Fuel could come from any mostly-abandoned but not plague-riddled house that has a dry firewood store.

    2) Yes. I've left a beat panel.
    Games:

    [WFRP] Ill Met By Morrslieb, as the increasingly-scarred Lothar Fischer.

    [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart, reprising Lothar Fischer.

    [WFRP] The Hour After Midnight as Lothar Fischer, former soldier.

    =

    January 19-25 2014 is GOBLIN WEEK!

    I did writings for it! Read them here!

    =

    sext: take my hand as the bombs fall. we will engrave our affectionate shadows on the walls in dush and ash, to last a thousand years. [my twitter]

  18. - Top - End - #1038
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    Default Re: [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart (II)

    Lothar

    Opening the saddle-bag, Lothar tipped its contents out into his hand.

    There was a clump of what might have been letters or dispatch papers, before the damp had got into the bag. Water had made the cheap parchment stick together into one ink-stained mass, its writing washed away. A few loose schillings and coppers were rolling about at the bottom of the bag, and with them something else - a plain pewter locket, of the kind you could buy in any town.

    Opening it, he saw it contained a painted miniature of a young woman's face. She was strikingly beautiful, with pale skin, dark hair, and a small, faraway smile. Lothar had to superimpose the pock-marks of the pox in his mind before he could recognise the face as Esther's.

    No-one was coming in response to his shout. Only the crows replied, their raucous jabbering echoing through the trees.


    1

    Pieter

    Well, let me be brutally honest: in the following weeks, if this truly is the Rot, you'll lose many ties to Hohlesbruck pretty fast."
    Pieter thought he saw a flash of anger cross Arne's face - but it was difficult for the boy to take it out on him, not with him standing with his arm trussed in a sling. Instead he resorted to the sullen silence he did best.

    "There's people here that need caring for," said Ellie. She sounded far from certain. "But... I'll think about what you said."
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  19. - Top - End - #1039
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    Default Re: [WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart (II)

    "Do it. You may start seeing things my way all too soon." The initiate made to leave, then paused. "I don't suppose either of you has heard of Ricard Talberg since last night?"
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    Oh wow. I will never again underestimate [our characters'] ability to turn friendly conversation into a possible life or death situation.
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    Ludo has a crowbar, if that helps.

  20. - Top - End - #1040
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    Ellie looked at Arne who shrugged.

    "I think he ran off into the woods," Ellie said. She clasped her arms close to her body and peered out of the door at the dark treeline. "Who knows where he's got to."

    In the trees, the crows croaked. Arne made a face.

    "The Drakwald ain't no place for folks who don't know the path."
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  21. - Top - End - #1041
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    Pieter sighed. He and his friends had risked their lives to save that idiot from the knight; he would hate for it to have been all in vain. He desperately wanted to have succeeded at one thing, at least, over the past few days.

    "Well, if he comes back, do make a point of reminding him that a miller's son was braver than him. Or that you were braver than him, for that matter. Take care."

    With a sour smile, he waved at Ellie and Arne and began walking away.


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    Pieter is pretty much done in Hohlesbruck, unless someone else still has something to tell him before the final update.
    Last edited by -Sentinel-; 2013-07-09 at 10:28 PM.
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    Quote Originally Posted by TheSummoner View Post
    Oh wow. I will never again underestimate [our characters'] ability to turn friendly conversation into a possible life or death situation.
    Quote Originally Posted by LeSwordfish View Post
    Ludo has a crowbar, if that helps.

  22. - Top - End - #1042
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    Lothar closed the locket and slipped it into his pouch. He looked across the carcass of the thing to Illiiya, and tilted his head in the direction of the Heartless Man. "Come on, Ill. We need to go."

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    I'd like to leave the locket at the shrine of Shallya but I don't need a back-and-forth for that if you don't need one. We can just fold it into the 'stuff happens, they leave town'.
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    Illiiya Jaelrae

    It was our fault. All of it, our fault. We promised her, and we failed.

    The sound of Leopold's betrayed cry rung out in her head. It had never truly stopped. Everything they had done had been for naught. This was no Delberz... there they could at least claim victory, even if it was at great cost. Here there was just loss and nothing but. If Delberz this was not, Gavinsburough it was. A place that she would be haunted by for so long as she drew breath. Only this time, she remembered the all of it.

    It took her some time to note that Lothar was calling her. She came to his side to leave, still silent and somber. Bedraggled and defeated, she knew not what to do from here, save follow.
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    The four travellers met at the crossroads, and went down to the river together. Behind them, the village was so still that it was difficult to recognise it as the same bustling place they had seen when they had first come over the hill on the road from Rosche. There was no-one in the streets. Nothing moved in the fields but the slow sway of the rye. The charred beams of the Flychers' ruined house jutted up from the centre of the village like a rotten tooth, and the white crosses of infection marked the doors of the cottages like the scars of a pox.

    Up on the common, a few shapes were moving. An old man and a small boy, no older than ten, were hauling a handcart up the muddy slope, where a shovel had been rested against the bole of the hanging tree. On the back of the cart, two lumpen shapes had been stacked like logs of firewood. They were wrapped in white sheets, but Ithelus' keen eyes could make out the blackened toes that peeked from beneath the shrouds.

    Turning away, he followed the others over the bridge. With the babbling waters of the Taalsbruck at their back, Lothar laid a small pewter locket inside Shallya's shrine, one last offering for the goddess of mercy. Then, together, they turned away. The road was waiting.



    1

    Ricard ran between the gnarled trees, thorns whipping at his shins. His fine clothes were torn, his breeches still wet and clinging to his skin from where he had splashed through the muddy river. He'd searched and searched for his bolted horse, but the animal was nowhere to be seen. He'd looked for its tracks, but he'd never put much effort into mastering that skill. Even hunting outside Talabheim, he'd always run with his father's dogs. Now he wished he'd paid more attention.

    The eastern sky had begun to pale some hours ago, and now the sun was riding high above the trees. He was exhausted, and he was lost, but he knew he had to keep running. He'd bring the army back to Hohlesbruck, that was what he told himself. He'd ride to Middenheim to bring the witch hunters and the priests of Sigmar, and they would bury that thing's ashes so deep that it could never claw its way back out.

    Stumbling to the bottom of a shallow hollow, he looked left and right, trying to decide which way to go. The trees were so thick here that he could have been twenty feet from a good broad road, and had no idea.

    "Boy!" came a cry. He looked up to his right, and saw a small figure standing on the ridge there. "Hey lad! Up here!"

    It was a old man with a kindly face and a bushy white beard, leaning on a rusty shovel. If there was something peculiar about his voice, or his hands, Ricard took no notice. He scrambled up the slope towards the promise of a friendly face. Nearly at the top, he reached out for the hand the old man was offering him - and found himself thrusting his hand into a thicket of thorns.

    There was no-one there. Just a knotted heap of brambles that only the most fatigue-addled eyes could have mistaken for a man. Yelping and cursing as he lost his balance, Ricard rolled down the other side of the slope, stones and roots ripping at his jacket. Stumbling to his feet, he looked around.

    He was standing on the stony banks of a stream. In the trees all around, black crows were sitting like hunchbacked monks, looking down on him in a circle of greedy eyes. And in the centre of the circle, an armoured figure sat on a mossy boulder, slowly sharpening a long, long sword.

    He tried to run, but his legs had turned to jelly. He stumbled and fell, and the figure rose and walked towards him.

    "Please," he whimpered, "please - don't kill me."

    The knight loomed over him, and stood for a moment in silence. Then, he offered Ricard his hand.

    "I'm not going to."

    Amazed, Ricard hesitantly took the hand that was offered. Pulling himself to his feet, he tried to brush the fresh mud from his clothes.

    "But... but why did you..."

    "I have learned the error of my ways," said the knight. He no longer seemed to be looking at Ricard. Instead, he was unbuckling his gauntlet. Ricard watched with a horrified fascination, like a rabbit mesmerised by a snake.

    "I have caused you much suffering, when you were expecting only joy. I believe I owe you a wedding gift."

    The gauntlet came away with an unpleasant sucking noise. What was left beneath was only half a hand - across the other half, the skin had darkened to the colour of a bruise, and the flesh beneath was black with putrefaction. Watery pus wept from the necrotised muscles, and under the sloughing meat where the base of the thumb met the palm, Ricard could see a tiny gleam of bone.

    The knight pulled his sword across his palm, and the blade came away coated with a thin film of decay. Ricard turned to flee, but the rotting hand flashed out and clamped around his wrist. Pulled off-balance, he felt the knight's grip tighten, squeezing until his fingers were forced to open.

    Slowly, carefully, the knight drew the edge of his sword across Ricard's hand. Waiting until he saw blood well from the shallow cut, he released his grip, letting Ricard stagger away.

    "Middenheim," he said, raising the sword and pointing upstream, "is that way."

    With the mocking laughter of the crows chasing at his heels, Ricard Talberg turned and ran.





    DESPAIR ALL YE NATIONS, DENY NOT THAT WE'RE SICK,
    FOR OUR BLOOD IS LIKE WATER WHERE ONCE IT WAS THICK.
    AND OUR MINDS HAVE GROWN LEADEN, OUR BODIES GROWN WEAK,
    AND VENOM POURS FROM OUR LIPS WHENEVER WE SPEAK.

    DESPAIR ALL YE NATIONS, FOR THE TIME DRAWS APACE,
    WHEN THE ROT OF THE CYNIC SHALL STEAL OUR GOOD GRACE.
    AND OUR SWEETEST OF DREAMS SHALL FADE TO LOST HOPE,
    OUR PRIDE AND OUR ARROGANCE, OUR NOOSE AND OUR ROPE.

    DESPAIR ALL YE NATIONS, THERE'S NO HOPE FOR US NOW,
    FOR WE MADE THIS MONSTER, PLACED A CROWN ON HIS BROW.
    HE FED ON OUR APATHY, OUR PAIN MADE HIM SWELL
    WE GAVE HIM DOMINION, HE GIVES US HIS HELL.


    - Extracted from the works of the playwright and poet, Maximilian von Hohenstausen.
    Executed on charges of heresy and subversion, I.C. 2515
    Last edited by LCP; 2013-07-12 at 08:37 AM.
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    WFRP 2E - Tales of Perilous Adventure
    The Hour After Midnight
    The Lord of Lost Heart
    Ill Met By Morrslieb

    Dark Heresy 1E - Wake of the Byzantium
    Episodes: I, II, III, IV, V

    WFRP 2E - The Bloody Crown
    Threads: I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X

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