[WFRP] The Bloody Crown

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

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As he examines the state of his wounds Adelbert wonders if that idiot sawbones had actually made things worse. Regardless, he would be none too unhappy to leave this awful place.

"As soon as Sieghard returns we should leave," Adelbert says to Brand and Wolfgang. He looks at the heavily wounded Brand and hesitates. "Think you can travel safely Brand? You might be better off going back to Elmridge with Jager's reinforcements. Safety in numbers."

[LCP]

Sieghard

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Looking over the items Sieghard had picked out with a practiced eye, Thibault named a price and refused to budge from it. Taking the mercenary's money, he handed the scraps of armour over, pocketing the glinting coins.

"Here's hoping you do not need them, hey?"

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

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(While debating the price)

"Fine. 13 Crowns for both, but only if I'm satisfied with the fit."

Sieghard puts on the skullcap and straps on the leggings. He makes a few minor adjustments and then, happy enough with the new armor, gives Thibault his pay.

Sieghard also picks up half a week's worth of dry rations and 10 yards of rope.*

He then goes to find the rest.

*(In retrospect, we probably didn't need to use the full 10 yards we started with on ONE GUY. Just gonna have to be more conservative with it in the future)

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

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Adelbert painfully removed his bandages, dumbfounded at the sheer shoddiness of Ortholf's work. He would have expected a millitary sawbones of all people to have experience with dressing wounds but apparently not. As he stared in disbelief at the nasty scar on his tigh a sudden flash of anger ran through the scribe's mind. It seemed like every moment since he had set foot in this awful country events had conspired against him. Well he'd had enough.

Wincing he washed the cut on his forehead and set out to locate a likely looking soldier or two. Finding a couple playing dice in one of the barracks, he beckoned them aside.

"I want Ortholf to take a beating or two; don't kill him or do any permanent damage but I think he deserves to be roughed up. I'll give you a Karl for your troubles - and to hold your tongues."

[LCP]

Adelbert

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The two soldiers looked up at him, and Adelbert felt a sense of creeping discomfort under their gaze. These were rough men, and it seemed dazzlingly clear in that moment that if they took exception to his request it might be Adelbert, not Ortholf, on the wrong end of a beating.

"Ortholf?" asked one of them. "What'd he do to you?"

He noticed the wound on Adelbert's leg.

"He don't mean no harm."

The second soldier nudged him sharply in the ribs with the back of an elbow - a signal for him to be quiet. Looking up at Adelbert, the second soldier held one grubby hand palm-out for the promised coin.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

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Adelbert stood back stiffly, hand dropping to the hilt of his smallsword in case he needed to draw it. He was beginning to realise what a mistake he'd made and frankly he didn't trust these brutes or like their expressions.

"Forget it. Deals off; holding your tongues included not asking questions." With a dark look he turned to move away, keeping his hand on his weapon in case the soldiers got any ideas. If they didn't stop him he'd been getting out of Hartmut's Fall as soon as possible.

[LCP]

Adelbert

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The soldier who had silenced the other watched Adelbert go without rising from his seat. As Adelbert left, he heard the man call after him in a laconic drawl.

"Safe travels."

It seemed far more threatening than those two words usually were.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

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Adelbert stopped and snorted, glancing back in contempt. "They haven't been yet, but I'm still here." He lets those words linger a moment before taking his leave.

Once back with Brand and Wolfgang he advises they go immediately, deciding against talking the others into going after Ortholf; punishing the sawbones will have to wait.

[LCP]

Adelbert, Brand, Sieghard & Wolfgang

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As the sun rose high enough to send its rays slanting over the top of the high curtain wall, the group reconvened at the edge of the dusty courtyard behind the gatehouse. Brand too had paid a visit to Thibault the armourer, and was testing the fit of a couple of freshly-acquired leather armour. The leather was new and creaked a little as it moved, not yet being worn in.

In the centre of the yard, a troop of ten men were assembling. Most wore some combination of mail and boiled leather, their heads protected by kettle helmets. Five carried long bows, while the other five had heavy spears slung over their shoulders. Two of them were leading an immense, coal-black stallion by the reins. Looking like it might have been sired by a Bretonnian warhorse, the beast champed and stamped its hooves, following its masters with a dangerous, ill-tempered reluctance. Brand noticed that though many of the men had heavy packs, none of them had tried to make the horse carry any of the weight.

Squinting up at the morning sun, the man at the head of the column turned back to the others.

“Right lads,” he called. “It's a good day's march to Elmridge, and Eugen Jager don't look kindly on dawdlers. Arms at the ready, quick march!”

Falling into something resembling a formation, the men trooped out of the gate. The two at the back lagged behind a little, practically having to drag their huge horse behind them.

Following them as far as the gatehouse bridge, Sieghard watched their dust trail recede into the rocky labyrinth to the west. To the east, the road stretched out to Alvarran.

Time to get moving.

---

1

The road to Alvarran was better-kept and broader than the road from Elmridge. Wide enough to take a cart, in places the ruts of wheels could be seen in the hard-baked mud. It wound like a snake between the rocks, taking the lowest path and steering clear of the sharpest ridges.

It was a long walk in the hot sun before the rocks began to grow smaller, but no more boulders came crashing down on the travellers' heads. Like the trees thinning at the edge of a forest, the Black Karst died down into the ground, looming crags becoming low outcrops, then scattered boulders. The scraggly trees that clung to the sides of the rocks grew for a while in greater abundance, gathering in tens rather than ones and twos – then they too died away, giving place to rolling hummocks of grass, gorse and bracken. A stray sheep watched the travellers pass with stupid, placid eyes, standing on top of a fallen stone like some incongruous woolen statue.

Leaving the Karst behind them, a wall of broken rock, they headed out into the pasture-lands. The terrain was still bumpy and shallow-soiled, poor land for crops – the occasional sheep was the only sign of agriculture they saw. Still, it was a world apart from the forbidding hills beyond Elmridge and the barren maze of the Karst. Sometimes, from the top of the taller hillocks, Sieghard could make out a smoky smudge to the east that could only be Alvarran.

The day was drawing to a close when they saw the homestead up on the rise. Perhaps two hundred yards north of the road, there was one large roundhouse, flanked by covered pens for animals and ringed by an old wooden palisade. The palisade was broken down in places, and looked as if no-one had troubled to repair it in some time. On the flank of the shallow rise beside it, the tiny figure of a shepherd was just visible, a darting black-and-white dog driving a cloud of sheep across the undulating plain.

There were still a good two or three hours' march left in the day, and a later finish would mean an earlier arrival in Alvarran tomorrow. This was the first habitation they had seen so close to the road, however – they were unlikely to find another before sunset. The shelter of a stranger's roof would probably be a lot warmer than sleeping under the stars.

---

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Elsa

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The day dragged on – Elsa assumed it was day – and no-one came. Elsa wondered if they had forgotten her, if she would be left to rot down in this cellar until she died of thirst.

Loosening her bonds enough to manipulate her clothes, she managed to pee in the corner without disaster, relieving the screaming of her bladder. That did nothing for her parched throat or growling stomach, however, and still no-one appeared. A few muffled calls brought no help. Her thirst grew worse and worse, until she began to feel weak and silver sparks swam in front of her eyes whenever she stood up.

It felt as if an eternity had passed when she finally heard a sound, filtering down through the trapdoor. It was faint, but she thought she could hear shouting voices, and something else – perhaps the sounds of a struggle? Just there, she thought she heard a scream.

The sounds died down, and were followed swiftly by the loud thud, thud, thud of booted feet approaching the cellar. The trapdoor was flung open, and a bloody figure was pitched down into the darkness with her, nearly knocking her off her feet.

It was Flitch. The man was conscious and breathing, but he had been cut about the arms, and the beginning of a massive black eye had swollen the left side of his face. Standing above the open hatch, two strange men in chainmail and iron helmets looked derisively down at him.

“Here, boss,” said one of them. “There's another one down here.”

“Of course there bloody is,” came another voice from out of sight – Jager's voice. The thud of boots again, and Jager's face came into view. He carried himself with an air of undisputed authority. “I told you didn't I? The witch girl who was making trouble.”

The man who had spoken first wrinkled his nose, sniffing the air. “She don't smell too good.”

“I don't expect she does,” said Jager. He looked down at Elsa with a contemplative air. “Any of our lot hurt?”

“Nah,” said the first man. “Ulli's got a nice new bruise, is all. They've got no bottle, this lot.”

Jager grunted in acknowledgement, still looking down at Elsa. There were five seconds or so where no-one spoke, the two men waiting on whatever Jager was thinking through.

“Get her out of there,” he said, nodding to the man who had spoken. He turned to the other. “You, go get Arnulf and Fauchard. Tell them I've got a new job for them.”

“New job?”

“Taking this one to the duke.” He pointed at Elsa. “If she is what she says she is, he'll want to see. And if she is what she says she is, we don't want any of the villagers getting clever ideas about setting her free, either.” He paused. “I want her out of the village before sundown.”

“We been marchin' all day, sir,” said the second man, quietly.

“Oh, that so? When you signed up to be a soldier, they tell you it was all feather beds and roses, did they?” Jager snarled. “Go get Arnulf and Fauchard, or you can take her instead.”

The man gave something approximating a salute, and hurried away. Following Jager's orders, the first man reached down to haul Elsa up out of the cellar.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

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(Not long after leaving Hartmut's fall)

Sieghard takes a good look at Adelbert and Brand.

"You two look like hell. I thought you were going to see Marat's surgeon."

Sieghard keeps his crossbow ready and loaded as they travel. He's quite relieved that it isn't needed.

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Sieghard is fine with either stopping now or continuing on.

Are there any more goats and if so, can Sieghard try to shoot one for food? I don't imagine him needing any special skill for that even if Brand would have to use outdoor survival to prepare it for eating.

Also, Sieghard can also be convinced to part with his Healing Draught if Adelbert wants it. Just keep the conversation going and Sieghard will bring it up. Wont help Brand since it doesn't work on heavily wounded people, but it'll bring Adelbert up to 10/11 wounds

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

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Before leaving Hartmut's Fall:

Adelbert stopped to buy some dry rations for the road ahead. The salted meat and biscuits looked as tough as old leather and almost as appetising but presumably they were better than whatever moss and lizards were available in the the Karst. Handing out 6 schillings for the food he carefully wrapped them up along with his book and other possessions before setting off.

After leaving Hartmut's Fall:

The scribe was daydreaming of owning a horse like Jager's until Sieghard brought him back to reality with his question.

Adelbert grimaced at the mention of the camp sawbones, feeling his tigh and forehead begin to ache again. "I guess you could say he didn't live up to his reputation." And he'll get away it too, the scribe thought to himself sourly, the images of the soldiers he'd tried to enlist springing to mind. You better hope we don't meet again Ortholf.

With a sigh Adelbert tries to rein in his temper. "At least you got something out of that awful place." He pointed out Sieghard's armour. "I suppose I should have looked, but I'll see what they have in Alvarran."

As they come upon the homestead he hesitates, not having good memories of their previous encounters with the locals so far. On the other hand a roof was a roof. "I think we should consider stopping here. Spending the night under the stars might be romantic but snakes, wolves and frostbite are about as unromantic as you can get."

If the others agree he hails the shepherd.

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I think we should save the Healing Draught for when Brand does make it out of the Heavily Wounded Stage.

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa

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Really, Flitch. What were you expecting?

Elsa pretended to doze while the men talked about her. When one of them forced her to her feet, she did not resist. It bruised her ego to play along, but until an opportunity presented itself, she had to look as inoffensive as possible.

You'll be repaid for this, Jager. Sooner or later.

[C.J.Geringer]

Brand if ok with hailing the local.

[LCP]

Elsa

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Pulled rudely out of the cellar, Elsa was dragged out of the inn and into the open air. The sun was already sinking in the west - they had left her down there the whole damn day.

Armed men were thronging the centre of the village - Elsa could count seven of them from where she stood. Five with bows stood around the raised mound of Gant's longhouse, while men with spears were hauling what looked like a dead body out of sight. Here and there, the white, owlish faces of villagers peered fearfully out, sheltering in the shadows of their homes.

Two men - one spearman and one bowman - approached, summoned by Jager's message. These must be Arnulf and Fauchard.

"This one's for the duke. I want her taken to Alvarran without delay."

The two men looked tired, but knew better than to complain - their comrade had already warned them of their orders. They nodded obediently to Jager. He gestured to the elder's hut.

"Take what food you need. If you're not gone before sundown, you'll have me to answer to." He gave Elsa a parting glare. "And make sure she keeps that gag on. Says she's a witch."

"What - a real one?" said Arnulf, a sudden look of surprise crossing his face.

"His grace'll soon find that out," said Jager, with a certain grim satisfaction. "Jump to it, lads."

Taking Elsa in hand, the two men made for Gant's hovel to assemble the provisions for their journey. Elsa could see they were tired - but however weary the soldiers were, they had probably had something to eat and drink in the last twenty-four hours. That meant they were almost certainly in a better state than her.

OOC:

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Perception check for the soldier who hauls Elsa out of the cellar to notice the state of the ropes binding her hands: (1d100)[63]

---

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Adelbert, Brand, Sieghard & Wolfgang

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At Adelbert's halloo-ing and waving, the shepherd seemed to raise his head. The racing dog raced in a new direction, and the sheep began to drift their way, kept in sight of their watchful master.

Coming to a halt around twenty yards from the road, the shepherd looked down at the men on the road from the vantage point of a rocky hummock. He looked young - barely more than sixteen, if that. Short, dark hair laid flat against his head, and his smooth skin had the deep tan of someone who spent most of their life outdoors.

"Who're you?" he called down.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

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"Travellers on the way to Alvarran," Adelbert called back, truthfully. "We come from Elmridge and got attacked by bandits along the way; if you could give us shelter for the night we'd gladly pay."

[LCP]

Adelbert, Brand, Sieghard & Wolfgang

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The shepherd boy looked at them long and hard. It was impossible for him not to have noticed Sieghard's crossbow, the way the mercenary carried it loaded in his hands. Calculations were evidently playing out slowly in the youth's head.

"Show us your coin!" he called back.

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa

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He gave Elsa a parting glare. "And make sure she keeps that gag on. Says she's a witch."

Elsa did not react to that. Better keep the soldiers a little afraid of her, even when bound and gagged - she had serious doubts about their professionalism, and Jager had given them no specific instructions to treat her well. She was glad none of those cretins had noticed that her hands were almost free: if they tried anything ungentlemanly in the wilderness, she could at least oppose resistance.

She followed the soldiers, a deliberate expression of boredom on her face.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

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Adelbert Schreiber slips his hand into his money purse and withdraws a shilling, throwing it to the youth. "A silver for the audience, and more if we can stay the night. Extra if there is a meal and ale in it."

[LCP]

Adelbert, Brand, Wolfgang & Sieghard

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The boy caught the schilling in nimble hands, turning it over to examine it. Seemingly satisfied with its authenticity, he slipped it into some hidden pocket. Whistling to his dog, he jerked his head in the direction of the homestead up on the mound, motioning for the four men to follow.

Inside, the round house was dark and smoky, filled with the fug of a firepit that occupied the centre of the floor. Sheepskins hung on the walls and carpeted the floor, the wool of the skins nearer the fire yellow and crinkled. There were no interior walls or subdivisions - all of the house was one big, circular room.

Half a dozen young men and women - mostly women - were gathered in the shadows around the fire. Some were scraping hides, others were scouring wool in a big tin tub. A girl a few years older than the young shepherd boy was standing over the fire, stirring a black iron pot of what looked like mutton stew.

Besides her, the individual sitting closest to the fire was almost the most remarkable. Noticeably older and broader than the other inhabitants of the place, he sat in a chair lashed together from sticks and crooked branches. His left foot was wrapped in so many bandages that it seemed twice the size of his right, and rested on a short stool in front of the fire.

As soon as they entered, the shepherd boy ran straight to the man in the chair, murmuring something in his ear. Looking up at the newcomers as he listened, the man levered himself up to sit a little straighter, gesturing expansively for Adelbert and the others to come inside.

"Come in! Come in," he said. "Travellers on the road, eh? More than welcome, sir, more than welcome." He motioned for them to take a place by the fire. "My name's Donar, and this is my home. Come, tell me yours."

---

1

Elsa

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The two men took more than they seemed to need from Gant's already-ransacked supplies. Just the sight of the food made Elsa's empty stomach twinge, but the soldiers gave no sign of noticing her discomfort. They certainly were quick in their preparations to leave: it seemed mere minutes before they were leading Elsa towards the edge of the forest and the winding promise of the forest road.

"Good man, Fauchard," said Jager, bidding them goodbye. "You get her to the duke in good time, maybe there'll be a promotion in it for you."

The wiry archer's ears seemed to prick up at Jager's words. Snapping off the smartest salute he could manage, he and the spearman turned and marched Elsa away. The woods rose up around them, and the village receded into the background as the sun slowly sank down.

OOC:

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Is Elsa plannng on attempting any daring escapes? Trying to work out how far I should move you along, would be good to have a guide on where to break off.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

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Adelbert gave a weary smile of thanks and took a place by the fire, affably nodding at the girl before turning to Donar. "Thank you Herr Donar. My name is Adelbert and I hail from the Empire. You don't know how long it has been to see a properly friendly face. The tavern keep in Elmridge looked like he has never smiled a day in his life."

He brushed aside a few strands of hair on his forehead to reveal his slowly healing bruise to Donar. "Got hit by a rock on the road a couple of days back; it looks bad but you should have seen what my head did to the rock."

His stomach rumbled at the smell of mutton stew but Adelbert ignored it for now hoping Donar would make the offer to feed them.

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa

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"You get her to the duke in good time, maybe there'll be a promotion in it for you."

With the men tired from marching, Elsa had been praying they would go at a leisurely pace. Jager's suggestion of a promotion if they were swift dashed that hope. She was not sure how long she could hold their pace before she collapsed from thirst, but she would be damned if she asked anything of them. A Bright Wizard, even a rogue one, did not beg.

As they walked, Elsa just stared ahead, her back straight, her amber eyes half closed but alert. She did not fancy her chances to escape, even if she untied her hands and removed her gag: her magic would hardly help. Until the time or place was right, all she could do was keep her ears sharp and occasionally get a feel of the Winds around her.

OOC:

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Is Elsa planning on attempting any daring escapes? Trying to work out how far I should move you along, would be good to have a guide on where to break off.

It all depends on the circumstances, of course. Describe how things are over the next few hours.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

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Sieghard carefully unloaded his crossbow before following the boy. As he entered, the smell of stew caught his interest. The women even moreso, though he did his best not to make it obvious.

At the mention of Elmridge, he scoffed.

"Wouldn't be surprised if it was one of them that pushed the rocks. They already showed they weren't above attacking travelers."

He turns to Donar.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Herr Donar. My name is Sieghard."

[LCP]

Adelbert, Brand, Sieghard & Wolfgang

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"Ah, they're a queer lot up that way," said Donar, shifting his weight in his chair. "Neither valley folk nor hill folk, that's the way I see it." He motioned to the shepherd boy, who came forward to stoke the fire. "You do hear some funny stories about them and that forest."

"Well, master Adelbert, I promise we won't try to drop any rocks on you. This is my house, and I say you're welcome to our fire and our food for the night. We've got more than enough."

Though Donar seemed merry enough, Sieghard noticed that many of the younger people lurking around the edges of the hall watched them with a suspicious, fearful regard. Though they were outnumbered at least two to one by the inhabitants of Donar's hall, the party were significantly better-armed. More than that, most of the peasants here looked too young or weak to stand an even chance - more than half of them were girls, and the only one older than Sieghard was Donar himself. Though the smell of woodsmoke masked it, there was a faint rotten scent rising from the man's bandaged foot - it seemed unlikely that the master of the hall could walk, let alone fight.

---

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Elsa

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Fauchard and Arnulf set a brisk pace. Arnulf walked behind Elsa, driving her at the same speed, while Fauchard ranged ahead, keeping keen eyes on the trees. The archer kept his bow held loosely in one hand - whether on the lookout for bandits or an opportunistic shot at a passing rabbit, who could say?

Elsa struggled to keep up, Arnulf shoving her roughly when she stumbled. Her throat felt like it was coated with sandpaper and glue, and the dust of the road did nothing to soothe the pangs of thirst. Marching made her light-headed, and her limbs felt weak.

When they were perhaps an hour or two outside Elmridge - it all seemed to blur together - Fauchard raised a hand for his companions to stop. Elsa tried to see what he had seen, but if there was anything there, her eyes were not as keen as the archer's, and the night was quickly growing dark.

"That's far enough for tonight," he said. "We don't want to be walking the Elmwood at midnight, and I want to sleep some time this week." Rubbing his eye with a grimy knuckle, he pointed with the tip of his bow to a hollow between the trees. "That'll do for a camp."

"It's going to get cold," grunted Arnulf, his voice deeper and rougher around the edges than Fauchard's. He was a big man; you could have fit two of Elsa's arms inside one of his.

"Then make a fire," sighed Fauchard. "No, no, never mind - I'll do it. You watch her. Check she's still tied up properly. We don't want her getting loose in the night."

Muttering something to himself in another language, the archer headed into the nearby woods. Towing Elsa off the road like a parent dragging a reluctant child, Arnulf made to inspect her bindings.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

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"Forest didn't seem any different than any other I've seen."

He replies, skeptical of any of the nonsense about Elmridge or the forest.

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(Not counting us, how many people are there in the room that Sieghard can see?)

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa

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Perfect.

No more need to play the obedient little prisoner, since they would see soon enough that she was almost untied. Still, it took Elsa more effort than she expected to get a hand free, and by the time she did, she had lost the element of surprise. She tore off her gag and finally gulped a breath of fresh air.

[RossN]

Adelbert Schreiber

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"Your hospitality is appreciated, Herr Donar." Adelbert smiled in genuine gratitude. "So are the people of Elmridge from somewhere else? Or have they always just been a people apart?" The scribe's scholarly interest had been raised by Donar. A sudden tremor of excitement flashed through him: could he about to stumble across evidence of the mythical Varagoths?

[LCP]

Adelbert, Brand, Sieghard & Wolfgang

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Donar frowned.

"I don't rightly know," he said. "People come from all over these days. But they've always lived on the edge. Up in the hills," - he made a gesture with one meaty hand - "that's the hill folk, and you don't want to cross them. Raiders and savages, the lot. Down here, in the valley, we's more respectable. We got the proper tongue and proper gods." He shook his head. "Livin' on the border, there's always going to be a bit of... mixing. You hear funny things sometimes, about the Elmridge lot making offerings an' that to the forest. Maybe some of the hill folk have rubbed off on 'em."

Keeping quiet while the man spoke, Sieghard made a careful count. Including Donar and the shepherd boy, there were eight people in the hall, barring themselves.

---

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Elsa

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As soon as Elsa pulled her hand free, she heard Arnulf shout. The next thing she knew, the big man was lunging at her, trying to tackle her to the ground. Elsa twisted to one side, and he charged against empty air.

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Initiative

Donar - (1d10+30)[33]
Elsa - (1d10+29)[30]

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa

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There was a beat as Elsa reasserted the situation. She had been hoping to take down the soldier with a sleeping spell and get away before the archer knew anything was wrong, but that plan was already in tatters. She did not like her odds against two armed men.

"Whoa, mister, I... uh... haven't had anything to drink since yesterday," she managed through parched lips, swallowing her pride. "I'm sure you don't wanna have to carry me tomorrow."


OOC:

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Fighting is already over. I hope things will go my way sometime.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

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"Offerings?"

Sieghard asks, his attention returned to the conversation.

[LCP]

Elsa

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Arnulf wasn't taking any chances. Lowering his head, he lunged for her again.

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Grapply grapple.

(1d100)[70]
Evasion - (1d100)[57]

Fauchard returns to the scene and rolls initiative: (1d10+30)[33]

Stepping aside again, Elsa let the big man rush past her. From the trees nearby, she heard the cracking of twigs as Fauchard reappeared.

"What in the name of - gods damn it!" he cried, drawing his sword. "Arnulf! She's loose!"

Arnulf growled, plainly aware of this already. Turning, he got ready to grab at Elsa again.

---

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Adelbert, Brand, Sieghard & Wolfgang

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"Little dolls an' things. Shares of their harvest." Donar lowered his voice. "A man from Turnpike told me once, some of the children who go playing in the forest don't come back."