[WFRP] The Bloody Crown X

[RossN]

Adelbert

"They said there was a jackal in the streets." Ludo had been morose and distracted since he had failed to find any information on the killing. "Back when there was the disease, people were talking about a jackal stalking the streets. I thought it was a metaphor, or an urban legend or something, but what if it isn't?"

He looked up. "It's Nahorek, right? That must be what it is. Astoria was there when we defended the book, and then she was alone when Nahorek could get her. That's why nothing was taken, that's why it was an animal attack."

"What can we do about that? Is this... a god?"

'If it is a god it is a poor excuse for one,' Adelbert sniffed. 'Nahorek claimed the gods were dead, without explaining how he himself continues to exist, or why he has not taken on the role of the god of the dead? That is what I would have done. No, more likely he is sort of quasi-divine spirit akin to the Arari who serve Dazh in Kislavarian theology. Little more than a daemon really and we've faced them.'

The priest smiled reassuringly at Ludo. 'Don't despair my friend. Verena Herself once spoke to me and you have experienced Her power heal you. I think we can confidentially assume Nahorek is lying. In any case I suspect we are dealing with something even lesser than a daemon. A mutant like Kelda perhaps, or maybe one of the restless dead called to the presence of the book.'

[-Sentinel-]

The mention of the jackal seen in the streets of Savonne was troubling to Elsa. "Shortly after the Third Battle of Arrow Heap, when I was walking among the corpses," she said, her voice low as if Nahorek might overhear them, "I had a vision of a jackal roaming the battlefield and feeding off all the deaths. I thought it was only my witch-sight giving me a sort of... symbolic representation of Nahorek's growing strength. But perhaps it wasn't symbolic at all. Perhaps its spirit exists in the physical world... and can harm us directly, if it so chooses."

[LeSwordfish]

Investigating
"Well, use your magical sense now." Ludo said, gesturing at the streets around them. "Is there anything like that here?"

[RossN]

Adelbert

Adelbert glanced at Elsa, his eyebrows raised. 'Finally some good news. If it really is Nahorek and if it can manifest corporeally perhaps we can trap it or kill it.'

The priest looked thoughtful. 'Still, lets not get our hopes up. I still think it might be something else.'

He turned his eyes back over the street, searching for signs of something magical.

OOC:

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Magic awareness: (1d100)[58] vs. 53

[LCP]

13th Vorgeheim - Elsa Only

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Elsa could feel the natural attraction of the Amethyst wind to the place of Astoria's death. It flowed through the patch of bloodstained cobbles like sand through the neck of an hourglass, passing from the past and into the future. It would linger for a while before fading.

She could sense nothing else out of the ordinary. Around her, the city was a swirl of all the colours of the Winds, the many currents of human life in Savonne stirring up their counterparts in the Aethyr. She did, however, feel a gnawing sense of unease, like a shadow passing over her. She looked up in search of clouds, but the sun still shone brightly in a cloudless blue sky.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard (with Ludo)

"Let's see what we can do without Dragos. Fob him off with a meeting and a "We'll think about it" if you want. I'll keep sorting things out with Sussman. He's never tied me to a chair."

"If you think it's not worth getting involved with the man, then I won't bother contacting him at all," Sieghard said, "I've never met the man. All I have to go off is your judgement and what little the Captain said."

Investigating

"Nahorek is a daemon, not a god," Sieghard said stubbornly. "We've fought daemons." He thought for a moment, trying not to dwell on how fighting daemons had gone for them.

"If it's behind the plague and the attack, then maybe it's worth speaking with people who have survived the sickness."

[LeSwordfish]

"If you think it's not worth getting involved with the man, then I won't bother contacting him at all," Sieghard said, "I've never met the man. All I have to go off is your judgement and what little the Captain said."

"I think we'll have to deal with him at some point." Ludo said. "But that needn't be for now."

[LCP]

13th Vorgeheim

Before returning to the castle, Elsa made a short detour to visit Astoria’s body where Raqiyah’s Morrites still kept it. The priests admitted her without challenge. Cut off from the noise and bustle of the city by the sense of serenity that seemed to dwell within the old walls of the temple, she focused her second sight as keenly as she could.

She could detect no trace of any sorcery lingering on Astoria’s remains. She had been killed by simple violence, that was certain - but even in this sacred place, Elsa couldn’t shake the same sense of foreboding that she had felt standing at the mouth of Half Moon Alley. The longer she looked at the body, the more she felt it. Apes in some primordial forest might have felt the same crawling sensation on the back of their necks, looking on the fresh footprints of a tiger in the mud.

In the end, she had to look away. It was ridiculous to feel frightened - she was safe here, almost as safe as behind the walls of the castle. That was what she told herself.

---

14th Vorgeheim

While Sieghard set off to strike a deal with Burhan, Ludo continued his investigations around Half Moon Alley and the surrounding streets. He stopped at the temple first, looking for some advice on stories of jackals on the streets.

“It’s a common saying,” said Brother Liebrecht, as two of the young initiates carried the body of an old inebriate past behind him. Death was a daily visitor on the streets of the city. “When someone passes before their time, particularly children, people say Nahorek stole them away. To say the jackal is abroad is to say that death is taking more than its share.” Pausing to say a blessing to a worshipper who passed him by, he turned his attention back to Ludo. “I dare say if you go among the houses that were afflicted by the disease you will still see charms to keep him at bay. Jackal’s paws and witchroot hung over the door, or a saucer of milk left out for him to drink. Sometimes Morr’s mercy is all people can ask for.”

One of the grave diggers who worked the temple garden had a different opinion. He lived close to the alley, and his sister had been one of the few to actually perish from the sickness. He claimed to have nursed her through her final decline.

“She was always talkin’ about the Jackal,” he said, over a mug of ale in the Sun and Stars. “Said he was coming for her, would go on at me to bar the doors and windows so he couldn’t get in. Shallyans said she was delirious, that they oughter take her to the hospital, but she was terrified of leavin’ the house. Stayed locked up inside ‘til the Lady decided that no-one was leaving anyway.”

Taking a swig of ale, he swished the liquid around as if to wash the bitter words out of his mouth. “Neighbours said she was out of doors the night she came down with it. Came down sudden, like a fainting fit. She was always healthy before, never a sickly one. There’s others too, they’ll tell you it was the same.” Another swig. “Those fools who were making trouble under the last lords, they baited the Jackal, used his sign to spit in the eye of the Duke. Well now they done called him up. I reckon he’s not going back down under the earth till he’s eaten his fill.”

~

Meanwhile, Elsa had spent most of the day seeking out the servants at the castle. Timorous and seldom-seen, they had survived coup after blood-soaked coup by knowing how to stay out of their masters’ way. She had to bear down into the kitchens like a woman ready for war before she managed to pin down their chief - a woman three times Elsa’s age, with white hair pulled back in a tight bun and skin as brown and wrinkled as a walnut. Her name was Mouna, and she had apparently impressed Irene enough for her to keep her job when the Sforzas took residence. The other servants treated her with a mixture of respect and fear.

The great hall was far too grand and draughty for the small gathering she was hoping for - besides which, it hardly seemed fair to ask Leona Groz to honour Astoria’s passing in the hall where her husband had been butchered. Fortunately, the cavernous crusader castle still had many rooms that the new owners had yet to expand into. After a short search, she commandeered a good-sized room on the west side of the keep, on the third floor. The venerable Mouna called it the castellan’s solar. According to her, the last person to use it had been Janos Forkbeard.

Servants began to come and go from the enormous kitchens, and soon a small feast had been laid out in the solar. There were white cheeses and smoked meats, soft bread and honey cakes, and platters of perch and filleted pike from the Azril. The only sticking-point was the wine - Mouna demanded Elsa sign a docket before she allowed anything to be brought up from the cellars, repeating over and over that she would ‘show it to the Lady’. That was a bridge Elsa would cross when she came to it.

One by one, her guests began to gather. Not many of Sieghard’s men were brave enough to accept the invitation; this part of the keep was not the domain of common soldiers. Hanna and Ingwald were the only two Thorns who had the courage; they accompanied Roth and a handful of the other veterans of the Count’s army. When Leona Groz arrived, they greeted her with at least as much respect as they gave to Sieghard and the Sforzas. She greeted them gladly in return, letting Roth briefly hold her infant son. All the men with him commented on the boy’s resemblance to his father.

The chatter of Sieghard’s soldiers died down when Irene entered the room, fashionably late. Her manner of dress was respectfully understated compared to her usual splendour, but still appeared precisely calibrated to make Elsa and Leona look like stick figures next to an oil painting.

Flanked by a good number of Southlander guards, she smiled graciously at Sieghard and Leona, managing to give the impression of greeting Groz’s widow warmly while somehow also keeping about four feet’s distance between herself and the baby at all times. Skating around the outside of their circle, she made a beeline for where the servants were serving the wine, only to find the cask was beginning to run dry.

“What’s this about rationing the wine, Hildebrand?” she asked. “You’ll have lady Groz thinking we’re cheap. You,” - she snapped her fingers at the maid serving - “fetch the Morceaux from the cellar. Quickly now.”

The sun was beginning to sink in the west. From the high windows of the solar, one could just about see the distant ridgeline of the Giant’s Teeth, their jagged crags gnawing the hem of the cloudless sky. It had been almost six months, but Elsa still remembered the power she had felt unleashed beyond those forbidding hills on Hexensnacht...

[-Sentinel-]

13th Vorgeheim

Elsa reported her feelings about both the body and the scene of Astoria's murder. According to her, there was the expected Amethyst magic, but save for a sense of unease, she had not sensed anything that might directly suggest necromancy or other dark magic.

---

14th Vorgeheim

Elsa was disappointed to see so few of the Thorns at the wake. My fault for choosing the castle, she thought. This is turning into the exact opposite of what I wanted, and likely what Astoria would have wanted. Something formal and posh, rather than an opportunity to mourn and tell stories between friends. She would make a point of joining the other Thorns for a few drinks at the inn when she found the time, to make up for this.

And perhaps the amount of food was a bit excessive, especially in times of war, high taxes and deprivations. Elsa had given no specific instructions beyond 'Make sure there's something to eat', but the servants must have been used by now to the lavish demands of both Duke Alvarr and, now, Lady Sforza. If any food was left after the wake, she would invite those poor, harried souls to eat or bring home whatever was left.

"What's this about rationing the wine, Hildebrand?" asked Lady Sforza. "You'll have lady Groz thinking we're cheap."

Elsa forced a smile. "Apologies. I wanted to prevent anyone from overindulging. In times like these, it would be both tempting and inappropriate. But a suppose a bit more to drink couldn't hurt."

She met everyone present to thank them personally for coming to the wake. Once she decided everyone who was planning to come had arrived, she took place in front of the window and cleared her throat for attention. By now the room was fully basked in the reddish-gold glow of dusk, magnifying the color of Elsa's short hair.

"I have a few words to say," she announced, nervously fingering a rolled-up parchment. "About the person whose life we are remembering today." She unfurled the parchment and began reading.

---

We live in a treacherous land.

You all know it, whether you were born here or came from elsewhere. This is the edge of civilization. A place where order hangs by a thread, the laws change with the seasons, alliances are made and broken according to the needs of the moment, and trust is in short supply. A place of schemes and ulterior motives. A place where duty and moral principles all too often give way to ruthless pragmatism. This country, it changes you, or it kills you.

When I first met Astoria d’Evangelisti, who at the time was Duke Alvarr's prisoner, she stuck out like a sore thumb with her idealism and her honor. She amused me and baffled me in equal measure, especially when she pledged herself to my service like a Bretonnian knight to the Lady of the Lake. How could someone like that exist in such a place? The Broken Reaches would eat her alive, I told myself. Either she would trust the wrong person and find herself with a dagger in her back, or her virtues would slowly be ground down by the harsh reality of this land until she became a cynical, calculating survivor, like some of us; myself included.

And yet she surprised me. I knew her only for a few months, but I never saw her waver in her convictions. This was a person who wore her principles like an armor, rather than a ball and chain. I think she knew exactly what kind of world she lived in, yet chose not to let it change her. She decided that the world needed her all the more because of how little place it had for the likes of her. If this is not a good country for heroes, she must have thought, then it’s all up to me to make it one. And I started to believe she could actually do it, all by herself.

The other night, Astoria was murdered.

What should we take away from this? Was she proven wrong? Did her ideals turn out to be worthless? Are we to remember her death as a cautionary tale of what happens to starry-eyed fools who are too virtuous for their own good?

No.

Astoria was not killed by a dagger in her back or poison in her wine. She was not betrayed by a friend, or lured into a trap by a lie. Her principles were not used against her. Astoria was killed by a monster. And monsters, when you think about it, come very much from the same world as heroes. A simpler world. Monsters care not about your plots and deceit. It doesn’t matter if you are a silver-tongued liar who can talk their way out of any situation, or a cunning schemer who’s always thinking ten moves ahead. Astoria could’ve been either, and it still wouldn’t have saved her. The only way to beat monsters is to face them with courage, never give an inch, and trust that your brothers in arms are watching your back just as you watch theirs. Against monsters, heroes are our best hope. Astoria proved it by driving her spear into the Jarl’s skull.

But even heroes can be overcome, if they stand alone. That’s how Astoria fell.

Since I came to these lands, I have seen many monsters. I have seen orcs and daemons and the restless dead and the savages from the Raven Hills. I know for a fact that they are but the vanguard of what’s coming. We need not one hero, but many. But how does one become a hero? The first step is to think like one. We must unlearn much of what this land has taught us, and instead look up to Astoria’s example. We must have principles, beyond self-interest. We need to do what’s right, not just what’s useful. We need to learn how to trust, how to prove worthy of the trust others dare place in us, and how to treat loyalty not as a means to an end, but as an end, in and of itself. If we don’t… the monsters will eat us.

I refuse to believe Astoria d’Evangelisti died in vain. Let us learn—not from her death, but from her life. The Broken Reaches could use more people like her.

We live in a treacherous land. But it’s only so because we allow it to be so.

It can be different.

We can be different.

Astoria believed so, and thanks to her life and her deeds, so do I.

---

OOC

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If anyone else has a eulogy, you are more than welcome!

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"That was really good," Sieghard said after Elsa had finished. He handed her a cup of wine. His own was already empty. "She thought I was a knight," he muttered, "Kept calling me one even after I told her I'm not. It bothered me at first. Now though... I dunno... It's almost funny in a way."

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Sieghard won't say anything publicly. He knows he's not good with words and Elsa is a hard act to follow

[RossN]

Adelbert

Adelbert had come in his robes, as much due to lack of other options as anything else (though they were at least clean and dignified.) He kept his distance from Lady Groz - He might have regretted the manner of Groz's death but that the man had been a traitor Adelbert had no doubt. He'd also hoped he hadn't stared too hard when Irene entered. Even toned down she dominated the room.

Wine cup in hand he listened to Else's eulogy in admiration and trepidation - he's have to come up with something good if he was expected to speak! Who would have thought the blunt fire mage had it in her?

'I cannot match the speech the noble Signora just gave, but that is appropriate. I knew Astoria less well and for all too brief a time. Days and weeks not months and years. Yet she always impressed me. A soldier, a strategist, a woman of great faith and bravery. Myrmidia could not have found a finer follower. Even as Astoria slips away from us towards Morr's fog hidden realm she leaves us the richer, the stronger and the better for having known her. Ladies and gentlemen, Your Grace to the departed!'

He raised his glass.

[-Sentinel-]

"That was really good," Sieghard said after Elsa had finished.

Elsa smiled. "Thank you. When I was writing it, I tried to keep it short, but... you can see how that went."

"She thought I was a knight. Kept calling me one even after I told her I'm not. It bothered me at first. Now though... I dunno... It's almost funny in a way."

"Hmm." Elsa was not sure what to say to that.

She raised her glass along with Adelbert.

[LCP]

'Ladies and gentlemen, Your Grace to the departed!'

Irene raised her glass with the others, taking just a dainty sip. Her Southlander guards were not drinking, but put their fists across their hearts in a gesture of respect. They might not have fought alongside Astoria, but everyone knew the stories of the battle at the mill. If Rorik had broken through, there might not have been any ahosi left to salute.

As soon as the speeches were over, Ingwald and the rest of Sieghard's soldiers began to slip away, not wanting to linger in such dangerous proximity to nobility - though they made sure to grab their share of the food when they didn't think Irene was looking. Only Roth had the brass neck to stick around, sticking close to Leona like an honour guard.

"A lovely speech, Hildebrand," said Irene. "I didn't have you down for such a romantic. Heroes and monsters and so on."

"You don't think whoever killed the caballera was a monster, my lady?" asked Leona, innocently. Her baby was beginning to grizzle; she shifted his weight a little in her arms. "It seems to me a monstrous thing to do."

"Ordinary men are capable of monstrous things," Irene replied. She seemed distracted by the infant. "You don't have to carry the... little dear everywhere, you know. We can get you a wetnurse."

"It's no trouble," said Leona, sweetly. "What else do I have to do?"

"It is a little dull with Muzio away, isn't it," said Irene with sympathy - though the child still seemed to be making her uncomfortable. "This town must have society of some kind. We must bring them here. What use is a castle without a court, after all?"

[RossN]

Adelbert glanced into his goblet. Part of him - mercifully a small part - was tempted to point out that the leadership of the city had been killed or exiled twice in as many years. In fact Adelbert himself, as former Court Librarian, was the closest thing left to a courtier of the ancien regime.

Well unless one counted Lady Groz anyway.

'I believe there is a community of travelling players in town Lady Sforza,' Adelbert said, deciding he best speak up. 'I admit I have not seen them myself but perhaps there is some possibility there? Indeed I have been informed that Savonne once had a standing theatre.'

[LCP]

"I suppose a little entertainment might tempt the rabbits out of their holes," said Irene, considering the idea. "Where are they playing?"

[RossN]

Adelbert

'According to the handbills I've read Herr Sutter and his players are to be found in the South Market, while on Konigstag nights they perform in a Dockside establishment named the Fat Fish,' Adelbert's mouth twitched in amusement at the idea of Irene Sforza patronising such a venue.

'Not the name I would have chosen if I was running a tavern, I admit Lady Sforza but I can investigate on your behalf. Discretely check the quality and content of the performance.'

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"Sutter?" Sieghard asked. "Otto Sutter? I've seen his troupe perform."

[RossN]

Adelbert

If looks could kill Sieghard would have frozen to death from the expression the priest turned his way, but with an effort Adelbert kept his composure. 'Ah well, it seems I am superfluous after all. Lady Sforza, Frau Groz.' He bowed his head to the former (though not the latter) and moved over to the table to fill his wine glass.

[LeSwordfish]

Ludo - who had been avoiding Lady Groz and her child with the diligence of an oppositely-charged particle - made sure to congratulate Elsa on her speech and say some dutifully respectful things, before retiring only a little after the Thorns. Collecting Stoutheart from the kitchen, the dog engaged with a beef bone larger than himself, he managed to catch up with Hanna and Ingwald outside the castle.

"I wanted to talk to you," he said. "How are the new recruits doing? I've been busy with investigating, but it doesnt seem to be leading much of anywhere."

[LCP]

"Really? I didn't know you patronised the arts, Commander," said Irene. "What were they performing? Any of the classics?"

~

"I wanted to talk to you," he said. "How are the new recruits doing? I've been busy with investigating, but it doesnt seem to be leading much of anywhere."

"They're doing alright," said Ingwald. "Most of the boys you brought in from the countryside don't know the business end of a crossbow from the bottom of their boot, but they're honest lads. Not like the city folk the Commander drummed up. Got a few chancers there I think." Hanna frowned, but didn't contradict him. "We going to be needing them soon? I haven't heard any marching orders on the grapevine."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard gave Adelbert a quizzical look, unsure what had upset the priest.

"It was play about the siege of Savonne.... The first one," he clarified. "Made to appeal to the common folk, but that's who they were performing for." He wondered if Irene would've been flattered by the actors portraying her as the true power in Mirino or angered at how they had played her husband. "I don't know if they do any other shows, but if Brother Schreiber is still willing, it's something he could look into."

[LCP]

"Ah," said Irene, with a falling inflection that strongly suggested she had lost interest. "Pantomime." She reached for the wine again.

"Well, if brother... Schreiber, you said? - has nothing better to do, I'm sure it couldn't hurt to see if this signor Sutter has anything a little more cultured in his repertoire." She smiled sweetly at Adelbert. "But I'm sure we wouldn't want to drag him away from important Temple business."

[RossN]

Adelbert

Adelbert paled but forced himself to smile back. 'You honour me Lady Sforza. I am indeed busy, but culture is a vital aspect of my faith... and I would never consider a request from Your Grace to be anything less than important.'

[LCP]

Irene's smile became momentarily dazzling. "Thank you, brother Schreiber. How nice to meet an obliging priest at last." She laughed. "I was beginning to believe you were all like the mother superior."

Setting down her cup, she turned back to Elsa. "Well Hildebrand, I must take my leave. Thank you for arranging this little... gathering. A very pretty speech." She looked across to Sieghard. "And I'm sure the caballera's killer will be brought to justice very soon."

[-Sentinel-]

"I didn't have you down for such a romantic. Heroes and monsters and so on."

Does she actively try to be condescending, or is it second nature? thought Elsa, struggling to keep her smile.

"You don't think whoever killed the caballera was a monster, my lady?" asked Leona, innocently.

"In a manner of speaking. Some monsters wear human skin," said Elsa. But... I don't think this one did.

"Well Hildebrand, I must take my leave," said Lady Sforza. "Thank you for arranging this little... gathering. A very pretty speech."

"Hope it was no inconvenience," answered Elsa dryly. "Oh, and food's on me, so be sure to send me the bill. Wouldn't want to deplete the treasury for this sort of indulgence."

[LCP]

Irene laughed. "My dear, I wouldn't dream of it. What kind of mistress would I be if I picked my servants' pockets?"

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"And I'm sure the caballera's killer will be brought to justice very soon."

Sieghard waited until Irene had left and then glanced towards Elsa. "Did that... Sound like a warning to you as well?" he asked, a bit concerned.

[RossN]

Adelbert

Adelbert felt like he'd aged a dozen years in conversation with Lady Sforza. As she departed he let out a sigh of relief... and tried to pretend his knees had not gone weak at that smile.

'It was a wonderful speech Elsa, and thank you for the occasion,' Adelbert said. It looked like he was considering more but after a visibly uncomfortable look at Lady Groz and her child he turned back to Elsa and Sieghard: 'Regarding the investigation, I'm staying in Half Moon Alley now so I suppose I'll be the first to notice anything strange.'

[-Sentinel-]

"My dear, I wouldn't dream of it. What kind of mistress would I be if I picked my servants' pockets?"

Elsa was unfazed by the remark, well used by now to Lady Sforza's transparent attempts at getting a rise out of her. "Suit yourself. Just thought we ought to set an example in times like these."


Sieghard waited until Irene had left and then glanced towards Elsa. "Did that... Sound like a warning to you as well?" he asked, a bit concerned.

It took Elsa a moment to figure out that Sieghard meant Lady Sforza's comment about the killer being caught soon. "Hmm. I think you're right," she said, frowning. "If it was the Jackal... I'm afraid we'll have trouble proving anything."


'Regarding the investigation, I'm staying in Half Moon Alley now so I suppose I'll be the first to notice anything strange.'

"Hmm. You be careful," said Elsa. Then again, Adelbert might be better than most at surviving the supernatural, given his emerging magical ability that could warn him of nearby danger.

---

Elsa only

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That evening, returning to her room after the wake, Elsa took up the magical mirror again, and this time, spoke in the Daemonic language she had been learning these past few days: <Show me Lord Alvarr.> If Daemonic had a word for Duke, she did not know it yet.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"Maybe I can find someone in town selling a wolf carcass," Sieghard replied flatly. He didn't think it likely. "If only to satisfy Lady Sforza."