[WFRP] The Bloody Crown X

[Thragka]

"Cursed stuff, more likely than not," Urgrim added, dour. "The gold in the Pyramid drove Skargan mad. It would have been better if it had been all con-fused in the fire."

He stepped over to Ludo and reached into the chest to feel the temperature of the coins. "Hopefully, none of those scavengers found this before we got here. We should take it away from here. And not for our own purses, either." He shuddered, and pressed the charred lid closed. "None will profit from this lucre."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"That way," Sieghard replied, pointing in the direction the vampire had fled. "But after so long, that doesn't help much. He could me anywhere."

"Hopefully, none of those scavengers found this before we got here."

"Doubt it. There wouldn't be any left if they had. And we already know Klammenberg's been spending it, so cursed or not, much of it is out there now. Once she recovers, we can have Hildebrand look at it. She'd be able to tell if it was cursed or not."

[LCP]

Sieghard, Ludo & Urgrim

Between them, the militia they had brought with them picked up the chest and helped carry it back to the castle. They had heard Urgrim’s words about curses, but still Ludo thought he saw a glimmer of greed in their eyes. Gold was gold.

It was something to deal with tomorrow. Finding their bunks, the three of them stripped off their gear and let exhaustion pull them down into deep grateful sleep. Above the castle, the full moons were climbing higher through the clear night sky. Their green-and-silver light stole through the city below, from the lowliest slums of the Warren to the high windows of Irene Sforza’s bedchamber.

Over the Old Town, the bats were out again, flitting over the wreckage of the fire as they returned to their roosts in the scorched minaret. As they wheeled against the sickly green disc of Morrslieb, one could almost imagine that the dark craters pitting its shining face picked out the cavities of a grinning skull...

---

Adelbert

Adelbert knelt on the stone floor of the chamber, listening for the voice of his goddess. The ancient murals that wound around the top of the walls looked down on him, the faded faces of gods and saints standing out from the shadows.

In the flickering light of the braziers, the faces seemed to take on familiar aspects. Astoria. Constanza. Jakub. Balios. They had lost so many since the killings began - it seemed to Adelbert that the Temple was like a hunted animal, slowly bleeding out from many wounds. And there, padding by Morr’s side among the painted figures, was the black, canine outline of the hunter.

Wolves were persistence hunters, he remembered Gavril had told him when he still ministered to the people of Painford. They pursued their prey until the unfortunate creature dropped dead from exhaustion. Were jackals the same? He could not shake the image of beast he had seen on the burning rooftop, the way it had looked at him. It was burned into his memory, as clearly as his own mother’s face.

Closing his eyes, he clasped his hands and prayed. As he did, a new image presented itself to his mind’s eye...

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The desert. It stretched out before him as it had when he had stood before the gates of Morr, boundless and white and empty. He saw no sign of Ulfgeir, Hakon or the jackal - only the black stone altar, bearing its broken scales. In one pan rested a white feather: in the other, there was only a smear of dried blood.

They were broken long ago. The voice spoke to his mind without passing through his ears. It was a woman’s voice, calm and deep and infinitely wise. When the Great Betrayer broke the covenant of his people, and murdered their gods. You must set them right again.

Looking round, Adelbert saw no-one standing behind him - only stars shining in the depthless abyss of the night sky. As he watched, one star swelled brighter and brighter, until it burned as bright as the sun.

Adelbert Schreiber. The starlight shone brighter still. Hear now what I tell you, my servant. A shadow is growing in the south. Sigmar smote his mortal body on the banks of the Reik, but he lives on through his works. They are a part of him, poisoning the minds of those who possess them, and turning them towards realising the dream of their creator.

A sudden wind whirled around Adelbert, raising a swirling cloud of sand. When it settled, the landscape of the desert had changed - he could see the ruined tops of buildings protruding from the white sand, cracked and sun-bleached by the passage of ages. A sand-scoured crag loomed above them, the dunes banked up to towering heights on its windward side. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Adelbert realised it was the Rock. He was looking at the ruins of Savonne.

A dominion of the dead that stretches from shore to furthest shore. A world where nothing breathes beneath the sun, where no living voice can be raised to defy its undying king. Obedient, unchanging, and eternal. The voice from the stars grew hard and severe, like a judge pronouncing sentence. There will be no learning. No justice. Just him.

The sands at Adelbert’s feet shifted in the breeze, revealing a stretch of carved stone. It was one of the carved tableaux he had seen in Kheneb-Ptra-Urush - the jackal-headed figure, driving his chariot over the mounds of the dead. Behind him, the huge, enthroned figure stretched out his hand to point the way. Adelbert found his eyes drawn to where that figure’s face had been chiselled away, as if it were too terrible to look upon. It looked as if he had been wearing a very tall headdress - or crown.

This is where it begins, spoke the voice. The princes of the Reaches will not stop it; they are blinded by their own greed. Swords and spears will not stop it; death is the well from which the enemy draws his power. Only faith can lead the way.

The wind grew cold, and the light of the star began to dim. The ruins crumbled and dissolved into sand, leaving Adelbert alone once again in the endless desert.

You have chosen a hard time to serve me, Adelbert Schreiber. I will ask many sacrifices of you. The voice was fainter now, barely more than a whisper in his ear. As its warmth receded, another feeling was stealing over him - the same feeling of crawling blasphemy he had felt in the house on Sundial Passage. Only know, even when the night seems darkest - I am with you.

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The carvings in Kheneb I’m referring to are these ones.

Adelbert opened his eyes, and found himself back in the chamber. Outside the door, hurried footsteps were passing by - presumably to answer whoever was knocking so loudly on the temple doors.

Adelbert heard the door open, and Liebrecht’s sleepy voice echo down the hall. “What is it, my child? There’s no need to knock so loudly.”

“Sanctuary!” The voice that answered him sounded like someone suffering from a very bad cold - or perhaps, someone with a broken nose. As he listened, Adelbert felt recognition dawn, like an ice cube sliding down his spine. “My friend and I, we - we were attacked by thugs! Please, give us sanctuary!”

It was Klammenberg.

---

Elsa

Having drifted off with her book still held in her good hand, Elsa woke to the sound of someone having a nightmare. At the other end of the room, old Reinholt was tossing and turning in his bed, his frenetic muttering echoing from the whitewashed walls.

“...no... please, I didn’t mean...”

The light of Morrslieb blazed through the stained-glass window behind him, bathing the old man in its eerie glow. To Elsa’s second sight, the light was almost hypnotic, glistening like an oil-slick with all the colours of the Aethyr.

“...so many years beneath the earth… such pain… such thirst... sorry, my lord, we are so sorry…”

The old man was getting louder, and his shouts had attracted attention. Two Shallyan initiates entered the room, their white robes bright spots in the gloom.

“Sorry about this, mistress Hildebrand,” said one of them. “The moon takes some of them like this sometimes.”

The other softly approached Reinholt, a bottle of something soothing held behind her back. Before she could reach him, he flung off his blanket and leapt out of bed. Running to the window, he threw his trembling hands against the glass, as if trying to catch the moonlight in his bony fingers.

“He is here! He who was cast down, and will rise again! He has returned for what is his!” The two Shallyans rushed forwards to restrain him before he could hurt himself, but the old man fought back with surprising strength for one so thin and wasted. “The black hound hungers for his master’s word! He hunts in the houses of the gods!”

Between them, the initiates managed to wrestle Reinholt back onto the bed. Still he struggled, thrashing his legs while one of them brought out the bottle.

“Forever he will rule over those who had forgotten!” The Shallyans forced the neck of the bottle between his teeth, and he spat a fine spray of its contents in their faces. “Forever there shall be cold under the sun. Death shall reign from forever to forever…”

Whatever was in the bottle, it did its work remarkably quickly. Reinholt’s sudden strength left him as swiftly as it had appeared, his struggles growing as limp as a flopping fish.

“Forever… forgive us… forever…”

[-Sentinel-]

Elsabeth Holt


"No!" Elsa yelled at the Shallyans. "Let him speak! Just restrain--"

But it was too late; Reinholt was already falling unconscious. Elsa cursed softly. The madman's babblings, incoherent as they may be, surely contained something useful about the enemy. He could have taught them so much, had someone had the foresight to come here with a quill and parchment instead of a sleeping potion.

Elsa was angry at the Shallyans, but lowered her voice so that she would not be overheard by any of the rabble who might have been awoken in the other room. "He was talking about the Jackal. 'He hunts in the houses of the gods.' The beast wasn't banished from the city. It's still out there, and more priests will die. Reinholt could have told us more, if we'd allowed him."

Most likely this was the sort of event that happened only two nights a year. And it had been cut short.

[RossN]

Adelbert

For a moment Adelbert was almost too overcome by his vision to register what was happening. He had been with the goddesss... no. Not 'had been'. She was with him now. He felt different. Even with the terror of the vision he could feel it, taste it like wine on his tongue, in his blood, in his brain. She had chosen him.

He stood up, carefully. Adelbert felt almost as if he were made of glass so fragile next to the divine energies within him. It was only then that he realised what was happening in the present - and he sprinted for the door.

'Liebrecht close that door!' he thundered. 'Don't let him in!'

[LCP]

Adelbert

The shadowed statues of the gods looked down on Adelbert from their alcoves as he rushed into the atrium. Liebrecht turned in surprise at the sound of his voice. Klammenberg was standing on the threshold in front of him, the bridge of his nose swollen and bruised where Sieghard had struck it.

"Schreiber," Klammenberg said, exasperation rising on his voice. "You really do get everywhere, don't you?"

Liebrecht's eyes narrowed as he put two and two together. Adelbert could hear running feet behind him, someone else drawn by the sound of shouting. Turning, he saw the boy Besnik scurry out of the shadows.

"You should not have come here tonight, necromancer," said Liebrecht, his voice steely with contempt. "Your tricks will not avail you in Morr's house."

"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure about that," Klammenberg flippantly replied. He raised his voice in the manner of a schoolteacher. "Besnik? What do we say to the master?"

In a flash, Adelbert realised where his ingrained dislike of the boy had sprung from. The sallow skin, the hangdog face, the malnourished frame - Besnik had the Rivermouth look. Now he wore the entranced expression of someone who stood in the presence of his god.

"Enter freely," said Besnik, his voice ringing out in the echoing hall, "and of your own accord."

The candles lighting the temple guttered and went out, leaving only the shaft of mingled moonlight that still fell through the open door. Liebrecht tried to slam it shut, but a sudden gust of wind threw it open, bringing with it the choking smell of dust and grave spices. Klammenberg stepped aside, and an inhuman shadow loomed in his place.

"I don't think we had a chance to make the proper introductions last time, Schreiber," Klammenberg called out, as the great jackal padded over the threshold. The light of the Chaos Moon shone from its glossy coat, as sleek and black as midnight. "You have the honour to stand before the great Nakht-Horeb, who was high priest of Djaf in the glory that was Lahmia. Child-in-Darkness of W'soran, Master of Death. Thief of Souls, Scourge of the Northern Plain, he who was called the Hound of Nagash.” Pausing to catch his breath, he gave a strained smile. “But you may know him simply as Nahorek the Jackal.”

The jackal’s shadow was stretching out longer and longer, its eyes burning red through the gathering dark. Adelbert could feel power rolling off it like smoke from a fire.

“Take my advice,” said Klammenberg. “Run.”

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Terror check please - this time at +20 for familiarity.

---

Elsa

The initiates looked at Elsa as if she too had started claiming she was Prince of the Reaches. "It's... it's Herr Reinholt," one of them said, baffled. "Last Geheimnisnacht he was saying he was a fish."

[-Sentinel-]

Elsabeth Holt


"It's... it's Herr Reinholt. Last Geheimnisnacht he was saying he was a fish."

Elsa gritted her teeth in frustration. She wished she were speaking to whoever was the senior priestess since Constanza's death. "But now he was making sense. My friends and I have been fighting the Jackal's servants for a while now; that's how I ended up in this hospital in the first place. Trust me when I say he was making sense. He must be touched by the Aethyr in some way, like I am. Well, it's too late now."

Something was going to happen tonight, she just knew it. Another priest would die; or worse, a ritual would be completed.

And there she was, in bed, barely able to stand... let alone run around and fight.

Had the disaster of last night all been in vain?

[RossN]

Adelbert

'Imbecile,' Adelbert hissed at Klammenberg. 'Do you think this dead thing will reward you? Don't be a fool - help us destroy it and you still might survive.'

Turning to Liebrecht he barked: 'Go, now, get everyone out.'

[LCP]

Adelbert

Klammenberg only rolled his eyes at Adelbert's offer. Liebrecht stepped back as the thing stalked forwards, rummaging with a trembling hand for the pendant of Morr beneath his robes. He was only a few yards from the creature - he knew that whatever direction he ran, he couldn't get away.

"Mother Raqiyah is in the sanctuary, Schreiber," he said. "Warn her."

Finding the talisman, he held it up in front of him, the little pewter raven dangling on the end of its cord.

"You may wear this shape," he said, his voice shaking, "but you are no servant of my god. Go back into the darkness that spawned you."

The jackal's long, slender muzzle wrinkled in a snarl, exposing sharp white teeth. Taking a deep breath, Liebrecht shouted:

"GUARDS!"

---

Elsa

To the Shallyan initiates, Elsa might as well have been speaking Khazalid. They looked at one another, completely lost.

"Perhaps you can speak to him tomorrow, mistress," one of them offered. "He'll be calmer once the moon's gone down."

[RossN]

Adelbert

'Morr watch over you Liebrecht,' Adelbert said and ran towards the Sanctuary.

There had to be some combination of relics and faith that would keep that monster at bay. Some way to make a stand. There had to be. 'Mother Raqiyah the vampire and Klammenberg are here in the Temple!'

[LCP]

Adelbert

Dashing down the darkened passageway behind him, Adelbert almost collided with Jocasta as she stepped out into the corridor. Drawn to the sound of the shouting, she blinked blearily in confusion, trying to find the words to ask what was going on.

"Adelbert, what -"

Liebrecht's agonised scream echoed down the corridor, and suddenly explanations seemed to drop down Jocasta's list of priorities. She flattened herself against the wall as the sanctuary guards thundered past them, then turned and followed Adelbert as he ran deeper into the temple.

Down they ran, down narrow stone steps that had been worn concave by generations of passing feet, and into the hidden heart of the temple. Throwing open the ancient doors of the sanctuary, Adelbert found the air so thick with incense that he could hardly see the relics on their plinths. Raqiyah was kneeling before the painted arch, the black iron chest that bore the mark of Morr open before her. She held something large and heavy in her hands.

'Mother Raqiyah the vampire and Klammenberg are here in the Temple!'

Slowly, Raqiyah turned her head to look at them. Dark tear-tracks ran down from the corners of her blind eyes. Jocasta gave a sharp intake of breath as she saw they were blood.

The thing she held was a death-mask of polished onyx, carved in the likeness of a jackal. Adelbert could feel the power in it - its ancient, empty eyes seemed to stare back at him as Raqiyah set it gently down on the floor.

"I know, Schreiber," she said, her voice soft and sad. She rose stiffly to her feet. "Will you shut the door?"

[RossN]

Adelbert

Adelbert stared at the death mask, his eyes almost burning through it. Slowly he lifted them to look into Raqiyah's eyes.

'Mother Raqiyah,' he said slowly and carefully, 'Is this an artefact that can kill or destroy the vampire?'

[LCP]

Adelbert

"No," said Raqiyah. "Only something to help me see."

Picking up her staff, she found her way to Adelbert's side. "I have spent my whole life preparing for the next," she said, "but now the time has come... I find I don't want to leave." She put a hand on his arm. "I wish I could have helped you more, Adelbert Schreiber. My journey ends here, but yours must continue on."

There was a scream from outside, and the sound of a body rolling down the stairs. Slow footfalls followed after it, the sound of something four-legged coming closer. Jocasta shrank back against the wall of the sanctuary, while Raqiyah stepped forwards and used her staff to draw a line in the dust on the flagstoned floor, stretching across the doorway. Closing her eyes, she began to intone a Classical prayer of protection.

As she chanted, the great black form of the jackal padded into view, its long muzzle slathered with blood. In the flickering light of the incense-burners, it seemed one with its own shadow. Its form swelled and dissolved before them, breaking apart into a cloud of black dust that whirled and coalesced into the shape of man. Only the red eyes remained constant, burning like coals through the swirling darkness.

The vampire stood upon the threshold, white bone still showing through the gash on its cheek where Sieghard had struck it. Raqiyah, of course, had seen nothing of its intimidating display - she carried on her prayer, as calm and collected as a rock. The creature cocked its head at her with a curious air.

"Shepenupet?" it asked, its voice as dry and cracked as a parched riverbed. It spoke again, and Adelbert realised it was speaking Classical - albeit a dialect of Classical so strange and archaic that he could hardly recognise it. <Why do you speak the language of the barbarians?>

OOC:

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Raqiyah casts Threshold Line.
Channelling: (1d100)[59]
(3d10)[5][4][1](10)

[RossN]

Adelbert

<'Barbarian?'> Adelbert hissed at the vampire in disbelief. <'Who are you to call a barbarian? A heretic, a murder, a traitor, a cannibal? A howling beast that glorifies in being a slave to a master more vile still? No rat that crawled its way up from a diseased sewer had less to be proud of!' >

He glared hatred at the creature. <''You have power wretch, that much is certain and yes I am sure you will kill us all but your master will fail again as he failed before and you will fail again as you failed before.'>

[-Sentinel-]

"Perhaps you can speak to him tomorrow, mistress. He'll be calmer once the moon's gone down."

By then he'll likely have forgotten everything, Elsa bit back. She sighed and held her tongue; she had had more than enough of dealing with useless people, be they arrogant nobles or ignorant commoners. It seemed she and her friends had only themselves to rely on.

She knew she would not be getting much sleep tonight, even though she needed it. What would she do if the sentry spell she had put near the Book of Nagash alerted her? Would it already be too late? Or would there be a chance, however remote, of thwarting the Jackal again? She knew she was unlikely to survive another run-in with that creature in her current condition.

And yet, if she did not try...


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Adelbert

<'Barbarian?'> Adelbert hissed at the vampire in disbelief. <'Who are you to call a barbarian? A heretic, a murder, a traitor, a cannibal? A howling beast that glorifies in being a slave to a master more vile still? No rat that crawled its way up from a diseased sewer had less to be proud of!' >

He glared hatred at the creature. <''You have power wretch, that much is certain and yes I am sure you will kill us all but your master will fail again as he failed before and you will fail again as you failed before.'>

[LCP]

Adelbert

The vampire's gaze swung slowly to fix on Adelbert.

<I have seen you before,> he said. <Ashakhet? No... the barbarian from the desert.>

He drew himself up to his full height, and the fire in the incense-burners flickered low. <You squat in this ruin, and ask me why I call you barbarian? I was here when the stones of this temple were laid.> He took a step forwards, and the dust of Raqiyah's threshold line began to thrum and dance on the flagstones. <Its priests sang the praise of Ptra and Asaph, and enshrined their likenesses in alabaster and gold. Now you huddle in mud huts and light candles against the dark. You who never saw the glory that was Nehekhara.>

He turned back to Raqiyah. <Why do you let this slave speak for you, Shepenupet? Have you forgotten who you are?> He reached out with one clawed hand. <Do you not recognise your god?>

<My name is Raqiyah,> she replied, <and I know who you are. You are no god.>

There was a pregnant pause. The vampire peered at Raqiyah, as if re-examining the evidence of his own eyes.

<Then whose statue stands in the temple above us, she who is not Shepenupet? Whose treasures do you keep?> One taloned finger pointed towards the mask. <I can smell the blood of Setep in you. You have kept my mask, you have kept my book - have you not kept my staff?> Raqiyah remained serene, unable to see the red eyes that bored into her. <Have you not kept the faith?>

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Nahorek and Raqiyah have a lot to talk about - if you want to let them, let me know and I can make a fairly long post for the next update. Otherwise if you want to have Adelbert still try to occupy his attention go ahead.

[RossN]

Adelbert

<'You speak of the glories of Nehekhara yet who brought those glories down? You speak of Ptra and Asaph yet who abandoned them? You and you filthy kind, vermin in human drag.'> Adelbert glared at the vampire then spat at his feet. <'Your own idiot slave Klammenberg calls you the priest of Djaf, yet where is your god now? Did you abandon him or did you betray him? Are you a heretic or a coward? Or both?'>

He laughed, a sharp bitter bark. <'I have met and spoken with all that is left of Nehkhara cringing dog of the sands, mongrel of the necromancer. Believe me they had nothing well to say of you.'>

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Nakht-Horeb has put us through a lot. Even Adelbert can't hurt him he is damn well going to unload some bile!

[LCP]

Adelbert

Raqiyah's line burst into amethyst flames as the vampire stepped through it, burning away into the incense-clouded air. He was coming for Adelbert, quicker than a striking viper. Adelbert ducked behind a relic plinth, the bloodstained cloak of some Shallyan martyr tumbling to the floor as his monstrous enemy swiped at where he had been - but as he turned to look for another place to retreat, he found his back against the sanctuary wall. A cold claw closed around his neck and lifted him off the ground.

<The gods betrayed me,> hissed the ancient voice, the vampire's eyes burning into his. For the first time, he sounded angry. <What kind of god lets his people perish? What kind of god can be killed by a man?>

The grip around Adelbert's neck tightened, and for a moment stars danced before his eyes as he felt bones grind under the pressure. Then, blessedly, the vampire slackened his grip, just enough for Adelbert to draw in a gasping breath.

<Who have you spoken to, little barbarian?> he demanded. <Tell me.>

[RossN]

Adelbert

<'What... what... kind of... priest... would... be a slave... to the necromancer?'> Adelbert gasped back, croaking his words in a whisper. <'Any man... worthy of the title man... would... have died rather... than... become a thing like you.'>

He didn't dare take his eyes off thing in front of him, just silently praying to every god he could think of that Jocasta had the brains to flee while the vampire was distracted. One of them had to get out of here alive.

[LCP]

Adelbert

<Dying does not prevent it,> said the vampire. <It is a necessary step.>

His grip tightened a fraction, claws drawing blood from the skin of Adelbert's neck. <You will tell me,> he said, his voice low and certain. <Whether willingly, or whether I wring it from your screaming spirit.>

<Let him go,> said Raqiyah. The vampire looked round at the sound of her voice.

<Who is this barbarian to you?>

<He is a priest of this temple.> Raqiyah stepped forwards, leaning a little on her staff. <He serves the lady of wisdom, wife of Morr. This is Morr's house,> she said. <There is no place for you here.>

<Have the children of the Great Land forgotten so much?> The vampire's voice was like the rustle of dead reeds in the wind. <I found you in the wilderness. I scourged the green beasts from the plain, and drove the savages into the high hills. I brought you the knowledge of life and death, that would have made you eternal. This temple exists because of me.>

Slowly, the vampire let Adelbert down, his clawed hand still clutching his throat. <...But the mountain people whispered poison in your ears, and turned you against me. Buried me in the earth and left you to decline, and decay, and be forgotten. And now barbarian warlords yoke you to the plough, and all your glories have fallen into dust. All as I told them it would be.> He paused. <Of course you have forgotten.>

He finally let Adelbert drop, leaving him hoarsely gulping for breath. He had fallen against the heavy dwarfish chest that held the book, and through the crack of the lid he could hear its sibilant voices, whispering. They sounded... excited.

Approaching Raqiyah, the vampire loomed over her, almost twice the frail priestess' height. <I am the only god this land has ever had,> he said. <Swear fealty to me, and I will restore you to what is yours. I will make you immortal, unchanging. The invaders will fall like wheat before the scythe, and the people of the silver river will rule once more, in all the splendour of the Nehekhara that was lost.>

<You were a better deceiver in death than you are in life,> said Raqiyah. There was emotion on her voice now, no longer so serene. <Do you know what your name means now? How many children have laughed at the stories of Nakki the Jackal? How many anxious mothers have left an offering for you, not to take their sickly infant?> She swallowed the lump in her throat. <Morr took my sight, but I see you now, more clearly than ever. How could we ever have thought you were a god?>

The vampire's withered lips drew back, exposing long, sharp fangs. Raqiyah continued all the same.

<No life lasts forever. Your land is gone. You cannot bring it back.> Adelbert thought he saw a real tear track down through the dried blood on her cheek. <What you have is only a mockery of life, and I weep for what has been done to you.> She reached out and placed a hand on the vampire’s chest, as if to bless him. <You are a dead man, Nakht-Horeb of Lahmia. You should have passed to Morr’s realm long ago.>

Closing her eyes, she began to pray. It took a moment before Adelbert recognised the words – Raqiyah was invoking the funerary rite, to bless a corpse and send its soul to Morr. Ritual as old as the Empire dug into the vampire’s bones, beginning the slow work of dislodging the spirit from the body. He spasmed and recoiled, the smell of burnt flesh drifting from where she had touched him. Raqiyah pressed closer, still chanting.

It was a valiant attempt. With a vicious back-handed blow, he flung her across the room, the high priestess hitting the stone wall with an audible crack of bone. The fires in the incense burners guttered low as the vampire stalked towards her, his shadow stretching out in the shape of an enormous hound.

<You DARE?> he snarled, seizing Raqiyah by the front of her robe and lifting her bodily off the ground. She lolled in his grip like a broken puppet. <You dare set your heathen gods on ME?>

The vampire's fury had carried him across the room, Adelbert and Jocasta all but forgotten. Tearing his eyes away from Raqiyah, Adelbert saw the way to the open door was clear.

---

Elsa

The initiates had departed and Elsa had settled back into her bed when she felt the tenuous thread of Aqshy she had shaped into her alarm spell stretch and break. Someone had touched the chest. Someone was in the chamber with the book.

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa

I knew it. I knew it. I knew it.

Elsa tried to rise... and found she could barely keep her balance. Too little blood in her body, too much pain in her shoulder. No state to be fighting vampires again. And yet she could not sit idly. How much could she accomplish from a hospital bed? More than most people, certainly. It would have to be enough.

Morrslieb, she called urgently. The raven was already awake, having perhaps sensed her agitation earlier. I need you to get to the barracks. I need you to get Shiny Plumage to the Temple of Morr. She paused. He won't be wearing his shiny plumage. He won't have time to put it on, either.

Via images rather than words, she communicated to him the locations of both the barracks and the temple. Was she sending Sieghard to his death? Gods, she would not forgive himself if he died and she was not there. But the future of the Reaches was possibly at stake tonight.


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Would love Elsa to help in person, but at 1 Wound and no Fate Points, I don't think anyone could blame me for playing it safe!

[LCP]

Sieghard, Ludo & Urgrim

On his straw-stuffed mattress in the castle barracks, Sieghard was deep in sleep. Urgrim was snoring somewhere in the corner, while overhead the grinning face of the Chaos Moon peeked through the high slit windows, sending shafts of moonlight crawling slowly across the old stone walls. A fluttering shadow moved in the light, but none of the sleepers stirred.

Sieghard woke with a start as something dropped onto his chest. Sitting up, he saw Morrslieb's face inches from his own - not the moon, but the bird. The raven opened its beak and squawked, loud enough to wake the dead.

Raak! it croaked, hopping up and down and flapping its wings. Raaaaak!

OOC:

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Sentinel, I'll leave you to control Morrslieb from here.

[Thragka]

Three Adventurers Gruff*

Urgrim startled awake mid-snore. "Hgrrn ... wha- bird! Bird!" His fingers had already closed around the handle of a throwing axe before he recognised Elsa's pet. The dwarf cleared his throat sheepishly, and put the axe back down.

"D'you - do you know what it wants?" he asked, pushing himself up. Do you know what it's saying? had been the original question. Before he'd got the words out, though, some long-dormant instinct in his hindbrain had stirred for the first time since adolescence, and suggested to Urgi's conscious mind that, honest though they were, revealing too much ignorance and insecurity in one go was an invitation to humiliation.

The dwarf shuffled around for his leathers; whatever the toothless thing wanted, it couldn't be good ...

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Spoiler: OOC

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*The runner-up header was Goldiflocks and the Three Bears, but Morrslieb's not golden and Ludo's not, umm, well, anyway.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"Food, usually," Sieghard said, trying to stifle yawn. That illusion was shattered when Morrslieb started pecking him and flapping more frantically. He had also never had the bird wake him in the night before, which was all the more reason for alarm.

"Something's wrong," he said, getting to his feet. "Hildebrand sent him for a reason. Help me wake the others. Hurry."

[RossN]

Adelbert

Adelbert lumbered away towards the door, his throat still on fire, the sense of pain as nothing compared to the sense of failure and shame around him. Yet another retreat...

He grabbed at Jocasta's arm to drag her with him to safety(?)

[LCP]

Adelbert

Jocasta resisted for a moment, her eyes still fixed on Raqiyah - but there was nothing they could do. She turned and ran with Adelbert, out of the sanctuary and up the narrow stairs, over the body of the unfortunate guard the vampire had left in his path.

The corridor at the top of the stairs was empty, with no sign of Klammenberg or Besnik. To the left, it led back towards the atrium, while to the right it led to the back door and the belltower. All around them, the Temple was waking - around the corner from the initiates' quarters, a gaggle of bleary-eyed initiates stumbled into view, Bertelis among them.

"Brother Schreiber," said one of the shaven-headed young Morrites, evidently not aware of Adelbert's anointing. Her eyes widened as she saw the claw-marks on his throat. "What's happening?"

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Barracks Boys

Stumbling down the corridor outside the room where he had been sleeping, Sieghard began hammering on doors, rousing the militia from sleep. There were a lot of them to rouse, and all the time, Morrslieb was flapping around him, cawing insistently.

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If my rough maths are right you've got about 100 militia in the castle (after deducting the Bunthafen garrison, the Volunteers seconded to Valdes and the boat guards). I reckon it'll take you about 15 minutes to get them all ready to the level of just throwing on some shoes and grabbing the nearest weapon, or 30 if you want them to get all their kit. If you want to take fewer people then it'll take proportionally less time.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"Wake up you lazy bastards!" Sieghard shouted, rushing down the hall and pounding on the doors. "Something's happened with Hildebrand! Grab your weapons!"

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Sieghard doesn't know that they're after the book, but he's got every reason to assume that someone (presumably mad about the fire) is after Elsa. He's in a hurry. He'll grab a mixed group of 20 with just their weapons and have Hanna round up the rest and start sending them after him (also in groups of 20) as quickly as they can.

(1d100)[72] vs 64 command to try to squeeze as many people out of as little time as he possibly can.

He'll initially be heading to the hospital. Presumably Morrslieb will redirect him somehow and he'll have to either leave one man behind or send him back to the castle to redirect tell the rest. We'll see how Sentinel handles it or if the others have any way of waking the soldiers more quickly.

Kinda crappy roll. What time of night is it?

[RossN]

Adelbert

The stain could never be erased.

A vampire - a pathetic, ramshackle walking corpse, a leech in human guise, a man with a will so weak and soul so shriveled he had willingly become that mockery, a nothing had defeated them. The humiliation was worse than the pain ever could.

And the thought of what was about to happen to Raqiyah was the only thing worse than that humiliation.

The shock of seeing the initiates, his own ward among them was like a bucket of cold water thrown in his face. He blinked at them a moment before somehow finding his voice. 'The temple has been invaded by a monster; we must evacuate everyone at once and let the guards deal with this.' Adelbert knew all of the guards were dead - or worse - by now but he was not about to incite a panic. He gestured at the Morrite girl. 'You keep charge here, I'm going to try and find the others. I will be back within moments. If you hear anything off head directly for the back door and straight for the barracks.'

Technically Jocasta should have been in charge but Adelbert suspected she was mindless with fear and trauma at this point and he didn't blame her. He turned at all but ran to the initiates quarters.

[LCP]

Adelbert

Running through into the initiate's quarters, Adelbert found a number of junior Morrites still milling aimlessly about. He wasn't sure how many there were in total, but from the number of beds it looked to him like if anyone was missing, it was only Besnik. With the Temple in its depleted state, that only left Grigore and Hieronymus - and Adelbert was pretty sure Hieronymus would have returned to his house on Summer Street.

[RossN]

Adelbert

'A monster is on the loose, we're evacuating the temple while the guards deal with it,' Adelbert rattled off the dithering Morrites. 'Follow me.'

He led them to join the group in the corridor. 'Go straight out the back door and to the barracks,' he told the older Morrite girl, 'and tell them the Temple is under attack. Bertelis,' He forced a smile as he addressed his ward so as not to panic the poor boy. 'Bertelis tell Commander Sieghard that Klammenberg and his partner are in the Temple. Got that? Good. Now all of you go and I and the others will join you shortly.'

Turning to Jocasta he took her hand. 'I think you should go too - I'm going back for Grigore.'

Unless there were arguments he left, heading for Grigore's quarters.