"The Grapes of Wrath" (Session 2)

The next morning, Eduard paid travel fare for the adventurers to ride alongside a farmer heading through Pritzstock by way of a horse-drawn cart. A light rain dampened spirits and the tight-lipped farmer had no knowledge of Pritzstock's supposed curse, but three hours later they reached the small village's outskirts.

Pritzstock was situated in a verdant valley, surrounded on all sides by rich vineyards on man-made terraces that climbed the nearby hills for acres. The village sported no more than a dozen or so farmhouses, each accompanied by a fermenting shed, and the only livestock about were a few pigs, goats and hens. The village had no surrounding wall, but was circled by a ditch that looked surprisingly easy to pass. Just the same, the adventurers took leave of their ride to talk to the lone watchman guarding the small bridge leading in. He asked a few perfunctory questions and directed them to speak to one Parzival Tristan Aschaffenberg, the local militia head. He was presently attending a rowdy meeting in the center of the village.

On the way there, Nicodemus noted that many of the household doors were covered with sprays of flowers which he recognized as the folk ward "nanny's fingers" - arrangements meant to ward off evil spirits. The villagers themselves appeared to be quite healthy when the adventurers approached the crowd, but there were angry shouts and calls for the militia to do more to resolve the problem. The Mayor, a stout man in his early 40s with shoulder-length black hair, eventually called for the villagers to disperse to calm down, intending to reconvene in a few hours. There was no mistaking that he was a Bretonnian, from his thick accent to his olive complexion to his theatrical gestures. Before talking to him, however, the adventurers briefly exchanged words with Parzival, a young nobleman to whom they all took an immediate dislike. Handsome, blond, and in his early 20s, Parzival comported himself with all the arrogance of the upper class. Nicodemus in particular felt the man could use a good murdering.

The Mayor proved much more approachable. Introducing himself as Henri-Phillippe Rocheteau, he invited the three to his well-appointed farmhouse to explain Pritzstock's dire straits. Rocheteau briefly introduced his wife, Elisabet, to whom he frequently spoke quite sharply, then poured some of the local vintage - "Pritzstock Reisling" - and continued. Pritzstock residents had, off and on for several weeks, been both watched by and occasionally attacked by skulls which floated above the ground by some unearthly magic. There were theories that the villagers had not paid enough tribute to the gods or that perhaps a nearby tomb had been uncovered to release them. This latter notion was Rocheteau’s current belief, as he claimed to have no major enemies beyond distant business rivals. What Rocheteau was most determined to impress upon the adventurers was that the wine harvest was to begin in just two days time, and he was certain that if the skulls continued to harass the village, the migrant workers who came to harvest the grapes would flee; the village's sole source of income would be crippled. Rocheteau explained that he had sent for troops, but that they would likely arrive too late, and so he offered a reward instead to Nicodemus, Fimgon, and Bargrimm if they could find the source of the skulls. He offered to put them up for the night, supply them if necessary, and answer any questions he could. Furthermore, he advised them to liaise with Parzival and the militia for maximum effectiveness.

The three decided to make an immediate start. As there was no inn or tavern - socializing in Pritzstock taking the form of frequent wine-tastings at one house or another - the group first visited the general store. The wares were mostly pricey luxury items and the older husband and wife owners were both gossipy and slightly snobbish. The husband, Ludovic, was the only one in the village who claimed to have seen the tomb that some believed to be the source of the skulls. It was many years ago, however, in his more adventuresome younger days. He told them that he had never seen it again, but that he and others had often searched for it in the forest to the northwest.

The trio then set out to find Parzival, and when Nicodemus hit it off with the bridge guard, the guard readily informed them that Parzival was probably off in the vineyards fooling around with his girl. On their way there, they came across Wuder Lechert – simply put, the village idiot. Grubby, portly, and reeking of cheap wine, Wuder watched them with interest but only occasionally seemed to be able to string more than a few words of Reikspiel together. He would lapse into a guttural mumbling that almost sounded like a language, but for the time being, none of the adventurers could place it. It didn’t help that Wuder had no teeth, though he was constantly slipping a small rock into his mouth to help him chew or just to toy with. Still, his mumblings seemed to indicate some knowledge of the secrets of the forest, so Fimgon plied his trust with a pair of shiny Gold Crowns. Wuder was enthralled - it later turned out he was just as excited by brass pennies - but didn’t seem to understand what he was supposed to do.

In the nearby vineyards, the party tracked down Parzival who appeared to be enjoying some company behind a vine-covered trellis. He emerged, straightened his chainmail shirt, and was anxious to lead the party to the source of the trouble. He wanted to prove his merit to his father, who’d set him up as the militia leader in Pritzstock to learn about adventuring before following the path of knighthood. Parzival being Parzival, however, he did little to work with the adventurers other than throw his weight around and toss insults their way. A more pleasant sight was his current paramour, the beautiful blond Isolde Guderian, shortly appearing from behind the same trellis. She flirted with the party, much to Parzival’s chagrin, but took her leave when they resolved to head into the forest to the north of the vineyards. Parzival rode on his warhorse, Friedrich, reluctantly agreeing to allow Wuder to join them after expressing his extreme distaste for the man.

It was Fimgon’s belief that Wuder was definitely entwined in the events, and so Wuder was given the lead. Wuder happily wandered in a generally northwestward direction, the wrong way from Ludovic’s remembered tomb. The party periodically discovered bundles of sticks hidden at the base of trees, but couldn’t figure their purpose and imagined they might be some kind of magical ward.

More immediately, Nicodemus sensed that the party was being watched and, indeed, spotted a tuft of bright orange hair protruding from behind a bush some distance off. He informed the group and Parzival charged at the observer only to see him race off deeper into the forest. They lost him for a time, but Bargrimm picked up the trail and, along with Nicodemus and Fimgon, left Parzival and Wuder behind for a time. They managed to catch up with their quarry and found him trying to hide in ambush in the lower branches of a tree.

There could be no doubt: this bare-chested, tattoo-strewn, orange-mohawked dwarf was a troll slayer. Fimgon and Bargrimm knew that this meant he was a disgraced dwarf, ready to die at any moment in hopes of redemption, so when he leapt from the tree with a great two-handed axe held at ready, they tried desperately to diffuse the situation. Fimgon spoke to him in his native Khazalid while Bargrimm turned his back to show that he intended no offensive action. The troll slayer was clearly confused, but perhaps he mistrusted the Kislevite accent beneath Fimgon's dwarven words or perhaps he was just mistrustful by nature. He whistled, as if for reinforcements, then held his ground in a silent stare-off that went on for agonizing minutes. The interminable wait was disrupted by Parzival, who came galloping down a hill and led the dwarf to take flight into the forest where they quickly lost sight of him. Parzival was reluctant to track down a troll slayer and encouraged the party to press westward, towards the tomb Ludovic had described. Reluctantly, and more than a little pissed at Parzival for ruining a potential lead, they agreed.

Hours later, with sunset approaching, they came across a clearing in a dense area of the forest. What they discovered looked nothing like Ludovic’s tomb entrance, but rather a trio of burial cairns with a central stone marker between them. On the marker was carved a series of dwarven runes, but unfortunately, none of the party knew their meaning. One thing was certain, though: the cairns had been undisturbed for years, as attested to be the overgrowth of moss and vines on them. Wuder, too, showed no sign of recognition. Could this possibly have been the same place Ludovic had spoken of?

With light fading, the group began heading back to Pritzstock. Shortly into their return trip, an eerie sight crossed their path – a skull, gliding southward through the forest toward the village. It didn’t seem to notice them, but Wuder raced after it excitedly, and when he approached it, it spun around, flew at him and – to everyone’s shock – simply snuggled up to his face like a cat rubbing against someone. In the gloom of dusk, the party was dumbfounded, watching but holding their actions as they waited to see what would happen next.

What happened next was a voice calling out, “Congress with demons! Your actions mark you as the source of this deviltry!” It came from a man they’d never seen before: early 30s, blond hair worn in a pageboy style, garbed in robes and bearing a quarterstaff. At his side was the dwarven troll slayer they’d spied earlier in the day, and there would be no holding him back this time. His magic-wielding partner began the melee, blasting forth a series of light beams from his hands that impacted cruelly against Wuder. Wuder went flying to the ground, a series of crater-like burns smoldering on his chest, but amazingly he seemed only terrified and exhibited no pain. Parzival moved to attack the skull, which now took on a more combative demeanor. Nicodemus loosed an arrow at the dwarf, creasing his skull and leaving a bloody line. Meanwhile, Fimgon engaged the dwarf alongside Bargrimm’s canine enforcer, Gretta. Bargrimm himself moved to engage the spellcaster, who attempted to ensorcell him but failed in the confusion of battle. He seemed powerful but untried, and quickly fell before the heavy swings of Bargrimm’s pick. The dwarf, who’d both bloodied Fimgon and been bloodied by him, bellowed his rage and made to attack Bargrimm. But his rage proved no match for the team's numbers and he shortly fell beneath a shower of blows. Parzival was more impressed with himself, however, having managed to shatter the skull he’d been fighting.

The party began to search through the belongings of their attackers in hopes of figuring out another piece of the puzzle. They turned up a few coins, the spellcaster’s grimoire and a letter that only Parzival had the schooling to read. It confirmed Fimgon’s worst fears: that the dwarf and the spellcaster were no villains. The letter was in fact from one of Pritzstock’s youngest inhabitants, the boy Seel Baldurich, whom the adventurers had yet to meet but who the mayor had cited as one of the first villagers to see the skulls some weeks ago. Seel had apparently sent the letter to his uncle, Otto Baldurich, a wizard being schooled at the cosmopolitan Middenland city of Altdorf, begging him to come and save the village.

“I thought that haircut seemed familiar...” mused Parzival, for both Otto and Seel apparently sported the same pageboy fashion. It seemed that Otto and his dwarven companion had been on the same trail the adventurers were, only to have jumped to fatal conclusions before they could compare stories.

And now it was too late to do anything for them, too late to make it back to the village before dark, and surely that lone skull Parzival had shattered wasn't the last of them...

"The Grapes of Wrath" (Session 1)

Fimgon, Nicodemus and Bargrimm made haste to put the town of Liebstedt behind them. They left behind one dead troll, the corpse of a vengeful bounty hunter, and a rueful tavern owner now short 20 Gold Crowns – good reasons to be gone when a contingent of Road Wardens passed through the town several days later.

Continuing north along the Old Forest Road, they made good time in Fimgon’s horse-drawn cart, only to find progress interrupted for several weeks by outbreaks of the Bloody Flux in many of the nearby towns and villages. The adventurers holed up in the Talabecland town of Uckrofurt till the stomach disease ran its course and the roads once again opened up.

Shortly out of Uckrofurt, the group was flagged down by the very Tilean merchants they’d gambled with over a month ago, notably the boisterous Giovanni. Giovanni was still enthused over the drinking and merrymaking of Sigmar-Tide, the celebration of the summer solstice celebrated throughout the Empire some weeks ago (but missed by the adventurers as they were putting distance between themselves and Liebstedt). Giovanni remarked on Liebstedt’s watered-down alcohol, a common practice for many Imperial towns saving their best booze for Sigmar-Tide. Giovanni invited the trio to stay at an inn with he and his fellow merchants to recoup their gambling losses of several weeks ago, and even offered to foot the bill for their room. True to his word, he still tried to take their money in a game of Reik’s Crossing that lasted late into the night, but after hours of intense play, it was Nicodemus who walked away with the pot of 25 Gold Crowns. Bargrimm did his best to imbibe all the inn’s liquor during the course of the evening, but succeeded only in losing control of most of his motor skills.

That night, somewhat distrustful of the Tileans, Bargrimm suggested posting a guard and even managed to stay awake for his shift. Fimgon’s shift came, and as Bargrimm slept, he began skulking across the room with plans to water down Bargrimm’s private stash of booze. Fate was with Bargrimm, however, as Fimgon tripped over the sprawled, twitching form of Nicodemus, deep in a dream state from which he would not awaken. Bargrimm tried to slap him awake to no avail, but it was Fimgon’s notion of using a pinch of snuff from Lars' snuff box that finally startled Nicodemus awake, sneezing violently. He looked like death warmed over, and confided the portentous subject matter of his dreams to Fimgon while Bargrimm slept off the day’s excess. The dream saw Nicodemus standing high atop a mountain circled by white wolves, all of them overrun by a tide of Beastmen and other creatures of Chaos.

The next morning, while Fimgon and Bargrimm ate breakfast, Nicodemus exchanged a few final words with Giovanni, who advised his friend to look to the gods for peace of mind. He presented Nicodemus with the card for his merchant house in Tilea, then took his leave. His advice proved invaluable in the days to come when Nicodemus’ visions returned with such vehemence that he began to see echoes of the dreams even by day and his body began to exhibit debilitating effects. The trio managed to find a shrine to Manann along the Talabec River, where Nicodemus offered up his fishing pole and began an hour of intense prayer. Fimgon took the time to clean up in the river, and was the first to spot three rowdy charcoal burners approaching. They were passing around a wineskin, and one in particular began verbally accosting Nicodemus. He accused Nicodemus of worshipping Stromfels, a more violent aspect of Manann paid tribute to by pirates along the Empire’s northern coast and outlawed in the Empire.

A fist-fight ensued, which turned more deadly when a fed-up Nicodemus drew his dagger. During the chaos of the fight, one of the charcoal-burners chanced to notice a terrifying sight: a large warherd of Beastmen stealthily fording the river and only a few dozen yards off. Most had goat-like faces, some had horns, others beaks, but all seemed seized by a fierce bloodlust to purge all humans from existence. Everyone broke for Fimgon’s horse-drawn cart at once. Fimgon pushed one of the charcoal burners to the ground as he made his way to the cart and spurred his horse into motion. Bargrimm leapt into the cart even as one of the charcoal burners misgauged the same jump and bounced hard off the side. Meanwhile, the Beastmen were emerging from the bank, several of their number bolting with preternatural speed at the cart on their hideous retrograde legs. Nicodemus’ former opponent fell beneath their fury, hacked by axes and gored by horns. Nicodemus himself just made it into the cart, almost overbalancing as Fimgon wheeled the cart onto the road, but Bargrimm's iron grip kept him steady. Fimgon noticed that one of the cart’s wheels had begun to crack when it hit a sharp rock, but there was no stopping for repairs at this point.

Dragging the cart down slightly was the charcoal burner who’d previously bounced off the side, now clinging to the back of it with his legs scrapping on the ground. Bargrimm tried to dislodge him as Nicodemus readied his short bow, but the hapless man managed to keep his grip and quickly became a secondary concern as Beastmen runners raced ever closer. Nicodemus’ bow shots went wide, disrupted by the cart’s violent shaking, but Bargrimm scored a lucky crossbow shot that embedded deep in one of the Beastmen’s arms. It still managed to leap into the cart, but Bargrimm body checked it with his full weight, sending it flying to an awkward landing on its neck. A loud crack indicated it had gone to Morr’s embrace, or wherever Chaos abominations go when they die. Meanwhile, the hapless charcoal burner had hauled himself onboard, where he was given a spare crossbow to help defend the cart.

As more and more Beastmen spilled onto the road in chase, Fimgon happened upon a clever idea and threw Lars’ snuffbox behind him. It clattered on the road, spilled open, and sent the lead Beastmen runners into fits of coughing and sneezing. Still, they persevered with bloodlust, and one, sporting a huge, jagged beak in place of a mouth, leapt onto the back of the cart where it was taken by surprise when Nicodemus flung Lars’ confiscated net at it. The net coiled around it and it flopped off the cart and tumbled to the ground.

Just then, tragedy struck as Fimgon’s horse reared up violently to avoid a tree that had fallen across the road. Everyone but Nicodemus was thrown to the ground, and with the Beastmen mere seconds from reaching the cart, it was the charcoal burner who leapt onto the horse and spurred it back into motion around the tree. Bargrimm made it onboard, but Fimgon had to run for it as the netted Beastman snapped out of his confinement and sprang at him. Fimgon struggled to haul himself onto the cart, but Nicodemus managed to get him onboard even as Bargrimm dispatched the unwary charcoal burner with a firm shove. The charcoal burner was shortly set upon by the Beastmen horde and sent to a bloody end, but with Fimgon back in the driver’s seat, the horde was rapidly falling behind. The beaked one was a persistent bastard, though. He vaulted aboard for one last assault, bringing his beak down with near bone-breaking force on Nicodemus’ arm. Reeling with pain and fury, Nicodemus crashed his mace down on the creature’s shoulder as payback. This gave Bargrimm time to heft his mighty pick, and he followed up Nicodemus’ attack by planting the full length of the pick through the Beastman’s shoulder and into its heart. It coughed a spray of blood, then fell to the ground for the last time.

Only minutes later, the exhausted crew pulled up to the bridge that crossed the Talabec River, joining Talabecland and the military-minded province of Middenland. A crowd was lined at the bridge, waiting for the rigorous inspection of the knights who manned a fortified tollhouse on the Middenland side. Fimgon let slip that Beastmen were nearby, panicking the crowd, gathering the attention of the knights, and earning the trio an armed escort past the throng. They were led to a tough-looking sergeant who believed their story (and the blood covering them) enough to dispatch a team of the famed Knights Panther into the woods to investigate. Meanwhile, he allowed the adventurers to clean up, and even provided food and the services of a battlefield medic to address Nicodemus’ badly swollen arm. Nicodemus had quaffed a nasty healing brew given him by the grateful Heidi Handler at the Strutting Cock several months past, and it had stopped his arm’s bleeding, but the healer kept it from getting infected and set him on the road to recovery. The three warriors spent the night in a dingy room, battered but safe.

The next morning, the sergeant interviewed them, taking down names, religious affiliations, and destination (for which he provided directions). He also provided a bit of history on Middenland, and it was Fimgon who caught the connection between the land’s favored symbol – the white wolf of Ulric – and the white wolves of Nicodemus’ dream. Fimgon related this dream, crediting it to a fictional old fortune teller to avoid accusations of occult visions. The sergeant felt that the mountain of the dream seemed surely to be Ulricsberg, upon which the fortress city of Middenheim sits, but he scoffed at the notion that it could be taken by Beastmen or anyone else. Still, he promised to inform his superiors just in case. He went on to take the standard toll, then hinted at a few more Gold Crowns for the upkeep of the clergy, the Order of the Howling Wolf. Nicodemus, still sitting on a number of Gold Crowns from his recent gambling winnings, paid the extra money.

Shortly north of the tollhouse, the adventurers were approached by an expensive coach whose driver, Hedric, had seen the respect given them at the bridge. He offered to pay them a few Gold Crowns to ride at their side as protection, as he was escorting the daughters of a wealthy merchant to Middenheim and wanted a little extra insurance to ward off potential bandits. The adventurers agreed and rapidly became friendly with both Hedric and the two lovely young blonds in his charge. After Fimgon talked up himself and his compatriots, the girls even spoke of their father hiring them in Middenheim.

The next day, however, their plans took a turn for the strange. A few hours before sunset, Nicodemus felt the twinge of his sixth sense even as the horrific sight of a flying skull terrified the horses pulling the girls’ coach. Fimgon wheeled to avoid the runaway coach, but the cart spilled into a ditch and its already cracked wheel splintered in the crash. The girls’ coach tumbled over even harder, releasing two of its horses, badly hobbling a third, and leaving one badly shaken. The skull itself flew off, but not before a good look at it chilled both Bargrimm and especially Fimgon to the bone. Hedric was a mess, too, though Bargrimm eventually managed to calm him down. Bargrimm also sent the girls away while he dispatched the doomed horse. The girls’ bodyguard, Gunder, was of no use, his neck broken when a trunk full of gowns had crashed down on his head.

Hedric pointed out that the nearest coaching inn was over 20 miles distant, but the girls remembered that they had only just passed the road to Grubentreich, a village where their aunt and uncle lived. It was only 10 miles distant, and so the group set out for it, the girls given leather armor in case the skull or any other dangers threatened along the way. They arrived shortly after sunset and were put up at the Black Sheep tavern, run by the girls’ aunt and uncle. Dinner was, of course, on the house, but inquiries about the skull were met with skeptical looks by patrons somewhat suspicious of outsiders. Eduard Jung, the girls’ uncle showed more interest. He’d heard a wine merchant describe similar sights in the nearby village of Pritzstock. Allegedly the village was cursed, the results of an uncovered tomb that supposedly housed great treasure. The adventurers floated the rumor past other patrons and heard a story that generally corroborated it. They also inquired about a wainwright to fix their broken cart, only to learn that the local wainwright was apparently off on one of his periodic alcohol-fueled forays to the woods. He’d be back, but not for a few days.

Perhaps time enough to pay Pritzstock a visit?

Gretta

Name: Gretta
Animal: Dog
Experience: 100

Profile (Main)
WS: 30 / 15 / 30
BS: -
S: 25 / 15 / 25
T: 25 /15 / 25
AG: 30 / 10 / 30
INT: 15 / 5 / 15
WP: 30 / 10 / 30
FEL: -

Profile (Secondary)
A: 1 / 1 / 1
W: 7 / 3 / 7
SB: 2 / - / 2
TB: 2 / - / 2
M: 6 / - / 6
MAG: -
IP: 0 / - / 0
FP: 1 / - / 1

Skills: Follow Trail, Perception +20, Swim
Talents: Flee, Keen Senses, Natural Weapons

Notes: A scrappy mutt found wandering the streets of the small town of Liebstedt, Talabecland, Gretta was plied with food and the skillful animal training of the miner, Bargrimm. She followed he and his friends to an abandoned mine at the foot of the Farlic Hills where she proved her fierceness and loyalty in a pitched battle with a one-armed troll.

Advancements: Gretta has the capability to grow into a truly fierce opponent, and even begins with a Fate Point usually reserved for players. She gains experience at half the rate of her owner, so if Bargrimm earns 100 experience points for an adventure, Gretta will earn 50. She must, however, be mostly present during the adventure to earn the experience. As with player characters, 100 experience points will buy ability increases in 5 point increments on the Main Profile, 1 point increments on the Secondary Profile. The only exception is Gretta's potential second attack, which will cost 200 points rather than 100.

"Armed and Dangerous" (Standalone Session)

Bargrimm, Kameena and Nicodemus knew when they weren't wanted. Under pressure from Herr Liebniz to leave Hermsdorf, they opted to re-supply at the town of Liebstedt, a slightly larger town only a day's journey north. Along the road, Nicodemus' knack for sensing danger led him to notice a horned Beastman pacing the party from the Great Woods that cuts a swath through the entire southern end of Talabecland. The party stuck close to the Kithband of elves traveling alongside them, and indeed, the elves drove off the Beastmen with a volley of arrows launched into the forest.

Shortly after dark, the trio had reached Liebstedt, a town of several hundred woodsmen, farmers and herdsmen. Here, the most cherished gods were Taal and Rhya, the Lord of Nature and the Mother of Earth. The first stop was The Troll's Arm Inn, aptly named, for a real (though stuffed) troll arm hung over the bar. The innkeeper, Lucius Schrieber, was only too happy to relate how, in years past, his father had lopped the arm off a troll that had terrorized the outskirts of Liebstedt. It was said that the troll, dubbed "Old Hob" by the locals, had burned to death; his arm was all that remained.

While Bargrimm and Nicodemus relaxed with a few drinks (oddly watered down), Kameena broke off to spend some time with a large group of Halflings partying the night away. Liebstedt, it seemed, was how to a sizeable Halfling community, and saw a surprising array of nationalities passing through (not too surprising - Talabecland touches more Provinces than any other, making it a key area for trade in the Empire). Another unusual customer was Fimgon, a surprisingly tall dwarf dressed in the furs of Kislev and walking with a pronounced limp. A down-on-his-luck smuggler, Fimgon was all too happy to recognize an old acquaintance in Nicodemus. In years past, Nicodemus had strayed a bit from the law by helping Fimgon sneak goods across the River Stir to avoid the taxmen, and now fate had revived the short-lived partnership. It was especially time, as Fimgon would soon be giving up the only three Gold Crowns he owned to a group of Tilean merchants in a card game. They also walked away with money from Nicodemus and the nearly drunk Bargrimm, but the experience seemed to endear Fimgon to the party and he asked to travel with them to the north.

As the night drew to a close, Bargrimm finally pushed himself into a drunken stupor with a drink poured from the Troll's Arm itself (a local custom). He vomited, passed out, and slept through to the morning. Kameena excused herself to spend a day or two with the Halflings, promising to make some inquiries in town to see if any of Bargrimm's relatives might turn up. Fimgon and Nicodemus dragged Bargrimm to the common room and the turned in for the night. Only Nicodemus had difficulty that night, as a horrible nightmare plagued his mind and left him pale and screaming upon awakening. He kept the vision he saw to himself, though, stoic as ever. Bargrimm, meanwhile, threw up what remained of the previous night's dinner on the barroom floor, nearly getting thrown out but for a few silver shillings tossed the innkeeper's way.

Most of that day was spent resupplying. Nicodemus brought arrows for his short bow and had his Estalian dagger appraised at the local blacksmith. The blacksmith, an Estalian enthusiast, seemed keenly interested in buying the dagger, but the canny Fimgon warned Nicodemus that the price he was offering was far below the blade's value. A violent incident was narrowly avoided. The pair also stopped at the local town crier, whose news included the pending arrival of a large contingent of Roadwardens (bad news for fugitives) and the sickness of a prominent local Halfling. The pair also joined Bargrimm at the local furrier, a cheerful Bretonnian named Merovich Lélevé who was willing to make a fur cloak out of the wolf skins Bargrimm had acquired in week's past. Fimgon talked Merovich's price down and the Bretonnian promised the cloak by the following day. Lastly, Bargrimm took it upon himself to take in a stray dog, lured by food and Bargrimm's natural abilities to handle animals. He named the fiesty girl Greta, and she was soon following him around happily.

The only task that went unchecked during the day was Nicodemus' planned letter to his mentor, Captain Lutzen, back in Stirland. Perhaps it slipped his mind when a pipe-smoking man approached Bargrimm and called him by his given name, Albert Riemund. The man, who called himself Heinz, claimed to have spoken with Kameena (still off with the Halflings) about Bargrimm's search. He told Bargrimm that there was a Riemund who ran a small mining operation in the hills to the west. Intrigued, Bargrimm bought the man a beer and pushed for the group to make for the mining camp before dark. As they were leaving, Fimgon paid a smelly beggar to go and hassle the foul-tempered blacksmith, and though the man could barely stand, he promised to do his best.

The trio reached the camp just as the sun was setting, only to find it deserted and long overgrown. The nearby house was deserted too, and after Fimgon triggered a small rockslide trying to sneak up on it, the group simply decided to walk boldly in. A strange smell greet them, as of a dead animal, and indeed, when Bargrimm crept down into the decrepit house's storage basement, he found a butchered deer covered in flies. Just then, Fimgon's sharp ears picked up what sounded for all the world like a huge animal sniffing around outside the house. The wood of the landing creaked under its weight, and the trio holed up in the supply room above the cellar. It was Bargrimm who spotted a huge shape passing in front of a window and guessed that it might just be a certain one-armed troll. He would shortly be proven right.

Fimgon sprang up the stairs for maneuvering room and was the first to see the beast. It was Old Hob alright, hideously burned, short a right arm and half his left leg, and nearly blind. Bargrimm tried to follow him up, but pushing past Fimgon, his foot went right through a rotting stair step. The commotion sent Fimgon tumbling over the side as Hob rolled and crawled with surprising speed to the base of the stairs. Meanwhile, Nicodemus vaulted over the hole in the floor of a nearby bedroom to pick at the beast with his shortbow. The first strike against Hob came from Bargrimm's fiesty mutt, Greta, who had followed her new master up the steps. She narrowly avoided a spew of acidic vomit from the troll as Bargrimm pulled his legs loose from the stairs.

Fimgon moved to the bedroom with a torch lit from Bargrimm's lantern. Nicodemus was having difficulty hitting the troll in the chaos of the battle, but followed through with Fimgon's plans to light the arrows in hopes of setting the troll on fire. Bargrimm, meanwhile, hopped down from the stairs and circled behind Hob, incurring a nasty bite from the troll in the process. Nicodemus' flaming arrows still missed their target, but set the wall next to Hob on fire. Fimgon moved to join the melee, Kislevian axe in hand, and took a violent gash from the troll for his troubles. Bargrimm scored a nasty hit to the beast's torso, though, spilling organs onto the floor, and Greta mangled its one remained arm. The adventurers could see that Hob was healing from the injuries, but not fast enough to deal with the abuse they were dishing out.

The tide of the battle finally turned when swing's from Bargrimm's axe forced Hob’s against the burning wall where his already injured arm was scalded and caught fire. Hob began lashing out in a frenzy as Nicodemus drew his mace and moved in to go toe-to-toe with the beast. Hob's one good arm was torn off by Greta even as Nicodemus severed its one good leg with a crushing blow from his mace. Spastic but still alive, Hob’s end came courtesy of Fimgon’s axe, which caught in the torso wound Bargrimm had started and split the horrible thing open like a broken egg.

As the house burned, the adventurers fled with its arm as a trophy, burning the stump to insure it would never grow again. They took refuge for the night in the nearby mine, Fimgon’s dwarven instincts assuring the party the place was untrafficked and would be safe for the night. And so it was.

The following morning, vengeance and conspiracy theories roiling in their minds, the group returned to Liebstedt. They first made their way to the Halfling quarter of the town, half-expecting to find Kameena dead. Instead, the lovestruck Halfling Kameena had danced with two nights prior directed them to her current residence: the home of a Halfling woman of important social standing, currently very ill and being cared for by Kameena. Kameena dressed her friends' wounds and explained to them that she was likely to remain in Liebstedt for a time. She had work and a community that would hide her from the trumped up charges stretching back to Krugenheim. She asked, though, that Bargrimm send her a letter on reaching Untergard to let her know how things turned out.

After that, the trio returned to the bar for a word with Lucius the innkeeper, who'd happily given them directions to the mine the previous day. Turns out, Lucius thought he was just sending some unruly patrons on a wild goose chase, having no knowledge Hob had still survived. That didn't do much to mend fences, though, and with Nicodemus hinting at pending violence, Lucius reluctantly gave the party 20 Gold Crowns - a partial cut of the reward Lucius' father had earned years ago for cutting off Hob's arm. The party also tried to gain an audience with the mayor of Liebstedt for the rest of the reward, but didn't even make it past the surly guards in the courtyard.

But what of Heinz, who’d directed the party to the mines with promises of Bargrimm’s long-lost kinsmen? Fortune finally shined on the adventurers when they found him taking in a drink back at the Troll’s Arm Inn. They hauled the terrified man into the alley outside and after a few minutes of blubbering excuses, he finally gave up his employer: Lars, the bounty hunter whose false claims had been exposed several weeks ago by Kameena, Nicodemus and Bargrimm. He'd shadowed the trio, learned of Bargrimm's search for kin, and used Heinz to bait a trap for them with a troll he knew still stalked the hills of Talabecland.

The group strong-armed Heinz into taking them to Lars' flat in a rough section of Liebstedt. Heinz knew where Lars was staying, as he was to pick up the second half of his payment upon confirmation that his enemies were dead. Heinz knocked on the door, Bargrimm opened it, and there was Lars, ready with his crossbow pointed at the doorway.

"That wasn't the right knock," Lars growled, but his bravado was cut short when Bargrimm pushed Heinz at him and used him as a human shield. Lars edged toward the window, but was cut off by Fimgon as Nicodemus plunked off an arrow that just missed Lars. Lars managed to get glancing shot off at Bargrimm, who'd now pitched the cowering Heinz to the ground, but shortly found himself surrounded by all three adventurers. Both Fimgon and Bargrimm chipped through Heinz's defensive swordsmanship to cause light wounds, but it was when Lars attempted to flee the room that he made his fatal mistake. Nicodemus cracked his mace down perfectly on Lars' shoulder, popping the arm out of its socket and severing an artery in the process. Lars had just enough time to stare at Nicodemus in astonishment before dropping dead to the floor in a pool of spreading blood.

Bargrimm caught a lucky break by feigning loud snores when the surly, dimwitted landlord came knocking at the door about the noise. The trio then ransacked the room, nabbing Lars' chainmail armor, his crossbow, 13 Gold Crowns, and the contents of his chest: a somewhat fancy snuffbox, three unmarked vials of liquid, a number of bounty posters, and a supply of clothes Lars must have used to infiltrate various strata of society. The terrified Heinz was stripped off belongings, scared straight with threats, and left to contemplate his future.

Afterwards, it was time to put Liebstedt behind before news of the mines' burning and the murder of a man became public knowledge. While Fimgon procured his horse and cart, Bargrimm picked up his new fur cloak, and before the sun had set in Liebstedt, the group was gone.

Bargrimm's cloak, when he had time to inspect it, proved to be somewhat comically short.

2nd Careers

Most everyone's still several adventures away from beginning their second career, but I'd like for the transitions to be smooth, and to set that up, it'd help a lot if I knew what your choices will be. For instance, Nick, D3 mentioned you were looking at Roadwarden. If that IS the case, let me know for sure so I can see about planting some subplots or adventure elements that put you in connection with a Roadwarden who might mentor you or throw a mission or two your way.

Fimgon's Career Exits include: Boatman, Charlatan, Fence, Ferryman, Seasman, Shieldbreaker, Thief
Bargrimm's Career Exits include: Charcoal-Burner, Engineer, Mercenery, Scout, Shieldbreaker, Smuggler
Nicodemus's Career Exits include: Boatman, Highwayman, Roadwarden, Seaman, Smuggler

And as a reminder, you CAN pick a career that's not among your Career Exits by paying 200 exp. and getting GM permission. It has to be a Basic Career, though, so no picking Wizard Lord, cheaters.

Rules Clarification: Non-Career Skills & Talents

For the most part in Warhammer, you're limited to chosing skills and talents that come with your career, but there IS a way to buy others. In short, you need to get GM permission before you can buy them, and if you do, they cost 200 exp. points (instead of the usual 100). It's not something that should be done often, but if there's a skill or talent you really think your character should have and it didn't come with your career, let me know and we'll see what we can do.

As an example, Randy wanted to take the Gamble skill for Fimgon since gambling was part of his backstory. Makes complete sense, and Gambling is hardly a skill likely to cause any game imbalance. Combat skills like Dodge Blow and talents like Strike to Injure are a lot less likely to be OK'ed. Those are skills you usually have to learn through some sort of formal military training, so unless you've got a reaaaaaally good reason, you'll have to wait till you hit an appropriate career for 'em.

Kislev

Since Randy's made Kislev his surrogate home (and it'd be a fun place to adventure one day in the future), here's a little more info on this wild land to the north...

Roughly analogous to real-world medieval Russia/Poland, Kislev is the most northerly nation in the Old World to be considered civilized. Or at least somewhat civilized. A land of snow, ice, and fierce winds, it's bordered by the Empire to the south, the Sea of Claws to the west, the Troll Country to the north, and the World's Edge Mountains to the northeast and east. Its people are famously hardy and fierce, as is necessary given the troll lands they border and their position as a critical buffer between the Empire and the brutal Chaos tribes that make camp farther north. The Kislevites know the Empire owes them a debt for staving off the hordes of Chaos time and again, and enjoy reminding Imperial citizens of this fact quite often. They call their fierce way of life "living in the wind" and tend to think their Imperial neighbors to the south have gone soft.

Many Kislevites live a nomadic existence, as the land is poor for farming save in the southernmost regions, and migrate from one grazing ground to the next. Limited materials for building leave Imperial citizens looking at the Kislevite homes as backwards and uncivilized, though the southern cities show a level of civilation. The most prominent religion is the cult of the bear god, Ursun, whose cult sometimes comes into friction with the cult of Ulric. Ursun is depicted as a massive cave bear, with a crown, teeth, and claws of glistening gold. It is said he can also appear as a man - burly, bearded, heavily built, and wearing only a loincloth. Other gods include Dazh, the god of fire and the sun, Tor, the god of thunder and lightning, and Taal, the god of nature that is also familiar in the Empire. Nature and household spirits are also worshipped as servants and messengers of the gods, and many Kislevites unconsciously follow small rituals to appease them.

The capital of the nation is the city that shares its name - Kislev - and it home to the land's present ruler, the Tzarina Katerin (also called the Ice Queen). The city of Kislev is the nation's closest city to the Empire and shows some cross-cultural pollination with it. And while it's been besieged many times, it's never fallen to invaders. Other major cities include Erengrad and Praag.

While Kislevites like to think of themselves as wholly independent, they have allied with men and elves against the forces of Chaos in the past, and in particular share a kinship with the dwarves (though they can't understand how dwarves can bear to spend so much time underground). In fact, they've been known to help dwarves clear mountain passes of goblins and other creatures. Kislevites have also allied with the Imperial provinces of Ostermark, Ostland, and Talabecland.

Further reading:

*Warhammer Core Book, pp. 225-226
*Wikipedia Article
*Games Workshop PDF (lotsa good stuff here)

Fimgon

Name: Fimgon
Race: Dwarf
Gender: Male
Current Career: Smuggler
Experience: 800 (0 unspent)
Height: 5'2"
Weight: 95 lbs
Age: 115
Eye Color: Copper
Hair Color: Blue-Black
Star Sign: N/A
Favored Deity: Ranald
Dooming: N/A
Siblings: 1 brother
Birthplace: Karak Norn (Grey Mountains)
Distinguishing Marks: Distinctive Gait

Starting Profile (Main)/Possible Advances/Current Profile

WS 41 / 5 / 41
BS 29 / 5 / 29
S 32 / - / 32
T 40 / - / 40
AG 20 / 10** / 30
INT 33 / 10** / 43
WP 33 / - / 33
FEL 24 / 10** / 34

Starting Profile (Secondary)/Possible Advances/Current Profile

A 1 / - / 1
W 12 / 2 / 12
SB 3 / - / 3
TB 4 / - / 4
M 3 / - / 3
MAG 0 / - / 0
IP 0 / - / 0
FP 2 / - / 2

Basic Skills: Drive, Evaluate, Gamble, Gossip, Haggle, Perception, Row, Search, Silent Move, Swim
Advanced Skills: Common Knowledge (Dwarves), Speak Language (Khazalid), Speak Language (Reikspiel), Speak Language (Kislevian), Trade (Miner), Secret Signs (Thief)
Talents: Dwarfcraft, Grudge-Born Fury, Nightvision, Resistance to Magic, Stout-Hearted, Sturdy, Dealmaker

Weapons: Kislevian Hand Axe (Hand Weapon), Dagger
Armor: Leather Jack, Leather Skull Cap
Trappings: Torches (2), Sling Bag, Horse & Cart, 3 Sets of Human-Sized Clothes (beggar, merchant, noble), Ornamental Snuff Box

Money: 11 GC, 1 S

History:Fimgon was born into a prosperous and renowned family of miners in the dwarven land of Karak Norn. His father was wealthy, wise and strong, his brother a skilled miner and excellent teacher, his family name proud and true. Fimgon was assured of a happy, healthy, rich life as a miner. There were only two problems. One, he was terrible at mining. Two, he hated it with every fiber of his being.

Fimgon was taller and skinnier than most dwarves, and he was ruthlessly teased by those his own age and by his older brother. He would have been bullied, but he discovered a gift for talking himself out of trouble and making deals. In fact, as he grew older, he managed to adapt his role to something of the unofficial quartermaster for the other miners. They would pick up the slack on his work, and he would make sure they had extra food, the best beer, a visit from a lovely dwarven lass (not that a human would agree with that estimation) and other luxuries.

He was a dwarf, and so he learned the dwarven arts of physical combat and heavy drinking, but his eye was always on the door. One day, after a particularly successful round of gambling and dealing with the other miners, he had enough gold and goods to make his escape, and he did. Leaving a note confessing his eternal shame at failing his family, he resolved to live his life more as a human in the outer world, and to wander and see if he could find his place in the world. Though the Gods could be cruel, surely they wouldn't be so cruel as to place Fimgon in a world that had no place for him.

Fimgon traveled a great deal in these younger days, surviving by petty thievery and increasingly bold bargaining and dealmaking. Eventually, he landed with a group of warriors bound for their homeland of Kislev. Fimgon found a lot to like with these heavy-drinking, boisterous humans, and they reminded him of many of the qualities he liked in dwarves. He found himself adapting to their culture, wearing their clothes, speaking their language, studying their God, even drinking their beer! His first loyalty remained to dwarven ale, of course. But he would grudgingly admit that Kislev spirits were "a close second."

With Kislev as his base, Fimgon began traveling the world again, this time with an eye towards making his name and fortune. He became a smuggler by trade, sneaking goods across borders and underneath the noses of law enforcement. He traded heavily in Kislev goods, but very little was out of the question for him.

Unfortunately, as dwarves often do, Fimgon got greedy, and when an unusually large and beautiful selection of furs and jewels from a Kislev raid came into the town, he decided to take his big chance. He loaded them onto his cart and rushed across the border of his adopted homeland, never to return unless it was at the end of a Kislev pike, and wandered out into the world, alone and homeless again but a great deal richer.

A shame, then, and perhaps irony driven by the Gods, that he was robbed by bandits two days' out of Kislev, losing all of his ill-gotten gains and receiving naught but a crossbow bolt in his leg that provided him with a permanent limp in return. Now Fimgon was alone, homeless and broke, and this time he couldn't blame the Gods, but only his own greed. He resolved to care more for family and friends in the future, and returned to the life of a smuggler, working his way up from nothing one more time.

Advancement Tracker:
FEL (100), FEL (100), INT (100), INT (100), Non-Career Skill: Gamble (200), AGI (100), AGI (100)

"Welcome to the Old World" Progress Map

"Welcome to the Old World" (Session 4)

The trio set about following the goblins’ tracks into the forest, having little difficulty as the goblins clearly feared no men so far from town or village. At the edge of the treeline, they heard shouts and Bargrimm crept ahead to scout. In a clearing down the hill from the treeline, he spied the goblin camp. There were nine of them, all gathered ‘round a bonfire over which roasted the corpse of the bandits’ horse. Their weapons were piled nearby, and a lone wolf gnawed at the remains of a bandit. Nearby, a path led between two hills, but more importantly, the terrified Bianka was bound to the standard of the tribe: a banner of flayed human skin bearing the mark of the cracked skull.

Bargrimm returned and the party set to planning on how to divide the goblins and better their odds. As they spoke, they heard one of the goblins addressing the others, but couldn’t make out his words. Shortly thereafter, they took cover when they heard goblins approaching. It was a group of three of them, their purpose unknown as they seemed unaware of the party until poor Brunhilda was sent out to distract them. It worked – partially – and the group was able to descend on the goblins with only a single shout getting out. Luckily the celebrating goblins below seemed not to hear it, and so the three were dispatched in secrecy. One Bargrimm hit so hard with his pick that its head tore completely off, impaled on it. He thought to kick the head down the hill, sending the goblins scurrying off to investigate, but mining it seems doesn’t make for accurate kicking skills - the head rolled directly into the encampment where the wolf began chewing on it. Still, several goblins left the weapons mound to investigate, partially accomplishing the intent to divide them.

Then, the heroes struck. One goblin died immediately, fatally injured by Nicodemus’ deadly crossbow. Meanwhile Kameena mounted Gildiril and sent slingshots flying at the camp as she kept to the cover of the treeline. Bargrimm put himself the most at risk, charging wildly into the camp and engaging multiple goblins, including one who’d mounted the wolf. Bargrimm sustained several nasty slashes, but gave better than he got, notably killing the wolfrider with a pick through its leg that nearly finished its wolf-mount as well. Near the treeline, a goblin archer faced off with Nicodemus, and when the pair found themselves face to face – neither weapon nocked – they took to bludgeoning each other with their bows. Nicodemus emerged the victor, cracking the goblin’s skull, even as Kameena and her pony were set upon by another pair of goblins. During the melee, Kameena was thrown from her pony, who took a nasty gash, but arose, sling in hand, to finish off the pair. The last of them was struck with a shot as accurate and deadly as the shot that had brought down Gaffin, but at point blank ranged it splattered the goblin’s brains as sure as a black powder pistol.

In the wake of the battle, no reinforecements seemed to be forthcoming, so Kameena patched up Bargrimm and Gildiril. The group freed Bianka, who was mostly in shock from the events of the last few days. Between crying fits, she took to Kameena as a surrogate mother.

While Kameena calmed Bianka down, Bargrimm found himself drawn to the lair of the goblins with Nicodemus close behind. The trail between the two hills led to a small cave, and after triggering the rockslide defense set above it, the pair crept in. Bargrimm, alas, walked right into a stalactite and wandered around in a daze while Nicodemus turned up a small sack of loot from the goblins. Amongst the squallid blankets, worn knucklebone dice, and other trappings of the goblins, Nicodemus also found a true prize: buried in the dirt was a jeweled Estalian dueling dagger. Though its precise worth eluded him, it was surely the most balanced dagger he’d ever hefted and he added it to his growing collection of them.

Hoping to make the town of Ossino (itself a few days from Hermsdorf) before nightfall, the group set out. Along the way, they carefully avoided the scene of the slaughter of Bianka’s foster parents. She was apparently unaware of their deaths, but was in too much of a state of shock for interrogation.

The party reached the town gates just as dusk was falling and a light rain was beginning, but despite a hurried ride from Kameena, the party wasn’t fast enough to get in before the gate to the walled town was locked. They parlayed with the sentry who didn’t think much of such a motley crew, but he grudgingly summoned the village headman, Hergard Brauer. Hergard believed their story, and with an offer to buy him a drink (they’d interrupted his meal), he even took the party to the Crowned Swan Inn himself. Bargrimm ordered him the best drink in the house and the party sat down for their first comfortable meal – the house specialty, boiled crawfish – in many days. Afterwards, everyone even sprung for a warm bath to cleanse the accumulated grit of their travels and fighting.

Kameena retired early to their room with Bianka and Bargrimm managed to rustle up a tavern wench for the night. Nicodemus, meanwhile, confronted a mysterious patron he caught stealing glances at him. The rough-looking man claimed only a natural curiousity in strangers arriving in town and asked Nicodemus about his travels. Word of goblins seemed to particularly pique the man’s interest, and shortly thereafter he asked a very curious question: whether the little girl accompanying them had been rescued from those same goblins. Nicodemus fumbled for an answer, but the man was able to read the truth and shortly thereafter excused himself from the conversation.

While Nicodemus contemplated the matter, he headed upstairs for bed even as Bargrimm found an enthusiastic strumpet to spend a few hours with in the room down the hall. Nicodemus found himself explaining to Bianka that her foster parents were indeed dead, which didn’t go over well at all. She began to cry, and before he or Kameena could figure out how to calm her, there came a knock at the door. Nicodemus opened it, only to find a sword at his throat. It was his “friend” from the bar, backed by two other scoundrels bearing cudgels. The man was wild-eyed and determined that Bianka was his daughter, gone missing years ago while picking berries. He was certain she’d been taken by goblins, but had apparently clung to the hope that she was alive even as his sanity had slowly slipped away over the years.

The man directed one of his friends – the both of them convinced he was in the right – to take Bianka while he watched over Nicodemus. Suddenly Nicodemus lunged, grappling with his captor and hauling him to the window. With a mighty heave, he sent the man shattering through the glass and down to the ground where he landed with a thump and fell unconscious. During the confusion, Kameena managed to wrest Bianka from the thug making off with her and Nicodemus faced off with his Estallian dagger against the other. He was shortly aided and abetted by Bargrimm, who’d heard the shattering window and come running with only sword in hand and a sheet around his waist.

When one of the thugs became seriously injured, he fled the room with Kameena close behind. She lost him outside, but took time to look in on the unconscious leader of the rogues. Using her medical skills, she brought him to consciousness. His name was Moritz Hausier, and touched by Kameena’s mercy, the error of his delusions came crashing down on him. He broke down, begged Kameena’s forgiveness, and raced off into the darkness of the town. His remaining friend fared worse, however, taking a fatal jab from Nicodemus’s dagger.

The party regrouped in their room, but shortly had to deal with the innkeeper who’d been roused by the commotion. Kameena’s charm plus a few gold crowns from Bargrimm managed to convince him of their righteousness. He called up his son with a blanket, wrapped the body of the thug in it, and promised to “take care of it” as long as the three left town the next day and never came back. They were only too happy to oblige.

After several days of pleasantly danger-free travel, the trio found their way to the town of Hermsdorf. It took little time to find the well-appointed home of Herr Wilhelm Liebniz, the steward of Baron von Radische. With the official seal of the Baron as proof of their story, the adventurers had little trouble convincing Herr Liebniz of their story. However, his response was not what they wanted to hear: the Baron has been dead for several days. The victim of a suspicious hunting accident while in the company of the Grand Duke and the Baron's rival, Baron Waldemar von Zutzen. Waldemar had already positioned Waldemar in Radische's role, as Radische had no recognized heir at the time of the accident. In a cruel twist of irony, Herr Liebniz explains, it was fears over such bloody rivalry that had led Radische to send Bianka away in the first place. He'd thought his position secure enough to bring her back, but clearly this was not the case...

Herr Liebniz explains that he will assume the care of Bianka to raise her in accordance with her station. He offered the adventurers a relatively measly 10 Gold Crowns apiece, explaining that they would be expected to keep Bianka's true identity a secret lest she become a victim of treachery like her father. Bargrimm balked at the paltry reward, but ultimately kept his tongue. As the adventurers left, Liebniz advised them that they would probably do better to seek their fortunes elsewhere...

"Welcome to the Old World" (Session 3)

Before the group continued on, Kameena spent some time talking to the Roadwardens who treated her as a celebrity for her dead-on slinging. They decided to give her Gaffin’s pony and she also bore witness to his fate: after a beating from the Roadwardens, he was thrown in the very pit his lies landed Emmerich in. Naked, his hair and muttonchops shaved, he would be left in the pit with no food and water until the Roadwardens made a return patrol a week later. If he was still alive, he’d be turned loose in the wilderness to fend for himself.

Kameena and friends didn’t feel much pity for Gaffin, but it turned out his pony, Gildiril, wouldn’t budge without a secret phrase from his master. In exchange for food and water, Gaffin shouted the vulgar Halfling phrase to her, and he was left to his fate.

With fair weather in the skies, the party continued south along the Stir. After a full day’s travel, they made camp in the woods, erecting a simple tent. The woods of the Old World are dangerous, though, and the trio were awakened in the night by a ravenous pack of wolves. The group made fast work of the wolves, with even Brunhilda the goat managing to kill one. Flush with victory, Bargrimm took what skins he could from the mangled wolves and regaled the party with the dirtiest dwarf jokes he knew. Meanwhile, Kameena put her surgical blades to use and fashioned a helmet for Brunhilda from one of the wolf skulls. She also made a necklace of teeth for Nicodemus.

The next day, the group was approaching a bend in the road when a strange feeling came over Nicodemus – his sixth sense warning him of danger! The group hid in the trees as a small group of sword-wielding priests of Sigmar rounded the bend, a cart of their injured just behind them. They spotted the group, declared them bandits, and readied to fight them, but when Bargrimm sheathed his sword and the others followed, tensions disappeared. The priests claimed to have survived a recent attack by bandits, but curiously refused to allow Kameena to treat any of their injuries; they claimed they were tests from Sigmar that they alone had to bear. Nicodemus warned them of reports of goblins, and the two parties went their separate ways.

Not an hour later, Bargrimm spotted a murder of crows hovering just beyond a rise in the road ahead. Creeping up, he came across a scene of carnage. There were ten bodies in all – two in priest robes, the rest apparently farmers - all bearing violent sword wounds. When Kameena and Nicodemus took the scene in, both were chilled to the bone and Nicodemus actually lost his morning breakfast. When he recovered, he remarked how odd it was that the Sigmarite priests would leave their dead behind, unburied.

The mystery was shortly cleared up when a lone survivor, a grievously injured middle-aged woman, was discovered. Even Kameena’s considerable skills weren’t enough to save her, but before dying she managed to gurgle out her tale: seven years ago, the Baron von Radische had entrusted she and her husband to care for his newborn daughter. They were returning the girl to the Baron in Hermsdorf when bandits disguised as priests set upon them, killing all save the girl. The woman charged the group with saving the girl – Bianka – and returning her to Hermsdorf where they were sure to collect a great reward.

Kameena found a medallion in the woman’s possession and her knowledge of heraldry confirmed it to be the genuine crest of the Baron (a ferret standing upright, holding a sword). The fact that the woman had invoked the gods weighed heavily on the superstitious Nicodemus. Bargrimm, on the other hand, wasn’t in a hurry to get involved until Kameena, the person he was most indebted to, managed to sway him. The party set off after the bandits.

Travelling late into the gloomy night with occasional wolves pacing them, the group finally made camp upon realizing they might have actually overtaken and passed the bandits in the dark. The next morning, the scouted a little further ahead, found the burnt-out tollhouse they’d passed the previous day, and the remains of a recent campfire. Bargrimm was sure it was the bandits’, and from the handful of still glowing embers, knew that the group must be close on their heels.

Within an hour, the group had caught up with the bandits, only to discover the bandits had met an ironic fate. They themselves had been ambushed by goblins, and not a man survived. Among the carnage were several goblin bodies and hacked limbs, one of the goblins having an image of a split skull etched into his forehead as a scar, but Bianka was nowhere to be seen. The party did find some grain and other supplies in the overturned cart of the bandits, along with the note from the Baron that called for the girl's return. Clearly the bandits had taken it off the girl’s foster parents and realized her worth. Whether the goblins had taken her for the same reason or something more sinister, their trail into the gloomy forest beckoned...

"Welcome to the Old World" (Session 2)

The following morning, a talk with a woodsman who knew the secret signs of the rangers convinced Nicodemus that perhaps the prisoner’s tale of innocence had merit. Bolstered by a promise of monetary compensation from the prisoner, the others agreed to join Nicodemus in a trip to the village of Gersdorf. To that end, they boarded a riverboat headed that way, only to find the river blocked by a downed tree about a mile south of Gersdorf.

With Kameena’s goat in tow, the trio set off to hike the rest of the distance, but a creek bed swollen with rushing rainwater proved an obstacle. Nicodemus leapt across with relative ease, but getting Kameena’s goat across landed the entire group in the creek, all clinging to the rope around her neck. An extremely drunken Bargrimm did his best to panic while Nicodemus and Kameena managed to swim close enough to the river’s banks to haul everyone out. With a little more effort, they crossed the stream and were shortly in Gersdorf.

There they found Emmerich’s wife, Heidi, and daughter, Gretchen, with little trouble. The man’s tale of false accusation, it seemed, was true, and Heidi agreed to join them on the boat to testify on her husband’s behalf. A few extra shillings tip to the boat’s pilot ensured a speedy trip back, but even so, the group returned to the Strutting Cock almost too late. The roadwardens were already there, alongside the bounty hunter Lars and the supposed witness to Emmerich’s crimes, Gaffin. Alas for Lars and Gaffin, the testimony of Heidi, Gretchen, and our heroes secured a reprieve for Emmerich.

Lars took a harsh slap to the face from the captain of the roadwardens and was warned that he’d hang if he ever misled them again. Apparently Lars’ past service to them had saved him, but he fixed our heroes with a look of hatred before fading into the crowd. Less likely to receive a merciful treatment was Lars’ halfling accomplice, Gaffin, who tried to sneak to the barn to make his escape by pony. Spotted by Nicodemus, who loosed a crossbow bolt at him, Gaffin was almost at the gates and freedom when a stone slung from Kameena caught him square on the helmet he’d donned. It was a stunning shot that rang out throughout the courtyard of the inn, leaving a deep dent in the helmet and sending the unconscious Gaffin flying off his pony and into the bushes.

From a grateful Heidi and Emmerich came 7 Gold Crowns as compensation for our heroes’ efforts. Bargrimm snapped up the money greedily. In addition to the money, the Handlers also offered up a healing draught brewed up by an old herbalist in their village. Its exact properties have yet to be seen, but it’s said to cure minor injuries.

"Welcome to the Old World" (Session 1)

It was late spring in the month of Sigmar-Tide when fate brought three unlikely adventurers together…

The burly miner Bargrimm, proudly bearing a dwarven name over his given Imperial name of Albert Reimund, had been traveling the Empire for years in search of his remaining family. It was in the Talabecland city of Krugenheim that he picked up his best lead yet, courtesy of a chance meeting with the halfling Kameena Kettlebright. She was a barber-surgeon plying her trade in the city, but like all Halflings had an insatiable interest in family history. She viewed Bargrimm’s search as a genealogical mystery, and within weeks had turned up a potential family member: Engelhart Reise, thought to be residing in the northern province of Middenland in the town of Untergard.

Correspondence was sent Engelhart’s way, but before any response could return, Kameena landed in a bad spot: called to perform surgery on a minor Stirlander noble visiting Krugenheim, she found herself charged with murder when he unexpectedly died. It seemed likely a thief's poisoned blade had ended his life (his actual injury was minor), but his Stirlander entourage found more satisfaction in shifting blame to a halfling scapegoat. Kameena fled the town with Bargrimm close behind, only to inadvertently involve a ferryman, Nicodemus Drakenhoff, working along the nearby river. Locals were already suspicious of the dour, taciturn Nicodemus, little suspecting that his gloomy outlook came as a result of his parents having been executed as spies in his youth. His seeming “sixth sense” only increased the locals’ suspicion, and they were quick to turn on him when he assisted the fugitives Kameena and Bargrimm.

With little to keep him in Stirland and his own reasons for wanting to visit Middenland’s capital of Middenheim, Nicodemus joined the pair (alongside Kameena’s goat, Brunhilda) heading west down the River Stir. Before long they ditched his barge to avoid attention and took to foot. After several weeks, they passed the village of Gersdorf, and some miles south of it they took shelter from a storm at the inn of The Strutting Cock. The inn was abuzz with word of a captured bandit, Heinz Gerber, locked up and being held till the Roadwardens could come to deal with him. Bargrimm, meanwhile, was abuzz with beer and ale, making up for having missed the dwarven holiday of First Quaff during his time as a fugitive. He shortly found himself living it up with the locals in a card came of Reik’s Crossing, where he won some change and managed to convince Nicodemus to play. Nicodemus walked away with a sizeable pot and the ire of one particular gambler.

Meanwhile, Kameena played darts with the only other Halfling at the inn, the supposed merchant Gaffin Tumblewine. Gaffin regaled Kameena with tales of his near-robbery at the hands of Heinz Gerber, and in the process managed to talk her into spending the night with him. Thus distracted, she missed the evening’s brawl as Burt, the drunken patron still angry at losing to Nicodemus, faced off with him. Harsh words were spoken and suddenly fists were flying. With a little help from Bargrimm, Nicodemus laid Burt out flat. The pair even walked away with a few extra shillings thanks to Bargrimm’s enterprising spirit (he’d bet on his pal Nicodemus while the other patrons put their money on good ol’ Burt).

Before last call, Kameena made a trip to the privy outside and encountered the alleged outlaw, Heinz Gerber, locked in a pit covered with a steel grate. He professed his innocence, claimed his real name was Emmerich Handler and that he was only visiting the area looking for work, and asked her to bring his wife from the nearby village of Gersdorf to prove his story. Unconvinced by his pleas, Kameena retired for the evening and joined Gaffin for a night of halfling debauchery. Bargrimm passed Gerber’s locked pit as well. He, too, was unconvinced, though he found the pit to be far more convenient than the privy to relieve his bladder; as a result, the supposed Heinz Gerber was rained on for the second time of the day.

During the night, Nicodemus slept alongside other travelers in the inn’s common room and Bargrimm found a pub wench to keep him warm in the barn outside.

Brunhilda & Gildiril

Name: Brunhilda
Animal: Goat

Profile (Main)
WS: 30
BS: -
S: 21
T: 21
AG: 30
INT: 15
WP: 40
FEL: -

Profile (Secondary)
A: 1
W: 6
SB: 2
TB: 2
M: 5
MAG: -
IP: -
FP: -

Skills: Swim
Talents: Natural Weapons, Flee

Notes: Brunhilda is Kameena's beloved goat. She has a gilded nose whose origin remains a mystery and has proven adept at slaying goblins.

Name: Gildiril
Animal: Pony

Profile (Main)
WS: 25
BS: -
S: 35
T: 35
AG: 35
INT: 10
WP: 10
FEL: -

Profile (Secondary)
A: 1
W: 12
SB: 3
TB: 3
M: 6
MAG: -
IP: -
FP: -

Skills: Perception, Swim
Talents: Acute Hearing, Keen Senses

Notes: Gildiril formerly belonged to the halfling con artist, Gaffin Tumblewine. Gildiril was awarded to Kameena by the Road Wardens who took Gaffin into custody after Kameena beaned him with a shot from her sling. He was trained by Gaffin not to respond to commands until a particular code phrase was whispered into his ear.

Kameena Kettlebright

Name: Kameena Kettlebright
Race: Halfling
Gender: Female
Current Career: Barber-Surgeon
Experience: 600
Height: 3'9"
Weight: 130 lbs
Age: 44
Eye Color: Dark Brown
Hair Color: Copper
Star Sign: The Broken Cart
Favored Deity: --
Dooming: "Green is thy undoer."
Siblings: 2 (1 sister, 1 brother)
Birthplace: The Moot
Distinguishing Marks: Missing tooth

Starting Profile (Main)/Possible Advances/Current Profile

WS 16 / 5 / 16
BS 42 / - / 42
S 22 / - / 22
T 27 / - / 27
AG 36 / 10** / 46
INT 36 / 10** / 46
WP 30 / 10* / 35
FEL 45 / 5* / 50

Starting Profile (Secondary)/Possible Advances/Current Profile

A 1 / - / 1
W 11 / 2 / 11
SB 2 / - / 2
TB 2 / - / 2
M 4 / - / 4
MAG 0 / - / 0
IP 0 / - / 0
FP 2 / - / 2

Basic Skills: Charm, Gossip, Haggle, Perception, Swim
Advanced Skills: Academic Knowledge (Genealogy/Heraldry), Common Knowledge (Halflings), Speak Language (Halfling), Speak Language (Reikspiel), Speak Language (Breton), Trade (Cook), Heal, Read/Write, Trade (Apothecary)
Talents: Night Vision, Resistance to Chaos, Specialist Weapon Group (Sling), Hearty, Savvy, Resilient, Surgery

Weapons: Axe, Dagger, Sling
Armor: Leather Jerkin
Trappings: Trade Tools (Barber-Surgeon), Rope (20 yards), Cooking Pot, Water Skin, Cloak, Pack, Blanket, Wooden Cutlery, 12 Matches, Crowbar, Pony with Saddle & Harness, Goat (Brunhilda), Rations (1 Week), 5 Wolf Tails
Money: 21 GC, 6 S, 200 P

History: Kameena Kettlebright, of the Gipfel Kettlebrights, is the second of three children. Her elder sister, Marilena, is a thief like their father, Axel, and her brother Oskar is a messenger based out of Salzenmund. Their mother, Heidi, is a burgher dealing mainly in good luck charms, religious relics, and collectible tankards, but she also serves as a fence for the goods brought in by Marilena and Axel. Kameena is unashamed of the source of her family's modest wealth, but has no interest in the family business beyond the standard halfling love of knick-knackery. She's a charismatic but vain halfling who takes very particular care of her hair and is fond of cutting, dying, braiding and shaving shapes into the hair on her feet. Her skill with razors, shears, and other blades is also evident in her cooking, which is given to much more intricate decoration than most halflings bother with, including shapes cut into pie crusts and turnips carved to resemble hydrangeas.

Unsettled by the lush countryside in the Moot (on her 10th birthday, her Dooming has been pronounced the color green), Kameena decided to make her way to a larger city, where she joined the Barber-Surgeon guild and expanded her love of cutting to include not just hair, but moles, boils and amputations as well. She's also been making some attempts at dentistry lately, which explains her missing right incisor, and picking up a little extra silver helping humans figure out their own ancestry. She's constantly amazed that not only do most humans barely know the names of their great-grandparents, they aren't even capable of reading the tax records or marriage and death records that might help them unlock these minor mysteries.