IRON KINGDOMS: The Journals of Heinrich Uberlich - Final Chapter
ReeboKesh
First Post
Friday, March 8th, 603 AR
“The Longest Night”
It has been several days since I last wrote in my journal. I have been busy helping with the clean up operation after the events of the Longest Night. The bath I just had, helped to wash away my aches and pains as well as the stench of death that permeates the very city itself. Much has happened in the past week and half and I have learnt many things about Corvis, it people, its past and even a few things about myself. I have not seen the others since the Longest Night. The last I saw of Cromwell he was walking away from the church muttering about being ignored by others. Father Darius is still resting after his ordeal and Yama Khan is no doubt collecting research material for his necromantic art. Anyway I shall start at the beginning, the night we returned to Corvis, the Longest Night.
Having left Fort Rhyker behind us we approached Widower’s Wood. From the forest edge emerged a group of skeletons. Each held a chain and dragged along another undead creature, a rotting corpse of putrid flesh and swamp plants. A “Swamp Shambler” is what Darius called it. An undead creature of vengeance, created when a poor soul is left to perish in the swamp by his companions. It is said that the Swamp Shamblers seek to kill their former companions and turn them into undead like themselves. He told us that in our current wounded and exhausted condition even one of these Swamp Shamblers would be more than a match for the four of us. We wisely took Darius’ advice and proceeded to distance ourselves from as much as the Widower’s Wood as possible.
Eventually though we were forced to take the road through the woods. Except for sighting more skeletons with Swamp Shamblers we made it through without further incident.
We arrived at Corvis’ north gate at four hours to midnight, overhead a dark shadow was slowly creeping across the moon, the eclipse was happening; the Longest Night would soon be upon us. We could hear from the celebratory noises that the festival was in full swing. Two guards approached us and we explained who we were and asked for the whereabouts of Captain Helstrom. We were told that he would probably be found near the Docks overseeing the festival there. We paid the two guards to stow our wagon and its valuable cargo in one of the guard stables and proceeded to the Docks. First though we stopped by the arcane trinkets shop and purchased some snooze potions then retired to Cromwell’s room at The Gargoyle’s Pole Inn. Inside his room were several barrels of lard. I could not be bothered questioning him about these so I drank the potion and promptly fell asleep. I dreamt of an undead army overrunning the City of Corvis and putting its inhabitants to the sword, I even saw my head and those of my companions impaled on pikes outside the city walls and the figure of Alexia laughing down on us. Naturally I awoke drenched in sweat. Four hours had passed and Darius and Yama Khan were also stirring. Cromwell stood at the other side of the room playing darts. We quickly prepared our spell repertoire and left the inn for the Docks.
Once we reached the Falling Star tavern we spoke with Captain Helstrom. Our findings did not please him in the least; he also seemed unimpressed by the length of time it took us to reach him. We argued that had we tried to cut through the Widower’s Wood and the fields of the dead we would not be having this conversation now. The five of us left the Falling Star tavern and headed for the North Gate as fast as we possibly could through the crowds. I must mention that Cromwell did return the two masterwork daggers Helstrom loaned him. I would have assumed he would have hoped that Helstrom had forgotten about the daggers. Obviously I have judged Cromwell too harshly in the past, maybe some of my high moral standards and respect for laws have rubbed off on him.
At the North Gate, Helstrom commanded one of the watchtower guards to fire a flare round over the fields. The loud boom of the cannon almost drowned out the noise from a festival for a brief moment. Out across the fields the flare illuminated just that, fields. No undead army, no Swamp Shamblers, nothing. Then it hit us, the catacombs! That’s were Alexia’s undead army would be coming from, not over the city walls but under them! The undead army did not need to breathe; they could even march along the riverbed unhindered and unseen! Alexia would be heading for one place, the crypt of her mother. Captain Helstrom understood what we had to do; he handed us two flasks of fire retardant liquid to put out any spot fires on the way and wished us luck. We saluted Captain Helstrom and raced off toward the Church of Morrow, praying we would not be too late.
At one of the many crossroads we heard terrified screams coming from a side street. Knowing that we could not let innocents be endangered we rushed to the sound of the screams. From a sewer grate undead skeletons and a Swamp Shambler were emerging, attacking the revelers in the street. We sprang to action to beat back the undead invaders. My combat training proved quite useful as I downed skeleton after skeleton. At one stage during the fight we thought Father Darius lost when he was dragged down into the sewer but Cromwell rushed to his aid and pulled him out. Not having much choice in the matter, we piled the bodies of the unfortunate citizens onto the sewer grate to prevent more skeletons emerging. Once again we raced off.
We fought several running battles with the skeletal invaders as we made our way to the Church of Morrow far too many for me to recount or even want to remember. We did however encounter a Bridge Troll that had wandered into the city. It actually was making short work of a group of skeletons and knowing full well that fighting the troll would surely get one of us, if not all of us killed, we gave it a wide berth and continued on our way. I regretted having to leave the Bridge Troll there but I have vowed to myself that I would tie up that loose end soon.
Finally we reached the main bridge that led to the Church. The sight that greeted us was not a comforting one. It looked like Alexia’s entire skeletal army was converging on the church. We beat passed several skeletons and rushed to a small group of militant clerics, including Father Dumas in full battle regalia. We were healed of our injuries and told to help hold the bridge we had just crossed. We could see two rafts laden with skeletons moving toward the bridge, grapple lines ready to climb up. We acted quickly to set a trap of oil before us and I rushed forward to slow the skeletons down a little by burning their grapple lines. The skeletons retreated to the edge of the bridge and climbed up the stairs that lead down to the water. I rejoined my companions and we waited.
When the skeletons crossed the pool of oil, Cromwell fired a flaming arrow into it. It was quite a sight to see the skeletons marching through the flames oblivious to the fact that they were catching fire and being consumed by the flames. We fought on and managed to defeat this contingent of walking bones. One of the skeletons possessed a small pistol which a claimed for myself after the battle. I have cleaned the pistol up and now it and its partner, the pistol Cromwell gave me, hang by my side. When the city is back to normal, I intend to have a small plaque mounted on each pistol, inscribed on them will be the names I have christened them with, “Law” and “Order”.
We retreated to the line of clerics and sought some more healing. This time we returned to the bridge with some help, four members of guard watch, one of them a trollkin named Morrgg. The next wave of skeletons had obtained themselves a light cannon. We rushed to the other end of the bridge hoping to stop them from firing. I downed a potion of Spider Climb and leapt of the side of the bridge, grabbing on to the wall itself and crawling along the side of the bridge. Alas we were too late and the cannon fired narrowly missing Father Darius but knocking him of his feet nevertheless. With the aid of the guards and the trollkin Morrgg we quickly dispatched these skeletons and pushed the cannon off the bridge and into the river. Then we saw it a huge mass of skeletons lining the banks of the river around the church. As one they dropped into the river and eventually emerged on our side. We had no choice; we turned and ran back to the church. Father Dumas and the remaining few cleric and guards had gathered around the crypt of Lexaria Ciannor. The skeletal army surrounded us, forming a ring around the crypt. They stood there watching, unmoving, waiting. The it suddenly became very dark, above us the eclipse was complete, and with it came Alexia and the four undead witches, flying through the air with the aid of magic. The formed a smaller circle around the crypt of Alexia’s mother and began to chant. Cromwell moved forward and tried to get Alexia’s attention. She ignored him, lost in her incantation. In frustration he hurled a dagger straight and true at her exposed throat. It thudded against and invisible barrier and clattered onto the stone path around the crypt. With tremendous force the crypt doors exploded outwards, the debris pulverized by the force of the magic these five witches commanded. As one, the four undead witches entered the crypt and retrieved the shrouded body of Lexaria Ciannor, the former leader of their coven and Alexia’s mother. Alexia herself reached into the crypt and drew forth a black bladed greatsword of malevolent design. She thrust the sword upward with a cry of triumph. Suddenly a robed figure appeared behind her in a flash of lightning and thrust a curved glowing dagger into her back. What happened next was as if the sands of time had begun to trickle ever so slowly, Alexia stumbled forward in pain and the greatsword flew from her hands passing effortlessly through the magical barrier and clattered to the ground before the feet of one of us. Father Darius picked up the sword. At the same time a wave of skeletons surrounded Alexia’s mysterious attacker and dragged him away from their mistress. Father Darius turned to Father Dumas, a look of uncertainty in his eyes. But any helpful suggestions would not be forthcoming, for Father Dumas was in shock from the realization of what his niece had done.
The skeletons surrounding Alexia’s attacker were blasted apart by a wave of energy from the man and he strode forth toward Father Darius. “Look what she has done to this city!” said the mysterious mage. “Give me the Witchfire Blade and I shall undo all the evil she has wrought!”
“No!” cried Alexia “Do not trust him, he is not the benefactor you think him to be. Give me the sword and I shall put my army to rest and leave the city.”
Darius looked at me and I simply said “Do not use the sword, it is a thing of evil.” Alas he ignored my warning, raised the blade above his head and cried out “Alexia, your time has come!” Then he simply slumped to the ground. I rushed to his side, I feared him dead for his skin was of such pallor as too indicate death. I hefted the Witchfire Blade and turned to the mysterious mage “Who are you?” I asked.
“It matters not.” he replied. “Give me the blade, before it’s too late!”
“Do not do it! Give me the blade and I will leave the city in peace!” cried out Alexia.
Once again I asked the mage “Tell me, who you are?”
“My name is Vahn Oberon.” He replied calmly and with a hint of cruelty in his voice.
I stumbled back! It was he! The man who murdered my father! “I am Heinrich Uberlich, you murdered my father, prepare to die!” I cried, and tossed the Witchfire Blade to Alexia. In one swift motion I drew forth both my pistols.
“Thank you” was all that Alexia said before waving her hand across the army of the dead. All at once the skeletons toppled over where they stood. Their threat was over. As for Alexia, she spoke a word of power and disappeared in flash of light. Unfortunately so did Vahn Oberon.
The eclipse had hidden from view heavy rain clouds, and with the rolling sound of thunder it began to rain heavily. I walked over to where Vahn Oberon stood and bent down to pick up a medallion, obviously torn off the mage by the undead that swarmed him. The medallion depicted an eye with a lightning bolt through it. Turning back to the others I could see Darius moving slightly as the clerics lifted him onto a stretcher, he was still alive. At that moment I felt suddenly weak at the knees and sat down against the walls of Lexaria’s crypt, letting the rain do its best to wash away the events of this Longest Night.
____________________________________
Well that was the end of Book I of the Witchfire Trilogy. Next I'll post a short story about Heinrich before jumping into the short adventure that takes place before Book II.
Thanks for reading!
Reebo
“The Longest Night”
It has been several days since I last wrote in my journal. I have been busy helping with the clean up operation after the events of the Longest Night. The bath I just had, helped to wash away my aches and pains as well as the stench of death that permeates the very city itself. Much has happened in the past week and half and I have learnt many things about Corvis, it people, its past and even a few things about myself. I have not seen the others since the Longest Night. The last I saw of Cromwell he was walking away from the church muttering about being ignored by others. Father Darius is still resting after his ordeal and Yama Khan is no doubt collecting research material for his necromantic art. Anyway I shall start at the beginning, the night we returned to Corvis, the Longest Night.
Having left Fort Rhyker behind us we approached Widower’s Wood. From the forest edge emerged a group of skeletons. Each held a chain and dragged along another undead creature, a rotting corpse of putrid flesh and swamp plants. A “Swamp Shambler” is what Darius called it. An undead creature of vengeance, created when a poor soul is left to perish in the swamp by his companions. It is said that the Swamp Shamblers seek to kill their former companions and turn them into undead like themselves. He told us that in our current wounded and exhausted condition even one of these Swamp Shamblers would be more than a match for the four of us. We wisely took Darius’ advice and proceeded to distance ourselves from as much as the Widower’s Wood as possible.
Eventually though we were forced to take the road through the woods. Except for sighting more skeletons with Swamp Shamblers we made it through without further incident.
We arrived at Corvis’ north gate at four hours to midnight, overhead a dark shadow was slowly creeping across the moon, the eclipse was happening; the Longest Night would soon be upon us. We could hear from the celebratory noises that the festival was in full swing. Two guards approached us and we explained who we were and asked for the whereabouts of Captain Helstrom. We were told that he would probably be found near the Docks overseeing the festival there. We paid the two guards to stow our wagon and its valuable cargo in one of the guard stables and proceeded to the Docks. First though we stopped by the arcane trinkets shop and purchased some snooze potions then retired to Cromwell’s room at The Gargoyle’s Pole Inn. Inside his room were several barrels of lard. I could not be bothered questioning him about these so I drank the potion and promptly fell asleep. I dreamt of an undead army overrunning the City of Corvis and putting its inhabitants to the sword, I even saw my head and those of my companions impaled on pikes outside the city walls and the figure of Alexia laughing down on us. Naturally I awoke drenched in sweat. Four hours had passed and Darius and Yama Khan were also stirring. Cromwell stood at the other side of the room playing darts. We quickly prepared our spell repertoire and left the inn for the Docks.
Once we reached the Falling Star tavern we spoke with Captain Helstrom. Our findings did not please him in the least; he also seemed unimpressed by the length of time it took us to reach him. We argued that had we tried to cut through the Widower’s Wood and the fields of the dead we would not be having this conversation now. The five of us left the Falling Star tavern and headed for the North Gate as fast as we possibly could through the crowds. I must mention that Cromwell did return the two masterwork daggers Helstrom loaned him. I would have assumed he would have hoped that Helstrom had forgotten about the daggers. Obviously I have judged Cromwell too harshly in the past, maybe some of my high moral standards and respect for laws have rubbed off on him.
At the North Gate, Helstrom commanded one of the watchtower guards to fire a flare round over the fields. The loud boom of the cannon almost drowned out the noise from a festival for a brief moment. Out across the fields the flare illuminated just that, fields. No undead army, no Swamp Shamblers, nothing. Then it hit us, the catacombs! That’s were Alexia’s undead army would be coming from, not over the city walls but under them! The undead army did not need to breathe; they could even march along the riverbed unhindered and unseen! Alexia would be heading for one place, the crypt of her mother. Captain Helstrom understood what we had to do; he handed us two flasks of fire retardant liquid to put out any spot fires on the way and wished us luck. We saluted Captain Helstrom and raced off toward the Church of Morrow, praying we would not be too late.
At one of the many crossroads we heard terrified screams coming from a side street. Knowing that we could not let innocents be endangered we rushed to the sound of the screams. From a sewer grate undead skeletons and a Swamp Shambler were emerging, attacking the revelers in the street. We sprang to action to beat back the undead invaders. My combat training proved quite useful as I downed skeleton after skeleton. At one stage during the fight we thought Father Darius lost when he was dragged down into the sewer but Cromwell rushed to his aid and pulled him out. Not having much choice in the matter, we piled the bodies of the unfortunate citizens onto the sewer grate to prevent more skeletons emerging. Once again we raced off.
We fought several running battles with the skeletal invaders as we made our way to the Church of Morrow far too many for me to recount or even want to remember. We did however encounter a Bridge Troll that had wandered into the city. It actually was making short work of a group of skeletons and knowing full well that fighting the troll would surely get one of us, if not all of us killed, we gave it a wide berth and continued on our way. I regretted having to leave the Bridge Troll there but I have vowed to myself that I would tie up that loose end soon.
Finally we reached the main bridge that led to the Church. The sight that greeted us was not a comforting one. It looked like Alexia’s entire skeletal army was converging on the church. We beat passed several skeletons and rushed to a small group of militant clerics, including Father Dumas in full battle regalia. We were healed of our injuries and told to help hold the bridge we had just crossed. We could see two rafts laden with skeletons moving toward the bridge, grapple lines ready to climb up. We acted quickly to set a trap of oil before us and I rushed forward to slow the skeletons down a little by burning their grapple lines. The skeletons retreated to the edge of the bridge and climbed up the stairs that lead down to the water. I rejoined my companions and we waited.
When the skeletons crossed the pool of oil, Cromwell fired a flaming arrow into it. It was quite a sight to see the skeletons marching through the flames oblivious to the fact that they were catching fire and being consumed by the flames. We fought on and managed to defeat this contingent of walking bones. One of the skeletons possessed a small pistol which a claimed for myself after the battle. I have cleaned the pistol up and now it and its partner, the pistol Cromwell gave me, hang by my side. When the city is back to normal, I intend to have a small plaque mounted on each pistol, inscribed on them will be the names I have christened them with, “Law” and “Order”.
We retreated to the line of clerics and sought some more healing. This time we returned to the bridge with some help, four members of guard watch, one of them a trollkin named Morrgg. The next wave of skeletons had obtained themselves a light cannon. We rushed to the other end of the bridge hoping to stop them from firing. I downed a potion of Spider Climb and leapt of the side of the bridge, grabbing on to the wall itself and crawling along the side of the bridge. Alas we were too late and the cannon fired narrowly missing Father Darius but knocking him of his feet nevertheless. With the aid of the guards and the trollkin Morrgg we quickly dispatched these skeletons and pushed the cannon off the bridge and into the river. Then we saw it a huge mass of skeletons lining the banks of the river around the church. As one they dropped into the river and eventually emerged on our side. We had no choice; we turned and ran back to the church. Father Dumas and the remaining few cleric and guards had gathered around the crypt of Lexaria Ciannor. The skeletal army surrounded us, forming a ring around the crypt. They stood there watching, unmoving, waiting. The it suddenly became very dark, above us the eclipse was complete, and with it came Alexia and the four undead witches, flying through the air with the aid of magic. The formed a smaller circle around the crypt of Alexia’s mother and began to chant. Cromwell moved forward and tried to get Alexia’s attention. She ignored him, lost in her incantation. In frustration he hurled a dagger straight and true at her exposed throat. It thudded against and invisible barrier and clattered onto the stone path around the crypt. With tremendous force the crypt doors exploded outwards, the debris pulverized by the force of the magic these five witches commanded. As one, the four undead witches entered the crypt and retrieved the shrouded body of Lexaria Ciannor, the former leader of their coven and Alexia’s mother. Alexia herself reached into the crypt and drew forth a black bladed greatsword of malevolent design. She thrust the sword upward with a cry of triumph. Suddenly a robed figure appeared behind her in a flash of lightning and thrust a curved glowing dagger into her back. What happened next was as if the sands of time had begun to trickle ever so slowly, Alexia stumbled forward in pain and the greatsword flew from her hands passing effortlessly through the magical barrier and clattered to the ground before the feet of one of us. Father Darius picked up the sword. At the same time a wave of skeletons surrounded Alexia’s mysterious attacker and dragged him away from their mistress. Father Darius turned to Father Dumas, a look of uncertainty in his eyes. But any helpful suggestions would not be forthcoming, for Father Dumas was in shock from the realization of what his niece had done.
The skeletons surrounding Alexia’s attacker were blasted apart by a wave of energy from the man and he strode forth toward Father Darius. “Look what she has done to this city!” said the mysterious mage. “Give me the Witchfire Blade and I shall undo all the evil she has wrought!”
“No!” cried Alexia “Do not trust him, he is not the benefactor you think him to be. Give me the sword and I shall put my army to rest and leave the city.”
Darius looked at me and I simply said “Do not use the sword, it is a thing of evil.” Alas he ignored my warning, raised the blade above his head and cried out “Alexia, your time has come!” Then he simply slumped to the ground. I rushed to his side, I feared him dead for his skin was of such pallor as too indicate death. I hefted the Witchfire Blade and turned to the mysterious mage “Who are you?” I asked.
“It matters not.” he replied. “Give me the blade, before it’s too late!”
“Do not do it! Give me the blade and I will leave the city in peace!” cried out Alexia.
Once again I asked the mage “Tell me, who you are?”
“My name is Vahn Oberon.” He replied calmly and with a hint of cruelty in his voice.
I stumbled back! It was he! The man who murdered my father! “I am Heinrich Uberlich, you murdered my father, prepare to die!” I cried, and tossed the Witchfire Blade to Alexia. In one swift motion I drew forth both my pistols.
“Thank you” was all that Alexia said before waving her hand across the army of the dead. All at once the skeletons toppled over where they stood. Their threat was over. As for Alexia, she spoke a word of power and disappeared in flash of light. Unfortunately so did Vahn Oberon.
The eclipse had hidden from view heavy rain clouds, and with the rolling sound of thunder it began to rain heavily. I walked over to where Vahn Oberon stood and bent down to pick up a medallion, obviously torn off the mage by the undead that swarmed him. The medallion depicted an eye with a lightning bolt through it. Turning back to the others I could see Darius moving slightly as the clerics lifted him onto a stretcher, he was still alive. At that moment I felt suddenly weak at the knees and sat down against the walls of Lexaria’s crypt, letting the rain do its best to wash away the events of this Longest Night.
____________________________________
Well that was the end of Book I of the Witchfire Trilogy. Next I'll post a short story about Heinrich before jumping into the short adventure that takes place before Book II.
Thanks for reading!
Reebo
ReeboKesh
First Post
Hey guys just a short story about Heinrich that took place between Book I and II
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“LOOSE ENDS”
– A Heinrich Uberlich Story
Tuesday, March 18th, 603 AR
It was a rainy evening in Corvis. A dark figure stepped out from an alleyway, letting the rain fall over him. He looked up into the rain soaked night sky, heavily rain droplets bouncing of his protective goggles, and pulled his coat tightly around him with his left hand, under his right arm he carried a bundle of sheep’s wool, which was gradually getting drenched. Heinrich Uberlich had some loose ends to tie up this evening and rain or no rain he was going to complete them. He stepped out into the street and began walking in the direction of the Church of Morrow.
The people of Corvis had never really been fond of the rain. Corvis was a half-sunken city with canals running through it, they had their fair share of water, but still this heavy rain fall was a blessing. The conclusion of the Longest Night had left hundreds of formerly undead corpses littering the city. The cleanup crews had done their best but the city stilled reeked of the smell of death. The rain was gradually washing that smell away. Heinrich didn’t mind the rain, Caspia, his home city, was plagued by rainfall because of its proximity to the coastline of the Gulf of Cygnar. Funny how a simple rainfall would make him think about his home city and once again about his dead father, Reinhard Uberlich.
Reinhard was once a great wizard in the service of Caspia. Like Heinrich, he was specialized at protective magiks. It had been said that no magikal spell, divine or arcane, could penetrate Reinhard’s defenses. Alas this protection would fail him when he least expected it. Reinhard was part of a small group of law enforcement mages, The Seven they called themselves; Reinhard was their leader and the mysterious mage Vahn Oberon, was a member and Reinhard’s closest friend, or so he thought. As the land of Cygnar began to suffer from political upheavals and the tyranny of Vinter Raelthorne IV, Reinhard noticed a change in his friend Vahn Oberon. The mysterious mage was becoming more and more ruthless in his handling of criminals. To Vahn Oberon, the end justified the means, even going as far to torture suspects into confessing their crimes. Reinhard confronted Vahn on this matter and a heated argument began. It ended with Vahn Oberon plunging a poisoned anti-magik dagger into Reinhard’s stomach. All his magical protections shattered beneath the anti-magik aura of the dagger, the poison did the rest of the work. Reinhard Uberlich was dead, and The Seven and his ideals for a better Cygnar died with him. As for Vahn Oberon, he had disappeared, though rumors spoke of his allegiance with the cruel King Vinter Raelthorne IV and that he even had a hand in helping Vinter Raelthorne IV “the Elder”, escape prison when his younger brother, the current King Leto “the Younger”, dethroned him.
Heinrich had been told by one of the Seven that Vahn Oberon had killed his father and when the mysterious mage revealed his identity at the conclusion of the Longest Night, Heinrich had a face to go with the name of the man who murdered his father in cold blood. The sound of rain falling into water brought Heinrich from his deep thoughts. He had reached his destination, a bridge that crossed one of the canals near the Church of Morrow. A bridge that he and his companions had avoided the last time they were here.
Heinrich dropped his water soaked bundle of wool onto the pavement at the end of the bridge. Then he unbuttoned his coat revealing his brace of twin pistols, his “Law” and “Order”. Heinrich spoke a brief incantation and waved his right hand before him. A purple circular glow appeared before him then faded, a low hum began to sound in his ear. Heinrich had altered the formula for his Shield spell, so that a low hum accompanied the invisible barrier of protection. When the low hum started to fade Heinrich would know that the Shield spells’ duration was coming to an end. Heinrich checked his pistols to be certain they were loaded as well as his inside coat pocket for the metal flask containing a magical potion that he had purchased from Garworth’s; then he began to walk across the bridge.
The rain bucketed down, Heinrich could barley see 20 ft in front of him, as he slowly walked across the bridge watching for movement to either side. He reached the centre of the bridge and the hairs on the back of his neck, wet as they were, stood on end.
Heinrich spun around drawing his twin pistols. The Bridge Troll was a mere 60ft away, its pale skin and enormous size made it easy to see the creature in the hard driving rain. This was one of the loose ends Heinrich had come to tie up, and it wasn’t going to be an easy one.
The Bridge Troll growled at Heinrich. Heinrich growled back firing “Law” and “Order” in quick succession. The first bullet went wide but the second hit home! A burst of blood sprayed up from the Bridge Troll’s arm, a small burst of blood actually.
“Great!” Thought Heinrich, at least that meant that the Bridge Troll had not absorbed the toughness of the stone bridge on which they battled. Using an innate magikal ability which was a mystery to mages and scholars, Bridge Trolls are able through touch to absorb the properties of wood or stone and gain those materials’ strengths but not their weaknesses. Many a warrior have told stories of striking a Bridge Troll who had absorbed the resilience of stone, only to have their masterwork greatsword shatter across the creature’s hide.
The Bridge Troll covered the distance between the two of them in a heart beat and began to swing its mighty fists at Heinrich. Holstering “Law”, Heinrich began to reload “Order” as he ducked and dodged the Bridge Troll's long reaching arms. Completing the task he swapped the pistols and began to reload “Law”. Suddenly the Bridge Troll's two massive fists came crashing down toward Heinrich’s head! A purple glow suddenly blazed into life above Heinrich. The Bridge Troll’s fists stopped short a foot above Heinrich, landing on the magikal Shield barrier. A strange thing then occurred. The purple glow began to move from above Heinrich up the Bridge Troll's hands, over its’ arms and in a matter of seconds, the Bridge Troll's was glowing purple! The low hum of Heinrich’s Shield spell began to wind down, and then it stopped altogether.
“This is going to get ugly.” Muttered Heinrich as he locked his pistol’s chamber into place.
The Bridge Troll's roared at Heinrich, distending its jaw so that it was now as wide as the warrior-mage’s torso. Heinrich fired his pistol “Law” at point-blank. The bullet bounced off the Shield spell-protected Bridge Troll!
“Oh sh….!” Heinrich’s curse was cut off as the Bridge Troll swung one of it’s immense arms, catching Heinrich in the chest and sending him sailing 20ft in the air to come crashing down on the stone bridge’s hard surface. A resounding “crack!” indicated one or two ribs were broken for certain.
Heinrich eased himself up to a siting position, wincing with the pain that such a simple movement had caused. He looked toward the Bridge Troll, it seemed to be basking in its’ apparent win, but Heinrich wasn’t finished yet. He reached into the coat pocket and drew forth the magik potion. The Bridge Troll began to lumber toward its’ injured meal. Popping off the stopper and taking one swig, Heinrich downed the contents of the metal flask. A tingling sensation built up in his throat and then Heinrich pointed between the Bridge Troll’s wide legs toward the bundle of wool at the other end of the bridge, thankfully the rain had eased thought Heinrich, because he could actually see the water soaked bundle. He muttered an odd sound and then repeated it again and again.
Over the din of the rainfall, even as it had eased up, a normal person could not hear much but a Bridge Troll’s hearing was far greater than a normal person’s; all the better for hearing humans sneaking across its’ bridge. The Bridge Troll’s ears twitched once at the sound, then they turned around to focus on the familiar noise that was cutting through the rain. The Bridge Troll turned around, it had recognized the sound, the familiar bleating sound of its favorite meal, sheep!
Heinrich had done some research on Bridge Troll’s before setting of on this risky crusade. It seemed that Bridge Trolls had become quite fond of sheep flesh because out in the farmlands where they lived beneath small bridges, they ate sheep to the exclusion of almost any other animal. The reason behind this was simple actually; shepherds who tended flocks of sheep would always be willing to sacrifice one sheep in order to test the safety of a bridge they wanted to cross. This particular Bridge Troll had not tasted sheep since it found its’ “bridge lair” in Corvis, the temptation proved enough for it to ignore Heinrich for the tasty meat the sheep would provide.
The Bridge Troll reached the “bleating” woolen bundle and snatched it up in one meaty claw, raising it to its’ enormous mouth.
“Get off my bridge!” yelled Heinrich as he rose slowly to his feet, dripping sweat mixed with rain and pointed his pistol “Order” at the Bridge Troll, or more precisely the woolen bundle. He pulled the trigger.
CLICK!
He tried again.
CLICK!
The gun was waterlogged. Heinrich had to think fast for the Bridge Troll had almost swallowed the woolen bundle whole, all that remained was its’ white rope-like tail. Heinrich brought the words of his Mage Hand spell to his lips and made a tugging motion in the air with his right hand. Across the other side of the bridge the “sheep’s tail” lifted up and made a similar tugging motion as if pulled by an invisible hand.
Nothing happened.
Then Heinrich remembered that the trigger mechanism of the explosive barrel took several seconds to mix the two explosive chemicals that the barrel contained. The Bridge Troll slurped in the rope-like tail like a noodle, then turned its’ attention to Heinrich, giving him an impossibly wide grin.
Now Heinrich Uberlich was worried. He looked to either side and made up his mind very quickly as the Bridge Troll began to lumber toward him. He moved as fast as he could and in much agony toward the bridge railing. He reached the edge and lifted one leg over the railing. The Bride Troll was almost upon him.
“What the heck, I am already wet” thought Heinrich, then he leapt of the bridge into the waters of the Black River. Heinrich hit the water just as the Bridge Troll reached the edge, its huge foot stepping onto the stone railing and crushing it. Then the Bridge Troll leapt after Heinrich.
It never reached the water.
The resulting explosion was heard across the city, as far as the Cathedral of the Fallen Saint. Many dismissed it as lightning but those nearby saw the flaming pieces of the Bridge Troll scatter across a wide area, almost reaching both sides of the canal.
Heinrich burst from the Black River and swam slowly but surely to the nearest pier. The explosive keg had been the other loose end Heinrich wanted to tie up. He did not trust it in the hands of others and thought his use of it this evening was far better than just handing it back to Captain Helstrom. Wincing with pain he managed to pull himself up onto the pier and then climbed the pier ladder to the street level. Not wanting to wait around to be interviewed, more so because he was tired and in great pain, than having anything to fear from the Corvis guards who counted the warrior-mage as their friend. Heinrich stumbled off towards the Gargoyle’s Pole Inn, his thoughts where on his companions who were most likely enjoying their eighth round of ale at the Falling Star Tavern, not out risking life and limb to tie up a few loose ends.
THE END
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“LOOSE ENDS”
– A Heinrich Uberlich Story
Tuesday, March 18th, 603 AR
It was a rainy evening in Corvis. A dark figure stepped out from an alleyway, letting the rain fall over him. He looked up into the rain soaked night sky, heavily rain droplets bouncing of his protective goggles, and pulled his coat tightly around him with his left hand, under his right arm he carried a bundle of sheep’s wool, which was gradually getting drenched. Heinrich Uberlich had some loose ends to tie up this evening and rain or no rain he was going to complete them. He stepped out into the street and began walking in the direction of the Church of Morrow.
The people of Corvis had never really been fond of the rain. Corvis was a half-sunken city with canals running through it, they had their fair share of water, but still this heavy rain fall was a blessing. The conclusion of the Longest Night had left hundreds of formerly undead corpses littering the city. The cleanup crews had done their best but the city stilled reeked of the smell of death. The rain was gradually washing that smell away. Heinrich didn’t mind the rain, Caspia, his home city, was plagued by rainfall because of its proximity to the coastline of the Gulf of Cygnar. Funny how a simple rainfall would make him think about his home city and once again about his dead father, Reinhard Uberlich.
Reinhard was once a great wizard in the service of Caspia. Like Heinrich, he was specialized at protective magiks. It had been said that no magikal spell, divine or arcane, could penetrate Reinhard’s defenses. Alas this protection would fail him when he least expected it. Reinhard was part of a small group of law enforcement mages, The Seven they called themselves; Reinhard was their leader and the mysterious mage Vahn Oberon, was a member and Reinhard’s closest friend, or so he thought. As the land of Cygnar began to suffer from political upheavals and the tyranny of Vinter Raelthorne IV, Reinhard noticed a change in his friend Vahn Oberon. The mysterious mage was becoming more and more ruthless in his handling of criminals. To Vahn Oberon, the end justified the means, even going as far to torture suspects into confessing their crimes. Reinhard confronted Vahn on this matter and a heated argument began. It ended with Vahn Oberon plunging a poisoned anti-magik dagger into Reinhard’s stomach. All his magical protections shattered beneath the anti-magik aura of the dagger, the poison did the rest of the work. Reinhard Uberlich was dead, and The Seven and his ideals for a better Cygnar died with him. As for Vahn Oberon, he had disappeared, though rumors spoke of his allegiance with the cruel King Vinter Raelthorne IV and that he even had a hand in helping Vinter Raelthorne IV “the Elder”, escape prison when his younger brother, the current King Leto “the Younger”, dethroned him.
Heinrich had been told by one of the Seven that Vahn Oberon had killed his father and when the mysterious mage revealed his identity at the conclusion of the Longest Night, Heinrich had a face to go with the name of the man who murdered his father in cold blood. The sound of rain falling into water brought Heinrich from his deep thoughts. He had reached his destination, a bridge that crossed one of the canals near the Church of Morrow. A bridge that he and his companions had avoided the last time they were here.
Heinrich dropped his water soaked bundle of wool onto the pavement at the end of the bridge. Then he unbuttoned his coat revealing his brace of twin pistols, his “Law” and “Order”. Heinrich spoke a brief incantation and waved his right hand before him. A purple circular glow appeared before him then faded, a low hum began to sound in his ear. Heinrich had altered the formula for his Shield spell, so that a low hum accompanied the invisible barrier of protection. When the low hum started to fade Heinrich would know that the Shield spells’ duration was coming to an end. Heinrich checked his pistols to be certain they were loaded as well as his inside coat pocket for the metal flask containing a magical potion that he had purchased from Garworth’s; then he began to walk across the bridge.
The rain bucketed down, Heinrich could barley see 20 ft in front of him, as he slowly walked across the bridge watching for movement to either side. He reached the centre of the bridge and the hairs on the back of his neck, wet as they were, stood on end.
Heinrich spun around drawing his twin pistols. The Bridge Troll was a mere 60ft away, its pale skin and enormous size made it easy to see the creature in the hard driving rain. This was one of the loose ends Heinrich had come to tie up, and it wasn’t going to be an easy one.
The Bridge Troll growled at Heinrich. Heinrich growled back firing “Law” and “Order” in quick succession. The first bullet went wide but the second hit home! A burst of blood sprayed up from the Bridge Troll’s arm, a small burst of blood actually.
“Great!” Thought Heinrich, at least that meant that the Bridge Troll had not absorbed the toughness of the stone bridge on which they battled. Using an innate magikal ability which was a mystery to mages and scholars, Bridge Trolls are able through touch to absorb the properties of wood or stone and gain those materials’ strengths but not their weaknesses. Many a warrior have told stories of striking a Bridge Troll who had absorbed the resilience of stone, only to have their masterwork greatsword shatter across the creature’s hide.
The Bridge Troll covered the distance between the two of them in a heart beat and began to swing its mighty fists at Heinrich. Holstering “Law”, Heinrich began to reload “Order” as he ducked and dodged the Bridge Troll's long reaching arms. Completing the task he swapped the pistols and began to reload “Law”. Suddenly the Bridge Troll's two massive fists came crashing down toward Heinrich’s head! A purple glow suddenly blazed into life above Heinrich. The Bridge Troll’s fists stopped short a foot above Heinrich, landing on the magikal Shield barrier. A strange thing then occurred. The purple glow began to move from above Heinrich up the Bridge Troll's hands, over its’ arms and in a matter of seconds, the Bridge Troll's was glowing purple! The low hum of Heinrich’s Shield spell began to wind down, and then it stopped altogether.
“This is going to get ugly.” Muttered Heinrich as he locked his pistol’s chamber into place.
The Bridge Troll's roared at Heinrich, distending its jaw so that it was now as wide as the warrior-mage’s torso. Heinrich fired his pistol “Law” at point-blank. The bullet bounced off the Shield spell-protected Bridge Troll!
“Oh sh….!” Heinrich’s curse was cut off as the Bridge Troll swung one of it’s immense arms, catching Heinrich in the chest and sending him sailing 20ft in the air to come crashing down on the stone bridge’s hard surface. A resounding “crack!” indicated one or two ribs were broken for certain.
Heinrich eased himself up to a siting position, wincing with the pain that such a simple movement had caused. He looked toward the Bridge Troll, it seemed to be basking in its’ apparent win, but Heinrich wasn’t finished yet. He reached into the coat pocket and drew forth the magik potion. The Bridge Troll began to lumber toward its’ injured meal. Popping off the stopper and taking one swig, Heinrich downed the contents of the metal flask. A tingling sensation built up in his throat and then Heinrich pointed between the Bridge Troll’s wide legs toward the bundle of wool at the other end of the bridge, thankfully the rain had eased thought Heinrich, because he could actually see the water soaked bundle. He muttered an odd sound and then repeated it again and again.
Over the din of the rainfall, even as it had eased up, a normal person could not hear much but a Bridge Troll’s hearing was far greater than a normal person’s; all the better for hearing humans sneaking across its’ bridge. The Bridge Troll’s ears twitched once at the sound, then they turned around to focus on the familiar noise that was cutting through the rain. The Bridge Troll turned around, it had recognized the sound, the familiar bleating sound of its favorite meal, sheep!
Heinrich had done some research on Bridge Troll’s before setting of on this risky crusade. It seemed that Bridge Trolls had become quite fond of sheep flesh because out in the farmlands where they lived beneath small bridges, they ate sheep to the exclusion of almost any other animal. The reason behind this was simple actually; shepherds who tended flocks of sheep would always be willing to sacrifice one sheep in order to test the safety of a bridge they wanted to cross. This particular Bridge Troll had not tasted sheep since it found its’ “bridge lair” in Corvis, the temptation proved enough for it to ignore Heinrich for the tasty meat the sheep would provide.
The Bridge Troll reached the “bleating” woolen bundle and snatched it up in one meaty claw, raising it to its’ enormous mouth.
“Get off my bridge!” yelled Heinrich as he rose slowly to his feet, dripping sweat mixed with rain and pointed his pistol “Order” at the Bridge Troll, or more precisely the woolen bundle. He pulled the trigger.
CLICK!
He tried again.
CLICK!
The gun was waterlogged. Heinrich had to think fast for the Bridge Troll had almost swallowed the woolen bundle whole, all that remained was its’ white rope-like tail. Heinrich brought the words of his Mage Hand spell to his lips and made a tugging motion in the air with his right hand. Across the other side of the bridge the “sheep’s tail” lifted up and made a similar tugging motion as if pulled by an invisible hand.
Nothing happened.
Then Heinrich remembered that the trigger mechanism of the explosive barrel took several seconds to mix the two explosive chemicals that the barrel contained. The Bridge Troll slurped in the rope-like tail like a noodle, then turned its’ attention to Heinrich, giving him an impossibly wide grin.
Now Heinrich Uberlich was worried. He looked to either side and made up his mind very quickly as the Bridge Troll began to lumber toward him. He moved as fast as he could and in much agony toward the bridge railing. He reached the edge and lifted one leg over the railing. The Bride Troll was almost upon him.
“What the heck, I am already wet” thought Heinrich, then he leapt of the bridge into the waters of the Black River. Heinrich hit the water just as the Bridge Troll reached the edge, its huge foot stepping onto the stone railing and crushing it. Then the Bridge Troll leapt after Heinrich.
It never reached the water.
The resulting explosion was heard across the city, as far as the Cathedral of the Fallen Saint. Many dismissed it as lightning but those nearby saw the flaming pieces of the Bridge Troll scatter across a wide area, almost reaching both sides of the canal.
Heinrich burst from the Black River and swam slowly but surely to the nearest pier. The explosive keg had been the other loose end Heinrich wanted to tie up. He did not trust it in the hands of others and thought his use of it this evening was far better than just handing it back to Captain Helstrom. Wincing with pain he managed to pull himself up onto the pier and then climbed the pier ladder to the street level. Not wanting to wait around to be interviewed, more so because he was tired and in great pain, than having anything to fear from the Corvis guards who counted the warrior-mage as their friend. Heinrich stumbled off towards the Gargoyle’s Pole Inn, his thoughts where on his companions who were most likely enjoying their eighth round of ale at the Falling Star Tavern, not out risking life and limb to tie up a few loose ends.
THE END
Kale Silvermoon
First Post
great story love the character development and the names of the pistols. please keep writing.
ReeboKesh
First Post
Due to popular demand! Ok two people 
. I'll post the next part of my Witchfire Trilogy Journals The following is the short adventure "Fool's Errand" that takes place before Part II. Enjoy!
__________________________________________________
Friday, March 21st, 603 AR
“A Death in the family”
A tragedy has occurred. Our friend Cromwell is dead, killed at the hands of a gang of thugs who sought to possess a powerful weapon, a Steamjack!
Cromwell and I clashed on several occasions but it seemed recently that he had begun to change his tune. He was gradually loosing his larcenous views and beginning to take an interest in this city and its people. Even Father Darius told me that he believed that Cromwell was on his way to becoming a better man, and that is saying a lot considering the Priest and the Elf did not see eye to eye very often, if ever. His wry smile, camaraderie and battle prowess will be sorely missed. Rest in peace Cromwell, may you find what you were seeking in life, at last in death.
It all began yesterday morning when we met at the Church of Morrow. It had been over a week since I had last seen my companions and I was eager to hear what they had been up to. They told me that they had been investigating a series of bizarre murders. The victims had been all drained of blood and a Vampyre was suspected. I laughed at this knowing full well that Vampyres are but creatures from children’s stories. Anyway they explained that the murderer was a half-bat, half-human hybrid and unfortunately it had gotten away. All attempts to find the creature, or a beggar that Cromwell believed was the creature, have proven to be futile. I did have some good news to offer as I passed the proceeds of the sale of the gold disk to my companions; I had a buyer lined up for the field glass.
At this stage Father Dumas approached us and asked if we would carry out a simple shopping excursion for him. Father Darius agreed for the lot of us and we decided to tag along, as some of us were eager to do some shopping anyway. I finally purchased a great coat, dark green in colour. During our shopping trip Yama Khan and Father Darius claimed to have noticed a dark figure watching them but they soon lost him in the crowd. Father Darius remembered seeing the man at the Church of Morrow where repairs were being carried out after the Longest Night. He distinctly remembers that the man was just loitering and not actually helping with the repairs. Having finished gathering the supplies for Father Dumas we returned to the Church of Morrow.
Father Dumas thanked us and handed as a wax sealed letter addressed to “The Heroes of the Longest Night”. The letter read “Meet me at the Falling Star tavern, this evening.” It has only recently occurred to me that I should have taken the chance to compare the writing in the letter with the penmanship of Alexia Ciannor. We could have been walking into a trap! I wonder how long before she will show her face in Corvis again.
Anyway we waited around until evening and went to meet with our mysterious messenger. At the Falling Star tavern we secured a table and sat down to wait. After a couple of minutes a dark dressed man of debatable character approached our table and without asking pulled up a chair. He told us he had sent the letter and Father Darius and Yama Khan indeed did recognize him from the market place. He went on to say that his employer would be willing to offers a substantial reward for retrieving something that had been stolen from his employer. He refused to tell us what the reward would be or who his employers was. He even told us that we would know the item we were to retrieve when we saw it. He referred to it only as “Thunderwicket”. At this point it took all three of us to convince Father Darius to come along on this “mission.” Now I wish we had listened to Father Darius and turned down the man’s offer if only to have Cromwell still with us. We accepted the task and were given address of an apparently “abandoned” warehouse in Filcher’s Crossing, one of the seedier parts of Corvis or so I have been told. We bid the man farewell and stepped out into the night air. Yama Khan brought up the interesting point that we had not asked our middleman his name? Not wanting to look foolish by going back inside to ask, we headed off.
In Filcher’s Crossing we came across a dead man, he had been garroted and in his clenched fist was a coin with the symbol of the Gertren Family stamped upon it. Cromwell produced a similar coin from his pockets and Father Darius gave him a withering look. Cromwell pocketed the two coins and we continued on. Soon after we heard the sounds of another possible “slaying” and hurried on our way. This place sickened me and I forced myself to fight the urge to investigate these killings, and bring the culprits to justice. It would serve no one if we were killed because we did not ‘look the other way’ but I swear on my father’s grave that I will clean up the crime in this city someday.
We reached the abandoned warehouse and proceeded to climb over the high stone wall. My efforts proved a little too noisy for Cromwell but we did manage to cross the surrounding scrap metal filled lot without making too much noise. Reaching the two-story warehouse we found a single door open but with crates pushed up against it. Not wanting to risk knocking the crates over and creating a racket, Cromwell offered to try for the roof. He returned moments later to tell us that the roof was one huge slab of iron with three large smoke stacks, in other words we had to enter via the door. Being careful as possible we pushed open the door and proceeded inside.
The warehouse was dark save for some light streaming through a side office doorway. There were many crates around and a large furnace stood in the center with two ramps running off it. Above us, a walkway circumvented the warehouse and many chains hung from the ceiling holding mekanika parts and large iron smoke stacks. We moved to investigate the office first. Inside we found the office lit by a lantern and discovered a well made greatcoat lined with pockets, four exceptionally well made daggers and several vials of liquid, all of this we confiscated. We also found a metal coffer filled with gold crowns and a good-sized amethyst. We pocketed the amethyst and promised to come back later for the money, once we had found “Thunderwicket”. On the wall there was a map of Filcher’s Crossing with some strange markings. I found it odd that Cromwell didn’t recognize as they were obviously written in thieves’ code but this served to confirm my suspicion that he wasn’t as larcenous as I was led to believe.
The lit office had another room next door but inside we found only a table with half-eaten meals and nine empty mugs. We stepped out of this office and then the cow droppings hit the mekanika-powered wind-blowing device!
I loud rumbling sound suddenly started up and movement all around told us we were not alone. Before we knew it we were surrounded by thugs both at ground level and up on the walkways. A roguish figure leapt up onto a crate and yelled “Thunderwicket kill those Gertren boys! Kill them all!” At that point “Thunderwicket” made its appearance as a huge Steamjack lumbered out from behind a tall stack of crates. Across the Steamjack’s chest was riveted a metal plate bearing the name “Thunderwicket.” The roguish fellow cried, “No one messes with Mad Malik!”
Cromwell rushed to take down Mad Malik and I fired on the nearest thug but missed. I could not see what my other two companions were doing, but from the sound of chanting and an incantation the answer was obvious. A glowing greatsword appeared above Mad Malik’s head and narrowly missed him. Crossbow bolts began to rain down on us and I rushed for cover behind a large crate casting a Shield spell as soon as I was behind it.
Above the hum of my spell I suddenly heard the seven words I didn’t want to hear come from Mad Malik “Thunderwicket. Kill the mage behind that crate!” I looked over the crate to see the Steamjack turn in my direction and begin to lumber towards me. This was the Bridge Troll incident all over again save this time I had no explosive powder keg. I got to my feet and ran, passing two thugs bent on ending my career. Spinning around a spoke the incantation of the Burning Hands spell, given to me by Yama Khan. The two thugs easily ducked beneath the flames. Thunderwicket crushed the crate I was hiding behind and kept on coming.
I found myself surrounded by three thugs and as I attempted to dodge their pathetic blows, the Steamjack got closer and swung at me with its huge arms. The blow struck me across the back throwing me clear of the thugs and into a stack of crates. So much for my healed ribs. At the time I thought if I lived through this night I would lie in bed for a week.
I scrambled to my feet and saw Father Darius fighting a thug behind some crates in an alcove. I rushed towards the cleric of Morrow; the three thugs and Thunderwicket hot on my heels. Father Darius glanced at me and then at the Steamjack heading in our direction. Had I been able to read lips I could have sworn that he spoke a curse so foul that would make Cromwell, rest his soul, proud! My Shield spell easily deflected several more blows from the thugs and I ducked beneath another mighty swing from Thunderwicket. At that moment I noticed the Steamjack’s furnace hatch glowing orange with its internal fires. I looked up and saw the Steamjack’s smoke stacks. I had to take a chance at this nigh impossible task I was about to attempt for I could not last another second against this mekanikal monstrosity. From my belt pouch I drew forth the canister of flame extinguishing liquid the Captain Helstrom had given me during the Longest Night. I kissed it once for good luck and then lobbed it up toward one of the Steamjack’s smokestacks. The canister sailed up into the air spinning end over end, even the three thugs watched it go up and then as it reached the smoke stack it dropped in! What happened next was a scene I will never forget. There was a wooshing sound from the Steamjack’s belly and then a loud hiss as the magical liquid snuffed out its internal fires. The Steamjack took one final swing as its mekanika gears began to wind down. Its arm caught onto a chain and ripped it from the ceiling. The chain had been holding up a large furnace funnel, which suddenly swung down and crashed through one of the walls and part of the floor. As everyone stood in shock a loud cracking noise saw almost three-quarters of the floor of the warehouse drop away into darkness! I saw Father Darius fall away from me but he was not close enough as I invoked a Featherfall spell and slowly descended into the darkness below.
The sound of crumbling stone and twisted metal slowly eased up as my feet touched uneven ground. I rushed to Father Darius and helped him to his feet; he wasn’t as badly hurt as I so I asked him to heal me. As he did so I rolled out my scroll of Invisibility and cast the spell. I could hear the sound of rushing water nearby and up above the calls of Mad Malik and his thugs. Suddenly a bizarre creature leapt out of the darkness wrapping two long green tentacles around Father Darius’ head. This was becoming to much, I could see Yama Khan across from me look at the thing that grappled Father Darius in shock, I know he was thinking to cut our loses and run. Forgive me father for the same thought crossed my mind if for but a brief moment, then I drew forth my heavy military pick and rushed to Father Darius’ aid. My invisibility spell ended just as Yama Khan joined the fray, swinging wildly with his quarterstaff. Then the strange beast leapt off Father Darius and onto the Steamjack that had rekindled its internal fires somehow and was beginning to rise to its feet. The bizarre creature tore into the damaged Steamjack, ripping metal plates from its body as if trying to get at something inside.
Father Darius stumbled towards us and said “That thing, it ripped two of my spells from my mind!” At that moment I told my companions that now was the time to leave. Father Darius asked about Cromwell. I had forgotten about him during the battle, and at that moment I had a bad feeling in my stomach that Cromwell was dead.
Father Darius confirmed my suspicion when he rushed back carrying the body of Cromwell over his shoulder. Yama Khan held up the metal plate that was riveted to Thunderwicket’s chest and said, “We are getting paid for going through this sh…”. He was cut off as we heard Mad Malik call for his boys to fetch some rope so that they could climb down and “hunt down these Gertren thieves!”
We followed a narrow passage with water rushing past us, Father Darius, burdened by the body of Cromwell, slipped and went sliding down the passageway. Yama Khan and I did our best to catch up. The water chute opened up into a long buried portion of the Undercity illuminated by a strange bluish moss. We dragged ourselves to the shore and began to look for a way out.
One building caught our attention as it leaned at an odd angle and part of it had rotted or dissolved away. We entered the building and discovered it to be an old alchemist’s lab. We found several metal plates inscribed with runes, a ring with a message about Cyriss, the Clockwork Goddess and a masterwork stiletto inscribed with the letter ‘P’. I have kept the stiletto and will try and check Corvis’ history books for an alchemist with the first initial ‘P’.
We also found a large stone vat sealed with wax. Breaking the wax revealed that it was filled with acid. Such a quantity would be worth a small fortune on the open market but we had no means of transporting it. We did find several vials of it though and realized that the vials we found in the office upstairs were also acid. Then we heard the voices of Mad Malik and his thugs. Using my military pick I levered up the stone vat and with Yama Khan’s help tipped it over toward the other end of the room. The hissing sound indicated that the acid was still potent and was eating away at the building’s foundation. We quickly exited and ran toward the ruins of another building. The crack of a pistol told us that Mad Malik was close.
We ducked behind cover and began to return fire. Mad Malik and his men took cover behind the alchemist’s building. Moments later it toppled over, unfortunately killing only one of Mad Malik’s thugs.
Not wanting to go through another prolonged battle in our condition I told the other two to run for the other flooded passage while I covered them. At last we dove into the water and let the current carry us into the Black River and out into Corvis Harbor. During my swim I dropped my heavy military pick because of it was weighing me down. I have decided not to replace the cumbersome weapon.
We decided to head back to the Church of Corvis as dawn was slowly peeking over the horizon. On the way a guard made some offhand comment about our stench and was promptly berated by Father Darius. The good Father is starting to finally grow on me, though he remains a little too uptight for my liking. I know he will voice his displeasure at going on this ‘mission’ especially with the loss of Cromwell. I will remind him that though we were working for an undesirable individual who was probably part of a large crime family, we did keep a powerful weapon out of two crime families hands by destroying it. No doubt that bizarre creature we encountered wanted to feed on the Steamjacks’ magical cortex-brain. I am certain that Thunderwicket is no more.
The next day we returned to the Falling Star Tavern, the barman, one Dando “The Bull” Kildair, poured us a round and led us upstairs to our meeting with Draegyn “the Bastard” as he called him. Draegyn seemed genuinely happy to see us, obviously word had reached him quickly about what had occurred in the warehouse. Yama Khan dropped the metal nameplate onto the table and Draegyn handed us our payment, a bag of gems as well as four credit notes for masterworking weapons at Bodak’s Blades. Draegyn told us that all food and drink was on him this evening should we wish to celebrate our success. We simply hoisted our mugs to Cromwell’s memory, drank our drinks and left the Falling Star tavern.
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For fans of the Iron Kingdoms, be sure to check out the journals of the would-be gunmage - Heinrich Uberlich!
IRON KINGDOMS: The Journals of Heinrich Uberlich
For fans of superheroes check out my teen superhero M&M game over at the AtomicThinkTank boards
Power and Responsibility: A Teen Superhero Story Hour
. I'll post the next part of my Witchfire Trilogy Journals The following is the short adventure "Fool's Errand" that takes place before Part II. Enjoy!__________________________________________________
Friday, March 21st, 603 AR
“A Death in the family”
A tragedy has occurred. Our friend Cromwell is dead, killed at the hands of a gang of thugs who sought to possess a powerful weapon, a Steamjack!
Cromwell and I clashed on several occasions but it seemed recently that he had begun to change his tune. He was gradually loosing his larcenous views and beginning to take an interest in this city and its people. Even Father Darius told me that he believed that Cromwell was on his way to becoming a better man, and that is saying a lot considering the Priest and the Elf did not see eye to eye very often, if ever. His wry smile, camaraderie and battle prowess will be sorely missed. Rest in peace Cromwell, may you find what you were seeking in life, at last in death.
It all began yesterday morning when we met at the Church of Morrow. It had been over a week since I had last seen my companions and I was eager to hear what they had been up to. They told me that they had been investigating a series of bizarre murders. The victims had been all drained of blood and a Vampyre was suspected. I laughed at this knowing full well that Vampyres are but creatures from children’s stories. Anyway they explained that the murderer was a half-bat, half-human hybrid and unfortunately it had gotten away. All attempts to find the creature, or a beggar that Cromwell believed was the creature, have proven to be futile. I did have some good news to offer as I passed the proceeds of the sale of the gold disk to my companions; I had a buyer lined up for the field glass.
At this stage Father Dumas approached us and asked if we would carry out a simple shopping excursion for him. Father Darius agreed for the lot of us and we decided to tag along, as some of us were eager to do some shopping anyway. I finally purchased a great coat, dark green in colour. During our shopping trip Yama Khan and Father Darius claimed to have noticed a dark figure watching them but they soon lost him in the crowd. Father Darius remembered seeing the man at the Church of Morrow where repairs were being carried out after the Longest Night. He distinctly remembers that the man was just loitering and not actually helping with the repairs. Having finished gathering the supplies for Father Dumas we returned to the Church of Morrow.
Father Dumas thanked us and handed as a wax sealed letter addressed to “The Heroes of the Longest Night”. The letter read “Meet me at the Falling Star tavern, this evening.” It has only recently occurred to me that I should have taken the chance to compare the writing in the letter with the penmanship of Alexia Ciannor. We could have been walking into a trap! I wonder how long before she will show her face in Corvis again.
Anyway we waited around until evening and went to meet with our mysterious messenger. At the Falling Star tavern we secured a table and sat down to wait. After a couple of minutes a dark dressed man of debatable character approached our table and without asking pulled up a chair. He told us he had sent the letter and Father Darius and Yama Khan indeed did recognize him from the market place. He went on to say that his employer would be willing to offers a substantial reward for retrieving something that had been stolen from his employer. He refused to tell us what the reward would be or who his employers was. He even told us that we would know the item we were to retrieve when we saw it. He referred to it only as “Thunderwicket”. At this point it took all three of us to convince Father Darius to come along on this “mission.” Now I wish we had listened to Father Darius and turned down the man’s offer if only to have Cromwell still with us. We accepted the task and were given address of an apparently “abandoned” warehouse in Filcher’s Crossing, one of the seedier parts of Corvis or so I have been told. We bid the man farewell and stepped out into the night air. Yama Khan brought up the interesting point that we had not asked our middleman his name? Not wanting to look foolish by going back inside to ask, we headed off.
In Filcher’s Crossing we came across a dead man, he had been garroted and in his clenched fist was a coin with the symbol of the Gertren Family stamped upon it. Cromwell produced a similar coin from his pockets and Father Darius gave him a withering look. Cromwell pocketed the two coins and we continued on. Soon after we heard the sounds of another possible “slaying” and hurried on our way. This place sickened me and I forced myself to fight the urge to investigate these killings, and bring the culprits to justice. It would serve no one if we were killed because we did not ‘look the other way’ but I swear on my father’s grave that I will clean up the crime in this city someday.
We reached the abandoned warehouse and proceeded to climb over the high stone wall. My efforts proved a little too noisy for Cromwell but we did manage to cross the surrounding scrap metal filled lot without making too much noise. Reaching the two-story warehouse we found a single door open but with crates pushed up against it. Not wanting to risk knocking the crates over and creating a racket, Cromwell offered to try for the roof. He returned moments later to tell us that the roof was one huge slab of iron with three large smoke stacks, in other words we had to enter via the door. Being careful as possible we pushed open the door and proceeded inside.
The warehouse was dark save for some light streaming through a side office doorway. There were many crates around and a large furnace stood in the center with two ramps running off it. Above us, a walkway circumvented the warehouse and many chains hung from the ceiling holding mekanika parts and large iron smoke stacks. We moved to investigate the office first. Inside we found the office lit by a lantern and discovered a well made greatcoat lined with pockets, four exceptionally well made daggers and several vials of liquid, all of this we confiscated. We also found a metal coffer filled with gold crowns and a good-sized amethyst. We pocketed the amethyst and promised to come back later for the money, once we had found “Thunderwicket”. On the wall there was a map of Filcher’s Crossing with some strange markings. I found it odd that Cromwell didn’t recognize as they were obviously written in thieves’ code but this served to confirm my suspicion that he wasn’t as larcenous as I was led to believe.
The lit office had another room next door but inside we found only a table with half-eaten meals and nine empty mugs. We stepped out of this office and then the cow droppings hit the mekanika-powered wind-blowing device!
I loud rumbling sound suddenly started up and movement all around told us we were not alone. Before we knew it we were surrounded by thugs both at ground level and up on the walkways. A roguish figure leapt up onto a crate and yelled “Thunderwicket kill those Gertren boys! Kill them all!” At that point “Thunderwicket” made its appearance as a huge Steamjack lumbered out from behind a tall stack of crates. Across the Steamjack’s chest was riveted a metal plate bearing the name “Thunderwicket.” The roguish fellow cried, “No one messes with Mad Malik!”
Cromwell rushed to take down Mad Malik and I fired on the nearest thug but missed. I could not see what my other two companions were doing, but from the sound of chanting and an incantation the answer was obvious. A glowing greatsword appeared above Mad Malik’s head and narrowly missed him. Crossbow bolts began to rain down on us and I rushed for cover behind a large crate casting a Shield spell as soon as I was behind it.
Above the hum of my spell I suddenly heard the seven words I didn’t want to hear come from Mad Malik “Thunderwicket. Kill the mage behind that crate!” I looked over the crate to see the Steamjack turn in my direction and begin to lumber towards me. This was the Bridge Troll incident all over again save this time I had no explosive powder keg. I got to my feet and ran, passing two thugs bent on ending my career. Spinning around a spoke the incantation of the Burning Hands spell, given to me by Yama Khan. The two thugs easily ducked beneath the flames. Thunderwicket crushed the crate I was hiding behind and kept on coming.
I found myself surrounded by three thugs and as I attempted to dodge their pathetic blows, the Steamjack got closer and swung at me with its huge arms. The blow struck me across the back throwing me clear of the thugs and into a stack of crates. So much for my healed ribs. At the time I thought if I lived through this night I would lie in bed for a week.
I scrambled to my feet and saw Father Darius fighting a thug behind some crates in an alcove. I rushed towards the cleric of Morrow; the three thugs and Thunderwicket hot on my heels. Father Darius glanced at me and then at the Steamjack heading in our direction. Had I been able to read lips I could have sworn that he spoke a curse so foul that would make Cromwell, rest his soul, proud! My Shield spell easily deflected several more blows from the thugs and I ducked beneath another mighty swing from Thunderwicket. At that moment I noticed the Steamjack’s furnace hatch glowing orange with its internal fires. I looked up and saw the Steamjack’s smoke stacks. I had to take a chance at this nigh impossible task I was about to attempt for I could not last another second against this mekanikal monstrosity. From my belt pouch I drew forth the canister of flame extinguishing liquid the Captain Helstrom had given me during the Longest Night. I kissed it once for good luck and then lobbed it up toward one of the Steamjack’s smokestacks. The canister sailed up into the air spinning end over end, even the three thugs watched it go up and then as it reached the smoke stack it dropped in! What happened next was a scene I will never forget. There was a wooshing sound from the Steamjack’s belly and then a loud hiss as the magical liquid snuffed out its internal fires. The Steamjack took one final swing as its mekanika gears began to wind down. Its arm caught onto a chain and ripped it from the ceiling. The chain had been holding up a large furnace funnel, which suddenly swung down and crashed through one of the walls and part of the floor. As everyone stood in shock a loud cracking noise saw almost three-quarters of the floor of the warehouse drop away into darkness! I saw Father Darius fall away from me but he was not close enough as I invoked a Featherfall spell and slowly descended into the darkness below.
The sound of crumbling stone and twisted metal slowly eased up as my feet touched uneven ground. I rushed to Father Darius and helped him to his feet; he wasn’t as badly hurt as I so I asked him to heal me. As he did so I rolled out my scroll of Invisibility and cast the spell. I could hear the sound of rushing water nearby and up above the calls of Mad Malik and his thugs. Suddenly a bizarre creature leapt out of the darkness wrapping two long green tentacles around Father Darius’ head. This was becoming to much, I could see Yama Khan across from me look at the thing that grappled Father Darius in shock, I know he was thinking to cut our loses and run. Forgive me father for the same thought crossed my mind if for but a brief moment, then I drew forth my heavy military pick and rushed to Father Darius’ aid. My invisibility spell ended just as Yama Khan joined the fray, swinging wildly with his quarterstaff. Then the strange beast leapt off Father Darius and onto the Steamjack that had rekindled its internal fires somehow and was beginning to rise to its feet. The bizarre creature tore into the damaged Steamjack, ripping metal plates from its body as if trying to get at something inside.
Father Darius stumbled towards us and said “That thing, it ripped two of my spells from my mind!” At that moment I told my companions that now was the time to leave. Father Darius asked about Cromwell. I had forgotten about him during the battle, and at that moment I had a bad feeling in my stomach that Cromwell was dead.
Father Darius confirmed my suspicion when he rushed back carrying the body of Cromwell over his shoulder. Yama Khan held up the metal plate that was riveted to Thunderwicket’s chest and said, “We are getting paid for going through this sh…”. He was cut off as we heard Mad Malik call for his boys to fetch some rope so that they could climb down and “hunt down these Gertren thieves!”
We followed a narrow passage with water rushing past us, Father Darius, burdened by the body of Cromwell, slipped and went sliding down the passageway. Yama Khan and I did our best to catch up. The water chute opened up into a long buried portion of the Undercity illuminated by a strange bluish moss. We dragged ourselves to the shore and began to look for a way out.
One building caught our attention as it leaned at an odd angle and part of it had rotted or dissolved away. We entered the building and discovered it to be an old alchemist’s lab. We found several metal plates inscribed with runes, a ring with a message about Cyriss, the Clockwork Goddess and a masterwork stiletto inscribed with the letter ‘P’. I have kept the stiletto and will try and check Corvis’ history books for an alchemist with the first initial ‘P’.
We also found a large stone vat sealed with wax. Breaking the wax revealed that it was filled with acid. Such a quantity would be worth a small fortune on the open market but we had no means of transporting it. We did find several vials of it though and realized that the vials we found in the office upstairs were also acid. Then we heard the voices of Mad Malik and his thugs. Using my military pick I levered up the stone vat and with Yama Khan’s help tipped it over toward the other end of the room. The hissing sound indicated that the acid was still potent and was eating away at the building’s foundation. We quickly exited and ran toward the ruins of another building. The crack of a pistol told us that Mad Malik was close.
We ducked behind cover and began to return fire. Mad Malik and his men took cover behind the alchemist’s building. Moments later it toppled over, unfortunately killing only one of Mad Malik’s thugs.
Not wanting to go through another prolonged battle in our condition I told the other two to run for the other flooded passage while I covered them. At last we dove into the water and let the current carry us into the Black River and out into Corvis Harbor. During my swim I dropped my heavy military pick because of it was weighing me down. I have decided not to replace the cumbersome weapon.
We decided to head back to the Church of Corvis as dawn was slowly peeking over the horizon. On the way a guard made some offhand comment about our stench and was promptly berated by Father Darius. The good Father is starting to finally grow on me, though he remains a little too uptight for my liking. I know he will voice his displeasure at going on this ‘mission’ especially with the loss of Cromwell. I will remind him that though we were working for an undesirable individual who was probably part of a large crime family, we did keep a powerful weapon out of two crime families hands by destroying it. No doubt that bizarre creature we encountered wanted to feed on the Steamjacks’ magical cortex-brain. I am certain that Thunderwicket is no more.
The next day we returned to the Falling Star Tavern, the barman, one Dando “The Bull” Kildair, poured us a round and led us upstairs to our meeting with Draegyn “the Bastard” as he called him. Draegyn seemed genuinely happy to see us, obviously word had reached him quickly about what had occurred in the warehouse. Yama Khan dropped the metal nameplate onto the table and Draegyn handed us our payment, a bag of gems as well as four credit notes for masterworking weapons at Bodak’s Blades. Draegyn told us that all food and drink was on him this evening should we wish to celebrate our success. We simply hoisted our mugs to Cromwell’s memory, drank our drinks and left the Falling Star tavern.
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For fans of the Iron Kingdoms, be sure to check out the journals of the would-be gunmage - Heinrich Uberlich!
IRON KINGDOMS: The Journals of Heinrich Uberlich
For fans of superheroes check out my teen superhero M&M game over at the AtomicThinkTank boards
Power and Responsibility: A Teen Superhero Story Hour
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Monty Tomasi
First Post
Great action, great adventure. A fun read as always
The "viewed" counter is going up which is always a good sign of people taking an interest in the Story Hour. It's rare for people to give feedback, I personally don't give much in general as I find it breaks the flow of the story.
My advise is: write for the pure & simple pleasure of writing. People will read it if it's any good. See my comment above about how I rate the SH so far
The "viewed" counter is going up which is always a good sign of people taking an interest in the Story Hour. It's rare for people to give feedback, I personally don't give much in general as I find it breaks the flow of the story.
My advise is: write for the pure & simple pleasure of writing. People will read it if it's any good. See my comment above about how I rate the SH so far
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Kale Silvermoon
First Post
keep them commin for if the next is as good as the last, we will all be happy.
ReeboKesh
First Post
Sunday, March 23rd, 603 AR
“On the trail of Alexia”
As I write in my journal I cannot shake the feeling that a new chapter has begun in the book that is Alexia Ciannor. This morning Father Dumas called us together with some promising news. His spiritual divinations had revealed to him the possible next phase in Alexia’s mysterious plan. He told us that his errant niece was heading for an ancient temple of Cyriss, the Clockwork Goddess, located in the jungle-like bayous north east of Corvis. He believes she is seeking an ancient mekanikal artifact that can bring the dead back to life! Obviously she wants to resurrect her mother Lexaria Ciannor from the dead and not reanimate her like the four undead coven witches that she commands. At this point in the conversation I heard Father Darius say, “Curse her blasphemous ways!” Looking at Yama Khan confirmed that he was thinking the same as I, with this device Cromwell could be resurrected as well! Father Dumas suggested we go to the docks and procure a steamboat to take us up the Black River and into the bayou. He also suggested seeing Captain Helstrom about hiring on additional help. I am sure he meant no disrespect to Cromwell’s memory.
After Father Dumas left our presence I turned to Father Darius and told him that we would be taking Cromwell’s body with us and if there was a chance that this resurrection artifact did indeed exist, we would use it to bring Cromwell back to life. I heated argument started between the stubborn priest, and Yama Khan and myself. Father Darius refused to acknowledge any possibility that this device could do what we were told it could do and even argued that the actual idea of resurrection was blasphemous to him and the teachings of Morrow and that he would destroy the artifact given half the chance. It was almost as if Yama Khan and I were of one mind, for we both agreed at the same time, to not discuss this matter further with Father Darius. We left the church to find a boat willing to ferry us up the Black River. I thought has occurred to me, the ring we found in the Undercity bore the inscription “In Cyriss there is truth”. Could this be an omen telling us to disregard the teachings of Morrow and the other Gods on the subject of resurrection?
At the Falling Star Tavern we spoke with a Captain Edem who directed us to seek out a boat called The Fortune and its owner, Captain Squint, in the morning. I tipped him for the information and Yama Khan and I have returned to Cromwell’s old room in the Gargoyle’s Pole Inn, which Yama has continued to rent.
As I finish up this entry Yama Khan and I have decided to retrieve Cromwell’s body from the City Morgue and place it within a large chest. Yama Khan said he would apply some preservative chemicals to it so that it does not give off the customary foul odor of a rotting corpse. We will carry this chest aboard the boat we hire and if Father Darius asks about it, we will simple say that it contains our possessions. I do not enjoy lying to the young priest but I will not allow his stubborn religious views to stop me from bring my friend back to life.
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“On the trail of Alexia”
As I write in my journal I cannot shake the feeling that a new chapter has begun in the book that is Alexia Ciannor. This morning Father Dumas called us together with some promising news. His spiritual divinations had revealed to him the possible next phase in Alexia’s mysterious plan. He told us that his errant niece was heading for an ancient temple of Cyriss, the Clockwork Goddess, located in the jungle-like bayous north east of Corvis. He believes she is seeking an ancient mekanikal artifact that can bring the dead back to life! Obviously she wants to resurrect her mother Lexaria Ciannor from the dead and not reanimate her like the four undead coven witches that she commands. At this point in the conversation I heard Father Darius say, “Curse her blasphemous ways!” Looking at Yama Khan confirmed that he was thinking the same as I, with this device Cromwell could be resurrected as well! Father Dumas suggested we go to the docks and procure a steamboat to take us up the Black River and into the bayou. He also suggested seeing Captain Helstrom about hiring on additional help. I am sure he meant no disrespect to Cromwell’s memory.
After Father Dumas left our presence I turned to Father Darius and told him that we would be taking Cromwell’s body with us and if there was a chance that this resurrection artifact did indeed exist, we would use it to bring Cromwell back to life. I heated argument started between the stubborn priest, and Yama Khan and myself. Father Darius refused to acknowledge any possibility that this device could do what we were told it could do and even argued that the actual idea of resurrection was blasphemous to him and the teachings of Morrow and that he would destroy the artifact given half the chance. It was almost as if Yama Khan and I were of one mind, for we both agreed at the same time, to not discuss this matter further with Father Darius. We left the church to find a boat willing to ferry us up the Black River. I thought has occurred to me, the ring we found in the Undercity bore the inscription “In Cyriss there is truth”. Could this be an omen telling us to disregard the teachings of Morrow and the other Gods on the subject of resurrection?
At the Falling Star Tavern we spoke with a Captain Edem who directed us to seek out a boat called The Fortune and its owner, Captain Squint, in the morning. I tipped him for the information and Yama Khan and I have returned to Cromwell’s old room in the Gargoyle’s Pole Inn, which Yama has continued to rent.
As I finish up this entry Yama Khan and I have decided to retrieve Cromwell’s body from the City Morgue and place it within a large chest. Yama Khan said he would apply some preservative chemicals to it so that it does not give off the customary foul odor of a rotting corpse. We will carry this chest aboard the boat we hire and if Father Darius asks about it, we will simple say that it contains our possessions. I do not enjoy lying to the young priest but I will not allow his stubborn religious views to stop me from bring my friend back to life.
____________________________________
ReeboKesh
First Post
Monday, March 24th, 603 AR
“Swampies, Swamp Shamblers and a man named Damien Wolf”
Our good Captain Squint has dropped anchor at the end of a long day’s journey through the gloomy, foul smelling and insect plagued bayou. A young man called Damien Wolf, an investigator who has worked with our Captain Helstrom in the past, has joined us. I have only spoken with him briefly, but he felt he trusted Yama Khan and myself enough to reveal to us that he possessed arcane talents. I believe he may be one of these sorcerers I have heard about but I have yet to confirm my suspicions.
Our journey north took us past a swamp dweller's village earlier today; Captain Squint referred to them as “swampies” and had the ship dock to pick up some supplies. We decided to disembark and ask these “swampies” if they had seen anyone suspicious looking traveling up the Black River. Firstly I most add that these “swampies” speak with an accent that is almost incomprehensible to normal people like us. We did eventually learn however that several of their graves had been mysteriously dug up and the bodies stolen. One old man also claimed to have seen a steamboat pass the village and onboard was the “purtiest gurl he’d ever seen”. No doubt it was Alexia and she was getting further and further ahead of us with every passing moment. As we began to leave, the old man offered to sell us a bizarre talisman made from plants, dead animals and rocks. He claimed it could repel Swamp Shamblers, we were skeptical at the time but purchased the talisman anyway after we haggled the price down to 80 gold crowns!
Our journey continued and several hours later we were able to test the talisman’s properties when we were attacked by a dozen Swamp Shamblers! Even Father Darius’ clerical powers failed to turn these undead marauders away but Yama Khan was able to drive several back by holding forth the primitive talisman. After a fierce battle they were all defeated.
We have healed our wounds and those of the crew; Captain Squint, First Mate Killian and Seaman Adon and have tossed the Swamp Shamblers corpses overboard. Captain Squint has moved the Fortune some distance away from the scene of our battle and dropped anchor. I should be able to get some sleep tonight if these insects stop biting me.
____________________________________
“Swampies, Swamp Shamblers and a man named Damien Wolf”
Our good Captain Squint has dropped anchor at the end of a long day’s journey through the gloomy, foul smelling and insect plagued bayou. A young man called Damien Wolf, an investigator who has worked with our Captain Helstrom in the past, has joined us. I have only spoken with him briefly, but he felt he trusted Yama Khan and myself enough to reveal to us that he possessed arcane talents. I believe he may be one of these sorcerers I have heard about but I have yet to confirm my suspicions.
Our journey north took us past a swamp dweller's village earlier today; Captain Squint referred to them as “swampies” and had the ship dock to pick up some supplies. We decided to disembark and ask these “swampies” if they had seen anyone suspicious looking traveling up the Black River. Firstly I most add that these “swampies” speak with an accent that is almost incomprehensible to normal people like us. We did eventually learn however that several of their graves had been mysteriously dug up and the bodies stolen. One old man also claimed to have seen a steamboat pass the village and onboard was the “purtiest gurl he’d ever seen”. No doubt it was Alexia and she was getting further and further ahead of us with every passing moment. As we began to leave, the old man offered to sell us a bizarre talisman made from plants, dead animals and rocks. He claimed it could repel Swamp Shamblers, we were skeptical at the time but purchased the talisman anyway after we haggled the price down to 80 gold crowns!
Our journey continued and several hours later we were able to test the talisman’s properties when we were attacked by a dozen Swamp Shamblers! Even Father Darius’ clerical powers failed to turn these undead marauders away but Yama Khan was able to drive several back by holding forth the primitive talisman. After a fierce battle they were all defeated.
We have healed our wounds and those of the crew; Captain Squint, First Mate Killian and Seaman Adon and have tossed the Swamp Shamblers corpses overboard. Captain Squint has moved the Fortune some distance away from the scene of our battle and dropped anchor. I should be able to get some sleep tonight if these insects stop biting me.
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Kale Silvermoon
First Post
the plot thikins. I like the use of "The Young Clerics" fellings tword ressing(reserection to you noobs... all 3 of you.)
