The poster for Episode 7: "Descend & Forget" is now up on www.2d10.org
Stay tuned for a new entry from Tuesdays game.
Stay tuned for a new entry from Tuesdays game.
WFRP2: 'The Fate Bound'
Son_of_Thunder
Explorer
WooHoo!!
With my pint (they come in pints!?) in hand I'm eagerly anticipating further adventures of this motley group.
With my pint (they come in pints!?) in hand I'm eagerly anticipating further adventures of this motley group.
Konrad's Journal: Die Schwergängigkeit von Schicksalen
Erntezeit 3:
I make this entry by the light of the Rusty Lantern. It may be my last for some time.
Before our descent into darkness, we hit a stroke of luck. I met an old friend of mine on the streets leading to our sewer entry. A dwarven mercenary from Nuln, Orzad. After a pint, I convinced him to join our quest for answers. Though I think it had as much to do with the potential rewards as my persuasive demeanor.
What happened next is still as mystery to us all. When next I awoke, we were laying in dank, musty cell. The first thing I saw was a dwarven statue. Laying beside me were most of my allies. However, the wizard Blocksberg lay dead and his blind seer was missing. Ingrid was badly wounded and did not have her sense about her. Hanz, our historian, missing. Also in the cell lay Artemis Bale. My first instinct was to shoot him. Such was not to be his fate, however. A strange elven girl now graced our presence. She had a pouch similar to Blocksberg, a wizard, which I took off her before she awakened. I wasn’t going to have her casting spells until I new if she were friend or foe. Once awakened, she gave her name as Katanya and claimed to be a student of Blocksberg’s. Rather than kill each other, all of us agreed to work together in order to survive whatever fate had befallen us.
Oh, yes, and around my neck was key.
The Key. What powers were at work here? Were we cursed by one of our enemies? Was this bizarre turn of fate the work of higher powers? Why kill the powerful wizard, but then award us with the key everyone coveted? I had no time to consider it, really. Whatever the source, cursing my fate would not help me escape it. We moved on.
After searching the cell we found a trap door that lead down into a dark passageway that stank of beast and old bones. Hugo volunteered to scout down the hole, with nothing but a rope tied to his body. A true held, indeed. When the darkness began to move, we pulled Hugo to safety, despite his yearnings to remain and fight what lurked in the depths.
We turned our attention to the cell door. Though it seemed a simple task to open it, all of us were leery of what lay on the other side. But then Katanya boldly stepped forward and opened the door. We were right to worry. What assaulted us is hard to describe. A great horned beast. Composed mostly of fang and sinew from my vantage point. Unfortunately for it, we are composed of even tougher resolve. Moments later the creature lie at our feet.
Unable to move poor Ingrid, we were almost tempted to leave her. However as Hugo prepared the Rusty Lantern for our hike into the dark caverns, the light of the lantern hit the statue…which began to move. No wonder the sewer jacks valued the lantern so highly!
So we continued on, our party changed, but no less formidable, followed by a dwarven statue carrying one of its fallen kin. Our prowling brought us to a ladder built into the stone walls, leading up to a trap door. Once again, we were forced to choose between a fallen comrade and escape from the deadly caves. We had no choice. The maps and notes spoke of the statues ability to protect and ward off evil creatures. I hope, for Ingrid’s sake, such legends are true. We forced to leave her behind. The battles we knew lay ahead of us were no place for a defenseless warrior. Looking back, I can only hope she awoke and was able to find her way out of the sewers.
Our ascent up the ladder lead into a well crafted stone hall. As we walked its corridors, we were amazed at the craftsmanship of the architecture. Who knew such a place existed so deep in the sewers. Little did we know what lie in store for us.
The first thing we found was the brewery. Trust the dwarves to have their priorities in order. We found some bottles that still survived and were filled with a particularly strong dwarven ale. Cheers. Beneath the brewery we found a secret door that lead to stairs down into a dwarven crypt. The others eyes lit up with greed, but I saw no such great prize. I do not rob graves. I left them to their sport.
As we explored the dwarven stronghold further, we nearly stumbled into disaster. We heard digging. Once again, brave Hugo volunteered to go ahead and scout out the sounds. He returned with a white face. Elizabeth had finally caught up to us. She had brought friends. A troop of witchhunters, great beast-hounds…and Mr. Peabody. They had found their own way into the sewers and were digging their way through an old collapsed passageway. Despite my better judgment, I allowed the others to talk me out of trying to collapse the ceiling on them. I still almost regret listening to them instead of the dwarven ale that was keeping me warm.
We moved, staying ahead of them as much as we could. All along I kept my eye on Artemis Bale. He had been the one who first ambushed the caravan in order to get the key. So he had worked for either Elizabeth or the Lockmeister Hinterhalt, Mr. Peabody’s ex-employer. Either way, he had more ties to those who followed us than with me and my allies. For a second time, I considered killing him. My restraint was to soon be rewarded.
While most of us were examining a rune-encrusted door, Hugo and Yavindeer were attacked by chaos hounds sent ahead by Elizabeth. Orzad was the first to get there and work the hounds with his axe. The rest of us soon followed. Except Artemis. Apparently he had been waiting for such a moment to escape and forge on ahead without us. I can imagine him remaining behind and desperately scrabbling at the lock, hoping to open it before we returned. As we finished off the 3 advance hounds, we managed to barricade ourselves inside a Dwarven Chapel while the rest of the chaos hounds swarmed the corridor. They clawed and scratched at the doors, but couldn’t get to their prey. Until one of them caught Artemis’s scent. I can also imagine the look on his face when the pack fell upon him. I can even hear his screams in my mind’s eye as they ate him alive.
Artemis’s demise served as a fine distraction and we were able to slip behind the pack and along the corridor into another room. In it we found a throne. How fitting. After we locked ourselves in, we begin to search for another way out. What we found were corpses. One in particular was garbed in great armor and a helm fitted with a plume that made him look very much the peacock. Hugo skill at heraldry told him that this group was a Bretonian knight and his entourage. On a quest he surmised. I hope my own quest does not end so disastrously. Of course, out of deep respect no doubt, my companions fell upon the bodies like ravenous scavengers.
It didn’t take long for our enemies to catch up with us, trapped in the throne room as we were. I soon heard them playing with the locks on the door. Several of them soon crowded around the door, trying to open it. I’m sure the others saw the smile on my face as they finally swung the doors outward…just to see me standing there…with my blunderbuss. The first witchhunter went down, torn to shreds. The others received various and sundry wounds. Mr. Peabody suffered for his looming frame and caught much of the blast. The fight was on. It did not last long. These witchhunters did not match the talent of the last ones we fought. They soon dropped, leaving us face to face with the Ogre bodyguard. The poor oaf was no match for our blades, arrows, and magics. I once wondered if it would be worth it to hire him as my bodyguard. I am quite glad, now, that I did not waste my gold. His ex-employer, the wheelchair-ridden feeble old man Hinterhalt lasted longer.
Elizabeth and her remaining hounds and hunters decided that it was best not to test us any further. Perhaps she had put too much faith in the ogre and her chaos overlords and not enough in our cold steel. They fled.
We soon found what was left of Artemis Bale. All that remained was his iron mask and mechanical arm. And bite marks. The mask I kept, for it would serve me well once I return to Middenheim and take control over his guild of thieves.
As we opened the doors, a wave of heat blew past us and our eyes came upon a room split in half by a crevice that fell hundreds of feet and at its bottom a river of lava. I had not realized how far into the earth we had descended these last couple of days. Across the chasm stretched a bridge of rotting wood. Beyond it a golden statue, carved into a likeness of a creature out of fables and legends. A dragon.
We had just managed to cross the bridge, though we almost lost Katanya to the fiery river below. As the rest of my companions searched for loot and a secret door that we knew must exist, Elizabeth found me once again. A pity that we couldn’t work together. But once she burned off Katianas’s arm with fiery acid from her mouth, it was quite clear to me that her loyalties lay with those forces with witch I have no loyalty. Chaos. I am many things, but a lapdog of the abyss I shall never be. Once again, Elizabeth proved her skill in treachery, but also her ignorance of battle. With minions trapped on one side of the now ruined bridge (never throw a dwarf. Halflings, yes, dwarves…no) their crossbows were no match for elven archery or Hugo’s sling. Or my blunderbuss. The died as they stood.
After Orzad and Hugo finished their looting of the golden dragon, they got around to finding a passage way that lead out into a great cave that split into two curving paths, separately by a giant stalagmite. As we began to tromp our way through the caves, however, the stalagmite began to move.
Like a giant snake uncoiling from his perch, the ‘stalagmite’ brought its head around to meet mine. At that angle I saw something that I never believed existed. Something from legend and nightmare. Sigmar’s Eternal Guardian as written on the map. They might have also mentioned that it was a dragon. It seemed more concerned about us disrupting its sleep than about our presence in the Abode of Magnus. I could have talked our way out of it easily if it hadn’t smelled its treasure on Orzad! The great creature allowed us to leave once its treasure was returned to it. I guess were not what it was there to guard against. A reasonable creature all things considered.
As we quickly left the Eternal Guardian’s chambers behind and made our way down the narrow, snaking passage of stairs that followed, we began to hear a gentle lapping. Not one of us uttered a word as we made our way out of the passage into a endless cavern and the waters of a great subterranean lake. Its waters were gently washing ashore as we walked down to its edge. A strange dwarven stone boat, its sides laden with gleaming runes rested on the shore’s edge.
But we were not alone. Standing before the boat was the High Sigmaran Priest Stolz himself. I wasn’t sure if he was part of the corruption or not. I think he was even less sure of my part in it. But he wanted the Key and that was too much. I wasn’t about to give it to a man who had allowed so much corruption into his church. Who sat by while witchhunter cults of his own faith butchered so many. Neither of us were in the mood for words. I let my actions speak for me. I’ll say this, he is fast with that battering ram he calls a hammer. We both swung our weapons. We both made our targets. My blade to his crown, his hammer to mine. Only I remained standing. With him at my feet and helpless…I allowed him to live. His death did not feel right to me. I’m sure we will meet again. I hope it will be as allies.
As we float along huddled in this bizarre boat, I hurry to finish my accounting of our travels up to this point. It is difficult to say how long we have been traveling in this boat, which seems to move of its own accord. I can feel the power of its runes grow stronger as we drift father into the dark horizon.
My enemies are dead or defeated. The threats to my conquests are diminished. Yet I push onward as though my ambitions are not my own. My plans to control the streets of Middenheim seem so distant to me now. Those goals that I would have gladly lied and killed to achieve, no longer guide my thoughts. Instead I look inward. In the last few days I feel as though I am no longer the man I once was, but am not sure who I have become.
I know that turning back is no longer an option. I shall enter the Unseen Library and take the Test of Magnus. I shall look upon the Tomb of the Pious and see what stares back.
I can’t help wondering how much of me will remain after our journey into oblivion.
END OF SEASON 1: FATE BOUND CAMPAIGN
Erntezeit 3:
I make this entry by the light of the Rusty Lantern. It may be my last for some time.
Before our descent into darkness, we hit a stroke of luck. I met an old friend of mine on the streets leading to our sewer entry. A dwarven mercenary from Nuln, Orzad. After a pint, I convinced him to join our quest for answers. Though I think it had as much to do with the potential rewards as my persuasive demeanor.
What happened next is still as mystery to us all. When next I awoke, we were laying in dank, musty cell. The first thing I saw was a dwarven statue. Laying beside me were most of my allies. However, the wizard Blocksberg lay dead and his blind seer was missing. Ingrid was badly wounded and did not have her sense about her. Hanz, our historian, missing. Also in the cell lay Artemis Bale. My first instinct was to shoot him. Such was not to be his fate, however. A strange elven girl now graced our presence. She had a pouch similar to Blocksberg, a wizard, which I took off her before she awakened. I wasn’t going to have her casting spells until I new if she were friend or foe. Once awakened, she gave her name as Katanya and claimed to be a student of Blocksberg’s. Rather than kill each other, all of us agreed to work together in order to survive whatever fate had befallen us.
Oh, yes, and around my neck was key.
The Key. What powers were at work here? Were we cursed by one of our enemies? Was this bizarre turn of fate the work of higher powers? Why kill the powerful wizard, but then award us with the key everyone coveted? I had no time to consider it, really. Whatever the source, cursing my fate would not help me escape it. We moved on.
After searching the cell we found a trap door that lead down into a dark passageway that stank of beast and old bones. Hugo volunteered to scout down the hole, with nothing but a rope tied to his body. A true held, indeed. When the darkness began to move, we pulled Hugo to safety, despite his yearnings to remain and fight what lurked in the depths.
We turned our attention to the cell door. Though it seemed a simple task to open it, all of us were leery of what lay on the other side. But then Katanya boldly stepped forward and opened the door. We were right to worry. What assaulted us is hard to describe. A great horned beast. Composed mostly of fang and sinew from my vantage point. Unfortunately for it, we are composed of even tougher resolve. Moments later the creature lie at our feet.
Unable to move poor Ingrid, we were almost tempted to leave her. However as Hugo prepared the Rusty Lantern for our hike into the dark caverns, the light of the lantern hit the statue…which began to move. No wonder the sewer jacks valued the lantern so highly!
So we continued on, our party changed, but no less formidable, followed by a dwarven statue carrying one of its fallen kin. Our prowling brought us to a ladder built into the stone walls, leading up to a trap door. Once again, we were forced to choose between a fallen comrade and escape from the deadly caves. We had no choice. The maps and notes spoke of the statues ability to protect and ward off evil creatures. I hope, for Ingrid’s sake, such legends are true. We forced to leave her behind. The battles we knew lay ahead of us were no place for a defenseless warrior. Looking back, I can only hope she awoke and was able to find her way out of the sewers.
Our ascent up the ladder lead into a well crafted stone hall. As we walked its corridors, we were amazed at the craftsmanship of the architecture. Who knew such a place existed so deep in the sewers. Little did we know what lie in store for us.
The first thing we found was the brewery. Trust the dwarves to have their priorities in order. We found some bottles that still survived and were filled with a particularly strong dwarven ale. Cheers. Beneath the brewery we found a secret door that lead to stairs down into a dwarven crypt. The others eyes lit up with greed, but I saw no such great prize. I do not rob graves. I left them to their sport.
As we explored the dwarven stronghold further, we nearly stumbled into disaster. We heard digging. Once again, brave Hugo volunteered to go ahead and scout out the sounds. He returned with a white face. Elizabeth had finally caught up to us. She had brought friends. A troop of witchhunters, great beast-hounds…and Mr. Peabody. They had found their own way into the sewers and were digging their way through an old collapsed passageway. Despite my better judgment, I allowed the others to talk me out of trying to collapse the ceiling on them. I still almost regret listening to them instead of the dwarven ale that was keeping me warm.
We moved, staying ahead of them as much as we could. All along I kept my eye on Artemis Bale. He had been the one who first ambushed the caravan in order to get the key. So he had worked for either Elizabeth or the Lockmeister Hinterhalt, Mr. Peabody’s ex-employer. Either way, he had more ties to those who followed us than with me and my allies. For a second time, I considered killing him. My restraint was to soon be rewarded.
While most of us were examining a rune-encrusted door, Hugo and Yavindeer were attacked by chaos hounds sent ahead by Elizabeth. Orzad was the first to get there and work the hounds with his axe. The rest of us soon followed. Except Artemis. Apparently he had been waiting for such a moment to escape and forge on ahead without us. I can imagine him remaining behind and desperately scrabbling at the lock, hoping to open it before we returned. As we finished off the 3 advance hounds, we managed to barricade ourselves inside a Dwarven Chapel while the rest of the chaos hounds swarmed the corridor. They clawed and scratched at the doors, but couldn’t get to their prey. Until one of them caught Artemis’s scent. I can also imagine the look on his face when the pack fell upon him. I can even hear his screams in my mind’s eye as they ate him alive.
Artemis’s demise served as a fine distraction and we were able to slip behind the pack and along the corridor into another room. In it we found a throne. How fitting. After we locked ourselves in, we begin to search for another way out. What we found were corpses. One in particular was garbed in great armor and a helm fitted with a plume that made him look very much the peacock. Hugo skill at heraldry told him that this group was a Bretonian knight and his entourage. On a quest he surmised. I hope my own quest does not end so disastrously. Of course, out of deep respect no doubt, my companions fell upon the bodies like ravenous scavengers.
It didn’t take long for our enemies to catch up with us, trapped in the throne room as we were. I soon heard them playing with the locks on the door. Several of them soon crowded around the door, trying to open it. I’m sure the others saw the smile on my face as they finally swung the doors outward…just to see me standing there…with my blunderbuss. The first witchhunter went down, torn to shreds. The others received various and sundry wounds. Mr. Peabody suffered for his looming frame and caught much of the blast. The fight was on. It did not last long. These witchhunters did not match the talent of the last ones we fought. They soon dropped, leaving us face to face with the Ogre bodyguard. The poor oaf was no match for our blades, arrows, and magics. I once wondered if it would be worth it to hire him as my bodyguard. I am quite glad, now, that I did not waste my gold. His ex-employer, the wheelchair-ridden feeble old man Hinterhalt lasted longer.
Elizabeth and her remaining hounds and hunters decided that it was best not to test us any further. Perhaps she had put too much faith in the ogre and her chaos overlords and not enough in our cold steel. They fled.
We soon found what was left of Artemis Bale. All that remained was his iron mask and mechanical arm. And bite marks. The mask I kept, for it would serve me well once I return to Middenheim and take control over his guild of thieves.
As we opened the doors, a wave of heat blew past us and our eyes came upon a room split in half by a crevice that fell hundreds of feet and at its bottom a river of lava. I had not realized how far into the earth we had descended these last couple of days. Across the chasm stretched a bridge of rotting wood. Beyond it a golden statue, carved into a likeness of a creature out of fables and legends. A dragon.
We had just managed to cross the bridge, though we almost lost Katanya to the fiery river below. As the rest of my companions searched for loot and a secret door that we knew must exist, Elizabeth found me once again. A pity that we couldn’t work together. But once she burned off Katianas’s arm with fiery acid from her mouth, it was quite clear to me that her loyalties lay with those forces with witch I have no loyalty. Chaos. I am many things, but a lapdog of the abyss I shall never be. Once again, Elizabeth proved her skill in treachery, but also her ignorance of battle. With minions trapped on one side of the now ruined bridge (never throw a dwarf. Halflings, yes, dwarves…no) their crossbows were no match for elven archery or Hugo’s sling. Or my blunderbuss. The died as they stood.
After Orzad and Hugo finished their looting of the golden dragon, they got around to finding a passage way that lead out into a great cave that split into two curving paths, separately by a giant stalagmite. As we began to tromp our way through the caves, however, the stalagmite began to move.
Like a giant snake uncoiling from his perch, the ‘stalagmite’ brought its head around to meet mine. At that angle I saw something that I never believed existed. Something from legend and nightmare. Sigmar’s Eternal Guardian as written on the map. They might have also mentioned that it was a dragon. It seemed more concerned about us disrupting its sleep than about our presence in the Abode of Magnus. I could have talked our way out of it easily if it hadn’t smelled its treasure on Orzad! The great creature allowed us to leave once its treasure was returned to it. I guess were not what it was there to guard against. A reasonable creature all things considered.
As we quickly left the Eternal Guardian’s chambers behind and made our way down the narrow, snaking passage of stairs that followed, we began to hear a gentle lapping. Not one of us uttered a word as we made our way out of the passage into a endless cavern and the waters of a great subterranean lake. Its waters were gently washing ashore as we walked down to its edge. A strange dwarven stone boat, its sides laden with gleaming runes rested on the shore’s edge.
But we were not alone. Standing before the boat was the High Sigmaran Priest Stolz himself. I wasn’t sure if he was part of the corruption or not. I think he was even less sure of my part in it. But he wanted the Key and that was too much. I wasn’t about to give it to a man who had allowed so much corruption into his church. Who sat by while witchhunter cults of his own faith butchered so many. Neither of us were in the mood for words. I let my actions speak for me. I’ll say this, he is fast with that battering ram he calls a hammer. We both swung our weapons. We both made our targets. My blade to his crown, his hammer to mine. Only I remained standing. With him at my feet and helpless…I allowed him to live. His death did not feel right to me. I’m sure we will meet again. I hope it will be as allies.
As we float along huddled in this bizarre boat, I hurry to finish my accounting of our travels up to this point. It is difficult to say how long we have been traveling in this boat, which seems to move of its own accord. I can feel the power of its runes grow stronger as we drift father into the dark horizon.
My enemies are dead or defeated. The threats to my conquests are diminished. Yet I push onward as though my ambitions are not my own. My plans to control the streets of Middenheim seem so distant to me now. Those goals that I would have gladly lied and killed to achieve, no longer guide my thoughts. Instead I look inward. In the last few days I feel as though I am no longer the man I once was, but am not sure who I have become.
I know that turning back is no longer an option. I shall enter the Unseen Library and take the Test of Magnus. I shall look upon the Tomb of the Pious and see what stares back.
I can’t help wondering how much of me will remain after our journey into oblivion.
END OF SEASON 1: FATE BOUND CAMPAIGN
I actually wrote it that way. The players were all prepared to enter the dungeon "armed" with some good knowledge of the sewers. I wanted to throw in a twist. It was pretty fitting since we had a new player joining the campaign, so everybody started "fresh". In season 2 they will find out what exactly happened to them.
They also found something VERY disturbing in the 'Unseen Library' check the image 'Return Of Magnus' over at www.2d10.org !
It was pretty fitting since we had a new player joining the campaign, so everybody started "fresh". In season 2 they will find out what exactly happened to them.They also found something VERY disturbing in the 'Unseen Library' check the image 'Return Of Magnus' over at www.2d10.org !
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
I'm a Stay-At-Home-Dad, so I have actually a lot of time to prepare and I do so. But .... this group throws me a "curve ball" all the time. I love it! 
doghead
thotd
Just had a peak at the Return of the Magnus poster. Well, whoever he is, Mr Magnus reeks of Chaos. All that talk of change. Tzeentch (if I recall correctly) would be my guess. The Changer of the Ways and Lord of Magic. It would be just like Tzeentch to convince someone the only way to stop chaos was to embrace it.
Lovely work with the posters by the way.
Lovely work with the posters by the way.
