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<blockquote data-quote="PJ-Mason" data-source="post: 2668318" data-attributes="member: 12285"><p><strong>Konrad's Journal: Teil Funf: Die Berechnung</strong></p><p></p><p>Erntezeit 1:</p><p></p><p>Ah, the start of a new month. The days on the calendar keep passing by, but it seems our situation in this city never changes. With the death of one ally comes the presence of another. The dwarven guildmaster Gimmelstock's bodyguard, Ingrid, has decided to join my little band. Though i am not particularly impressed with her bodyguarding skills, her client being dead after all, she does have excellent knowledge of the sewers, contacts, and a real desire for revenge against those responsible for her employer's death. I admire loyalty. </p><p></p><p>Ingrid's street knowledge has already served us well. It appears that Hugo, Yavindir, and myself are wanted by the watch for murder and demon worship. Murder? Of course, though we are not guilty of the murder they have charged us with. But worshipping demons? That’s silly. I worship no one at all. It is said that demonic items were found there and that our intent for murder were confirmed by the establishment’s owner, Werner. Ach, Werner, that was not very loyal...</p><p></p><p>It would appear that with the death of Watch Commander Shutzmann, the temples of Verena, Sigmar, and Ulric now share power over the city. A wise move by my enemies. The contingent of Sigmaran witchhunters that arrived last night will no doubt easily enforce their commands. However, all of this zealotry has unnerved the citizens quite a bit. The curfew that the temple's have issued has further agitated them. That could be to my advantage. The town is also quite frightened by an impending eclipse that has been prophesied by some unknown being inside the city. I had my suspicions immediately of who this prophet was, but i will speak of that later.</p><p></p><p>I am not sure if the temple of Ulric is as corrupt as those of Sigmar and Verena. Truly this blind eye they have turned to their priests behavior is proof that either the gods do not truly exist, or that they care little for their earthly reputation. However, on the off chance that the church of Ulric are just servants of the wolf god...I sent them a...gift. The head of Seven Who Are One, along with one of the amulets of the Sigmar witchhunters that we killed in the sewer. I also put in the assassin's tools and our signed paper of watch authority that Shutzmann gave us with my own note "Mystery Solved...Dieter of the Watch". That ought to make things interesting. I am quite happy that no one in this town knows my true name. It will make escaping a little easier if the next few days do not go well for us.</p><p></p><p>I had my talk with Yavindir about his familiarity with the assassin Seven-Who-Are-One. It would seem that he had hired the assassin himself for a murder for hire. I guess the abschaum lizard got a better offer. Serves Yavin right. If you want someone killed, always do it yourself. Yavin told me that is was Werner who set up the hire for him. Another mark against the man. Still, i have sat and talked with Werner and the man prides himself on keeping secrets and protecting his patrons. This does not seem like the Werner I know.</p><p></p><p>The poor Lockmeister Hinterhalt met an unfortunate end this night. Apparently the vaunted talents of Mr. Peabody mean nothing against a ignited keg of oil, dwarven white lightning, and gunpowder thrown through the front window of the old bastard's home. I hear that Dear Heinrich died fairly quickly. What a pity. Perhaps that will teach others to keep their noses, and gnobblers, out of other people's business. Perhaps i should hire Mr. Peabody to be my bodyguard, now that he is out of work? Perhaps not. He didn't much good for poor Heinrich.</p><p></p><p>Our next visit of the night was to Werner of the Last Drop. Considering that Werner not only lied to the Watch about our innocence, but he was also the contact for Yavin's murder for hire that turned sour, i thought it best to pay him a little visit. As we arrived outside the Inn, someone posted on the roof fired an arrow at us and hit Yavin quite soundly in the gut. Luckily, he has become quite the healer. Lots of practice. Though we returned fire, the assailant got away. Its anyone's guess at this point who he worked for. The sound of my Bluss brought out the patrons of the Last Drop, a good fight is worth watching around here these days. When they saw that the fight was over, and got a good look at me, they returned to their tables. That gave me an idea. I put on one of the remaining amulets of the Sigmar witchhunters and polished it up. This time the reputation of the witchhunters would work for me. I entered the Last Drop with my hood covering my face and the amulet covering my plated chest. The crowd mumbled, but dared not challenge a witchhunter in the flesh. </p><p></p><p>Once i got a look at Werner, my suspicions were confirmed. He had not willingly spoken against us. They had beat him soundly, broken his face and arm, and even taken one of his legs. An excellent piece of work. I dragged him to the back of the Inn to tell him that i did not mean him harm, but not before the men in the Inn actually challenged me. I was amazed at the loyalty his patrons had for Werner. Loyalty in the most infamous inn in Middenheim? Amazing! Unfortunately that loyalty did not survive my threats of torture and Blunderbuss fire. But still, I was most impressed. When it comes time form my own guild, i know where i shall recruit my men. Werner couldn't really tell me more than i already knew, but he seemed relieved to know that i no longer sought his head. After all, he had lost a leg and that is enough for me.</p><p></p><p>Ingrid once again proved her worth. While i had been recovering from the assassin's blade the night before, verdammt lizard, she had done some planning of her own. Knowing that we had found the vault of Magnus the Pious, she had sought out the city's greatest authority on the subject. One Hans Greibworst. Unfortunately for the good scholar, he had fallen on hard times. The poor historian is somewhat of a gambler. A very bad one at that. His gambling debts had ruined him. He now served out his debts as the personal scribe and accountant to the Black Daggers, the local Guild. The Black Daggers headquarters was a place called the Whispering Goat and, I come to find out, was run by a man named Artemis Bale. I know this man. By reputation, of course. Bale is perhaps the most famous highwayman in the empire, perhaps in all of the old world. In his last action, he had suffered some terrible wounds and was forced to retire. It seems that all people who are looking to fade away come to Middenheim. It makes me wonder who else lives here that i do not know about? </p><p></p><p>Our trip to the Whispering Goat was uneventful. Some quick whispers and furtive signing in a certain language landed us before the infamous Bale. Without our weapons. Although once again, no one checked my gloves to find the knuckle dusters hidden within them. Once i saw the man, his orc-branded guard wolves laying beside, it struck me like lightning. This was the man who had ambushed the caravan to the south. This was the man who killed everyone in that caravan with savage butchery. This was the man who taken the magical key that every high priestess and wizard lord in the city was looking for. Durch das Schicksal der Götter! When i first came to the streets of Middenheim, i had intended on finding the local thieves guild and present myself as a new player in town, out of respect. But the situations in town conspired to lure me away from that intention. I can only wonder now how much blood and sweat, and lives, i could have saved had i stubbornly followed my instincts. </p><p></p><p>I had to think fast. To challenge Bale there, in his domain, without my best weapons...would have been insanity, not boldness. Instead, i did what any other man would do in that situation. I lied. I told him that i was here to buy Hans' debts off as a favor to another person. Not exactly a lie, really. I always say, tell the truth when you are lying. When the price of 995 gold was asked, i nearly performed a very insane act. However, Yavindir, bless his greedy little soul, produced the golden frame of the picture of Magnus the Pious that we had found in Old Crazy's wagon. Hugo had wanted to give it to the Sigmar temple, but elf wouldn't hear of it. At the time i thought his greed was...distasteful. But now i am quite happy i had sided with him at the time. The frame did indeed buy Hans "contract". I was now the proud owner of a historian. </p><p></p><p>We left the Whispering Goat as quickly as possible. We took the scholar with us to meet Blocksberg at the Prospect. Here i forced him to reveal what he was truly looking for. A wizard of the stars does not yearn for magic keys. He admitted that he was searching for a book called the Eternal Tome. A powerful magic book that apparently scribes itself and speaks of prophecies and dangers. With it he could safeguard the land and its people. Such altruism makes me suspicious, but i believe that he does want that book. I have no interest in such a thing, save what it might tell me of my enemies. I am far more interested in the legends that speak of Magnus the Pious hording items of dark magic and great power that can be used to fight chaos and corrupt priests. I am very interested in such things. I have enemies that must be defeated before Middenheim is mine. He believes it to be locked away behind the Golden Doors hidden deep within the sewers. So all we needed to pierce the mystery of Magnus the Pious is the key that can unlock it all. </p><p></p><p>As we began to plan our assault on the Whispering Goat, the mousy bookmiester Hans spoke up. He had seen Artemis sell the Key to a dark figure with a crimson skull emblem. This fearsome being paid well for the key and it is obvious what that man's intention is. Such an emblem sits upon one of my secret sewer maps. </p><p></p><p>So. Once again we enter sewers in the hopes of betting our future. This time however, i feel an impending sense of foreboding as we prepare for what may be our last journey into the Pitch Black. A lord of wizardry and blind seer, a southern thug, a vagabond elf, a halfling scout, a dwarven bodyguard, and a broken down defrocked professor. I do not believe that all of us shall return. I hope i am wrong.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="PJ-Mason, post: 2668318, member: 12285"] [b]Konrad's Journal: Teil Funf: Die Berechnung[/b] Erntezeit 1: Ah, the start of a new month. The days on the calendar keep passing by, but it seems our situation in this city never changes. With the death of one ally comes the presence of another. The dwarven guildmaster Gimmelstock's bodyguard, Ingrid, has decided to join my little band. Though i am not particularly impressed with her bodyguarding skills, her client being dead after all, she does have excellent knowledge of the sewers, contacts, and a real desire for revenge against those responsible for her employer's death. I admire loyalty. Ingrid's street knowledge has already served us well. It appears that Hugo, Yavindir, and myself are wanted by the watch for murder and demon worship. Murder? Of course, though we are not guilty of the murder they have charged us with. But worshipping demons? That’s silly. I worship no one at all. It is said that demonic items were found there and that our intent for murder were confirmed by the establishment’s owner, Werner. Ach, Werner, that was not very loyal... It would appear that with the death of Watch Commander Shutzmann, the temples of Verena, Sigmar, and Ulric now share power over the city. A wise move by my enemies. The contingent of Sigmaran witchhunters that arrived last night will no doubt easily enforce their commands. However, all of this zealotry has unnerved the citizens quite a bit. The curfew that the temple's have issued has further agitated them. That could be to my advantage. The town is also quite frightened by an impending eclipse that has been prophesied by some unknown being inside the city. I had my suspicions immediately of who this prophet was, but i will speak of that later. I am not sure if the temple of Ulric is as corrupt as those of Sigmar and Verena. Truly this blind eye they have turned to their priests behavior is proof that either the gods do not truly exist, or that they care little for their earthly reputation. However, on the off chance that the church of Ulric are just servants of the wolf god...I sent them a...gift. The head of Seven Who Are One, along with one of the amulets of the Sigmar witchhunters that we killed in the sewer. I also put in the assassin's tools and our signed paper of watch authority that Shutzmann gave us with my own note "Mystery Solved...Dieter of the Watch". That ought to make things interesting. I am quite happy that no one in this town knows my true name. It will make escaping a little easier if the next few days do not go well for us. I had my talk with Yavindir about his familiarity with the assassin Seven-Who-Are-One. It would seem that he had hired the assassin himself for a murder for hire. I guess the abschaum lizard got a better offer. Serves Yavin right. If you want someone killed, always do it yourself. Yavin told me that is was Werner who set up the hire for him. Another mark against the man. Still, i have sat and talked with Werner and the man prides himself on keeping secrets and protecting his patrons. This does not seem like the Werner I know. The poor Lockmeister Hinterhalt met an unfortunate end this night. Apparently the vaunted talents of Mr. Peabody mean nothing against a ignited keg of oil, dwarven white lightning, and gunpowder thrown through the front window of the old bastard's home. I hear that Dear Heinrich died fairly quickly. What a pity. Perhaps that will teach others to keep their noses, and gnobblers, out of other people's business. Perhaps i should hire Mr. Peabody to be my bodyguard, now that he is out of work? Perhaps not. He didn't much good for poor Heinrich. Our next visit of the night was to Werner of the Last Drop. Considering that Werner not only lied to the Watch about our innocence, but he was also the contact for Yavin's murder for hire that turned sour, i thought it best to pay him a little visit. As we arrived outside the Inn, someone posted on the roof fired an arrow at us and hit Yavin quite soundly in the gut. Luckily, he has become quite the healer. Lots of practice. Though we returned fire, the assailant got away. Its anyone's guess at this point who he worked for. The sound of my Bluss brought out the patrons of the Last Drop, a good fight is worth watching around here these days. When they saw that the fight was over, and got a good look at me, they returned to their tables. That gave me an idea. I put on one of the remaining amulets of the Sigmar witchhunters and polished it up. This time the reputation of the witchhunters would work for me. I entered the Last Drop with my hood covering my face and the amulet covering my plated chest. The crowd mumbled, but dared not challenge a witchhunter in the flesh. Once i got a look at Werner, my suspicions were confirmed. He had not willingly spoken against us. They had beat him soundly, broken his face and arm, and even taken one of his legs. An excellent piece of work. I dragged him to the back of the Inn to tell him that i did not mean him harm, but not before the men in the Inn actually challenged me. I was amazed at the loyalty his patrons had for Werner. Loyalty in the most infamous inn in Middenheim? Amazing! Unfortunately that loyalty did not survive my threats of torture and Blunderbuss fire. But still, I was most impressed. When it comes time form my own guild, i know where i shall recruit my men. Werner couldn't really tell me more than i already knew, but he seemed relieved to know that i no longer sought his head. After all, he had lost a leg and that is enough for me. Ingrid once again proved her worth. While i had been recovering from the assassin's blade the night before, verdammt lizard, she had done some planning of her own. Knowing that we had found the vault of Magnus the Pious, she had sought out the city's greatest authority on the subject. One Hans Greibworst. Unfortunately for the good scholar, he had fallen on hard times. The poor historian is somewhat of a gambler. A very bad one at that. His gambling debts had ruined him. He now served out his debts as the personal scribe and accountant to the Black Daggers, the local Guild. The Black Daggers headquarters was a place called the Whispering Goat and, I come to find out, was run by a man named Artemis Bale. I know this man. By reputation, of course. Bale is perhaps the most famous highwayman in the empire, perhaps in all of the old world. In his last action, he had suffered some terrible wounds and was forced to retire. It seems that all people who are looking to fade away come to Middenheim. It makes me wonder who else lives here that i do not know about? Our trip to the Whispering Goat was uneventful. Some quick whispers and furtive signing in a certain language landed us before the infamous Bale. Without our weapons. Although once again, no one checked my gloves to find the knuckle dusters hidden within them. Once i saw the man, his orc-branded guard wolves laying beside, it struck me like lightning. This was the man who had ambushed the caravan to the south. This was the man who killed everyone in that caravan with savage butchery. This was the man who taken the magical key that every high priestess and wizard lord in the city was looking for. Durch das Schicksal der Götter! When i first came to the streets of Middenheim, i had intended on finding the local thieves guild and present myself as a new player in town, out of respect. But the situations in town conspired to lure me away from that intention. I can only wonder now how much blood and sweat, and lives, i could have saved had i stubbornly followed my instincts. I had to think fast. To challenge Bale there, in his domain, without my best weapons...would have been insanity, not boldness. Instead, i did what any other man would do in that situation. I lied. I told him that i was here to buy Hans' debts off as a favor to another person. Not exactly a lie, really. I always say, tell the truth when you are lying. When the price of 995 gold was asked, i nearly performed a very insane act. However, Yavindir, bless his greedy little soul, produced the golden frame of the picture of Magnus the Pious that we had found in Old Crazy's wagon. Hugo had wanted to give it to the Sigmar temple, but elf wouldn't hear of it. At the time i thought his greed was...distasteful. But now i am quite happy i had sided with him at the time. The frame did indeed buy Hans "contract". I was now the proud owner of a historian. We left the Whispering Goat as quickly as possible. We took the scholar with us to meet Blocksberg at the Prospect. Here i forced him to reveal what he was truly looking for. A wizard of the stars does not yearn for magic keys. He admitted that he was searching for a book called the Eternal Tome. A powerful magic book that apparently scribes itself and speaks of prophecies and dangers. With it he could safeguard the land and its people. Such altruism makes me suspicious, but i believe that he does want that book. I have no interest in such a thing, save what it might tell me of my enemies. I am far more interested in the legends that speak of Magnus the Pious hording items of dark magic and great power that can be used to fight chaos and corrupt priests. I am very interested in such things. I have enemies that must be defeated before Middenheim is mine. He believes it to be locked away behind the Golden Doors hidden deep within the sewers. So all we needed to pierce the mystery of Magnus the Pious is the key that can unlock it all. As we began to plan our assault on the Whispering Goat, the mousy bookmiester Hans spoke up. He had seen Artemis sell the Key to a dark figure with a crimson skull emblem. This fearsome being paid well for the key and it is obvious what that man's intention is. Such an emblem sits upon one of my secret sewer maps. So. Once again we enter sewers in the hopes of betting our future. This time however, i feel an impending sense of foreboding as we prepare for what may be our last journey into the Pitch Black. A lord of wizardry and blind seer, a southern thug, a vagabond elf, a halfling scout, a dwarven bodyguard, and a broken down defrocked professor. I do not believe that all of us shall return. I hope i am wrong. [/QUOTE]
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