[GRIM TALES] Warhammer 'Chronicles of the Witch Hunter'

Mallory, "Call me Rat, everyone does.", might be called pretty if someone ever explained her how to use a hairbrush. Of course a bath would be an absolute must. Most importantly though her stare is that of a crow seeing a corpse. Those who've been around her for a month can easiyl tell that she's greedy, ill-manered and can match Grimmor's language on his best day. And those are her good sides.
It would be easy to take her for some thief from the gutter but strange enough she's a decent shot with her mastercrafted hunters-longbow. Not exactly something a common peasant should posses, let alone wield with skill. If anyone asked about it she gave him a charming "That's none of your buisness." or if she was in a good mood even a "Shut up and die.".
During their training it's pretty obvious she's a coward even if she knows which end of the sword you push into the squishy parts of your opponent. Then she can fight on range on the other hand she almost could be mistaken for a real soldier, calm and efficient.
Most of the few minutes they are not worked to their death are spent using her dagger to scratch dirt from under he fingernails. Not from any desire to get clean but more to have the blade in hand and open. Of course she does not miss a chance to complain about their situation. That gets better once they get their equipment though. The moment someone hands her a real longsword her eyes gleam, mostly with greed but even with a hint of pride.
Oath, swords training. Dis is some cruel joke.
"So what, we're knights now? Who's gona believe that?"

rat in all her ... well... whatever... :

Gunther cracked a wide smile at his companions. "Well, looks like we are to be in the service of the Knights Panther, huh? I guess I finally ended up in a position my father would be proud of.", he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Gunther couldn't help but feel angry that he was being press-ganged into service. Hells, if that Witch Hunter had offered enough coin, he may have joined up for this sort of folly willingly! But, he admitted to himself, it was good to be swinging a sword again after months spent in taverns and gambling halls everywhere from Altdorf to Middenheim. Already, his body and mind were clearing of the constant alcohol buzz that served to dull his wits and weaken his constitution. Gunther's powerful arms and stong, wide shoulders were back in condition after days of long, arduous pratice. Genther had even come to respect von Kreuzzug. He had seen many an officer like him in his days as a pistoleer serving in the Grey Mountains, slaying Skaven and Bretonnians that dared enter Imperial lands. Tough, but for a purpose. He is there to tone us into fighting form, he thought, not just to belittle us.

Looking about at his companions, he consider their lot. The dwarf seems tough in a fight, and that swordsman appears downright dangerous with that strange blade. The skinny guy obviously has something driving him. He looks as though he has never handled a sword in all his days, but he sure attacks that dummy with a gleam in his eyes. As for the girl, Rat, it was hard to judge what she was up to. She could hit the targets with her huntsman's bow with ease, but seemed ill-at-ease when she had to get in close with the trainers or while sparring.

Rat

Karl Green said:

///Today, May 12th, in the 2504 year of the Empire, Middenheim///

But today something new to the day… oh sure you had to wake up before the chickens and put up with that drunk Heinrich the cook as normal, but then instead of being marched to the training fields you were taken back to your rooms and told to clean up “Ye’ll be a meetin’ someone special today”

After an hour you where brought to this side audience chamber where Martial von Kreuzzug and another man were sitting at a large table, looking at a map of the Empire stretched out upon it. The second man you have never seen before, but as soon as he glances at you with his steely-gray dead eyes, you know he is someone dangerous.

Martial von Kreuzzug orders you all to take seats around the table, and then says “This is the Lord’s High Witch-Hunter, Sir Maximillion Dieter Schmiedehammer. You have been assigned to assisting him in a most perilous of missions. I expect that each and every one of you will willingly give up their lives to make sure that Herr Hammer succeeds in this endeavor, and that you will follow his orders to the letter no matter what”

Scowling he looks at you all, the Witch-Hunter Schmiedehammer says “Well then, if ye dogs are the lot I am stuck with, then ye will have to do. I was looking for at least ten men, but I got you, so ye will be doing the work of two men each.”

"You may refer to me as either Sir, m'Lord or Witch-Hunter Hammer if you please"

Pointing down at the map, Hammer moves a finger from the city of Middenheim out into the northwestern part of the Empire “This is Dark Ward Forest, in the Duchy of Middenland. The southwester part of this land is called the County of Grey Oak, and bandits, outlaw mutants, Orcish raiders and witches have always plagued it. Those few folk that live there do so for they have nowhere else to go; some fleeing the law, others to poor or stupid to know any different. Lawful men rarely travel there without a large armed escort”

Looking at each of you individually he says “That is where we will be heading, and why you have been assigned to me. I had hoped for a squad of Imperial Cavalry (eleven men) but – circumstances – have made those forces unavailable.”

“We will be leaving in the morning. I suggest ye all get some sleep. Stores will be collected from the Provost Marshal in the morning, one week of Trail Rations for yerselves and the horses ye will be assigned. Armor and weapons will also be issued, there will be a list posted of available equipment there also.”

Sir Hammer then stands “I am afraid there will be little time for questions from ye. Just know that we are hunting down the enemies of the Empire and that through me, ye will be doing the Emperor's bidding.” Without any further ado, he marches out of the chamber.

Martial von Kreuzzug stares at his back, hate dripping in those eyes, and then returns his glare looks the party “Well at least I will be freed of your lot. Get out of my office and return to your rooms. If you survive this… well maybe you really do have what it takes to be a Knights Panther but I don't think I have much to worry about.”

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She smells weakness like some carrion-eater but in this case she can feel none. Despite the urge to tell that witch hunter exactly how much respect she's got for him Mallory holds her tongue. Somehow she's sure the hangman would be a mercy if she crosses that one. So instead she does her very best to look suitably scared (that's easy, she is... ) and respectfull.
"Yes Herr Hexenjäger Hammer."
Once they are outside and get their equipment she's back to her old self.
"Ulric's furry balls, that guy could probably scare a sylvanian landlord. Hey you!"
She holds her dagger at the blade and points the hilt and Johanes.
"You're a learned type or something aren't ya? With writing and that stuff. They made us swear that bloody oath so if we get through, we're real knights with title and all? That's just more s h i t than my old man's ox could produce in a month, the high and mighty don't make knights from the likes of us."

Johannes von Tritheim - Smart 4th

Rat said:

"...the high and mighty don't make knights from the likes of us."

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Johannes looks around, making sure that nobody is listening to them, then in a hushed voice responds "My hopeless friend, this month wasn't a total waste of time after all, since we learned what it be to be a knight. Unfortunately, I fear we won't be alive long enough to tell the tale... I suspect they wouldn't want to let us anyway."

Johannes pauses, looking at the girl in front of him, trying to gauge if she could understand... "See, being a knight is all about parade and wearing gleaming steel. You can't do that and be dead at the same time. So lets a bunch of unfortunate cretins like ourselves do the dirty work on their behalf. But heck, isn't it what always happens with commoners and aristos? Let the former toil like slaves and the latter reap the benefits..."

His last idea Johannes prefered to keep to himself "But I am no stupid peasant, and I intend to put my brilliant mind to use. Then we will see. Yes, we will see...".

Seif-al-Din

Seif still not completely comfortable with the strange language here keeps mainly to himself. He has lost some weight, as much of the food contained sausage, or some other pork products which were forbidden. He also prayed 3 times daily, and as long as the others left him alone to do his duty he would remain neutral. At least he could keep his head shaved, and his mustaches and beard trimmed here. Sure the beds were a bit short for his height, but they were at least semi clean.

Seif wiped the sweat from his brow. How could one sweat in this cold clammy place. Still it felt good to practice, and he had Thunder-Kiss back in his hands again, Moshar be praised. Surprisingly this was not so different from military training in Araby. Sure the weapons and armor were different, and they were not trained for horseback combat. But the real question is, "Is there anyone here I would be willing to die for". After a month of training the question persisted.

The short one was surprising, he was stronger than a desert deamon, and tougher than a camels foot. And once he got that barbaric axe of his he was quite frightning. I was not ready to die for him, yet maybe his skill at my side might keep us both alive.

The skinny man was interesting as well. While obviously not a warrior, there was a feeling of power about him.There is a saying in my land that a serpent in the grass can kill as surely as a lion. Maybe this man was the serpent. Though a bit distant and whiny, I have the feeling he may yet show his worth.

The other soldier, the one they called Guther looked as thought he could weild a blade with some proficiency. He seemed to be a compenant soldier, and his reactions and wit seemed to sharpen with each day. He seemed to be winning a battle with some inner deamons. Perhaps he could be a worthy companion, if he could keep that turmoil in check.

As for the woman. Surely these easterners are strange. In Araby women did not serve as soldiers,with the exception of the deadly "spear dancers". Yet this one seemed to accept this fate as not shameful. Surely her brothers must be dead to allow her to grow up so. Even as a harlot she could not expect to suceed with her charm. Still she shot her bow as well as any man I had crossed, and were it not too long to be used from horseback, I would buy one for myself. And she seemed to stranger no the blade as well. I would keep one eye on her......

.....Finally we are to leave this god-forsaken city. My prayers have been answered. The arrogant one seemed to poscess some measure of power, and I have no problem addressing him as "my lord". Moshar is the only true god, but even a god needs angels, and I had learned not to judge a scroll by its case. He did seem to poscess a degree of power, so I would follow him. Every soldier needs a commander, and after I prove my worth I'm sure he will see me as his equal.

///Morning of the 13th of May, 2501, Middenheim, Knights Panther Compound///

Early the next morning the party is awoken to grab a last breakfast at the barracks and then to head over to the Provost Marshal’s stores to draw their supplies and to be fitted with a suit of armour of choice (leather, studded leather, or chain), weapons and the rest of their gear. Horses have been saddled and are ready for them outside.

Witch-Hunter Hammer is waiting there, dressed in dark gray travelers’ clothing over his mail shirt, dark brown greatcoat and black wide-brimmed hat. He is wearing a longsword at his left side and two cavalry pistols are stuffed into his belt. His horse is a huge black stallion, that dwarfs most of your riding horses and looks like it would bite anyone who gets to near. His black leather gloves and boots complete the outfit, and seem to fit the Witch-Hunters mood perfectly.

“Well ye dogs, get mounted I an’t got all bloody day to wait fer yer lot. We have a long hard ride ahead of us.”

Quickly mounting up, the party rides out of the Knights Panther Compound and into the streets of Middenheim. The city is as you remember it - crowded, cramped, smelly and full of far too many people. But what can you expect, its walls can grow no further. Exiting through the southwestern gate just as the sun is rising, they all are blessed with an amazing view of land below the mountain that Middenheim is set within. The Witch-Hunter leads the group down the mountain side, along the Grey Wolf Road and into the Drak Ward Forest.

After riding most of the morning in silence, the Witch-Hunter pulls up near a coach way-stop, the Three Feathers, and says “We’ll get lunch here, and we can talk about what I expect of ye in the coming days”

Dismounting he calls for the stableboy who appears shortly – a fat little bugger, until you realize that it is in fact a very fat Halfling, not a boy at all – comes to gather the horses “Tops of the mornin’ tos ye all, mates. Will’ ye be a staying with us, or just stoppin’ fer a bite?” he asks

“Just for lunch, feed and water all the horses” and tosses the stablehand a shilling.

Inside, the Coach-Inn it is smoky from years of sot from the fireplace, and is mostly empty, except for a pair of poorly dressed merchants sitting in one corner, with a large smelly looking Norse bodyguard nearby. Witch-Hunter Hammer leads the group to the opposite corner and orders bread, cheese and mead for all. After the food and drink is delivered by the portly innkeeper, the Witch-Hunter looks at each of you in the eyes before starting…

“Well then, now that we be away from the city I will give ye a bit more of what is going on. I seek a – item – within the Barren Hills, a dangerous item. I don’t know its exact location but I have a good idea. Now the Barren Hills are within the domain of the Wittgenstein family. It is old and powerful and they have strong ties to the Graf's of Middenheim family that go back generations, so we must tread lightly.”

“When we get there, I will be paying a visit to her ladyship while yer band will head off into the hills and seek out this 'item'. I have – suspicions – about the family that need to be confirmed.”

“The item ye’ll be seeking is a piece of Warp-Stone, a vile and perhaps pure piece of Chaos itself. It will probably look like a black-coarse stone, a meteor. ‘Oh how will we find it in all of this Barren Hills?’ ye ask – well again I have a pretty good idea where it should be but also ye should see signs of Chaos when ye get near it – warped trees, mutant animals – that kind of thing. I have a lead-box on Lord Mallet that I will give ye that ye will place the stone in. Under no circumstances should ye handle it. If ye do I burn ye at the stake myself, understand?” his gaze coming to rest on Tritheim as he adds the last part.

After a few seconds, his gaze shifts back onto the whole of the party - much to Tritheim's relief - “When ye find the stone, deliver it to me. I'll be at the village of Wittgenhdorf, which is down below the Wittgenstein castle. There is only one Inn there, so asks the innkeeper for ‘Merchant Wasmeier’ which is the name I will be using there. I expect ye dogs there within ten days' time, after we part ways.”

“'Why am I entrusting yer lot with such and important and dangerous item' ye ask. Well, I knows I can trust ye, for the medallions that yer been wearing for the last month have left their - mark - on ye all that can be tracked by certain parties that are within my employment. Even if you take them off and throw them away today it be too late now. If ye even think about running I will track ye down too the ends of the world, torture ye worst then ye could ever image and then burn ye each at the stake. I find that those under the threat of a death sentence tend to be very loyal to those that hold the noose…”

The Witch-Hunter then sits back and takes a long pull from his mead before adding “I suppose that if ye have questions, now is the time to ask them. But do not waste my time with the frivolous, I do not have a sense of humor and do not tolerate fools long…”

Grimmor

As the band makes their way through Middenheim, Grimmor looks around. "I remember some fine brawls.. Scowling Sally, who wasn't that much of a sally if you ken what I mean, Brutus the Brute, whose jaw was like stone, Marlog the Mauler... had metal placed into his fists, the cheat..."

After listening to Max's address, Grimmor pipes up.
"Are we getting paid for this?" asks Grimmor. "And Warpstone? So we would expect other interested... parties to be after it?"

He scans the Norse bodyguard, wondering how he would be in a fistfight.

Rat

Turanil said:

Johannes looks around, making sure that nobody is listening to them, then in a hushed voice responds "My hopeless friend, this month wasn't a total waste of time after all, since we learned what it be to be a knight. Unfortunately, I fear we won't be alive long enough to tell the tale... I suspect they wouldn't want to let us anyway."

Johannes pauses, looking at the girl in front of him, trying to gauge if she could understand... "See, being a knight is all about parade and wearing gleaming steel. You can't do that and be dead at the same time. So lets a bunch of unfortunate cretins like ourselves do the dirty work on their behalf. But heck, isn't it what always happens with commoners and aristos? Let the former toil like slaves and the latter reap the benefits..."

His last idea Johannes prefered to keep to himself "But I am no stupid peasant, and I intend to put my brilliant mind to use. Then we will see. Yes, we will see...".

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"Well, that's life for ya. Still don't get why they give us the whole show to waster our life's. Bloody lot of them never had any problem wasting us without making such a show first."
She shrugs and tugs aways her dagger for a change.
"They take us for dead allrady but those foolish high and mighty typs don't know crap about surviving. Me's just sure of one thing. If we make it back somehow we can expect a damn knife in the back for our trouble. They'll never take us as bloody knights."

Inside the Three Feathers:

Still not daring to oppose the scary witch hunter Rat just mumbles to herself as she hears the happy news.
"Well ain't that bloody wonderfull. We're going to end up as mutant scum, then you'll have a reason to burn us. This so ain't my week."
At least they are getting decent food for a change and she wolfes it down with amazing speed.

Three Feathers Coach-Inn, May 13th, mid-day

Grimmor said:

After listening to Max's address, Grimmor pipes up.
"Are we getting paid for this?" asks Grimmor. "And Warpstone? So we would expect other interested... parties to be after it?"

Click to expand...

Witch-Hunter glares at Grimmor for a second and then gives him a humorless smile, saying "Ye work for the betterment of the Empire now, but ye gets some coin for yer troubles. Depends on how little you disappoint me"

"As for others looking for the stone, well it may have been sitting up in those hills for 20 years now so I don't think so. But one never knows"

Rat said:

Still not daring to oppose the scary witch hunter Rat just mumbles to herself as she hears the happy news.
"Well ain't that bloody wonderfull. We're going to end up as mutant scum, then you'll have a reason to burn us. This so ain't my week."
At least they are getting decent food for a change and she wolfes it down with amazing speed.

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Hammer glacing at Rat, but does not say anything.

Johannes von Tritheim - Smart 4th

Witch-Hunter Hammer said:

“The item ye’ll be seeking is a piece of Warp-Stone, a vile and perhaps pure piece of Chaos itself. It will probably look like a black-coarse stone, a meteor. ‘Oh how will we find it in all of this Barren Hills?’ ye ask – well again I have a pretty good idea where it should be but also ye should see signs of Chaos when ye get near it – warped trees, mutant animals – that kind of thing. I have a lead-box on Lord Mallet that I will give ye that ye will place the stone in. Under no circumstances should ye handle it. If ye do I burn ye at the stake myself, understand?”

“When ye find the stone, deliver it to me."

“I suppose that if ye have questions, now is the time to ask them."

Click to expand...

Johannes is a little nervous. He fears that other ears than theirs could listen. Halflings innkeepers have a bad habit of spending their time speaking to everyone, and merchants are notorious for bringing all sort of gossips far away. As such, he tries to speak not too loud and asks:

"I have two questions Witch-Hunter Hammer. The first is, that I well know how dangerous a warpstone is, and that I would never put my hands on it. A lead box seems scant protection to me, and how are we supposed to take it from where it is and put it in the box, especially if that box ain't large enough? Then, what happens to us once we have brought the item back to you? I mean, about our status of condemned criminals..."


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[OOC: Damn Karl, we posted nearly at the same time!]