After breakfast, Helmut led the group through the streets of Altdorf's lower wards for a few miles. The cobblestone streets were puddled with rain and crowded with the hungry and desperate. Beggars clammered for alms, shaking their lead cups and shouting, "Clink f'rus, guv'nah!" Under dark gray storm clouds, they approached a dilapidated wooden apartment building. Helmut, carrying a jingling brown sack slung over his shoulder, rapped on the door.
A panel in the door slid open to reveal a pair of shifty eyes. "State yer bizniss."
"Here for me daughter," said Helmut. "I've brought th' money."
The door unlocked, and opened, into a dark hallway lit only by the dim daylight through the front door and a window at the end of the hall. Doors along the hall were marked with simple drawings--a sword, a bed, a frowning face, a large red X. The guard, dressed in leather armor with a dark green cloak, motioned for the group to follow, and led them to a door marked with a purple sickle. Solveig and Norgrim recognized it as the symbol of a Kislevite crime syndicate, the Bears of Winter.
[sblock=Knowledge rolls]
Solveig: 1d100=28, Albrecht: 1d100=86, Norgrim: 1d100=11, Gustav: 1d100=95[/sblock]
The guard opened the door, and motioned for the group to enter. The fat man in furs, Vitaly Gorbachev, sat in a high-backed wooden chair, flanked by two orcish guards in leather tunics, holding large, pitted axes. The room smelled of fish, sweat, and cheap liquor.
"Ah, good," Gorbechav began. "De leetle innkeeper sees his mistake, and he comes to apologize. You have brought Vitaly nice present, no? Yes, good." He waved to the human guard, and the guard came back with Helmut's daughter, Daisy, in tow.
Daisy was tied up, crying, and screaming through a gag. Helmut dropped the sack of coins and ran to embrace her, but the guard held him back.
"Not so fast," chuckled Gorbechav. "Let us count de moneys first, yes?"
One of the orcs picked up the bag of coins and brought it over to Gorbechav. He began to count out gold coins from the bag in neat stacks with a heavy CLINK, CLINK, CLINK. "Fifty Karls, eh? Good for a month of protection, sure. But doesn't buy back de girl. De girl for another fifty."
Helmut lashed out at Gorbechav, but his guard held him back. "Tha' weren't th' deal, ye Kislevite bastard! Tha' bag there is all we 'ave! I swears to Sigmar, I'll--I'll--"
"You vill do vat, leetle man? Nothink is vat you vill do. You vill bring fifty more, or you vill vatch your daughter die."