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grassy gnoll
Aug 27, 2006

The pawsting business is tough work.
The late summer night is only just now cooling from the heat of the day, and the light of the moons above is not doing much to improve the scenery. Goswin paddles and pushes hard to get up-river, while the rest of the erstwhile group of adventurers are crammed into the little boat like rats in a sewer pipe. Still, it beats walking up the long, long road - you'd never have made it this far in a day's foot march.

The road up to Pinsdorf follows the river, for the most part. The locals dredged and filled and slashed out the riverbank so that it wouldn't be necessary to, say, paddle against the flow of the river just to get back to town. Crickets abound, along with the occasional hooting owl or croaking crow off in the wilderness. At least the sun is no longer burning your flesh.

The moonlight above reveals what looked to be a formless lump of garbage off in the distance is actually a crashed carriage on the road. It looks like the thing jackknifed, and the horses either fled or died on their posts, because it doesn't seem like anything's moving over that way. It's hard to tell how long the wreck's been here without taking a closer look.

Of course, you could also keep out in the middle of the river and not voluntarily march yourselves over to a suspicious ambush spot as the night grows deeper and more menacing, out here in the wilderness.

Please post your character sheets in your first post. If and how you choose to investigate the wrecked carriage is up to you, or you can keep on with your dogsbody rowing you up to your destination.

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grassy gnoll
Aug 27, 2006

The pawsting business is tough work.
Just in case I need an info post.

JackMann
Aug 11, 2010

Secure. Contain. Protect.
Fallen Rib
pre:
Name: Goswin Köhler
Race: Human
Career: Boatman
Height: 5'6
Weight: 130 lbs
Hair: Light Brown
Eyes: Grey Blue
Distinguishing Marks: Ruddy faced
Age: 16
Siblings: 2
Starsign: The Greased Coat
Birthplace: Talabecland, Arable Farm

Character Profile
Primary   : | WS | BS | S  | T  | AG | INT | WP | FEL|
Starting  : | 36 | 36 | 37 | 28 | 28 | 25  | 31 | 30 |
Advances  : | 10 | 05 | 05 | 05 | 10 | 05  | 00 | 00 |
Taken     : | 10 | 05 | 05 | 05 | 10 | 05  | 00 | 00 |
Current  :  | 46 | 41 | 42 | 33 | 38 | 30  | 31 | 30 |

Secondary : | A  | W  | SB | TB | M  | MAG | IP | FP |
Starting  : | 1  | 13 | 4  | 3  | 4  | 0   | 0  | 3  |
Advances  : | -  | 2  | -  | -  | -  | -   | -  | -  |
Taken     : | -  | 1  | -  | -  | -  | -   | -  | -  |
Current   : | 1  | 14 | 4  | 3  | 4  | 0   | 0  | 3  |

Skills:
Common Knowledge (The Empire)
Common Knowledge (Kislev)
Consume Alcohol
Gossip
Navigation
Outdoor Survival
Perception
Row
Sail
Secret Language (Ranger)
Speak Language (Reikspiel)
Swim

Talents:
Acute Listening
Orientation
Seasoned Traveler
Warrior Born

Trappings: 
Backpack with blanket
Common clothing
Dagger
Light Armour (Leather Jack)
Rowboat
Sword 
Tattered cloak
Wooden cutlery set
Wooden tankard
12 gc

Goswin begins moving the boat to the riverside. "Could be some sort'n clue there. Gonna give it a look. Better'n getting surprised in the village, I reckon. Be ready t' beach the boat so's it don't go off without us."

JackMann fucked around with this message at 04:07 on Oct 15, 2017

John Dyne
Jul 3, 2005

Well, fuck. Really?

Nagaw Hagaw

The slayer squints at the shoreline, climbing to his feet and dropping his book. "I don' like the looks of this, lad. You lot stay back a few steps." With that, Nagaw grabs his axe and hops off of the boat onto the shore, glancing around cautiously as he approaches the ruins of the carriage; the dwarf had seen a lot of death and destruction in his days, and if this was a fight or a slaughter, he'd surely know it.

pre:
Name: Nagaw Hagaw
Race: Dwarf
Career: Mutant Slayer

Character Profile
Primary   : | WS | BS | S  | T  | AG | INT | WP | FEL|
Starting  : | 41 | 31 | 31 | 46 | 16 | 28  | 26 | 20 |
Advances  : | 10 | 00 | 05 | 05 | 05 |  0  | 10 | 00 |
Taken     : | 10  | 00 | 05 | 05 | 00 | 00 | 05 | 00 |
Current  :  | 51 | 31 | 36 | 51 | 16 | 28  | 31 | 20 |

Secondary : | A  | W  | SB | TB | M  | MAG | IP | FP |
Starting  : | 1  | 12  | 3  | 5  | 0  | 0   | 0  | 3 |
Advances  : | 1  | 3   | -  | -  | -  | -   | -  | - |
Taken     : | 1  | 3 | -  | -  | -  | -   | 0  | -  |
Current   : | 2  | 15 | X  | X  | X  | 0   | 0  | 3  |

Skills:
Common Knowledge (Dwarves)
Consume Alcohol
Dodge Blow
Intimidate
Speak Language (Khazalid, Reikspiel)
Trade (Stoneworker)


Talents:
Dwarfcraft
Grudge-born Fury (+5% on tests vs Orcs, Goblins, Hobgoblins)
Hardy (+1 wound)
Night Vision
Resistance to Magic
Stout Hearted (+10 on Fear, Terror, and resist Intimidation)
Sturdy (No penalty for armor)
Specialist Weapon Group (Two-Handed)
Street Fighter (+10 to unarmed combat, +1 damage)
Strike Mighty Blow (+1 damage on melee)
Quick Draw
Very Resilient (+5 Toughness)

Armor: Light Armor (Leather Jack)

Weapons:

Trappings: 
Great Weapon
Leather Jack
Bottle of Poor Craftsmanship Spirits
Common clothing
Dagger
Backpack
Blanket
Tankard
Cutlery
Hand weapon (sword)


Career Exits:  Giant Slayer

Advances:
+1 Attack (Free)
+5 WS (Free)
+5 WS (Free)
+5 Toughness (Free)
+1 Wound
+1 Wound
+1 Wound
+5 Str
+5 WP

John Dyne fucked around with this message at 17:48 on Oct 14, 2017

grassy gnoll
Aug 27, 2006

The pawsting business is tough work.
Crash Scene

The carriage is not exactly the best constructed thing to a dwarf's eyes, but what wrought of men's hands is? It's tipped on its side, and looks to have skidded a ways in its crash. The draft animals are no longer attached to it, for whatever reason. It's hard to tell in the darkness and at a slightly distance what caused the wreck, but at the very least, it doesn't look like it's about to crush you or explode or whatnot.

Further information may be gleaned with a Perception test.

John Dyne
Jul 3, 2005

Well, fuck. Really?
Nagaw Perception vs 28: 1d100 94

I don't see poo poo.

chin up everything sucks
Jan 29, 2012

Murrie Sweettooth, Halfling Embalmer

"Any sign of bodies there?" Murrie asks as he carelessly follows Nagaw onto the shore and takes a brief look around, shaking a bit of mud off of his boots as he stomps over.

Perception vs 31: 1d100 91

pre:
Name: Murrie Sweettooth
Race: Halfling
Career: Embalmer
Height: 3'8"
Weight: 100
Hair: Red
Eyes: Brown
Distinguishing Marks: Missing Digit
Age: 35
Siblings: 4
Starsign: Gnuthus the Ox
Birthplace: The Moot

Character Profile
Primary   : | WS | BS | S  | T  | AG | INT | WP | FEL|
Starting  : | 20 | 41 | 22 | 21 | 42 | 31  | 31 | 43 |
Advances  : | 00 | 00 | 05 | 05 | 00 | 15  | 10 | 05 |
Taken     : | 00 | 00 | 00 | 05 | 00 | 00  | 10 | 00 |
Current  :  | 20 | 41 | 22 | 26 | 42 | 31  | 41 | 43 |

Secondary : | A  | W  | SB | TB | M  | MAG | IP | FP |
Starting  : | 1  | 08 | 2  | 2  | 4  | 0   | 0  | 2  |
Advances  : | 0  | 02 | -  | -  | -  | 0   | -  | -  |
Taken     : | 0  | 00 | -  | -  | -  | -   | 0  | -  |
Current   : | 1  | 08 | 2  | 2  | 4  | 0   | 0  | 2  |

Skills:
Academic Knowledge (Genealogy)
Academic Knowledge (Heraldry)
Academic Knowledge (Necromancy)
Academic Knowledge (Science)
Common Knowledge (Halflings)
Evaluate
Gossip
Haggle
Heal
Perception
Read/Write
Sleight of Hand
Speak Language (Classical)
Speak Language (Halfling)
Speak Language (Reikspeil)
Trade (Apothecary)
Trade (Cook)

Talents:
Dealmaker
Night Vision
Resistance to Chaos
Resistance to Disease
Specialist Weapon Group (Sling)
Sturdy
Surgery

Trappings: 
Abacus
Ether-soaked apron
Spare hand
Trade Tools (Barber Surgeon)
Writing Kit
common clothing consisting of a shirt, breeches, and worn boots
a tattered cloak
a dagger tucked in a boot or belt
a sling bag or a backpack containing a blanket
a wooden tankard
a wooden cutlery set
a hand weapon (axe, club, sword, etc.)
a purse holding 10 Gold Crowns (gc)

thatbastardken
Apr 23, 2010

A contract signed by a minor is not binding!
Sinfonie Schädeldieb

Sinfonie steps ashore with relative ease compared to her shorter companions, taking the opportunity to stretch a kink out of her back that's been developing all day. She stays a little way back from the carriage but runs a wary eye over the crash scene.

Perception TN 34: 1d100 30

Something looks out of place.

pre:
Name: Sinfonie Schädeldieb
Race: Human
Career: Graverobber
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 130
Hair: Blonde
Eyes: Black
Distinguishing Marks: Missing Digit
Age: 21
Siblings: 3
Starsign: The Broken Cart
Birthplace: Hochland, City

Character Profile
Primary   : | WS | BS | S  | T  | AG | INT | WP | FEL|
Starting  : | 38 | 31 | 28 | 33 | 32 | 34  | 33 | 36 |
Advances  : | 05 | 05 | 05 | 00 | 10 | 00  | 10 | 05 |
Taken     : | 05 | 05 | 05 | 00 | 10 | 00  | 10 | 05 |
Current  :  | 43 | 36 | 33 | 33 | 42 | 34  | 43 | 41 |

Secondary : | A  | W  | SB | TB | M  | MAG | IP | FP |
Starting  : | 1  | 12 | 2  | 3  | 4  | 0   | 0  | 3  |
Advances  : | 0  | 02 | -  | -  | -  | 0   | -  | -  |
Taken     : | 0  | 01 | -  | -  | -  | -   | 0  | -  |
Current   : | 1  | 13 | 3  | 3  | 4  | 0   | 0  | 3  |

Skills:
Common Knowledge (the Empire)
Drive
Gossip +10
Perception
Scale Sheer Surface
Search
Secret Signs (Thief)
Silent Move
Speak Language (Reikspiel)

Talents:
Flee!
Resistance to Disease
Resistance to Magic
Sixth Sense
Strong-minded

Trappings: 
Lantern
Lamp Oil
Pick 
Sack
Spade
10 Yards hemp rope
common clothing consisting of a shirt, breeches, and worn boots
a tattered cloak
a dagger tucked in a boot or belt
a sling bag containing a blanket
a wooden tankard
a wooden cutlery set
a hand weapon (club)
a purse holding 2d10 Gold Crowns (gc)Starting Gold: 2d10 8

XP: 500/500

thatbastardken fucked around with this message at 07:28 on Nov 27, 2017

Mors Rattus
Oct 25, 2007

FATAL & Friends
Walls of Text
#1 Builder
2014-2018

Finn Thorrveksson

Finn stays behind Nagaw - perhaps wisely, given the Slayer is easily the best of them at handling danger - but it keeps him from noticing anything special.

43 vs a 40 Int.

quote:

WS: 43, BS: 23, S: 39, T: 49, Ag 21, Int 45, WP 47, Fel 30
A 1, W: 13, SB 3, TB 4, M 3, Mag 1, IP 0, FP 2

Advances: WS 5/5%, BS -, S 5/5%, T -, Ag -, Int 5/10%, WP 15/15%, Fel -
A -, W 2/2, SB -, TB -, M -, Mag 1/1, IP -, FP -

Skills: Academic Knowledge (Runes), Common Knowledge (Dwarfs), Evaluate, Perception, Read/Write, Runecraft, Speak Arcane Language (Arcane Dwarf), Speak Language (Khazalid), Speak Language (Reikspiel, Trade (Smith) (+10%), Trade (Weaponsmith)
Talents: Dwarfcraft, Grudge-born Fury, Night Vision, Resistance to Magic, Rune (Rune of Striking, Rune of Stone), Stout-Hearted, Sturdy

Trappings: Common clothing, medium armor (leather jack, mail shirt), tattered cloak, dagger on belt, bakcpack (blanket, tankard, wooden cutlery), hand weapon (axe), trade tools (runesmith), purse (14 gc)

Career Exits: Journeyman Runesmith, Runebearer, Scholar, Scribe, Shieldbreaker

Mors Rattus fucked around with this message at 23:28 on Oct 14, 2017

grassy gnoll
Aug 27, 2006

The pawsting business is tough work.
Crash Scene

To Nagaw and Finn, the carriage is a bizarre and foolish device constructed out of substandard materials. To Murrie, it's confusing that you would ever want your pine box to move once you've gotten into it. Sinfonie, however, is a little more practiced in the ways of humans, and is aware that the typical end purpose of a carriage is not to crash, but to go from place to place.

Someone's cut the reins and dragged the horses away. There's no sign of a coachman, or any useful things inside the threadbare interior. One of the front wheels collapsed, but whether it's an accident or by design, the grave robber can't quite tell. There is a good deal of dark, sticky earth underneath the carriage, which is probably spilled blood settled into the dust of the road. There's an awful lot of it, and it all seems to be on the outside of the coach, so it could well just be an injured horse. One hopes.

Sinfonie does find strange tracks around the cart, but it's not clear to her where they're coming from or headed toward. It is certain, however, that they are not in the demi-human mode - wrong size, wrong shape, wrong number of toes.

chin up everything sucks
Jan 29, 2012

JackMann posted:

Goswin pulls the boat up above the waterline and makes sure it won't slide back into the river. That done, he comes up behind the others. "Some bad run o' luck 'ere, I reckon. See, this is why I like a boat I can steer myself. No havin' to worry 'bout horse tryin' to kill hisself. Just you an' the oars." He keeps an ear open, but isn't especially attentive. "What do you gents figure? Keep goin' by river, or scout out b'road? I'm keen on th'river, but I'll admit anyone'll see us comin' pretty easy. Not that I'm scurred, o' course, but, y'know, pick our fights."

JackMann is having issues posting on airport wifi, asked me to post this for him

grassy gnoll
Aug 27, 2006

The pawsting business is tough work.
There's not much more information to be gleaned from the carriage, unless you approach it with a specific investigatory thrust.

Unless I hear otherwise, the party will continue to the town tomorrow.

thatbastardken
Apr 23, 2010

A contract signed by a minor is not binding!
Sinfonie Schädeldieb

With no immediate danger apparent Sinfonie walks up to the carriage to inspect it for marks that might have been left by criminals to mark it as a target, or as protected by some organized crime group:

No roll is necessary if the signs are obvious, but if they are damaged/hidden then...

Secret Signs (Thief) TN 34: 1d100 90


And follows up by double checking for loose change that may have fallen between the seats:

Search TN 34: 1d100 77

without heavy bonuses thats no deal.


before returning to the boat.

John Dyne
Jul 3, 2005

Well, fuck. Really?
Nagaw Hagaw

Nagaw lowers his axe as he sees nothing is waiting in ambush for them at the moment, and takes a cursory glance at the scene. Something made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end about all of this, and he strokes his beard in thought. "Somethin' about all this vexes me.. it ain't all linin' up right and pretty."

He squats down, running his fingers along the blood on the side of the carriage and rubbing it between his fingers. It was still tacky, so it was relatively fresh. He brushes the blood off on his pants leg as he stands up and looks out into the forest, his brow furrowed. "Ain't any bodies. Horses was cut free. So maybe someone rode off on 'em, but where's the hoofprints?"

"Anyone recognize these prints, then? Don't much look like greenskins to me, but I never much tracked 'em or paid attention to their feet."

grassy gnoll
Aug 27, 2006

The pawsting business is tough work.
Pinsdorf Approach

Apparently no one can puzzle out the tracks. Lacking any better options, the party gets together and heads up the final stretch of road to Pinsdorf. It's the dead middle of the night when you reach the outskirts of town, which makes two things extremely odd. One, there's a cheery red glow radiating above the canopy around town, which you would not typically expect lights and torches at this time of night. Second, there is considerable clamor coming from the mine uphill from town, as if the townsfolk were busying themselves with some midnight prospecting. Your reverie is interupted somewhat by a rumbling beneath your feet, and a cough of smoke briefly obscuring the stars up at the mineshaft.

How do you make your approach?

JackMann
Aug 11, 2010

Secure. Contain. Protect.
Fallen Rib
Goswin picked up a small box from the rowboat and put it in his backpack. He had a delivery to make. The sooner it was in someone's hands, the sooner he could be on his way. He gave it a surreptitious shake, wondering what was inside it. He resolved to give it a look if the recipient were dead. He'd return it, of course, he had a reputation to maintain, but he couldn't help a certain amount of curiosity.

"Morr's balls!" he curses as the ground shakes. "What t'hell is this? It ain't natural for t'ground to move. I get enough of that from t'river." He looks at the strange light of the village. "I say we go to the village first. That's where my business is. Get a good look at what's goin' on, then we can see about gettin' it sorted. Or we can just head out. I'm paid t'deliver this box, not to go chasin' weird lights."

thatbastardken
Apr 23, 2010

A contract signed by a minor is not binding!
Sinfonie Schädeldieb

Sinfonie shakes her head at Goswin's question.

"I don't know what that was, but it sounds bad. If no ore has been coming out of the town, then who's been mining? We should be careful"

She checks her trusty club is ready to go and looks nervously at the path to the village.

John Dyne
Jul 3, 2005

Well, fuck. Really?
Nagaw Hagaw

During the trek to the town, Nagaw keeps his eye on the forest around them, glowering at the invisible threats that lurk in the shadows of the trees. He hums an old drinking song to himself under his breath as he walks, keeping in front of the others with his axe on his shoulder. When the glow over the town is finally visible, he narrows his eye and frowns. He's about to speak when the earth rumbles beneath him, and he gives Finn a glance.

"Either that was an earthquake, or something's blowing up in that mine. But that..." He points towards the town, still frowning. ".. looks like a burnin' village to me." He sighs, slinging his axe from his shoulder. "And where there's a burnin' village, there's pillagers burnin' a village. Pick up yer feet, lads and lasses!" Nagaw starts off on a trot towards the town, his frown turning into a faint grin at the prospect of finally getting a fight and helping some poor people out.

chin up everything sucks
Jan 29, 2012

Murrie Sweettooth

"Oh good, so not everyone is dead. That certainly makes things easier," Murrie mumbles somewhat louder than he thought he did as he tries to keep up with the longer legs of the Slayer. "I hope that isn't a coal mine on fire..."

Mors Rattus
Oct 25, 2007

FATAL & Friends
Walls of Text
#1 Builder
2014-2018

Finn

"Stone and earth live, friend. You just hope they sleep. When the earth moves of its own, people die."

Mine collapse is nothing for a dwarf to joke about, after all.

"I don't like the smell of this. Weapons out - and stay behind the Slayer. This stinks to me - like rats underground."

grassy gnoll
Aug 27, 2006

The pawsting business is tough work.
Pinsdorf Streets

Pinsdorf is normally nestled into the elbow of the nameless little river that flows by the town. The foothills of the Middle Mountains and the mighty trees of forest provide the raw materials that traders exchange for foodstuffs and the finer things in life, which in Hochland tends to be a good rifle or a strong cider. In better times, you might have found a friendly poacher willing to share some of his venison with you, for a small price.

Not so much these days. The wooden walls of the town, wrapped across its dryer border, have been breached. Broken logs splay like teeth from earthen gums. More alarming is the holes in the walls were clearly punched through from the inside. Trampled, dirty paths stream out of those gaps, into the woods.

Inside the walls, the town has seen better days. Debris litters the ground, windows are smashed and cobblestones uprooted, while clumps of burning lumber and furniture are stacked at random in the streets, as if someone got partway through building a barricade before they gave up and torched their supplies. Some buildings smolder, too, their embers glowing cheerfully inside the firebreaks of other torn-down structures.

Another rumble comes from under the ground. Faint sounds of activity come from the north, along with most of the dull red glow lighting up the skyline. The road to the mines is also north of town.

Passing through the broken walls, you've found yourselves hunkering in a back alley on the south side of town. You can see a few major landmarks. To the north, you can see the steeple of the town church, a building of simple and strong masonry in a city of timber. Nearby are a stretch of houses you could duck into to gain concealment while you made further plans. Curiously untouched by whatever violence has marked Pinsdorf, a small bank unaffiliated with the Credit Imperial is across the street from your current position. Finally, up at the mouth of the alley is, judging from the smells of urine and rotting food back here, a pub. There might be supplies inside, if the place hasn't been thoroughly looted in whatever's happened.

You could visit any of these places, or if you're Nagaw, march straight into the lion's den further north.

JackMann
Aug 11, 2010

Secure. Contain. Protect.
Fallen Rib
Goswin spits as he sees the wreckage of the town. He'd seen a few raided villages in his time (usually floating by quietly, trying to avoid attention), but this was something strange. "This is a hell of a lot more'n some poxy rats. Heh, unless you think t'skaven have come t'eat naughty kids. Barbarians, maybe? Or bandits? Only I can't figure why the bank ain't hit. Wouldn't whoever done this want t'gold?" He scratches his head. "Maybe we ought t'check the inn, see if anyone's hidin' there. Or I guess we could just head north an' see what's makin' the ruckus direct-like."

He tries to listen out, but doesn't hear poo poo.

JackMann fucked around with this message at 04:59 on Aug 31, 2017

thatbastardken
Apr 23, 2010

A contract signed by a minor is not binding!
Sinfonie Schädeldieb

Rattled by the scene of devastation, Sinfonie swears under her breath.

"poo poo and blood, what a mess. Where the hell is everyone?"

She moves around cautiously, casting her eyes about for clues as to what happened to the townsfolk. Hoping that maybe they won't need to go all the way to the mine find a witness.

"Hey, can we check this place out before we go further? There might be...survivors, or something."

John Dyne
Jul 3, 2005

Well, fuck. Really?
Nagaw Hagaw

Nagaw nods to Sinfonie, shouldering his axe once more as he walks through the side alley. "There's a tavern up this way. If there's survivors, they may be there." He pauses a moment, scratching at his beard. "Also might be the pillagers carousin' in the looted pub, too. Either way, I'm happy."

JackMann
Aug 11, 2010

Secure. Contain. Protect.
Fallen Rib
"Inn it is, then," Goswin said, secretly relieved not to be going straight into whatever was in the north. Not that he was afraid. Not one bit. He just felt like going to the inn, was all. After all, if the slayer wanted to go there, it must be the adventurous choice.

He started straight off down the alley towards the inn, cutlass in hand. He was ready for whatever sort of dangers might lurk.

grassy gnoll
Aug 27, 2006

The pawsting business is tough work.
Eel's Head Tavern

You sneak into the back entrance of the pub with little fanfare. Someone's left the door unlocked. The kitchen is as grotesque as good housekeeping standards would require, with a gruesome display of salted meats hung here and there, among the stacked up wooden plates covered in fainly-turned old food. Emerging behind the bar, you see a rather typical Hochlander tavern - lots of deer heads on the wall, lots of wooden truss construction, lots of hand-carved tankards littered about the place. It is slightly askew, in that someone has piled up most of the furniture against the door, and crudely tacked tabletops over the front windows.

Silhouetted against the hearth, the only light source in the room, is a hunched figure in a hood. They don't seem to have noticed your entrance.

John Dyne
Jul 3, 2005

Well, fuck. Really?
Nagaw Hagaw

For the moment, the group had been able to enter the tavern unnoticed. They had the element of surprise and stealth at their disposal.

Nagaw of course ruins this by cupping a hand by his mouth and yelling at the person lurking by the hearth.

"Oi, you! By the fireplace! We're here ta help the town! Take off yer hood and let us get a look atcha!"

JackMann
Aug 11, 2010

Secure. Contain. Protect.
Fallen Rib
"Uh, yeah! What he said," Goswin says, holding his sword in front of him. He moves to Nagaw's side so to keep the frailer members of the party safe. Which is to say the halfling.

grassy gnoll
Aug 27, 2006

The pawsting business is tough work.
Eel's Head Tavern

The cloak whirls, and there is a terrible cacophony and searing light. When your senses return, Nagaw's mohawk is very fractionally shorter and smoking gently. The figure freezes in the middle of pulling a second pistol out of its brace, but settles for returning both their weapons to their holsters.

At first, it seems like you have found an improbably tall dwarf. Her accent, however, places her as a certain citizen of the Empire, from one of the local environs - no dwari would ever dishonor their ancestors by sporting such a ridiculous accent.

"Ulric's balls, you idiots nearly scared the life out of me! Make more noise, next time you sneak up on someone."

Premature marksmanship aside, it does not appear that she wants to kill you. None of this solves the riddle of why this strange, heavily-armed person is camped out in a barricaded bar in the middle of a sacked township, however.

John Dyne
Jul 3, 2005

Well, fuck. Really?
Nagaw Hagaw

The dwarf lowers his axe to the floor, reaching up and touching the top of his mohawk. He looks at the residue from the burnt hair and pig fat and rubs it between his fingers, before laughing and shaking his head. "You manlings and your flintlocks! Yer makin' yer guns too drat small." Nagaw rests his axe back onto his shoulder and strides forward, his hand extended.

"Nagaw Hagaw, at yer service. What are ye, some sorta witch hunter?"

thatbastardken
Apr 23, 2010

A contract signed by a minor is not binding!
Sinfonie Schädeldieb

"Sigmar's Hairs!"

Sinfonie yells and dives for the ground as the ball that whistles over Nagaw's head nearly catches her instead. She stands up and dusts herself off a little sheepishly before going into the inn.

"Uh...yes, greetings And apologies for startling you. Are you a resident here? Do you know what happened?"

Gossip TN 51: 1d100 43

She winces when Nagaw mentions witch hunters, that memory is a little too raw.

That accent sounds distinctive...can Sinfonie place it?

Common Knowledge (Empire) TN 34: 1d100 18

maybe!

grassy gnoll
Aug 27, 2006

The pawsting business is tough work.
Eel's Head Tavern

The skulking gunner looks at the lot of you like you've grown a third eye, except for Murrie, who as a halfling clearly cannot be a mutant.

"No, not a witch hunter. Just the regular kind. I go by Bianca," she says by way of introducing herself to the dwarf she nearly shot in the head.

She gives Sinfonie a substantially harder appraisal. "And I can show you what the problem is," she says. "Come here."

Bianca leads the grave robber over to a richly-decorated wheellock rifle propped by one of the boarded-up windows. It has a curious tube on the top of it, which the short woman looks through as she shoulders the gun. She steps out from behind the firearm once she's got it in place, holding it up for anyone who wants to take a look in the tube.

Anyone who looks through said tube finds that it is a spyglass, like a sea captain or astrologer would possess. Through it, the short firearms enthusiast has found a slim line of sight one can draw through a few buildings, giving a view of the doors of the town church. The Imperial citizens among you see that some strange prankster has dressed a few children in rather gruesome, anatomically-correct rat masks, given them polearms and filthy, rusty armor, and told them to stand guard at the church doors. Everyone else sees skaven.

Ken Eyes Only: Bianca's stubby fingers play along your shoulder as she leads you over to the spyglass-gun. It's a recognition code, identifying one thief to another, followed by an interrogative suffix. Presumably she's asking you what illicit business you're up to in her territory.

Her accent is Hochlandish in the extreme. If she was running a stall offering you seared deer meat at a festival, you wouldn't give her a second glance.

John Dyne
Jul 3, 2005

Well, fuck. Really?
Nagaw Hagaw

The slayer is both visibly excited and agitated after looking through the spyglass, taking a step back and stroking his beard in thought. "By Grimnir's beard, it's the thaggoraki." He casts Finn a hard look before turning back to Bianca. "Lass, what are they doin' out here? How long have they been here?" He looks back out the window at the church, spinning the haft of his axe to twirl the head of it. "Bugrit.. they're the ones settin' off explosions in the mine, ain't they.."

thatbastardken
Apr 23, 2010

A contract signed by a minor is not binding!
Sinfonie Schädeldieb

Taking her turn at the spyglass, Sinfonie then looks at Bianca to see if there's any hint this is a strange village wide prank. She looks serious, and Nagaw seems to know something about this.

"Thagg-what? Are they some kind of...small beastmen?"

Secret Signs (Thief) TN 34: 1d100 16

Sinfonie is able to spell out a small message in reply:

"On Legitimate Business, Not Breaching Territory. Can I Assist You?"

grassy gnoll
Aug 27, 2006

The pawsting business is tough work.
Eel's Head Tavern

Bianca nods, a grim expression on her broad face.

"Couldn't tell you how long they've been here, but more than long enough, by all accounts. I expect you're right, though - they keep some of the folk in the church, and march some of them back and forth to the hills."

KEO: A wave of the hand and a particular set of percussive elements on the window frame as you peer through the glass. "No. Danger here, not profitable."

grassy gnoll fucked around with this message at 07:26 on Sep 1, 2017

JackMann
Aug 11, 2010

Secure. Contain. Protect.
Fallen Rib
Goswin shakes his head dismissively. "Naw, those is just some weird costumes on, like, kids or halflings or somethin'. Some sorta cult, maybe?" He grips his sword a little tighter. No matter how dismissive he might sound, the little buggers creeped him right out.

Mors Rattus
Oct 25, 2007

FATAL & Friends
Walls of Text
#1 Builder
2014-2018

Finn

"Thaggoraki...worse than beastmen. Rats underground." Finn's lip curls scornfully. "Poisoners. Mine-collapsers. They're vermin, and they breed like it. No wonder everyone's gone - captured as slaves. They probably tunneled in through the mine. The good news is, a single one of them is nothing to kill. The bad news - there is never just one. For every one you see, there are ten more hidden down a tunnel...and some of those might be clever."

Finn taps his axe.

"Nothing for it but to find a way to kill as many as we can and drive the stinking cowards back into hiding. This won't be easy."

chin up everything sucks
Jan 29, 2012

Murrie Sweettooth

"Rat creatures from underground? I read a story about them once. Terrible penny-dreadful, barely worth the penny I spent on it..." Murrie mumbles after taking a look through the glass. He looks disturbed for someone who normally spends his time butchering the dead (and occasionally the living). "I don't think I'm properly equipped to help out with this kind of situation."

thatbastardken
Apr 23, 2010

A contract signed by a minor is not binding!
Sinfonie Schädeldieb

Sinfonie sighs in resignation and takes another look through the spyglass.

"Well, I don't think we can go back to the burghers of Hergig and say 'ratmen killed everyone' and not get laughed out of town. I suppose we'll have to try to rescue some of the townsfolk. Bianca, have you got any kind of head count? What are there response times like?"

She pauses mid sentence.

"Are they likely to investigate the sound of your shot?"

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John Dyne
Jul 3, 2005

Well, fuck. Really?
Nagaw Hagaw

Nagaw nods to Finn, moving back towards the door as he speaks. "I think your Reikslanders call 'em skaven. Schemin', connivin', cowardly little bastards. Finn's got the right of it; there's never just the handful. They seem like an endless tide of vermin at times." He stops, turning around and resting the haft of his axe on the ground. "Wait one bloody moment, here. There's only one damned thing that brings the raki out in numbers like this."

At the mention of the skaven reacting to the gunshot, Nagaw grimaces and hefts his axe, turning back to the door. "Lass, do you know if any of the townsfolk here found any odd, green rocks? The sort which made them sick? The skaven LOVE the frurndarduraz."

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