The Wyldhunt Winter 2010 Campaign

Eh, our group will come up with a better campaign name later. This thread will be for the warband background and battle reports throughout this campaign. I may be the only poster among our players, but I'm still working on the other two to join TBMF and post directly.

So here we go. Damn I'm rusty on my RPG writing, but here's the initial background on my Marienburger Warband, Die Soldnerfirma von Haswell:

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The outside of the missive just had his name: Captain Wijerd Haswell

Inside was written:

Captain Haswell, gather a few of your trusted men, no more than a dozen, and head up the River Reik to Mordheim. There you will do your utmost to secure fragments of the Twin-tailed Comet that has recently brought destruction to that city. We have valid reports of these fragments bringing sufficient money to their possessors that we should not miss this opportunity to bring wealth to our cause.

According to rumor, you will find the ruins in the midst of lawlessness, and should proceed with all appropriate preparations.

This mission will continue for the better part of a year, possibly longer. Quartermaster Schultz is authorized to release initial funds for your company's outfitting - after that, you are expected to obtain enough gold from the sale of these comet fragments to sustain yourself, as well as provide profit to us.

You are not to divulge your mission nor destination to anyone - not even to Quartermaster Schultz. You may only tell your men your destination and purpose upon arrival in Ostermark - make sure you do not take any men that will turn back.

Once in Mordheim, it is possible that you will meet other Marienburgers - if so, treat with them as you would any others. The return you send back to Marienburg should be through trusted sources, and sent only to Quartermaster Schultz. We will not send any further communication to you except in person - look for our signet ring to verify the source.

Destroy this letter as soon as you have read it. Good luck, and long live Empress Margritta!

...

Wijerd knew the hand who had written the missive, and he had heard tales of Mordheim through other sources. He sighed into his wine, spoiling its bouquet. Well, if the brickheads in Altdorf were to be bested, all knew that Marienburg needed more than her current wealth. He began to tick off names in his head.

...

"Captain, we have now arrived in Bissendorf. What is this all about?" Pier was a patient man, but being dragged this far away from Marienburg without any more than his Captain's word was vexing.

Wijerd responded, "Yes, Pier - all the men are due an explanation, and now I may give it. Gather them on the boat, and I will speak to all of you."

An hour later, Wijerd began, "Men, times are dire, and time are wild. Marienburgers must strike far, and in unexpected places. We have been sent on a mission of simple plunder, to about the most Chaos-infested place south of the Sea of Claws. Men, we are going to Mordheim."

Thomas tried to keep a brave face, but his friend Wilhem blanched. Wijerd knew he couldn't keep his nephew's friend away, but also fingered his sword in case Wilhem ran. However, peer pressure prevailed, and Wilhem's feet stayed in place.

Wijerd continued, "When we get to Mordheim, we will scout a suitable camp, set up, then begin exploring the ruins. We are after fragments of the Twin-tailed Comet. You have all heard tales of this, and of what exists in Mordheim. We don't truly know what is there - all we have are rumors. We will remain on our guard at all times, work as one body, and fulfill our mission. We will sell the cometary fragments we find, sustain ourselves from the return, and send the profit back to Marienburg, in service to our Empress Margritta. Are there any questions?"

It was a testament to Wijerd's ability in picking his men that no questions were proferred. They knew as well as he that any questions could not be truly answered at this point.

...

"Orcs? Beastmen? Chaos mutants? You have allowed all of these into the borders of the Empire?" shouted Martinus at the self-named "Witch Hunter" from Ostermark. "What tomfoolery and treachery is this?"

The frightened but resolute man rejoined, "We don't have the men nor the resources to keep them out. You know the reasons why! All of your previous alliances must be forgotten, and you must join with us! We care to save humanity from these evils, and their are only two sides - ours, or death!"

Wijerd surfaced from his thoughts and finally spoke. "Good man, I am sorry to have missed your name. You are right, and we will join you. Please allow us entry to Sigmarhaven - we will help with the maintenance of the Sigmarhaven Guards, and cause no trouble here. Martinus, while I commend your honest assessment of the Ostermarker's lack of ability, you will stand down from this argument, and talk of it no more."

With a stern look at his men, Captain Wijerd led them into the ramshackle encampment, past the distrustful eyes of dirty Sigmarite fanatics, and directed the men to pitch their tents. When it looked like tensions had passed their peak, he motioned Pier and Martinus close to himself, and talked to his trusted champions in whispered, yet forceful tones. "While we are here, we are friends of humanity, of all persuasions, no matter how deluded. When we are in Mordhiem itself, we will remember and carry out our mission. Do not let lesser fights impede our eventual progress. Be sure the others all understand this - the more allies we have in this forsaken place, the better our chance to survive. Now go."

A few minutes later, Thomas came up, with his ever-present Wilhelm. "Captain, uncle, while I knew you were a brave and resourceful man, I never saw your acumen in direct action. I am in abject awe, and I am very grateful for this opportunity." Wilhelm did not look so sure - in fact, he looked absolutely unnerved. Wijerd responded, "Thomas, you are still young, and still rash - very, very rash. Right now, I would say that Wilhelm has the better sense between the pair of you. However, Wilhelm, you must get courage, or you will die. Here, take these coins - go get drunk, except, do not talk of anything more than the pretty women you left behind. The Witch Hunters must continue to think we are no more than foolish fops." Even as the pair walked off, Wijerd felt a tightening in his guts - this would be the first true test of his men, but at least if these two ended up in the local stocks, that would spare his more-skilled men for the real task ahead.

Woot! Great start. I look forward to hearing of your battles.

Thanks, Von Kurst - that's high praise. Having background and battle reports count for Fate Points in our rules is definitely motivating me to do more to get the atmosphere going...

Since there are only three players in our campaign, we are each playing five warbands - our rules call for four each, but we wanted to see how a few other warbands would play out with all the rules changed we implemented between last campaign and this.

So here's the background for my next warband - Gnaw't's 'Ead-Knockers:

-----

“It's der, I tell ya – I seen it in ma dream. Da black rock outta da sky crushed da hummie city. An more, I knows – I KNOWS – where to find it!”

“Why you tell me dis?”

“Der is power – great power – in dat rock. But da Warboss, he won't get it – he'll go wid an army, and da hummies will tie 'im up inna war!” Vorgnash spat. “No – dis needs sneakin'. Just a few o' us, goin' in, gettin' the pieces o' da rock, gettin' gold, gettin' majik, gettin' power! Den, when you's ready, we get our own Waaagh, and you rule da world!”

Gnaw't thought, or at least tried to. “Ol' Dromskull, he won' like it. He won' like missin' out.” He chuckled. “Tuff. Let's do it!”

The next several weeks saw Gnaw't's 'Ead-Knockers stealthily crossing the World's Edge Mountains just north of Karak Kadrin, moving through the Eerie Downs (using the River Stir as their guide), around Essen, and West through the Dead Wood to Mordheim. They were surprised by the state of Ostermark.

Gnaw't commented to Vorgnash on this. “Vor', you was mos'ly 'rong. If'n Dromskull took us dru Red Eye and down – around da stunties, we coulda taken dis place wid no trouble.”

Vorgnash replied. “You's all 'rong on dat, Gnaw't. Da hummies fight each oder right now. A Waaagh woulda made 'em stop dat and fight us instead. Now, ya want ta show yer tail and run ta mommy Dromskull, or ya wanna get yer own power?”

That earned a fist from Gnaw't, which ended in a fight, with Krakot and Gorgruk betting against Buzgut on Gnaw't. The other boys watched between the Big 'Uns, shouting them on. Finally, Vorgnash used his staff to trip up Gnaw't, but Gnaw't double-kicked Vorgnash full in the stomach. While vile, Vorgnash's vomit lacked the acidic power of a troll, and he wisely stayed down, allowing the Boss to show his position of leadership over the Shaman. That was the right order of the world – Vorgnash needed his boss to be strong, and seen as such.

They arrived at Mordheim during a typical stormy night, and scouted each camp they found around it. They were surprised to see so much activity already, and even more to see creatures such as Beastmen in a makeshift barricade, along with Undead and others. They also found some Gobbos, and learned that Gnaw't's 'Ead-Knockers could easily hole up along with the others, in The Black Pit. Ah, The Black Pit, a bit of home in the middle of The Empire.

Gnaw't began to learn, hard as that is for an Orc. He began to see what Vorgnash was talking about. There was opportunity here, but you had to keep it under wraps. The humans did indeed fight each other in the ruins, tooth and nail. They acted quite Orky, in fact. Gnaw't liked that. He could stay here for a while.

EXCELLENT story-line. It will be a REAL PLEASURE following your campaign.

Thank ye, sir. Here's the next warband, my Ostlanders. I had to keep the names from the last campaign - I like their flavor too much. So here's the backstory for Die Blauvein Handelgesellschaft:

-----

On a small mountain farmstead, a little ways out from Ferlangen in Ostland, an older man bustles up along a dirt track, heading for the homestead. He grabs a couple of younger men, and after an excited talk, they run into the house on his heels.

Straight on entering the one-room main house, the older man shouts, “Ma!” An ancient woman jumps, tipping over a kettle, and hops out of the way of the boiling Stone Soup sloshing over the floor – she then whacks the speaker on the forehead with a hot spoon – all before he can say another word.

But he doesn't stop speaking. “Ma! I have it! Here, look! Black gold!”

She stops in the middle of another spoon swing, with a gleam in her eye. “What? How'd ya get that?”

“I won it, fair and square – from a ferriner down on his luck. He said it come from that Ostermark city – Mordheim.”

“By Taal, Onkel Jed! Ya lost yer mind? Get that Chaos-rock outta here!” The woman commences to swinging that spoon so fast and hard that all three of the much-larger men skedaddle outside quicker than a jack-rabbit.

Jakob Bo is the first to speak, “Onkel, I coulda tol' ya that Ma wouldn't like this none.”

Jed replies, “Chaosfire and tarnation – this is our chance to strike it rich! The man said there's lots more where that came from – that whole city stinks o' the stuff! Get a few of our cousins and meet me at the tavern – we're going down to Mordheim!” While Jed heads back to Ferlangen, carrying the shard of wyrdstone, Jakob Bo and Gunther Bo head out to find some of their family, hard-bitten jaegers in the woods.

Later, Vater Wildnis finds Jed in the tavern, with Johann-Junge in tow. “Jed, yer Ma is hoppin' mad still, and cryin'. Are ya sure yer goin' through with this?”

Jed slams his mug down. “Sure as fire, Vater. I had enough o' this, with the crops failin' the last two years. We only got one hope – getting' more-a this stone. I ain't a-feared of Mordheim. They ain't seen folk as tough as us down there. Especially not since Bubba is comin' too.”

Johann-Junge speaks up. “Onkel, don't leave me here! I couldn't stand Grandma cryin' like this day after day. An' I wanna see Mordheim – it's the greatest adventure anyone could do these days!”

Jed slowly shakes his head while Vater Wildnis sits down, his hand on Johann-Junge's shoulder seating him as well. Wildnis says, “Jed, I see the look in yer eye, and I know you won't change yer mind. But if you want to live through this, you'll need more than Bubba. You'll need me. Also, I promised your Ma that if I couldn't change yer mind, I'd best go with ya. Take Johann-Junge as well. Ma Blauvein's sisters will look after her.”

Jed's head-shaking stops, and he smiles. He grabs Vater's shoulders and shakes them. “Yaaa-hoo! I was hopin' you'd come, but I couldn't have asked ya! Of course!” He then turned to Johann-Junge, “All, right, boy, you too. Just don' you dare die there!”

And my fourth warband, The Sweet Trading Company:

-----

Captain Sweet was, by now, a shrewd man. He'd survived the comet's crash, had spirited off some good plunder, and lived in contentment in Vorderbergen. However, Reinholdt was also a vain man, and fond of spending his crowns. His contentment ended. So, he did what he knew. He gathered up some other pirates who were at the end of their “contentment,” found a serviceable boat, and began smuggling. Once he had set by enough crowns (and was on the run from Reikland's law), he brought up another venture to his company.

“Mates,” he began, “ye know that I survived the crash of the comet in Mordheim, and ye know that I made me first haul from the ruins there. Sure, there's lot's o' monsters in the Damned City now, but I knows where the goods still can be found. I say we outfit the Heimlicher Vogel with some proper guns, get a real crew, and head upriver to find our fortunes there. Not only will this give us rest from Reikland, but we can make better profit from Mordheim's plunder than the meager returns we get here. What say ye?”

Heck and Smythe considered for a bit, and were agreed.

The three found a couple of gunners, proper boatswains, some more crew, and a couple of younger lads to follow along. Under cover of night, they rowed up to Mordheim, mooring near the South Gatehouse. Reinholdt, Heck, Robert, and James took a small boat to shore. It wasn't long before goblin arrows drove them back to the main boat.

“What the hell, Cap'n?” snarled Heck when they returned aboard the Heimlicher Vogel.

“Well, well – the enforcement of the law is even less than we heard, Heck. All that means is we won't have to worry about gettin' caught, and that we arm more for battle, and less for stealth. Smythe, Bart, and Edvard – join us! Jerry, Matt, you as well – it's about time you learned how to fight boys your own size!”

The expanded group rowed a bit farther downriver, and made their way around the site of the goblin's attack. They saw the fires coming from The Black Pit, figured it for an expanded greenskin encampment, and found a good site to waylay possibly-returning goblins. As they expected, sunrise saw the dozen goblins making their weary way back towards the larger camp. Five well-aimed crossbow bolts took out the goblin's leadership, and the rest immediately fled. Jerry and Matt ran forward only to vainly club already-dead bodies.

Captain Sweet quickly called them back, and they scouted beyond, making a circuit of the city. In Brigandsburg, Reinholdt met an old friend.

“Red Rum, you bastard!” yelled Geisser. “What are you doin' back here?”

“I couldn't stand another day of Vorderbergen, and got homesick for me old city. So, ye never left, did ye, Geisser? I'll forgive what ye owe me if ye'll accept some more goods from Mordheim.”

“What? You ha'n't heard, ha' you? Mordheim's old goods are long gone by now. Sure, there's a few things still to be found, but the comet's stone – wyrdstone they call it – is the stuff to get these days.”

“Wyrdstone?”

“Sure – here, look. You find other rocks that look like this, and I'll pay you plenty.”

“Of course, I'm sure others will pay more... Still, I thank ye for the information, Geisser – I'm sure we can work out an arrangement once I have some o' this stone.”

“One more think I'll tell you, Red Rum. The city is full of Chaos monsters. Men do mutate there. Keep your skin close.”

“I'll heed yer words, Geisser. Thank ye again.”

Once again on the Heimlicher Vogel, Reinholdt laid plans with his mates and crew. Mordheim wasn't what Reinholdt remembered, but he could still make this work – indeed, he could make it work quite well...

Finally, the background for my Undead warband, Gebieter Ludwig mit Gefolge:

-----

“Ludwig, come closer. Closer.” Wilhemina whispered, “Now, dear son, you will do exactly as I have said, or you will be impaled. Enough of your whines and whimpers! Perhaps we should have waited a few more years before allowing you true power.”

“Yes, mother. May I go to prepare?”

“Get out of my sight,” she hissed, “Don't return unless it is with two wagons full of wyrdstone for our Count.”

Ludwig swished out of the deserted hall. Why was she doing this to him? He tried to appease her whims, keep her happy, and stay out of court intrigue. What good was being an immortal if one was never to just enjoy oneself?

He found a couple of girls to sate his frustration, then gathered his retainers. “Oskar, Meinhard, Ichabod, go and arm yourselves. Yes, gather armor and shield, spear and bow. We are going to skirmish and plunder.” The petulance in Lord Ludwig's voice was obvious to even these three, but they were silent and did exactly as he commanded.

While the wretches went to the armory, Ludwig remained in town, finding Alexander in his favorite haunt. “Alexander, my friend, I have been directed to a place which should interest you. There are constant new dead, and magic stone besides.”

“Yes,” answered Alexander slowly, “I thought you would soon be ordered to go there. Sylvania is being practically drained of its newer vampires to fulfill our Count's pursuit of wyrdstone. If you are going, I would be glad to follow you. There are study opportunities available there which can be found nowhere else.”

Ludwig brightened a bit, and gave a sardonic smile. “Well, I'm glad at least one of us will find this 'adventure' enjoyable. Darkness knows I don't. Just a bunch of monsters, no matter their skin, scrapping like common beasts over some rocks. Damn – even the common beasts have more sense – at least they just fight over food and females!”

“Lord, you may not yet realize the import of what you pursue, however, if Count von Carstein's plans come to full, the entire Empire may be laid bare at your feet. Surely a few months among barbarity is worth that.”

“I'm sure you're right – you do care to see the power lines in Sylvania. Well, I don't have to enjoy this – I just have to do it.”

On the way out of Mikalsdorf, Ludwig called a few ghouls to him, and the company set on their journey. It wasn't very far, Ludwig reflected. He could return any time he wished, and maybe he could even fulfill his mother's restriction on his reappearance – he knew she wasn't kidding about that.

Later on the road, after Eisigfurt, Alexander spoke to Ludwig. “Lord, from the rumors it appears that there are disturbances in Mordheim's old cemetery, and the dead priests no longer hold sway. Although you are nobility, and can keep the wolves of Sigmar at bay, it would be better for us mere mortals to stay away from the surrounding encampments and find a hold directly in the cemetery.”

“Chaos, man! You would take away what minute culture and revelry I could find among the thieves and rapists around Mordheim?”

“Lord, you are a vampire, and capable of much more than the rest of us. However, I do believe you would prefer our hands to help in this venture rather than relying on the absolute scum you'll find already around the ruins. I only ask that you consider this possibility.”

“Alright, alright.” Ludwig sighed. “First we will enter one of the encampments and stay for a night at least – we must get fresh news upon arrival. After that, if I find too many firebrands, or absolutely no culture, then we'll remove to this cemetery. It just seems so... typical. By the grave, I should just abscond to Marienburg. I'm sure I could live in unrest there. I know, enough of this traitorous talk. If it wasn't for our Count, I'd be just another weakling fop. A wyrdstone-hunting we will go.”

FIVE warbands! Wow. Excellent background writing for each. I am partial to the Ostlanders. Now I want to do a Hillbillies warband with Granny and Elly May... A rickety wagon and some starved horses, long rifles, can't decide if Granny should be the Priest of Taal or not...

Calamitas








Hessl Flach
wiped his thin lips with a linen napkin and returned to his meal. His long spidery fingers picked through the
bony remains of a capon; the fat from the bird’s carcass made the skin on his
hands shine in the light from the fireplace.
He had already devoured a mound of sauerkraut and roasted potatoes. “More wine, Trader Flach?” asked the portly
innkeeper, whom happened to pass by his table.
Hessl held up one hand and gave a languid wave, sending the man on his
way as he used a slice of rye bread to mop up the last drips of dark gravy.





…………





A short
time later the innkeeper came back by the table. The trader had pushed his plate away; one
pallid hand toyed with the stem of his goblet.
Trader Flach looked up and a wintry smile crossed his thin, bony
face. “I will have some more of that
wine now” he said. The innkeeper’s
pasted on smile didn’t change, but he gave a small shiver. The trader had a deep smooth voice, a
pleasant baritone that seemed to well up from deep within his lanky frame, as
if another larger man occupied his flesh.
“Heading out in the morning, sir?” he asked in a hopeful tone. The trader’s dark eyes regarded him for a
moment before he replied. “Yes, I do
need to move on…I heard that there was a good shipment of wool to be had at…..”
The trader’s words chopped off and his pupils shrank to pinpoints. The timbers of the building creaked from a
sudden gust of wind and shadows danced against the walls as the flames in the
fireplace flared up for a moment. With a
smooth movement the trader sprang erect and wheeled to face the west, standing
motionless. After a moment he shook
himself and strode from the room with a murmured “Yes, yes I will be leaving in
the morning.” The innkeeper stared after
him and then went to build up the fire.
The shadowy corners of the common room suddenly made him…uncomfortable.








……….





A few hours
later the latch on the door to the trader’s room lifted and he entered,
carrying a loose, lumpy bundle over his bony shoulder. He laid his burden on the wooden floor,
secured the door behind him, and strode over to the window. Throwing the shutters open he was struck by a
blast of cold, frigid air. He surveyed the
street below him and then turned back into the room, his dark glittering eyes
coming to rest upon the candle on top of the table near the wall. A small flame leapt to life with a flick of
one well manicured finger. Setting to
work he unrolled the bundle and the innkeeper’s young daughter, bound and
gagged rolled upon the floor. She looked
up at him, eyes sick with fright as he lit a small brazier of incense and then
opened a small wooden box that contained a collection of small razor sharp
knives and long taxidermy needles.








………..








A short time later the trader sat and inhaled deeply, the
coppery tang of blood mixing with the pungent smell of the exotic incense. He cast his mind loose from his physical body
and stepped aside into the Veil. In this place the Essence of the scene was
made evident. His own Symbol stood
clear: that of the girl, the human destroyed; the network of the ritual binding
them together. In this place he could
see the Lord, so far away, a blazing energy that was cold with a coldness that
made the winter’s night like a crackling fire, a hunger and cruelty vaster than
worlds. He communed with the Dark One
and made a pact, selling his soul for power.
PAIN. The pain lasted forever and
less time than he could grasp. COLD. There had never been warmth, he was blind in
a universe of torment yet he could sense as never before, information pouring
past senses never meant to handle such overload:





comettwintailed-longlongarcburningthroughtheatmospheregroundblackrushingup
-IMPACTpaindissolutionseparation-seeingmaybemaybenotpossiblefuture…





With the power came a new name, a new purpose.





……….





A hammering
and the sound of splintering wood brought Vitiosus back to the ephemeral
world. He rose to his feet, moving in
dream-like slowness to face the enraged face of the innkeeper and two burly
town guardsmen. Vitiosus spoke the forbidden name of his new Master and watched
as the three men reeled about in indescribable pain, their hands clutched to
their heads before falling to the ground with blood leaking from every
orifice. He strode down the stairs and
left the building as it flamed behind him and sent sparks dancing into the sky,
a sacrifice to the Dark Emperor. His
feet carried him west into the night, towards the west, towards Mordheim.

Hah! Welcome, Ogre! I can see that the storytelling quality has gone up quite a few notches. Alright, then. Here ya go: the "Battle Report" of the 1st Campaign Turn for my Marienburgers...

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The sun broke the still air around the City of the Damned, finding Die Söldnerfirma von Haswell just upriver of the walls, surveying the city layout. Captain Wijerd Haswell spoke, “We should start at the river and go around, staying near the walls at first, until we know what we're up against.” They spent a good part of the early morning scouting a way through the walls.

After entering, all of the company was spooked and nervous. The smell of the city was overpowering in its decay, the dust was torturous on the nostrils, and the sounds – the sounds were like a zoo of demons: all catcalls, screams, piercing sing-song and moans, underlain by a maddening buzzing which sprung from no source. The lack of wind in the place was also disturbing – except for Haswell's men, there was no movement. No birds, no flies, not even rats nor roaches. A mere three streets into the ruins, and Wilhelm was visibly sweating with fear.

The Captain spoke words of comfort and discipline (which men often find to be the same), “Soldiers! Remember that this is a place of devastation. There will be things here we have never seen. However, they can die by sword and arrow just like anyone else – and we are strong. We will stay together, watch out for each other, and react as a company! Each of you must keep your wits about you – call out if you really see any threat, otherwise, keep to our mission!”

They spotted a statue fairly soon after. Haswell couldn't resist inspecting it, and found chaos-graffiti all over, and the statue emitting slow tears of blood, almost like it was crying. He could just make out carving in the base, “Count Gotthardt, Founder of Mordheim.” Very unsettling, even to him. The statue appeared almost alive, watching them with pleading, maddened eyes. The company moved away, carefully, but quickly.

The men continued to explore the area, noting the major avenues, and finding a well. During Thomas and Wilhelm's bout of drinking at The Dancing Pig, the pair had learned that much of the Twin-tailed Comet had penetrated the ground, and that underground places (such as sewers, catacombs and wells) had a higher amount of wyrdstone about than the ruined buildings. Of course, Thomas immediately offered to go down the well and search it. Grudgingly, Wijerd allowed him to, with the company on full alert and covering Thomas's descent with bows.

Thomas wrapped a kerchief about his mouth and nose, laid his spear, shield and bow on the ground, made sure his dagger was ready, and slowly began a climb down the broken stones of the well. He found the bottom had filled in with muck and debris, and due to the dim light, he saw a faint greenish glow. He draw his dagger, gradually worked out the glow's source, and there he had it – their first shard of wyrdstone!

In a scrabbling climb, Thomas made it back up the well, and triumphantly presented his find. Everyone slapped him on the back, and the company finally seemed to get over their initial jitters. They continued on, with the shadows watching their every move.

Around noon, the company ventured more to the west, exploring the area between the Statue of Count Gotthard and the Raven's Barracks. There they found three more shards of wyrdstone. They also found a relatively-undamaged house. This abode must have belonged to a well-off merchant, due to its surrounding gardens, which of course were completely dead. The company executed a military search of the house, watching for any movement at all. There was none. The house had apparently been ransacked many times, but Haswell knew some tricks that the previous visitors apparently didn't. Hidden in a compartment under the firebox itself, Haswell found a scroll tube, and within, a map – of Mordheim itself! This had obviously been copied before the calamity, but he felt that it still should be accurate enough to help out some. He tied the scroll tube on his belt.

Haswell felt justified in keeping his men close to the wall during this exploration – they were able to get out in good measure, just before sundown. They had a good evening in Sigmarhaven, paying their keep to the City Watch. The next day they found traders to accept some of the wyrdstone they'd obtained, and bought a helmet for Haswell. The balance in crowns was spent on food and supplies, with a portion stashed away to send back to Marienburg later. That evening they also found a swordsman friendly to the cause of Empress Margritta, and hired and outfitted him to join the company.

Haswell felt pleased. They had come through the first exploration without bloodshed, and with an increase in confidence, numbers, and wealth. He hoped this would continue...

Vorgnash woke up with his head pounding, pounding in silence. Where were the voices of his fellows? He sniffed – no breeze. He stood up and looked at the dying campfires from last night – the smoke went up straight in the dead air.
“&*(W#$”, he thought. “Dis be no day to start in da city!"

But Boss Gnaw't, head of Gnaw't's 'Ead-Knockers, woke up in a wonderful mood – very, very strange for an early morning. His menacing grin went from torn ear-tip to torn ear-tip. Vorgnash kept his thoughts to himself – he couldn't second-guess what the fool was thinking anyway, not today.

“Alright boyz, up wid da yellow-face today! Let's get crackin'!” bellowed Gnaw't. Damn, he was even cheerful. “What the 'ell?” Vorgnash thought. “'E been drinkin' dat fairy wine?”

The 'Ead-Knockers grunted themselves awake, and went for a plunge near the River in order to shake off last night's celebration. Then they made a beeline for the South Gatehouse.

The smell and noise immediately hit them. “Ah, ju't like 'ome, innent it?” smirked Gorgruk. Gnaw't spoke up, “Get out wide, and look for dat rock!”

Buzgut replied, “But dere's rock all over da place! We'z dat rich right now?”

Vorgnash knew he had to act - damn. He popped Buzgut in the forehead with his staff, and held its end over the Big 'Un's brow. Through the pounding pain in his head, Vorgnash chanted loudly, “Look for da green lines in da rock. Look for da green glow in da rock. It'll call to us. Dis black rock ain't nuttin!” He pushed Buzgut down in the ground, and stomped off. Buzgut went to draw his blade, but at a look from Da Boss, made sure it was just loose in its hangar instead.

So they spread out wide, and began searching.

Krakot noticed first. “Hey, Boss! Da hootin' and hollerin' – it's gettin' closer!”

Gnaw't bellowed (he liked doing that), “Alright, 'Ead-Knockers! Get togedder! Bows out!”

From the dust emerged figures. Men? No, some were much too large for hummies. Ahh, Beastmen. Gnaw't smiled. This should be fun.

The closeness of the ruins and the speed of the Beastmen didn't allow a proper round of arrows, but the Orcs still shot – not a single arrow found a mark. Gnaw't yelled, “Vorgnash, give uz power!” Vorgnash made a show of casting, but he knew nothing would come – not on this damned day.

Bam refused to fire, instead turning around and shouting, “Hey, wut the 'ell am I doin' out front? You tryin' to kill me?”

A Centigor flanked left. Gorgruk and Skod ran up through a building from the right flank to get a better position towards center. Buzgut and Lodd stayed back a moment to see whether to flank to the right. The Orcs fired one last round of arrows, then got ready to receive the charge.

Unbelievably, the Centigor charged across the line to Skod, knocking him sprawling in the dirt. The rest of the Beastmen line also charged, but the other Orcs held. Gorgruk counter-charged the Centigor, but couldn't best him. In fact, none of the Orcs managed to give any better than they took.

Skod didn't get back up. Vorgnash got cut in the arm, and went down spouting green. The Orcs were out-numbered.

Buzgut and Lodd should have charged around the right flank, but Buzgut held Lodd's arm. “Wait!” he hissed. “Dis battle's over.”

Gnaw't was cut down by a Gor, in concert with two Bestigors. Urg and Bam went down as well. Still, the Orcs nerves held and they would have stayed, until Buzgut yelled, “Run, Krakot! Get outta dere, Gorgruk! We'z done for!” Buzgut and Lodd took off like lightning, with Krakot right behind. It took a moment longer for Gorgruk, surrounded as he was by the Centigor, Shaman, and two Ungors – but Gorgruk knew how to survive. He barreled off the two Ungors, back into the building and out the other side. The four remaining Orcs high-tailed it back through the South Gatehouse.

Later that afternoon, they snuck back into the city, as quietly as they could. No more bragging; no more shouting. All sneaking and stealth. They found the bodies of their brothers still in the dirt. Something must have called the Beastmen off their plunder. While Krakot and Buzgut retrieved the bodies of the still-breathing Orcs, Gorgruk and Lodd scouted a little distance away. They found a ruined shop, and looking through the trashed remains, located a human skeleton. In the base of its skull was lodged a stone which matched Vorgnash's description of wyrdstone. Still clutched in the bony fingers was a coin purse, in which they found a few coins. So the day wasn't a complete waste after all.

Back in camp, Vorgnash woke first among the wounded. His arm was ripped up, but thanks to the amazing healing abilities of the Orcs, would repair in a few days. He inspected Gnaw't, Urg, Bam, and Skod. All would be fine – they were just knocked about, except Urg – his green skin was graying, due to a broken length of wood lodged in his back. So Vorgnash took some special implements he'd brought, gave Urg some strong drink, and proceeded to cut. Vorgnash found that the wood wasn't so far in, and was able to cut it out and patch up Urg's bleeding. Vorgnash knew he'd be fine in a couple of days, so long as he ate plenty of raw meat.

The three Big 'Uns hit the camp that night and the next, telling stories about the massive creatures in Mordheim, and how the small band of Orcs managed to hold their own against much greater odds. Their coordinated exaggerations managed to impress one Orc, and when Krakot presented him with a bow as a “gift,” managed to get him to join up.

Gnaw't ended up the day disgusted. He didn't want to come here at first – he'd allowed himself to be “smart-talked” by that damned Shaman. And then the Shaman didn't perform during his first battle, and wouldn't be able to help during their next exploration. Still, Gnaw't was an Orc, and a Boss to boot. He wouldn't quit. More wyrdstone would be his soon enough.

FIRST RATE story telling! All you'd need to make it perfect is a couple of photos...just to see if the heroes look like I have them envisioned.

Thank you very much, DeafNala! Unfortunately (?) writing is much easier for me than modelling/painting. My Pirates and Undead are WYSIWYG painted, but not my other warbands. The other two players are in about the same state, but we're working on it! (My plan is for one warband per campaign turn, so I have a few more to go.) When we do have actual battles between fully-painted warbands, we do plan to take photos. Hopefully that'll start in Campaign Turn 2...

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Gunther Bo was a simple kind of man. He was something his Ma could love and understand. He and Jakob Bo were here to help Onkel Jed, plain and simple. Sure, adventure was fine. Getting' rich was fine. But family was always, always first.

Die Blauvein Handelgesellschaft, as Jed had named them during their travel here, got up before dawn, and were well on their way to the city walls when the sun peeked over the horizon.

Vater Wildnis was in a bad mood. He'd said it was a bad day to start exploring – the air was still, and that meant Taal was displeased. Still, Jed was anxious to go. “Just to have a look-see. We won't get in no trouble.” Vater Wildnis capitulated.

Ignoring the tales of the West Gate, they came close to it. Vater Wildnis took one look at the small grove planted in front of the gate, and immediately retched. After clearing the vomit from his mouth, and a few dry heaves later, he gasped, “Those are no trees. They are abominations unto all that is natural! They are powerful, powerful Chaos-spawn! Do not approach them, lest they rend us limb from limb!” Onkel Jed didn't argue – he knew when Vater Wildnis started speaking all preachy that it was best to leave him be.

So they went southwards a bit, and started scouting for a way through the ruined walls. After a while, they found a breach, got through, and started scouting the area immediately behind. The city smelled fine, but there was a queer absence of animal life, and some mighty strange sounds instead. Hunters, especially in Ostland, are used to strangeness, so they continued as normal.

They'd managed to pick up three shards of wyrdstone when cousin Georg-Bob heard a keening nearby. Being an inquisitive sort, he went to get a closer look, and saw a treasure chest in the middle of a ruined house! There was some movement nearby, but he couldn't tell what it was.

“Onkel!” Georg-Bob called out. “C'mere! There's a chest!”

All of the Ostlanders came over, and the movement happened again. “Tarnation!” spat Wildness. “That's a Banshee! Never leave a woman who loves ye!”

After a moment, Jed spoke up. “All right, boys. Here's the plan. Jakob Bo, Gunther Bo, take Bubba, Johann-Junge, Willie-Bob, and go around right o' this here building. Vater, Hans-Bob, and Georg-Bob, come with me to the left.”

They split up and began to move forward, when they saw some more movement from the dust further on. They stopped, and out of the dust marched some Dwarfs.

“Oh, no you don't,” shouted Jed, “We saw it first!”

But the Dwarfs were already in motion, running as fast as their stumpy feet could move. The Banshee reacted and floated towards them.

“Hoo-wee! See, Vater! Taal's on our side!” shouted Jed.

George-Bob and Willie-Bob moved forward, taking pot shots as the Dwarfs. None hit. The others all moved forward in a position to rush the chest.

But the Dwarf leader, along with two Troll Slayers, just pulled out axes and easily charged the fearsome spirit. The good iron in the Noble's axe hit and pained the Banshee, and she came screaming across the field, straight at Georg-Bob. He stiffened in fright, and her continued screams pierced his ears – he fell straight away, blood pouring from all orifices of his head.

“Jakob Bo! Y'all keep an eye on those dwarves. Left side – get 'er done!” yelled Onkel Jed, and he charged. Hans-Bob and Vater Wildnis tried to move, but their feet wouldn't respond – that left Jed, all alone, with the Banshee. His wild swing missed. She reached out and held him with icy hands, then screamed directly into his face. Not even Jed could withstand that, and his body collapsed in a heap.

The Dwarfs kept steadily advancing towards the chest.

Jakob Bo, Gunther Bo, and Johann-Junge all ran up a ladder into a building where they could keep watch on the Dwarfs. At Jakob Bo's word, Bubba charged the Banshee – Bubba was just too big and stupid to be scared of anything, and he ran right into her. At the same time, Gunther Bo called out to the Dwarfs. “Alright, she's bested my uncle! Y'all grab the damned chest and clear out! We won't bother you no more!”

The Dwarfs nodded assent. But Bubba struck the Banshee, and once again the iron drove her away – straight back to the Dwarfs. Almost absent-mindedly, they drove her back to Bubba. This was a strange game of chaos-tennis, make no mistake.

Then the Dwarf Noble called out. “You humans seem honorable after all! We will help you vanquish the Banshee!”

Vater Wildnis and the cousins still on the ground climbed up in a ruined wagon to get out of the way. Wildnis shouted, “Bubba, move away from the chest! If you drive her off far enough, she'll stay away for a while!”

Bubba hit the Banshee back, and moved off while the Dwarfs advanced. The Banshee once again charged the Noble, but Dwarven ears must be deaf to the complaints of women. They simply drove her towards Bubba again. Luckily, Bubba was fairly deaf too, and he finally, finally hit her hard, and drove her far away. This time she continued, screaming long after she couldn't be seen.

Some of the Dwarfs had grabbed the chest during this time. Vater Wildnis went to the two downed Ostlanders. “They'll live,” he said to the Blood-brothers as they came back down the ladder. The men gathered up Onkel Jed and Georg-Bob, when they heard a shout from the Dwarfs.

“Aye, that blasted bow!” The Dwarf Noble called out to Gunther Bo. “Human, come here. You have been honorable, and we wish to bestow a gift upon you!”

Gunther Bo went over, while the rest of the Ostlanders fingered their weapons. “Coo-ee!” Gunther Bo called out when he saw the bow. It was ornate, and the best-crafted bow he had ever laid eyes on. “You mean it? You're giving us this?” Gunther Bo said. The Dwarf Noble responded, “Yes, if you'll just get it out of the chest, take it away, and swear never to use it against us!” Gunther Bo responded, “Shoot, yeah! And thank you, sir!”

The Ostlanders then bid the Dwarfs farewell, and left the city. As soon as they returned to Cutthroat's Den, Vater Wildnis said, “These tents just won't do. Jakob Bo, take Johann-Junge and go find some proper housing.” The pair went off, and were extremely lucky – they found two other Ostlanders holed up in a ruined farmhouse, and the two were eager for company. So Die Blauvein Handelgesellshaft moved in, and the two joined up.

When Onkel Jed woke again, it was on a proper pallet, with a bit of roof over his head, and an ornate, magical bow on his chest. Johann-Junge was there with him. Jed spoke, “What happened?” Johann-Junge filled him in on the details. Jed replied, “Y'all did me proud. I'll honor the agreement with the dwarves. Johann-Junge, you take the bow. You can become a great hero with a bow like this!”

That night, Jakob Bo and Gunther Bo met up with the Dwarfs in camp, and the two groups drank together. The Blood-brothers brought the Dwarfs up on the news, and promised that they would start scouting another section of the city, in an attempt to avoid running into each other accidentally.

Georg-Bob also recovered under the ministrations of Vater Wildnis, and a couple of days later, Die Blauvein Handelgesellschaft was ready to brave the ruins again. Onkel Jed called Gunther Bo to him and said, “Gunther Bo, I know what you did back there. If I get treasure-stupid again, you call me out. Would you do this, for me son, if you can?”

The day dawned with no wind. No matter, the pirates weren't going downriver anyway. The nightwatchman woke up Captain Sweet and the rest of the day crew.

“Now, lads,” Sweet addressed his men, “We'll be takin' the Heimlicher Vogel into Mordheim itself today. Ye see all the scum going to the gates or traipsin' around the walls? Let 'em. We'll go on the river instead!”

So the oarsmen strained against the current of the River Stir, and gingerly negotiated the ruins of the southern river wall. The Rock loomed up on the starboard side, perfect in its barrenness.

“Hmm, so that killjoy survived intact, did it?” murmured Captain Sweet. Speaking louder, he called out, “Well, that settles it, men. We'll go ashore on the West side, in the Riverfront neighborhood.”

So the boats were lowered and the shore party set out at some ruined docks. Sweet sent the boats back to the ship with, “Meet us on the West side of t' river, just South o' the walls. We'll be there 'fore dusk.”

Once in the streets, the smell of the ruins assaulted them, along with the noises. Heck gave Sweet a wink, snuck up behind Jerry and Matt, springing out with a “Ha!” The rest of the party laughed a good many minutes from how the two younglings jumped. The Captain appreciated Heck for that – he broke the tense mood.

Sweet headed for some of the old haunts he knew, and noted how things had changed. He confided to Heck, “I swear some o' these buildings an' streets have moved, not just been blasted! Chaos must be strong here indeed.”

Turning one corner, the pirates all stopped still. In front of them was a scene of recent mass carnage. Body parts were strewn across the street, blood and gore splattered on the refuse, and parts of walls recently stove through.

“What the hell, Captain?” spoke Greg.

Reinholdt responded, “By Sigmar’s Balls, I honestly don't know. Check ‘em, lads – see if they have anything they can’t use anymore.”

Guts churning inside, with the two gunners training their weapons on the surroundings, the pirates sifted through the grisly scene. Hidden in a pile of unidentifiable trash, Greg found someone still alive – a Stirlander, by his looks. The poor fool was blubbering, and had a nasty gash on his chest, but was still alive. Nothing else but a dagger was found.

Being pirates, they helped the Stirlander, and brought him with them. Of course, being pirates, they knew the straggler would end up a part of their crew, one way or another…

They continued searching, working their way down to the Rat Hunters neighborhood. In all, they found three wyrdstone. The men knew some other creatures were about, as they heard far-off skittering and squeaking. Perhaps the rats were looking for their hunters… Luckily, the pirates didn’t encounter the source of the sounds, and left the city untouched. They met their boats in good order.

Back on the ship, they talked to the Stirlander, who appeared a bit crazed. They got his name as Otto, but could not make out much else. Still, they found he understood and would follow orders, so they let him stay, as a swabbie. They’d use him ashore as well – perhaps he’d at least squawk if trouble was brewing.

Back in Brigandsburg, Captain Sweet was able to strike a deal with Geisser to sell the wyrdstone, and was even able to recruit some other pirates – enough that he felt comfortable allowing two more boatswains to join the shore party. “Ah, this is the life,” thought Reinholdt. “Some risk, sure, but the rewards are worth it.”

“Well, Alexander, you were right. We should remove to the graveyard, especially since the Pit Fights are what passes for ‘culture’ here.” Ludwig had started this venture in a foul mood, and it continued to worsen. Alexander was concerned for him, in one way: Ludwig had begun to care less for his personal upkeep, and had started to appear truly menacing, with a temper to match. Alexander was hopeful for Lord von Carstein in another: perhaps he would become an effective vampire yet.

Cutthroat’s Den had been the most interesting of the encampments Lord von Carstein found, but the brawling streets and drunken humans had fouled his tastes. The very next morning – yes, morning – Ludwig made his entourage rise and head straight for Mordheim’s walls. They observed from a rise near the walls, and located the ruined dome of the Temple of Morr – a place they would normally avoid, however they knew the Cemetery of St. Voller to be nearby.

Just to the west of the temple, they began to search the walls for an entrance, finding one with little difficulty. Upon entering, they set about scouring the cemetery for a useful site. Of course, the old graves were by and large sealed, and this set both Ludwig and Alexander, not to mention their Ghouls, on edge. But deeper into the city, and closer to the Gaol, they began to find suitable areas. Eventually, they came across a mausoleum that was apparently built just before the comet’s crash, but which had never been occupied.

Although there were ruined houses nearby which Ludwig could have used, he insisted upon the mausoleum. “Might as well play the part we are given,” he commanded. The Ghouls went to feed a bit, while the Dregs set up camp.

Once that was done, the party explored the ruins around the cemetery, finding two shards of wyrdstone. Ludwig was disappointed – it would indeed take a while to fill two wagons if this was all they could find in an afternoon’s search. Towards evening, they did locate the desolate foundation of a smithy, and hidden in the smashed ruins, a single flail. Well, it would bring a few crowns when sold.

Ludwig sent the Dregs to trade the wyrdstone and flail, and under Alexander’s direction, they looked to obtain certain herbs and poisons, which, when mixed in a special formulation, would help Ludwig heal any wounds. It took a while, but as most anything can be found around Mordheim, they were able to do so.

During the night and all next day, the Undead warband wandered the area around their new camp, becoming familiar with all the sights and sounds of in the City of the Damned. They found another lone Ghoul, and Ludwig quickly conscripted the creature to his own entourage. In spite of himself, Ludwig went to his rest wondering, what would the next day bring? Was this truly all there was to this heap of ruins?

Ludwig's time in Mordheim will make a man of him...in a manner of speaking. GOOD READ!
I have a rather different problem with reports; i.e., while I have OODLES of things to take pictures of, I lack the ability to post photos...you wouldn't believe what I've gone through to post the few photos I have scattered around the Forum.

Any pics?

It was strange how the small details kept surfacing in his thoughts. They were like dead bodies bobbing in a pool
of murky water, hard to ignore and promising horror to come when you flipped
them over to see the pallid face of someone you knew.





Shreep, shreep,
shreep…Torquil stropped a whetstone down the edge of his axe blade. His dark brown eyes stared past bushy
eyebrows, focusing outward as his thoughts turned inward. The fine grained stone slowly shaved away at
the dense metal, smoothing out the small nicks in the blade….





Small. The Strongweld kinfast had always been a
small clan. With only three adult
survivors the continuity of the family was shattered, the all encompassing belonging that was the core of his life
was gone. Individuals were born and
died, but the bloodline went on forever.
The Strongwelds could trace the line of the Folk back to ancient
days. Torquil shivered at the thought
that only a few lives stood against the extinction of their Line. Some of the children still lived, but they
had not learned the traditions, the essence
of the clan bond.





He fingered
the scrap of Manya’s dress, his brother’s wife, in his hand. The color was simple, earth toned. The cloth itself was a wondrous creation of
differing thread widths and textures in geometric patterns of looping
lines. His broad thumb rubbed over the
cloth. Just like a dwarf….fairly simple
to look at, but quite complex once you took the time to peer closely at the
details. A corner of the fabric was darker
colored, stained with blood…perhaps Manya’s, perhaps someone else’s.





The battle
itself was a barely remembered blur; the shrill whistle of arrows from the
darkness, crude iron axes chopping and splintering shuttered doors and windows,
and bestial roars. A bright fan of blood
gushing from the split skull of a goat horned beast man. The screams of the younglings mixing with his
own hoarse bellow. Seeing Manya carried
off into the darkness.





Torquil
looked up and across the ruined city.
Even from this low hill on the outskirts he could see things moving through the rubble choked
streets, crawling like maggots in a dead carcass. A foul odor crawled through the air, thick
and cloying. Behind him he could hear
his warriors stirring. They had followed
the beastman to this place, ever one step behind. The creatures traveled too fast for the
dwarves to keep up…but now they had them.
Somewhere down there in the ruins bright steel would earn a measure of
Vengeance and just perhaps….they might find some of their missing kin.

Really well done fluff guys. Give us more!

Damn it, Ogre - you did it again! I'm gonna have to raise my storytelling level more to keep up. I'm warning you - you escalate further, and I'll bring out the big guns: getting my wife's help!

As far as pics, hopefully next Campaign Turn (this Sunday), we'll get some done. I did take a few pics of my painted warbands, but the images are still somewhat fuzzy (damn cheap camera), so I'm going to redo them.

Been a very busy few weeks. Sorry I don't have time for better quality writing after all, but our Fate Points are determined by doing battle reports, not by writing for Hugo awards... I will be spamming out the other eight battle reports soon. And no, no pictures yet - we're still having some trouble with lighting, fully-painted warbands, and in the case of my fully-painted Orcs vs some fully-painted Beastmen, remembering to grab the dang camera!

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Die Söldnerfirma von Haswell's good luck continued during their second foray into the City of the Damned. They did not meet any enemies, though they saw many scenes of horror from the aftermath of the comet's landing as they worked their way down the west side of the River Stir, towards Middle Bridge.

Using their discovered map, they were able to locate what used to be a prime shop in the City Villa area, but could only find 5 crowns in its ruins – well, along with 2 shards of wyrdstone. Their exploration in the Metalworkers neighborhood yielded 2 more, so they were quite satisfied.
Back at their tents in Sigmarhaven, Thomas's continued melee practice showed began to yield results.

Wilhelm surprised Captain Wijerd Haswell by finding an old blunderbuss, and requesting the funds to obtain and use it. Wijerd asked Wilhelm, “Exactly how did you learn to maintain and effectively use a blunderbuss?” Wilhelm responded that Kai, one of the marksmen of Haswell's Die Gerade Hand group, had been working with and training Wilhelm during any time Kai would spare. “I do want to live, and to help, Captain,” Wilhelm added. Haswell responded, “Not just yet. I cannot spare quite enough crowns for a blunderbuss yet, though we will look after our next foray.”

However, Haswell noted that Kai had taken a leadership position among Die Gerade Hand, and formally recognized this with a Corporal rank.
Instead, the company hired yet another swordsman, and did obtain helmets for Pier and Martinus, along with a shield for Kai.

---------------------

The luck of his company so far began to weigh on Haswell – he knew this could not last, and the next foray proved him right. Martinus heard rumors that a young Marienburger prince had decided to make his name by finding and returning with Count Steinhardt's signet ring. That night, rains flooded portions of the city, even as Haswell knew he had to find the prince and bring him to safety.

Still, when Haswell went looking for the fool, he didn't have to go far. The prince had lost his way just out of sight of the North Wall. The bad luck was that some Reiklanders and Witch Hunters had also spotted the boy, and decided to “rescue” him themselves. Wijerd knew this meant ransom on one side, and conversion or death on the other.

Captain Haswell deployed his men carefully and to full effect, running to secure good covering locations against both temporary enemies. While the Reiklanders rushed forward, the Witch Hunters took what concealment they could find as they moved in. The prince noticed the gangs, and panicked, running against a wall and hiding.

As the Marienburgers further consolidated their position, Kai caused the first casualty – a Witch Hunter named Conrat Töt, with Wijerd's expert shot right behind, taking out a Reiklander swordsman. The Reiklander captain had almost reached the prince when one of the Witch Hunter's warhounds stunned him. Apparently, the Witch Hunters had previously clashed with these Reiklanders and now considered them heretics. Wijerd held hope that the Reiklanders would rout, and then he could finish off the Witch Hunters.

However, Haswell's hope turned to horror as he saw the Reiklander captain, eyes wide with terror and pleading, kneel under the warhound's slavering maw, and ask for forgiveness from the Witch Hunter captain, professing his sorrow and undying loyalty to Sigmar. He enjoined the Witch Hunters to remember that the Marienburgers were godless, and were attempting to install an Empress, in absolute contradiction to the Grand Theogonist's proclomations. The Witch Hunter, after an initial scowl, performed just like any other mercenary captain, saw his opportunity, and took it with two grasping hands. He accepted the Reiklander's request, and directed them to continue to attack the Marienburgers as absolution.

The Reiklanders attacked with renewed fervor, their objective no longer split – they killed one of Haswell's swordsmen, and knocked down two others of Wijerd's men.

Haswell had no choice – he had to take a chance and show both warbands his wrath and power immediately, else he would fail. He charged half his men into melee with the Witch Hunters. Unfortunately, only Alfons managed to take out a zealot, while Pier and Wijerd's other swordsman shot two Reiklanders through.

Wijerd knew it was not enough, and the Witch Hunters proved this so. Not only were they able to capture the prince, they set the torch to Kees, and took five of the Marienburgers out of action, including Pier and Kai. Although the Reiklander captain could not keep his men from routing (thus allowing the Witch Hunters to continue their judgment against that warband), Wijerd has lost too many men to save the prince – at least he would not be a fool, and gave his men the command to retreat.

However, the Marienburgers did not flee the city – the Witch Hunters would be expecting that. Instead, they fled towards the places they already knew, and set up a bolthole in the Metalworks neighborhood. Haswell knew this might prove useful in the future.

When Die Söldnerfirma von Haswell finally returned to Sigmarhaven, they received more black looks than normal, however the City Watch was not instructed to turn them away – the Witch Hunters knew they needed the men and money Haswell brought to their “haven.” All the Marienburgs except the slain swordsman made it back to camp safely., and Haswell's men had found 3 wyrdstone during the day's foray.

Pier recovered without injury, and Kai continued to show his potential, becoming hardened against any fear. Wijerd kept his word to Wilhem, and bought him a blunderbuss. How Wijerd wished that he had not put Wilhelm off! He also rewarded Kai with a suit of Light Armor - Haswell would replace the fallen swordsman later.

Once again, Gnaw't's 'Eadknockers snuck through the South Gatehouse, and began exploring. This time they did not meet anyone else, so they continued up to the Ampitheater, and even under the shadow of the bridge to The Rock. They longed after the soft white human flesh they saw open the bridge, but backed away from the boiling cauldrons on the walls which those feminine hands maintained.

The Orcs nosing about brought them 3 shards of wyrdstone, and a usable dagger found on a corpse.

Krakot and Buzgut practice at head-knocking began to show, while Gorgruk improved his skill in melee.

Back in the Black Pit, Gnaw't made a lucky find of two Arrer Boyz, and managed to bring them in to his gang.

It was a little boring this time, but the 'Eadknockers had needed to time to recover.

-------------

The Orcs trudged through the muddy ground back to the South Gatehouse once again, looking to push towards the Pit. But no sooner did they set foot in the swamped city than a Chaos Spawn came charging towards them!
Gnaw't was going to have some fun with this, but then he heard them – the Beastmen again! Yuk immediately started complaining while the rest of the Orcs spread out to hold their ground – all in one place, this time.

The Orcs watched in fascination while a Minotaur easily caught up with the Chaos Spawn, and while taking a hit, just sliced the spawn to pieces. The Minotaur then bellowed at the Orcs, and fished a necklace out of the spawn's carcass. Three Chaos Hounds sped forward, dodging Orc arrows, and charged.

Chaos Hounds are nothing to Orcs, though, and all three fell quickly to greenskin blows. While the rest of the Orcs cheered, Vorgnash frantically tried, and kept trying, to cast a spell to help the Orc's speed – but it wasn't to be.

The Beastmen themselves then surged forward, taking out Skod, Bam, and Gorgruk. The Orcs fought back, but the Beastmen just would not fall.
Finally, Buzgut managed to take out a pitiful Ungor, but by that time, both Arrer Boyz were down, along with Krakot.

With more than a dozen Beastmen bearing down on half that many Orcs, Gnaw't did what he had to – run with his tail between his legs once again. Those Beastmen were just too fast, tough, and strong for his Orcs – he would do everything to avoid them in the future.

This time the boyz ran up to the Ampitheatre area, and made a bolthole there. They managed to find 3 shards of wyrdstone again. Back in camp, Vorgnash managed to save Skod's life and heal Krakot's leg wound, but one Arrer Boy died, and Gorgrut had been robbed while laying among the ruins.

So Gnaw't replaced Gorgrut's weapons, and recruited another Arrer Boy. Then he went into an Orcy funk, taking his frustration out on Vorgnash, who brought him here in the first place and then didn't perform. Vorgnash accepted the blows, and began to wonder himself whether his dreams had been right – perhaps he needed the crowds of boys for his magic, and couldn't go it with just a few after all.

So the Ostlanders went around South again, this time all the way to where the city walls met the River Stir. They looked and found a way through a breach in the walls, and searched the area known as the “Rat Hunters” to the locals. Onkel Jed and his men continued up into Riverfront. There they found an old, drunk, crazy man – Jed led him out of the city, listening to his stories and tales, while Gunther Bo and Jakob Bo mentally took notes of places to search next time.

The Ostlanders also found 4 shards of wyrdstone this time, and went back to Cutthroat's Den with plenty of daylight to spare. They found that a friend of the other two jaegers from their farmhouse had returned – through a tunnel leading from Mordheim! “Well,” Jed thought, “this'll come in handy...”

Die Blauvein Handelgesellschaft welcomed this new jaeger into their company.

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On their next trip into the ruins, the Ostlanders followed the stories of the crazed straggler into the Temple of Morr, and up into The Long Walk. There they found a scene straight from their nightmares: a high-fenced cart full of shackled humans, driven by a skeleton and pulled by an emaciated horse, slowly towards the Executioner's Square.

While most of the Ostlanders watched in shock, Fater Vildnis put his hand on Johann-Junge's shoulder. “Draw yer bow, boy. Now.” The youth did as directed, hands shaking in fear and rage. The arrow was set, and the bowstring pulled taut. Vater Wildnis watched for a moment – all the others were caught in the aura of horror and fear emanating from the cart. So the Vater leaned towards Johann-Junge and said, in a low but steady voice, “Let fly the arrow – now!” Johann-Junge's hand jumped. Vater Wildnis watched with satisfaction as the bow moved while the string released, sending the arrow to exactly the right spot – the base of the skeleton's skull. The skull flew off, and the horse bolted.

The Ostlanders, released from their trance, took off with all their speed, hooping and hollering. The street was too littered with debris for the cart to remain upright long, and quickly overturned, dragging the horse with it – he was too weak to pull the cart and its human load any further.

When the Osltanders arrived, Vater Wildnis went straight to the captives, and the Ostlanders freed them. Onkel Jed went to the horse, inspected it, and finding signs of Chaos-taint, mercifully killed it.

Then the Ostlanders led the former prisoners out of Mordheim. Glad to be freed, the humans gave Onkel Jed what wealth they had: 9 crowns and an old map of the city. One of the humans was a friend of the local jaegers in the warband, and asked to join up – of course, the Ostlanders agreed.

Back at their farmhouse, the Ostlanders rested, and were mighty happy when two of their kin showed up, fresh from Ostland. A letter from Ma Blauvein (written down by a local priest) accompanied the kin – which Onkel Jed accepted with trembling hands, then asked Vater Wildnis to read:

“Dear Jeddicus,

You are my last living son. My heart was ripped the day you left for that cursed city. Why do you tempt Chaos so?

I cannot remain angry at you, of anyone. But I cannot accept any of that blood gold. It will bring ruin to us all.

Please come home. Please come back before any of you die. It is better to waste away from honest living than to tempt corruption in greed, no matter what you think best for the family.

Your loving mother,
Hilda Blauvein”

Vater Wildnis read this slowly, deliberately, without emotion. He didn't want to inject his own thoughts into the matter, though he agreed with Ma Blauvein. But he knew what Jed would do.

Jed grabbed the letter from the Vater, balled it up, and threw it in the fire. Then he grabbed a jug of brew and stormed out of the house. Gunther Bo and Jakob Bo silently suited up, and followed after a few minutes – they would not let Jed see them, but would watch to make sure nothing happened to him. A pall had settled over the family, which would not let up this day.

After he finished his hair o' the dog, Captain Sweet spoke up, “Well, lads, today we take a look at me old home – Quayside! Oars to the ready!”

The shore party disembarked and began exploring. Sweet's old rooms were demolished, so he could find no stash there. Then he took a fancy to continue towards the Pleasure District – he knew of some very secret places in those parts...

As the pirates were moving along, they saw some other movement ahead. Otto sniffed the air and mumbled, “wemmin.” The pirates fanned out, and moved towards the Sisters, thinking to take a little pleasure with their treasure today.

Reinholdt called out “Heck, Greg, you come with me – let the boys hold these girls. We need to get to the stash while we still have the light!” However, the Sisters weren't inclined to let any of the pirates pass – they spread out to meet all of them.

While Otto charged towards the Matriarch, the boy Matthias was the first to strike, clubbing a sister alongside the head with his mace – she crumpled to the ground. Reinholdt paused in his run to fire his crossbow at a Sister, and heard the “thunk” in her abdomen as she fell to the ground.

The Sisters responded in ululalating cries of fury, and Otto went down under the Matriarch's gentle ministrations, but the pirates laughed at the Sisters' meager attempts towards manslaughter. James, a boatswain, even managed to cut the Matriarch down using his left-hand dagger.

Steel Whips and Sigmarite Hammers notwithstanding, the pirates were having fun. Sure, Johannes and Wilhelm went under the hammers, but after Reinholdt ran his sword through a Sister Superior, the girls had their fill, and fled the field.

The pirate boys were about to take their fun with the fallen Sisters, but Captain Sweet snapped, “Leave them! You have not heard the tales I have of their magic, and what it might do to you were you to take them! You can have your fill of the Brigandsburg girls tonight!” So the other pirates reluctantly left the weaker sex to the city, and went in search of other treasures.

Reinhold did find what he had hoped for in a long-secret place near a house in the Pleasure District he used to know so well – one of the accurate maps of Mordheim. In fact, one of only twelve such maps to survive the comet's fall! The pirates also came by 5 shards of wyrdstone, and uncovered 6 crowns in the ruins of the brothels.

Back in Quayside, the pirates set up a bolthole, knowing that they might need it someday.

The Sweet Trading Company celebrated in Brigandsburg that night, recruiting another suitable boatswain, and obtaining a blunderbuss for the good boy Matthias, who from now on would no longer be called a boy.

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A couple of days later, the Sweet Trading company braved landing even closer to The Lights, just south of the Middle Bridge. They explored that area, then went back to exploring the Pleasure District some more, even setting up a bolthole there – after all, the Captain knew this area well (cometary destruction or no), and had a Master Map of Mordheim. The pirates found 4 wyrdstone shards.

Later at Brigandsburg, Reinholdt heard a call from a tavern door - “Red 'um! Red 'um!” He turned around, and then looked up into an ogre's face. Reinholdt said happily, “Good eve to ya', good mercenary,” while his hand slowly went towards his sword. The ogre responded, “I don't want fight you! I want talk! And I buy you drink...”

After a round of drinks, Reinholdt found that the ogre actually felt a debt to him – it seems Reinholdt had saved one of the ogre's buddies during the comet's crash. The ogre ended with, “I do wid you to da city next time – help you wid any trouble.” Reinholdt of course accepted – no-one turns down free help from an ogre!

The pirates bought another blunderbuss, this time for Jeremiah, and outfitted their new lead boatswain, Wilhelm, with a cutlass and crossbow. Soon, Reinholdt knew, he could finally get his dueling pistols...

Under Alexander's direction, the ghouls unearthed several graves and disturbed several tombs, some of them quite ancient. However, in most cases, they were not the first robbers to arrive. At last, Alexander found one with seals the ghouls could not penetrate – yet they were not seals of Morr. These were seals Alexander knew well – he smiled, and set to work. A few hours later, a Wight emerged from the tomb, following Alexanders every direction, though with seething in his eye sockets.

So the Undead began their search for wyrdstone again, going through The Long Walk, and on to The Executioner's Square. Ludwig had become absolutely sullen, and hardly said two words together. Apparently, he was content for Alexander to lead, which the latter effectively did. During their exploration, the Undead came across yet another smithy, this time with a single usable sword, and also a smashed cart which happened to have a hastily-sketched map of Mordheim showing the location of a tavern over in the Boarders neighborhood – this would give direction to their next search. Four shards of wyrdstone were also recovered. The exploration ended by establishing a bolthole alonside the Executioner's Square, and heading back to the cemetery.

Alexander continued his work, and had soon pieced together a Dire Wolf. Ludwig saw it, and just said, “Fluffy,” at which the wolf went and laid at the vampire's feet. Ludwig stroked it between the ears, alongside its exposed skull. Alexander kept his thoughts to himself.

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Further excavation revealed a usable skeleton, which Alexander promptly animated, giving him the sword found previously.

The warband then explored the Gaol itself, and on to the boarders, easily finding the tavern marked on their map. There were a few casks of usable beer left, and the ghouls shouldered their new burden after the Undead made a bolthole in the tavern. Again, four shards of wyrdstone had been found. Ludwig sighed, holding the meager sight, and wondered how he would ever fill two carts at this rate.

While the dregs went and sold the beer for a few crowns at Cutthroat's Den, Alexander continued his improving work – this time he was able to piece together two Dire Wolves, which joined Fluffy in fawning over their vampiric master, Ludwig.

Finally Ludwig broke his silence. “A few more days I will give you in this desolate space, Alexander. After that, I will just go into a long torpor – we will soon remove to Cutthroat's Den once again. At least there, I can enjoy a few young throats.” Alexander quickly nodded his understanding and agreement. “Yes, Lord. I thank you for the time here, and I follow your judgment without question.”