Fantasy The Border Princes

[Cosmo]

Deathhammer
Turn 1
Trektek

Construction of the forge goes... as well as it could. It wasn't like Deathhammer was reconstructing the great lava smelters and daemonforges of Zharr-Naggrund, although with human labor that would be an impossibility. Humans, even when given clear direction and hits with whips, were naturally clumsy creatures, incapable of replicating the work of even the youngest and most unskilled dawi. But they had a sense of loyalty when properly broken in. One of the many failures of Deathhammer's kin, the dwarfs of the Karaz-Ankor, they believed humans to be worth something, and they were, but only after they had been properly broken by the lash. They were like any other beast of burden, the fact they had thumbs didn't indicate their worthiness to be treated like 'friends', merely served to show how much greater the Dawi were, as a people and culture. Just like so many others, they existed to be used.

The 'Forge', was very similar to a human blacksmith. There was a smelter, a crude bloomery which could smelt down iron into very crude, and slag riddled, raw material that could be worked into something more. It was... painfully primiative by Dawi standards, but it was a starting point if nothing else. They'd need to invest more resources and labor to make something worthy of note like a blast furnance or a true smithing workshop, but it would do.. for now. Sadly, the stupid humans incapable of following even basic instruction, had a bit of an accident during construction, Twelve Human Slaves were lost. Perhaps they could have been saved, but the foremen and overseers put more stock in finishing the smithy and stopping the damage from spreading to it rather then getting them any kind of medical attention. Afterall, they were just slaves and humans above that.

Still, construction was completed as best it was able.

Smithy/Basic Worshop completed [30 Gold Cost]

Work on the pens went well, especially with the smithy done to allow them to construct bars to install... everywhere. The slave pens are kept underground, in the old fort's basements the bars used and installed to keep them locked away. There was something sadly poetic, or suitably poetic, about forcing these humans to construct their own holding pens. The pens would be a place for them to sleep, a few buckets were placed in for them to 'go to the bathroom with' [and they had to share the buckets, of course], and, every week or so, their overseers would take a group to go and bathe themselves in a nearby stream, mostly to stop the smell and stop the spread of disease from taking away their slaves, at least, until they had a solid network for replacing them.

It doesn't take long for the tight confinements and loss of anything resembling 'good treatment' takes their toll on the slaves. Some of the stronger ones form groups within their cells, they start taking control of the buckets, of the food, demanding favors of all sorts for use of either and beating down those who resist. The efforts of Deathhammer in setting up 'incentives' both works.. and doesn't. Humans had a capacity for cleverness and cruelty that was beyond the orcs {but nothing compared to Deathhammer, himsef}. Two of the groups started to purposely sabotage the third, forcing them to slow down in work.. they did this by hurting their workers when the overseer was looking the other way, breaking a finger here and there, shattering a nose... Threatening to harm them or their loved ones.. The third group naturally slowed down and so came in last... They picked a small man, who had his leg broken by one of the other groups, as their sacrifice.. He was shoved, forcibly, into the daemon engine on Deathhammer's chest, his shoulders snapping like twigs as the thing inside pulled the screaming man into its burning abyss, blood spurting out and over his terrified group, until his screams and pleas for help finally stopped...

A rather harsh display, but a needed one, not that it would make a difference, so long as the alliance of the two remained, this group would always come in last. It seemed the 'two' agreed to alternate who got the reward, some time would tell if this would be a fruitful partnership that gives them ideas or if it'll naturally fall apart.

Rudimentary Slave Pens Constructed [15 Gold Cost]

During the season, 6 additional slaves died from sickness, injury or wasting away in their pen {5 + 1 devoured by daemon}. Slaves have an attrition rate each season, this rate goes up or down depending on events and your care, or lack there of, for them and their work load. {Lightning got to avoid it this turn because he crit, otherwise his would be higher then yours}​

 

[Cosmo]

Big Loss Krew
Turn 1
Twist

Watching snotlings try to tinker was a lot like watching a human toddler playing with toy blocks. They didn't really understand what they were doing, nor the true purpose of it all, but they shove them into the holes that seem to work, even if it doesn't always fit, or they stack them on top of each other, or bash them together, or simply waddle away after growing bored with them to find something else to poke, grab, bash or otherwise muck about with. So it was here, they had no real plan, no real designs in mind, they just grabbed random scraps from the pile and tried to place them on the wagon. Sometimes they stayed. Sometimes they fell right off. Sometimes they stayed for a few seconds but then fell off when they hit a particularly large bump. It was a 'survival of what snotling was in charge of the nails the fittest'.

Still, through this chaotic trial and error [where nothing was actually learned, so it was simply what survived the trial], some of the tinkerings seem to have 'taken hold', and by that, it just hasn't fallen off yet.

Decision
Pick One
Xtra Armor
Random metal plates, most of them actual dinner plates, have been nailed, stuck or glued [often with snot or other fluids] to various parts of the pump wagon. This should provide.... some protection[?].

Stabliza
The 'stabliza' is just a large spring they have fitted under the seats. These 'springs' don't do any stabilization at all, but the person in the seat sure has a great time as they bounce around! Somehow this makes their aim better {Bonus when firing out of firing ports} WARNING: Damage to spring may cause extreme ejection

Da Scoopa [Hard Point Weapon]
A large metal scoop is attached to the side of the wagon. It is 'controlled' by a snotling and used to... scoop. Can be used to scoop up scrap or loot during a drive by or to give someone a really nasty donk.

---

As the lads were pumpin', pump, pump, PUMP IT UP, they were kruzin' along the open fields when they spotted some buildings far off! Some... Humie buildings, maybe? Probably? After a good brain picking, Pick was certain [probably] that it was humies! He couldn't see much from the distance, but he was sure, right there, in the middle of the village, was a big ol' pile of scape, all shiny and chrome, right there in the middle. In the open. Waiting for them...

Decision
1. PUMP AND SNATCH! {drive by, try to grab some without stopping}
2. PUMP AND GRAB! {drive into town, grab all you can carry}
3. PUMP AND PUMP {Drive through town, run over the scrap, do a sick jump}
4. PUMP, PUMP, PUMP, NO MORE HITTING {Nope, pump away, something waiting to krump them in there}​

 

[deer]

Shiyama Xiùlán

Weapons skill

36

Ballistic

29

Strength

35

Toughness

40

Agility

31

Intelligence

33

Willpower

37

Fellowship

35

Actions

1. Explore the land to gather intel and resources for setting up a base.​

2. Seek restless spirits and guide them to rest.​

Free Action: Study one of the books to uncover hidden knowledge​

THE BEGINNING.
"Xiùlán! Bà!" A wailing voice cried at her side. Xiùlán stood silently, tears threatening to spill, gathering at the corners of her eyes. But the tears never dropped. Her gaze steadied, hardening as it fixed on the wall above General Feng Rui's deathbed. She willed herself away from the sorrow of her lady-in-waiting.

He was the first spirit she struggled to release. Yanxi looked pitiful with her cracked lips and hoarse voice, her frail hands tugging at her sleeves. She begged Xiùlán to carry out her final wishes, to act as the bridge of goodbye between father and daughter.

THE TURNING POINT.
Years had passed, and the outing was like any other day—unremarkable, routine. Until the ground beneath her split open. She and Yanxi found themselves dangling over a cliff, suspended between earth and sky. The weight was too much; it couldn’t hold them both.

After a moment, Yanxi stopped struggling, closest to the drop. She looked up at Xiùlán, her expression softening into a smile. “Don’t struggle, Xiùlán. Smile. No regrets, remember? This is my choice. I’ll be with him again.” And before Xiùlán could say anything, Yanxi’s fingers slipped away, releasing her hand.

THE PRESENT.
Note: They are speaking Riekspiel
“Aye, ‘bout time we’re ‘ere, lass.” The gruff voice cracked the silence, pulling Xiùlán back from an encapsulated distance, her glossed-over eyes focusing once more. Brokk recognized that part of her was still far away, but he’d been promised an adventure that might also finally fill the quiet void he sensed within her.

Her gaze returned to Brokk, wordlessly nodding before drifting toward Yŭxuān, fixating on the bandage at her neck. The rhythmic drumming of the horse's hooves against the ground and the turning of the wagon's wheels filled her ears. She awaited, with a berated breath, for someone to fuss over her silence, but none came. It was deafening yet strangely soothing.

Xiùlán sensed the twirling energy of the markings etched within her skin, a light glow emitting.

"That," Yŭxuān called over her shoulder, eyes still on the road, "we need to keep inconspicuous. Unwarranted attention, especially in unknown terrain, is a call for trouble, as you may have guessed, Lady Xiùlán."

"Yes," Xiùlán agreed. "However, we need to gather more resources and seek information about the land."

Yŭxuān's ears perked at the prospect, a grin etched across her lips. "We need more coin, as well."

Brokk let out a hearty laugh. "'Dat's the spirit. Now 'ere, we're getting somewhere."

codebydeer​

 

[Cosmo]

Verg Roteater
Turn 1
Mechking

It was rather hard to say what a troll would find all that interesting in a village, as far as it 'loot' was concerned. For most trolls, it was a simple matter of gathering up anything that seemed interesting, smelt nice, or was 'shiny', to which they would gather it up into a large pile within their cave or den and spend a lot of time sleeping, defecating and otherwise marking it and forgetting they even had it in the first place... So it was with Verg. Much of what they had was picked over and left behind because it didn't interest him. Much of the food was ignored because it wasn't ripened to Verg's liking {it wasn't covered in maggots and had flies buzzing all over it}. Much of the clothing, equipment and other such things were also ignored for lack of understanding of what they did or a simple uncaring or inability to ponder what they did in any real depth. Some things did catch his eye though and those were gathered, although where Verg planned to keep it on the move was... a question best left unanswered much left unasked.

Among those he found was a strange square objected that smelt funny [book], many blocks of a beautiful white stone and a helm with a large feathered plume that tickled his nose whenever he tried to smell it.

Gain
3 Units of Living Marble
Unknown square object that smells funny [book]
Plumed helm

[You didn't gain any 'gold', this is because the village didn't have enough coin to be relevant and the goods that normally would qualify as being resources and so 'count as', Verg passed over]

------

Onwards into the Pox Covered Fields

His last voyage into a village had gone well! He had managed to poison and kill the entire thing just by being around him! Which certainly said something about his hygiene, and only the best of things, of course. As he walked through the swamplands, Verg picked up random plants and muck, shoving them in his mouth, savoring them, sometimes deciding they weren't good at all and spitting them out, mostly based entirely on nothing, and othertimes he got distracted by a bird or other sound and forgot what he was doing as the muck slowly slid down his throat into his gullet...

Gain Ingredients
Swamp Muck
2 Units of Blood Vine
1 Unit of Rosie Onion

--


Other bits and bobs got tossed into a large wicker basket he wore on his back, gathered from the village, with little care or regard as to what it would do or how he would use it. His, very small, mind was filled with wonderous visions of decay and rot, of humans skin wilting and withering to make it so succulent and tasty... Yes, he had learned that the small humans tasted best, and he could fit almost all of them in his mouth at once, which was a positive, because when the little bits and chunks fell to the ground, it was so hard to scoop them out to get them! Really, inconsiderate of the humans, if it was really thought about, to grow so large as to not be a proper mouthful.

So lost in his thoughts, the troll trudged along until something, slowly, pierced the dim skull of his... Reaching up to the side of his head, he felt a little stick in there. Huh. That was weird. He plucked it out to look at it, a little stick with a bit of metal on the end. How curious. As he examined it, something else stuck into his mind.. Reaching up again, he plucked out a second little stick with a bit of metal on the top. Where were these coming from?

Looking up and around, he noticed he was.... in a village. Right in the center. People were screaming and shouting, running too and fro, people with strange stringed wood were loading more of these things... Oh, right, they were called arrows, into their bows as others shouted to get some pitch and torches. Near the largest building was an old man standing near a group of four... These four seemed a bit different from the others. One was short and heavily muscled with bright orange fur, one was really shiny, kinda like the plumed helm. One had a hood over their head and a bow they were stringing another arrow on and the last was a man almost as old as the first in glittering robes... And they were coming right at him.

Decision Point
1. Get outta my swamp! Fight the adventuring party and militia
2. Back to the swamp! {Leg it}
​

 

[Cosmo]

The Laughing Dead
Turn 1
Eliasdagood

It was a fine day, to be at sea, far away from the land and the creatures that dwelled there. Sure, the ocean had its dangers, many of them, in fact, in some ways, it was far more dangerous and had monsters capable of swallowing his ship whole but it didn't have crazy blood sucking banshees and that was a vast improvement! Plus, there were few issues a dozen eight pounder cannons cannot fix! Plus every day was made better after he had a lovely meal, Dave tasted especially lovely today, truly what a good vintage, when it was accompanied by song! Strumming the lute upon the railing, he listened to the crew sing along with whatever shanty happened to fit the instrumental, sometimes, the songs were made up on the spot! Aye, yes, the life of a sailor was a good life for Jacob, and if he was cursed for immortality, this seemed like a decent enough way to spend it.

Luckily, the trip to Matorea was an easy one, as Jacob, himself, didn't have a ton of navigational experience but his crew did seem to know the general heading to get there [WARNING! In future turns, travel at sea will require navigational checks! So be sure to do what you can to stack buffs to that. Turn 1 I've hand waved it for you and our other boat friend {so you can get things done with relative safety}, but looking to ensure you have a good navigator is ideal!]

Matorea was a very large town, bording on a city, with stone walls and a large port. The architecture was Tilean in nature, and Jacob almost felt at home, as his sloop entered the port to trade... he had things to buy if he was going to go whaling!

---

Action 2
Results Pending Post-Shopping​

 

[Cosmo]

Order of Silver
Turn 1
Dest

The journey was not a particularly long distance, but it was a harsh. Many of the refugees were injured and more then a few died on the way. Their injuries becoming infected or their strenght not allowing them to keep up. Hope was all but lost and most understood they were walking to their death as what town would take them in? They were too many, had too many soldiers... Most towns would see them as a threat, and even if they didn't, thousands of mouths to feed suddenly showing up on their doorstep would tax their capability and stockpiles too greatly. It would all but doom them come winter. Many of the stronger, more able bodied, men and women, especially those without families of their own, split off to go their own way. To appear as smaller parties to other towns and villages where they would appear less threatening although, in his heart, Kaiden knew many of them would turn to banditry and other such methods of survival. It seemed to be the sin of man, if the dead or the vile did not get them, their fellow humans did... In the end, their numbers had greatly dwindled from thousands to hundreds. They were blessed in that they were of such a size that most bandits and goblin parties did not see them as viable targets... At least, not directly. Many times the Order would hear shouts and screams at night only to come to an empty campfire, the civilians who were just there having been slain or taken by the night.. No matter how many patrols or watches they set up, they couldn't stop it. There was simply too many people, too much area, and not enough warriors to watch it all.. Soon, the screams in the night became almost common. Something that could even be ignored...

Food and water were becoming an issue, they did what they could for water, but there was not going to be enough. Many more would die before they got to Steyr.. But food, food they could do something about. Gideon led a hunting party into the plains and did not return for nearly a week. Many of the civilians grew worried about the hunters, but Kaiden and Alice were confident Gideon would return with something. Few people understood the wilds as well as Gideon and if he could sneak past an army of the dead into a necromancer's lair, he can walk the plains without falling into a pit. Their faith was rewarded as Gideon and some of the hunters returned only to grab some wagons and take them with them, it seems they had gathered quite the haul.

A few days later, they returned, the carts nearly overfulling with furs, horn and meat. Much of the meat was still raw and would need to be dried immediately, which they started to do by hanging them off the sides of the wagons while the rest was greedily devoured over the next few days, the feast is enough to, for the moment, bring back up their morale and restore some semblance of hope. Morale is Stabilized.. For now

The sheer amount of furs and horns they've gained, once its all piled up, is enough to net 35 Gold {In resource}

Gideon, himself, also returns with a small creature in his arms, pressed against his barrel chest... I seems he has gained some sort of pet, but what was it?

Pick One
1. Dire Wolf Pup
2. Cave Bear Cub
3. Great Eagle Fledgling
4. Gold {Prairie} Lion Cub

------

The Order walks through the crowds, passing by those too old to be able to join, and approach men and women of fighting age, or the young close enough to become one shortly, and present the Orb of Celeste to each one. Hundreds of times this action is repeated, but twenty-three times the orb glows to show magic potential, a rather surprising amount considering how rare magic was... OF course, the potential in each of them was untested, so how many of them could become true spellblades and how many would be resorted to petty magic was unknown, but it was a promising start...

Gain 23 Initiates

.......


They arrived to Steyr to find the gates closed and barred, the walls lined with militia with bows at the ready to fire upon them should they get too close. It seems their arrival had been scouted out, made sense, they were a massive refugee column, it would have been impossible to hide their travels and approach. Should they really be surprised to find closed gates? Most towns simply could not afford to feed this many people, not on short notice like this, and even if they could, the supplies would quickly run out by winter... There was also likely the fear that the Order and the survivors of Alsfeld may attempt to take Steyr by force, to gain a new home and supplies to starve off death. It was not an uncommon story in the Princes, one village fell so they tricked their neighbors and took their land to start again.

Envoys go back and forth as the demands of Steyr, led by a 'Baron Müller' are given. The eldery, the sick and the children would be allowed to enter, but without weapons. The men and women would need to remain outside the gates until their intentions could be truly known... and it was very likely the offer to allow their sick and young to enter was so that they'd have hostages should the Order and the people of Alsfeld prove untrustworthy. The people of Alsfeld could enter the city, during the day, for trade but only if they disarmed at the gate and then left by nightfall. The guard captain, Chloé Aicart, would keep close eye and records on who entered and left to ensured this was followed and obeyed. Finally, a local priest of ulric, Albrecht Weber, offers to visit the refugees to bring what donated food and clothing he can to help the people in this trying time and to hold prayer with them to ask for Ulric's guidance and vigil.

Does the Order agree to these terms and allow the priest his prayers and accept his aid?


​

 

[Cosmo]

Koar and Ekol-ekoatl
Turn 1
LucasGhost

Ekol prays to Topek, praying towards the rising sun in this new, strange land, a small effigy hastily set up by stacking some stones and doing a crude carving into them of the great winged serpent. Many, but not all, of the other Saurus form a circle around Ekol as he prays, offering a deep guttural rumble from their fanged maws that pushes his prayers higher.. As the orange dawn rises, there is a single momentary flash of purple, as the small carving before him lights up before it explodes into glittering dust that settles into his skills, into his snout, into his lungs. Breathing it in, Ekol feels his mind expand as the great serpent touches it...

Gain 2 Spells
{You must take Wings of Heaven as one as you used it in your second action}
You may pick from existing spells offered or I can generate new ones for you [2 as you only get to 'pick' 1]

Scouting!
If they were to truly begin their great project, and find this lost temple, they would need supplies and support. The only way there were getting that was with a port from which more could be brought in... Although it would be a real shame if they needed to bring support in by sea but someone unleashed some giant monster to prowl the local waters for the next few seasons.... But what are the odds that happened? They could build one... if they had supplies, but their shipwreck removed that as an option. They simply had nothing to build with as the broken and fractured timbers of their ship were hardly suitable and the open plains near the beach was not exactly tree abundant {nor did they have the tools or time to properly cut and age the timber}.

The only real option was to find a warmblood port and take it for themselves. Saurus were not exactly the most suitable of creatures, they were the hammer of the Old Ones, meant to smash problems until they fixed or were no longer problems, as the only skink around, it was up to Ekol to shoulder such delicate tasks.. But Topek had greatly blessed the young skink, not just his spawnings, but with a touch of his power. Calling upon the great winged serpent, large rainbow feathered wings sprung from his back, each feather was magnificent and varied. One would be red and blue with streaks of golden yellow flowing through it while the next was forest green with veins of crimson.. It was a suitable pair for the feathered Ekol whose great mane inspired jealousy in other priest of Topek. Following his wings, with a deep breath, Ekol detached his spirit from his mortal form. His body stood for a moment and then toppled over, but before it could impact the ground, Koar reached out and with a single claw the size of his torso, caught his small body before it smashed into the hard ground. His body secure, Ekol took off into the skies... taking only a few moments to enjoy the wind in his feathers and how his mane fluttered in the wind before he set off along the coast to find a port.

Discovered
Burning Village
Following a trail of black smoke, Ekol finds a village burning on the coast. Most of the houses and buildings are up in flames, screams can be picked up over the crackling embers as long lines of people are being dragged in chains. A single dock protrudes into the water where racks of smoked fish stand, likely meant more for fishing ships then trade ships, but it would work [well enough] for what Ekol wanted... At the dock is a dark ship with purple sails, emerging from the back is a strange curled piece of wood shaped like a scorpion tail. Along the deck, a few ballista can be spotted, racked with numerous bolts.. Among the chained warmbloods, tall lithe figures with spiked dark armor can be seen laughing as they occasionally grapped one of the warmbloods and dragged them into a burning house before flinging them in. At the center of the slaughter, there is an armored figure sitting upon a throne of corpses, watching the display.. With a wave of his gauntlet, the slaves are marched towards the boat.

After circling the first location, Ekol plummetted from the sky as his spell ended, the ground came rushing up at him at frightening speed. Ekol closed his eyes, waiting for the pain of impact... but nothing. Opening them, his ghostly snout was against the undisturbed sand, but he was... fine. Shooting up to his feet, he looked around to ensure no one saw his spirit land before he scampered off to scout further.

Walled Village
The next village Ekol comes to is not burning, he can spot warmbloods moving about within, going about their day to day activites. A wooden palisade surrounds the village and goes a fair bit into the water before stopping {enough that anyone trying to swim around would be very obvious and sitting ducks to any guard waiting for them}. The village seems peaceful and quiet, a few large buildings although it was hard to say what they were, Ekol was not well versed in warmblood architecture. A single dock stuck out in the water that a small fishing dingie was currently tied to.

Crude Settlement
A small circle of crude fur tents and wooden 'huts' [if Ekol was being extremely generous with the term huts] sits a bit away from the shore. A massive fire burns at the middle of the circle with several smaller mounds of random gear and dung [often intermixed] littered about the huts and tents. A single crude dock extends into the water although nothing is docked there, Ekol is unsure how anyone could walk on that dock and not instantly snap it in two and plunge into the water. Green warmbloods wandering the camp, they are large and as musclebound as the Saurus, but wear leathers with large hulking hunks of metal. Smaller ones scurry around their ankles and tend a large wood barricade pasture where bouncing balls of meat and teeth roamed, often biting one another or gobbling up a small scurrying green warmblood in single bites.

You may diplo/attack one of the above.
​

 

[Cosmo]

Shiyama Xiùlán
Turn 1
deer

This land was.. and yet was not like her homeland. It was dry and arid, much like the western regions her favorite uncle ruled over, especially the barren wastelands and deserts further to the south. Yet it wasn't. There was something missing, the way the dirt crunched under her heels, the way the wind felt in her hair, how the sunlight hit her face, it was different. It being similar, yet different in a way she could not voice was a strange and disconcerting feeling. Was she truly going to explore these barbarian lands, far away from her homeland, to find her destiny? What if she never saw Cathay again? Did her grandsire approve of this or was she the weak link in the chain destined to bring her family lineage crashing down.. They were heavy burdens to bear if she was even bearing them. Perhaps none of this bothered her, free for the first time to make her own choices, able to extend her small efforts of control onto every aspect of her life.. She had stalwart traveling companions, even if Brokk often complained about how much bigger and more dangerous everything was 'in his day'. How a hill could have been twice as tall and deadly 'back in his day' was beyond Xiùlán as hills didn't often shrink in the span of a century, but who was she to deny the dwarf his grumbles?

The trio elected to do a bit of searching of the nearby areas, exploring caves, looking at plants and sand, touching trees and ignoring Brokk's grumbles about how the only good tree is when its a log in the campfire.. Xiùlán wasn't quite sure what she was looking for, she was new to the land and was a bit sheltered when it came to examining rocks for metal {her family had people for such menial tasks}, but Yŭxuān and Brokk made up for it. Yŭxuān had been a caravan master, and hand before that, for most of her life. She was used to traveling and 'making due' with what she could find and she was well versed in medicinal herbs and foraging. Brokk was a stout dawi and so was superior to manlings in all things {or so he said} and had an eagle eye for mineral and rock, able to spot the slightest distortion in the ground that neither of the others could see even when he pointed it out.

However, regardless of what they find, there is only three of them and so their ability to gather is limited {but carrying is not an issue as you have a wagon}.

Pick One
1. Ore/Stone/Gems {We will roll the rarity}
2. Medicinal Herbs {We will roll the rarity}
3. Pelts {We will roll the rarity}

Ain't Afraid Of No Ghost

Xiùlán may have left home behind, but her celestial mandate, her task given down to her from parent to child, all the way back to their grandsire, remained. Care for those who have not yet departed from this realm. As they make their way through the land, she quickly finds that this land has no shortage of death and sorrow, ghost are abound... Its harder to find somewhere that wasn't haunted or co-existed by spirits then it was to find some without, so she was adrift with choices

Pick One
Ruined Hamlet
This hamlet is a burned husk, nothing remains but burnt timbers and ash. Whatever goods were here are long gone, picked over a hundred times by scavengers. Something happened here, long ago, a great slaughter, and the souls of most of the people remain as ghost, reliving their final moments of pain and terror. Put them to rest so they may finally find peace.

Passed Intelligence
Ghost are harmless. They can be scary, especially to the unaware, but they cannot physically hurt anyone no matter what the mind says. They can cause people to become 'stiff' with fear, unable to move, paralyzed for a short time, this often happens when someone is resting and just woke up {sleep paralysis}, but these ghost are no direct threat, just souls in need of help.

Haunted Tavern
Within the small village of Goslar, there is a large stone inn that has been renovated a dozen times over the centuries. Made, as Brokk proudly says, by his kin in the days of old it is now the site of merriment for the people of the village although Brokk is less then impressed with the 'shoddy' additions to the building. Recently, items have begun to move, tankards flung at patron's heads and some have been injured. The owner's husband even died the night before their arrival, screaming in his sleep as blue veins spread across his body and he tried to grab at something no one else can see... There is an angry spirit in this place.

Passed Intelligence
This is a Poltergeist. Poltergeist can be souls that wanted justice or revenge but never got it and so became corrupted by the desire, or they can be especially evil and vile souls who are clinging onto this world because they know that judgement awaits them in the next world. The power and danger of a Poltergeist varies based on its age and how rotten its soul is/has become. This poltergeist, if what they said is true, seems fairly powerful.... Although it is strange that it is only now acting out. Most poltergeist remain in one location, so either it has been moved here, somehow, or it just appeared. Either seem odd.

Old Tower
On the outskirts of Goslar is an old ruined tower built long ago, but not as long ago as that tavern. The locals say it is a dark place, and any that have gone there have never returned. A drunken man claims he once saw a hooded figure, floating... Like Morr himself before it looked at him and pointed, a chill gripped his chest like Ulric himself was holding his heart before the figure floated through a wall.

Passed Intelligence
If what the man said is true, a Wraith his inside. What the men of the Empire refer to as a 'Cairn Wraith'. These are the souls of sorcerers and wizards who attempted to become immortal but succeeded only in preserving their souls as their bodies wilted and withered around it. Cairn Wraiths are 'intelligent', they are not as smart as they used to be, much of the old intelligence replaced by cruelty and a sadistic need to torment, but they know what they are, where they are, and what they are doing... but mercifully, they can no loner control the winds {no magic}. Wraiths are immensely powerful and dangers.

Passed by 3+ Degrees
Fighting a Cairn Wraith, as you are right now, with the gear you have, is certain death.​

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

Illumbe Rodrigo Alejandro Desidero Figueroa
TURN 2

He's used to it at this point- waking up to the rising moon, with Cagliari's unimpressed gaze the very first thing he sees emerging from his tent. Sometimes he wondered if she ever actually slept at all, day or night. Though there was something a little different about it as well. Ever since he finally tracked down Antonia, a month ago, she'd been squinting at him, like she was trying to unravel some demented inventor's puzzle box. Only a little less when she knew he was looking. Illumbe tried not to notice it. He goes about his daily- nightly, he remembered. It was nightly routine, now. Now and forever, until he was, at last, dust.

Illumbe looks up to the top of the hill, where the last rays of sun are fading. There's a temptation to run up there and try to catch a glimpse of the sunset before it's gone. He'd learned from the first time, though. Even the smallest of rays hurt like nothing else. Worse, somehow, than the hunger.

At least this existence had its little pleasures. The moon was beautiful in this light- he could see it so much more clearly now than he ever could as a human. The sound of the forest's nocturnal creatures awakening was his morning birdsong- the hoots of owls, chittering of bats. He's just sitting, taking a long breath, when Cagliari finally speaks. Illumbe looks to her, an unreadable expression in his eyes, as she walks around him, clicking her tongue and tapping her pen upon her wooden slate in thought.

"What are you thinking?" Her voice is half pointed question, half muttered as if meant for her ears alone. "You haven't walked into the sun yet, so you're not one of those kind of newly blooded. Those off themselves in a month at most, and I'd be home by now. But you half-starve yourself with the oddest of codes. Even the most stringent of us are smarter with the standards they adopt."

Cagliari tilts her head, her gaze dancing with questions, as she turns her attention on the neonate.

"And then there's the little things. The business with the children. The church. I'd ask if you'd gone insane, but you're too consistent about it. What are you planning with your assignment?"

Illumbe doesn't answer for a long moment, as he looks from her to up at the silver moon.

"... I'm... what I am, I suppose. "

A coward. Too scared to face Morr. To scared to abandon everything that made him a man. Left stranded between both.

"And, well, I'm a Blood Knight, no? To seek a worthy challenge. That's the whole point. So now I'll take her measure, and see what I can make of an opponent such as this. I'll go on like this for the rest of my unlife. Fighting. Until the day I can slake it in truth, or die trying."

There must have been something in his words, because Cagliari stops. The beautiful woman scrunches up her face a bit. She tosses something towards him, and he catches it on instinct- finding in his hand a bottle. One of her bottles.

"Drink."

He looks at her for a long moment, before his thirst gets the better of his sense, and he pours the sticky, crimson liquid down his throat. He pours. And pours. And, to his shock, Illumbe finds that he's still thirsty. The taste is as sweet as ever. But it's not enough. It's not making him full. And Illumbe understands. This wasn't helping him in defiance of the Count- drinking this would never have helped him at all.

"It's a joke for newbloods," Cagliari says wryly. "from my days as Lahmian. A bit of a pretentious metaphor. We drink and drink, the finest we can find, and we'll never be quite be sated. Not unless we achieve Abhorash's ascension or find our True Deaths. This..."

She grows a rare smirk on her face, suppressing a laugh at the look on Illumbe's face.

"This is just removing the illusion."

Illumbe manages to stop himself. It wasn't truly feeding, anyway. He holds it out in the moonlight so that he can read the label. Neferata's Special. The Estalian considers Cagliari's words for a moment, and to his own surprise... He smiles. He offers the bottle back to Cagliari, grinning in turn. Somehow, against all odds... It was pretty funny.

"Shall we a drink together, then?"

There's a *crack* as she flicks his forehead, the grin never leaving Cagliari's face. Illumbe's head snaps back, but even as it does, he can feel the tendons and bones of his neck shifting as they mend tears and hairline cracks. He grabs the sides of his head as he helps guide it back into its proper place.

"Careful, Illumbe. Just because you have an actual sense of humor, doesn't mean you can get too familiar."

She takes a seat on a stone, snorting.

"You've already gotten your filthy little mitts all over it. I shall enjoy the moonlight, you get to drink it. For all the good it'll do you." She smiles.

Illumbe takes a longing look at the bottle of blood. Temptation and sense warring in his mind. Memories of long nights spent drinking echoing from his mortal life. Then, he sets the bottle down.

"I think," he says thoughtfully, "I shall enjoy the moonlight."

Cagliari hums as she considers the gesture, pensive for a moment. She adjusts her glasses with a slow, deliberate motion, before baring her teeth in a strange sort of smile.

"Plus."

---

1. Trail Antonia Conti as she goes to face Amalia Bloodfist, and search for Amalia's location. Once done, he will (hopefully) be able to get together with her for a night hunt on Amalia's band of bandits. From there... We'll see.

2. It is rumored that the Strigany harbor vampires and undead- and while he's muddled through somehow so far, he needs a way to travel with substantive protection from the sun... and allies. He's going to seek out a group of Strigany to see if he can't make contacts and friends. Maybe even score a helpful guide to the region. If nothing else, somewhere to sleep during the day that is firmly safe would be nice.

 

[Trektek]

The Border Princes

Lord Dukeovitch DeathHammer

Turn 2

Blasted Umi. Can’t they build anything up to Dawi standards? But of course they can’t. Dukeovitch kicked one of the Umi from an underperforming group, taking his frustrations out on the man before his untimely demise would involve him, being fed to the daemon that inhabited his armor.

As the slave lay doubled over on the ground, Dukeovitch placed his hands behind his back and began to pace around the room. Each step punctuated by the heavy footfalls, clanking of metals, hissing of steam and of course, the raging of the daemon lodged inside.

It was time to start setting up operations. He already had two orders ready to roll from his new forge. But he would have to do more to spread the word, soon enough. He needed more slaves after all. The attrition rate alone was going to be a problem soon enough if he wasn’t at least a little bit careful.

The Lord had wanted to get the lumber yard up and running again. However, the priority was more slaves first. If he ran out, he’d be deemed a failure and he would have to fight his armor, a prospect that he was not looking forward to if it came to that. He liked his armor, to a point. The Daemon locked inside was a part of his pride and joy that singled him out from all his kin. He would NOT let that become a failure point and abject lesson.

He would have to put out word for bounty hunters to begin acquisition of slaves. He had coin. Perhaps it was time to use it.

Action 1: Reforge the broken armor and begin crafting waiting player orders
Action 2: Hire Bounty Hunters to acquire groups of slaves. Half pay up front. Second half at time of dropoff. Extra payout for larger numbers of gathered slaves/ that are in good condition.

 

[CaptainSully]

Krull Skulltaker​

Turn II​

_____________________​

A challenge sent and it's offer received, only one victor would be decreed.
Would it be the Knight of Black Bear? Or would Krull’s axe rip and tear?
Johannes began with sleek skill but without his axe how would Krull kill?
The giant tank reached out for his tool, the Bear struck but armour made him a fool.
With axe in hand Krull swung with all his might, in one swift motion ending the fight.
Short and sweet was the duel but for onlookers the bears death was most cruel.
They stood with bated breath, would Krull honour his promise at the bears death?
Soon a sigh of relief and feeling of woe, as Krull disappeared to search his next foe.

-- Archibald “Archie” Holkvist - 13th Bard of Kreutzhafen​

_____________________​

The skull had been cleansed of all flesh and blood, leaving an ivory icon to mark the warriors success against the Black Bear. His foe had surprised him, disarming him easily within a blink of their duel starting. Yet Krull knew those of the Empire had tricks and skills that they trained for since birth. Krull on the other hand was simply used to hitting things until they died. As it stood, that tactic had worked for his first duel of the Border Princes.

A vicious uppercut with his massive axe split his foe in two, a violent and gruesome end for the Bear, a man who's attitude and cockiness certainly played into his downfall. Krull was grateful for the man's willingness to fight but now he had a taste for it. Luckily for him he crossed paths with the Dawi and what soon followed was a duel against one of the daemons of excess.

Krull did not know what to expect of the lithe creature before him, he could only feel himself growing sluggish in the presence of such a creature. The foul vapours would not stop Krull however, his vicious assault with his greataxe smashed through the pathetic defences of his foe, proving himself further in the eyes of the Blood God.

Now Krull stood before his five brothers, warriors as ferocious and dangerous as he. Until Khorne blessed him with a new vision, he would train hard and further his capabilities. He would do all in his power to ensure he was a match for any opponent in the land. He was determined to be a weapon of his deity for as long as he drew breath.

_____________________​

⦿ Actions:

• Fate:

•Regain 1 for new turn - 2/2​

• Free Action:

•Receive crafted weapon from Deathhammer.​

• Action 1:

•Train/Spar with his five accompanying warriors in an attempt to improve, learn and create new combat skills and techniques.[Warriors are 51 WS versus Krulls 41 WS, Krull is 3 attacks versus 1 and also Krull recently witnessed the disarm technique].​

• Action 2:

•Pray to Khorne to find his followers within the Border Princes whether, human, chaos warriors, Beastmen or otherwise. Find them and bring them under his command, even if it means killing whoever their leader is.​

 

[Abstracty]

Turn 2
Leifr Olfsson - The Trickster, The Ironside, The Beloved, The Tide Caller



"Yarr, there she blows!", Leifrs speaks out loud, causing Astrid to swiftly retreat from under his furs and slap him angrily. The Norscan laughs heartily and shoos her away, but she gets a good kick on his shin before he can do so. Unperterped by his slight limp, the Norscan soon joins the rest of his crew by the beach, where most are eager to leave the strange island. Well aware of how less blessed men often tremble before divine omens, Leifr hoists his trident into the air to silence the superstitious grumbling in the back. "You set loose a bloody monster!", one of the Sarler blurts out and Leifr grins. "Aye! I do so every morning!", he replies with a dirty grin towards Astrid, who looks ready to take his kneecaps clean off. "But this monster you speak of, it is a great messenger of the Stormfather! It shall not harm us, for I am the Gods Beloved! The Tide Caller!", there is no doubt about Olfsson actually believing firmly in his own grandeur. "Let us set sail, brothers and sisters! The sea calls for us and so does our fate!", he quickly finishes his speech, marching to the longships bow and lifting the trident high. "We only need to do some small renovations before we leave.", he grins.

With the golden trident affixed neatly into the figure heads right hand, the longship Milkmaid soon crashes trough the seas again. Wild winds already brew fresh storms and more than once can they see a group of fishmen leave towards other shores. But as Leifr wagered, their vessel is left alone by Mananns sons and daughters for now. "So... we kill whoever is left behind by the Mrrgl... Mnglmbr...", Erik Flamecaller tries to ask, but his failure to pronounce the name correctly causes Leifr to snarl back. "The mighty Mrrglrlrlrmgrrr! And we will not slay them. Not them. Or do you think it wise to anger the Stormfather after all?", his voice quickly takes an arrogant and somewhat joking tone again and Erik shrugs. "No.", he simply replies, but stares at the sea ponderous for a while. "Come on, spit it out.", the captain soon demands and the bondsman looks towards Sadako, who is busy distributing fishy ration amongst the crew, encouraging them to eat well in her strange language and pinching cheeks or patting heads if there is good compliance. "Hah, she still frightens you?", Leifr quips and Erik huffs. "Nothing frightens me. Just... its just strange, innit? So strange...", he mutters and Leifr turns away from the sea to look at him with some pity. Placing his hand on Eriks shoulder, Leifr smiles. "Oh, it is about to get a whole lot stranger.", his wicked promise is made unnecessarily sinister.


As the waves crash against the rocks, the Sarler struggle and fight against wind and sea. Strong men pull at ropes already soaked by salty seawater, as they reel in another pile of debris. Leifr is at the forefront of their endeavor, barking orders or helping muscle something wet and heavy around until another wreck is cleared. Looking onto deck, the men are exhausted and so the ship is soon brought to safer shores. "Thats that reef done... the beast has done a number on the ships here...", the hunter Henri Henrison assessed. "Aye. Better we follow along the coast now, probably not many who are stupid enough to sail now without the Stormfathers blessing. But the beast will have smashed some against the shore.", Leifr concludes and Henri sighs. "Right then... I will just ask... there is a bigger picture here, what is it?", the hunter demands and Leifr raises his chin with pride. "Of course there is. And it will be revealed soon enough. We won't be scavenging for much longer. Make sure your arrows are ready."

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

For this turn, Leifr turns his worship towards the Eagle.

Action 1: The Norscans will follow the trail of destruction left by the mighty Mrrglrlrlrmgrrr to plunder what it leaves behind. They will scavenge ship wrecks for loot, food, weapons, trade goods, valuables, whatever. Any survivors will be rescued from drowning, as it is a tenet of Manann to rescue those in peril at sea. Perhaps it will also entertain the Eagle to see these folks fate twisted twice in short time (brought to near death by the leviathan, rescued by Norscans of all people).

Action 2: A great sacrifice to the Eagle is held. The Norscans raid another village or perhaps a group of refugees fleeing from the coast. They will be sacrificed to the Eagle, Leifr encourages his men to get wickedly creative with it. Depending on what is found during Action 1, there might be additional sacrifice. He prays for some deeper understanding of his fate in these lands and his path to power. And power. Always like some extra power. (Also tries to cheekily peep if the Eagle likes the rescuing or the killing more).

 

[palmtree219]

Shawk Skyshrieker

-Turn 2-

-Abandoned Village north of Vidovan-


Preparations... yes, yes... Much to do, much to do. Iron and oil, tunnels, progress! And a map... Warpstone deposit? Maybe. Worth checking? Yes!

Shawk experienced a full body shudder as he fingered a warp token, staring at it with hunger and desire. But no, it was not his to eat this time. An experiment was necessary. His eyes twitched to the right, locking onto a skavenslave taking a break from mining out a warren tunnel. "You-you! No break!" He screeched, skitter-stomping over to the rat. "If rat-thing has time to rest, rat-thing has time to science! Take-grab! And follow! If you eat this, I-me will rip it from your corpse!" The warlock-engineer shoved the warpstone token into the slave rat's hands, then turned and led the terrified skaven over to his temporary work area.

With a quick shouted order, another skavenslave ran over and moved a casket of lamp oil off into an empty part of the chamber, far from anything else of value. Then, Shawk himself placed an ingot of the mysterious red jelly-ingot on a flat rock next to the casket. He quickly skittered back to the drafted slave rat. "See-see oil? Grind the token to dust! Then open the casket and pour-mix the warpstone dust inside! If you live, come back and grab second token. Grind, then sprinkle on red metal bar-thing. Don't waste! If you spill warpstone dust, I spill your empty-useless brain!

Shawk quickly shuffled behind the nearest rock large enough to hide him, peeking out to watch the experiment. There were many more things to do. Following the map being one of them. But for now, science must be carried out.

​

---

ACTIONS

1) Trade/Crafting: Combine 1 warp token with 1 casket of lamp oil, Combine 1 warp token with 1 ingot of unknown metal, Trade warp stone tokens and 50% of mine output to clan-home in return for soldiers. (+under-empire tunnel connection)

2) Search-hunt for waiting-thing on the map. Bring rattling gunner and 8 jezzail teams, as well as 50 skavenslaves. If the lamp oil experiment didn't spontaneously combust, bring that casket as well.​

 

[Twist]

Turn 2

Jingle allowed himself a pause, strumming his fiddle to the clapping of a few of his audience. Almost ten strong now, the sun still lent some of its strength to his show. Hopeful to garner more watchers, Jingle mused, another verse rolling off his tongue like the soft, sweet filling of a fruit pie.
View attachment 1190919

"Finding a village,
To which our Snotlings did pillage,
Full of tall folk,
Who all got a poke.
The Big Loss took a few laps,
To gather the scraps.
Before disappearing,
For dumb engineering.."

Tilliam looked to his audience with an endearing smile, strumming away. "So our big thinker?
What did he tinker?"

"A big scoop, like a ladel!" shouted the woman from earlier, her arm still entangled with her husband's

"He covered it in plates" laughed a lady with long hair.

"Springs under his seat!" giggled a little boy, jumping up and down as he spoke.

The bard deliberated, scrunching his face as he decided which to choose. His fingers slowed on the fiddle, their pace increasing as he came to a decision.

"Through trial and error,
As none were clever,
The villagers plates were nailed, stuck and glued,
The Big Loss needing armour for it's Snotling crew.

With their Plate armour applied,
It was time for a ride.
Cruising the fields they spotted a trove,
All shiny and chrome,

But our stupid crew had nary a plan,
Deciding instead to drive it off land,
With a pump, pump, pump,
They went full speed into a jump."

He slowed his fiddling, letting his narrative come to the forefront, his playing accentuating the mood and flow of it.

"The leap so absurd,
they looked like a bird.
And with such a view,
They saw something askew.

Shimmering treasure,
Monsters being clever,
The hoard was a trap,
Led by a purple haired chap.

Well our dodgy geezers,
Were certainly pleased as,
The Big Loss landed with a crash and bang,
Continuing it's adventure through the Border Land"
​

Actions
1. Tinkerin!
2. PUMP IT! Find Loot and Scrap. PUMP IT! PUMP IT! Kunnin Brutal! Sneaky Stealin!

 

[LadyOfStars]

Veer'nan

Turn 2​

The Centaur Slain

Boisterous, arrogant, and inebriated, the centaur proved an easy target, but a pleasant warm up for their first hunt in these chaotic lands. His herd was routed and their tracks would likely lead back to whatever master they served or perhaps even a herdstone. But first the elves needed to rest, to tend to their wounds, and to eat.

Veer'nan's hunting didn't end with the beastmen, no, while his people recovered he roamed these unfamiliar woods for game and was triumphant. Hunting outside of Athel Loren was not too different, in fact he relished the lack of decent competition. Feeding thirty soldiers would be more difficult if skilled hunters were prowling the same territory.

As the fires burned and the soldiers filled their bellies, Veer'nan joined Guy in his tent. "I was advised to stay off my feet while I recover, but I ensured to place sentries around the camp, Sir." The Warden explained as he attempted to sit up in his thin bedroll.

"I came not to scold you or inquire about your duties." The green-haired elf assured the officer before he crouched down and started to inspect Guy's injuries. "You fought well today, in an ambush of all things. I should have seen them coming, but perhaps I was too cocky." Veer'nan set down a piece of freshly cocked meat wrapped in a large leaf. "Kurnous will not forget your bravery and skill during the fight. Nor will I. Now eat up and rest, we depart in the morning."

"SirI must protest. This plan is...risky." Guy attempted to explain further, but was cut off.
"There is too much to be done. If I go alone I'll be able to move faster and with greater stealth. Plus you'll need every hand to secure our place." He hefted his bow up on to his shoulder and spared one one final glance to the soldiers and Guy. "I don't care what becomes of the humans you may cross paths with, but it would be best not to make more enemies. So unless provoked, try not to kill and use whatever diplomacy you deem necessary to get the job done."
Under the cover of night, Veer'nan departed from the camp to track down their foes.

Setting Down Roots
By the time dawn broke on the camp site the Eternal Guard and Guy had already set out for the village that the beastmen destroyed. Veer'nan felt it was a prime location to establish their foothold here in the south. Because the village was destroyed and the people either dead, taken, or desperate, Veer'nan assumed they'd face little in the way of retaliation for claiming control of what remained.

---

Actions:

• Warden Guy and the Eternal guard return to Heldegard to secure it as a base of operations for Veer'nan's hunting party.
• Veer'nan will track the routed beastmen.