[X] While fostering true reconciliation is almost assuredly beyond you, it would be best to make sure that the townsfolk are satisfied with the the deaths of the direct perpetrators, and won't attempt to inflict further violence on the innocent mutants, less your mercy be rendered for not.
[X] With the local situation resolved and your injury hindering you, attempt to rally reinforcements from the local constabulary and dwarf clan to help you bring the sorceress behind these events to justice.
[X] Confiscate whatever goods you can from Etelka's tower to reward Josef, Max and Elvyra, as well as to provide recompense to all parties present. Burn anything, that's even remotely tainted.
-[X] While fostering true reconciliation is almost assuredly beyond you, it would be best to make sure that the townsfolk are satisfied with the the deaths of the direct perpetrators, and won't attempt to inflict further violence on the innocent mutants, less your mercy be rendered for not.
-[X] With the local situation resolved and your injury hindering you, attempt to rally reinforcements from the local constabulary and dwarf clan to help you bring the sorceress behind these events to justice.
This permits up to five other activities during the enforced rest. The following options had the most votes:
[X] Search Etelka's residence for information on the Red Crown with a particular eye towards what they could be attempting to do in the hills.
[X] While fostering true reconciliation is almost assuredly beyond you, it would be best to make sure that the townsfolk are satisfied with the the deaths of the direct perpetrators, and won't attempt to inflict further violence on the innocent mutants, less your mercy be rendered for not.
[X] With the local situation resolved and your injury hindering you, attempt to rally reinforcements from the local constabulary and dwarf clan to help you bring the sorceress behind these events to justice.
[X] Converse with Rolf regarding what he and his people plan to do from now on. See if there's something you can help them with.
[X] Converse with Max regarding your decision to spare these mutants.
XXXV - Lying in Wait
The thought of sitting idle while your quarry rides away burns at you like acid, but scarcely less welcome is the notion of confronting her and failing due to injuries disregarded in your haste. In the end the latter proves more daunting, and you make arrangements to stay in Black Peaks until your broken ribs have healed. You will attend to outstanding business, solidify the position and security of the mutants now under your wing, and if the gods are kind, you will be waiting for Etelka when she returns.
The first order of business is to address the boiling tensions in Grissenwald. Max fetches the horses from where you left them, and that very day you make your way back into town with the corpses of half a dozen mutant bandits tied up and slung across the backs of your steeds like lumpen saddlebags. Your ribs hurt too much to ride, but with Elvyra's aid and potent medication you are able to walk with the reins in hand and a living volunteer from the settlement at your side. His name is Leopold, and beneath the hood of a heavy oiled cloak his head has been twisted into that of an eagle, hooked beak and all. Together you present the corpses and your testimony to the authorities of Grissenwald, reminding watchman and reeve alike of the imperial edict which makes the settlement safe from any thoughts of further action.
The response is, generously, not the worst it could have been. Official charges against the dwarves are retracted and no move is made to crush the mutant enclave at Black Peaks, but the general attitude is perhaps a degree of two above freezing. From what you can gather the bad blood between the dwarves and humans of Grissenwald escalated into open fighting around the time you were observing the encampment, and by the time the violence stopped two humans and a dwarf were dead and several others seriously injured. The bad blood between the two groups is unlikely to be cleansed any time soon, and while neither seems intent on driving the mutants out of their encampment while you are there to oversee things, it is not lost on you just how much hateful resentment is in the stares directed Leopold's way.
Such a poor start is discouraging to be sure, but you console yourself with the fact that you have managed to prevent an outright pogrom and laid the foundations for future growth. You will not leave this matter half done. Having started down this path, it is your duty as a nobleman to see it through.
-/-
You spend a considerable portion of your first week's convalescence searching Etelka's residence from top to bottom, seeking any evidence of her capabilities or intent. Unfortunately there is not much to find; a few amulets marked with cult emblems, a collection of superficially benign letters with a member of the von Wittgenstein family, and a bafflingly large collection of fine clothing and elaborate jewellery. There are no grimoires, no ritual paraphernalia or dark treasures stamped with the sign of the ruinous powers, and no evidence regarding what might have drawn the witch and her companion towards the Barren Hills. You keep what you need for evidence and make a note to visit Castle von Wittgenstein after your current business is attended, but it seems that Etelka is one of those frustratingly competent adversaries who keeps anything truly incriminating far away from her residence. Questioning the mutants confirms that Etelka had a habit of taking small expeditions into the woods every few weeks, never being gone for more than a couple of days at a time or accompanied by more than a handful of her most faithful adherents. Unfortunately, without a guide of your own there is slim chance that you will be able to find her ritual grounds anytime soon.
Such a meagre result is disappointing, but it does at least give you a chance to speak with Rolf at some length. The lanky mutant seems to have adopted a position of authority among the mutants of Black Peaks roughly equivalent to an elder, having been involved in this enclave since it first started, and while his position is informal even a casual study is enough to demonstrate the high regard that the other mutants hold him in. One day, while comparing notes on possible locations for Etelka's hidden ritual site - far too many to practically winnow down with anything less than an army - you ask him about his plans for the future.
"Truth be, I don't rightly know," Rolf says thoughtfully, scratching his chin with one disconcertingly long arm, "There's wealth enough in Etelka's stash to get the village off to a proper start, more if we sell a few things from the tower… the real trick will be finding us someone willing to trade, and of them, someone that won't take us for every pfenning."
You nod, understanding the challenge immediately. That it is legal to be a mutant and by extension to do business with them means little if the merchants involved retain their old prejudices, and those who are sufficiently amoral to conduct such trade are almost by definition liable to be the worst kind of predatory scum imaginable. Fortunately, this is an dilemma that you have the tools to resolve.
"I can put you in touch with House Teugen of Bögenhafen," you offer, "They can be relied upon to supply anything you might need for a fair price."
"Teugen? I've heard of them," Rolf says slowly, looking you over with a speculative light in his eyes, "Can't say I'd trust them to be kind to folks like us most days, but seems you're more confident than most."
"The house and I have… an understanding," you say vaguely, trusting that the mutant will follow your meaning. It is generally poor form to speak of blackmail directly, even if performed in the name of justice. "If I instruct them to sell to you as they might any other, they will do so."
"Well now!" Rolf grins widely, folding his arms and bobbing his head like some strange waterfowl, "That sounds ideal. With a proper supplier we can turn Black Peaks into something worth calling home. Get some tools for the tradesmen, enough seeds and equipment to get the farms producing a surplus, maybe do a bit of logging…"
"Humble goals," you note, though in truth your grasp of numbers is shaky enough that you doubt you could speak with authority on such a budget.
"For you maybe, milord," Rolf says pointedly, "For most normal folks too, I reckon. But for folk like us? For folk like us, the idea of having a real home with real work and real options, a place we can be safe and share with them that truly understand… for folk like us, there's nothing humble about that at all."
You nod, conceding his point and hiding a smile at the enthusiasm. With one conversation you have given hope to the desperate and proven the worth of your choice, the virtue in man that Sigmar sought to protect. Truly, your decision to take House Teugen in hand is paying dividends.
-/-
Two weeks after the battle against Knud and his raiders, the dwarves of Grissenwald finally consent to a meeting. You had invited them to visit Black Peaks at first, to which they had replied with a demand for you to come to them, and in the end you'd settled on a negotiation held around a large flat rock roughly halfway between the town and the old mine. Of such compromises is diplomacy made.
The dwarven representative is the patriarch of the largest family among the populace, a staggeringly well muscled boulder of a dwarf by the name of Gorrim Greathammer. He sits on the far side of the stone table with a thunderous expression as you work your way through the formalities, stroking his thick red beard with one calloused hand as you introduce yourself and the mutants come to represent their settlement.
"You are squatters on rightful dwarven land, on stone that has belonged to the Greathammer clan since my grandfather's time," Gorrim says bluntly as soon as the introductions are over, his various associated sons, nephews and cousins nodding furiously behind him as he lays down his terms. "If you clear off now, and take not so much as a pebble with you, then we'll call it fairly done."
Rolf scoffs, clearly far from impressed, but he already agreed to let you take the lead on this matter as a mediator that the dwarves might respect.
"None are denying the past stewardship of the Greathammer line," you say evenly, feeling the weight of responsibility sit heavy on your shoulders, "Yet it was my understanding that you sold the land three years past."
"Under false pretenses," Gorrim scowls, looking up at you and jabbing an accusing finger towards the distant hills, "The witch Herzen knew she could never afford to pay what the land was worth, so she tricked us. Her magic hid the gold and the viable coal seams from view, made us think the land was tapped out and exhausted, and then when we were considering our options she came in and made her false offer."
"Gold?" Rolf says, raising his eyebrows and crossing his arms across a narrow chest, "There's no gold in Black Peaks. It's been three years, we'd have found it by now."
"If there wasn't something worth having in those hills, then the witch wouldn't have bought them," Gorrim scoffs, shaking his head at the foolishness of men, "That a bunch of twisted manling freaks couldn't find it means nothing, even if you do speak truth. Doubtless Herzen was waiting until we'd moved on and forgotten the matter before making her 'sudden discovery', but we're not so easily fooled!"
"A dwarf of your standing ought to have better manners," you say sharply before Rolf can spit a curse in turn. Gorrim just scowls, resolutely unwilling to apologise or admit wrongdoing, and in the end you decide to press on. "Whatever you might think, Master Greathammer, mere sentiment will not overturn the law or force these people from their homes. Another solution must be found."
"If I were a shiftless, irresolute manling, aye," Gorrim growls, entirely unmoving, "But I am a dwarf. We will stay and press our claims; against Herzen if we must, or you, now that you've declared her an outcast."
Markus makes an Average (+20) Lore (Law) check. Skill is 60, roll is 56, bare pass.
Markus makes an Average (+20) Intuition check. Skill is 75, roll is 79, bare failure.
You are far less confident in reading dwarf expressions than those of humans, and so you have no idea whether or not Gorrim sincerely believes that his clan were cheated out of their land by means of sorcery, but the law at least is clear. Once the contract is signed and witnessed the matter is done and cannot be repealed. If there was some breach of contract or other fraud committed there might be room for negotiation, but the dwarves do not deny that they sold the land to Herzen for the price that she paid, only that the price was fair; they have no legal recourse under even the most generous interpretation of the statutes. Nor, for that matter, do you honestly believe they should - mere regret is no grounds to unilaterally roll back a land purchase, even if the other party turned out to be a daemon worshipping witch.
Still, just because you have no sympathy for their opening position does not mean you will not bargain. Any arrangement that defuses the tensions and furthers the bonds of civilisation is virtuous in the eyes of Sigmar, and you are nothing (truly nothing) if not a faithful man.
"Master Rolf, are any of your people mine workers?" you ask after a moment's thought.
"Not as such, no," Rolf says with a frown, crossing his arms and giving you a skeptical look, "Farmers and foresters for the most part, a few tradesmen."
"Then I have a proposal," you nod, turning back towards the dwarves, "Clan Greathammer buys prospecting rights in the Bleak Peaks for a nominal fee, entitling them to perform such surveys and exploratory digs as necessary to verify whether Herzen truly did conceal viable deposits. Should any be found, they may be mined by the Clan in exchange for proportional fees paid to the inhabitants, at standard rates and terms."
You have no idea what those standard rates and terms might actually be, but they surely have to exist; there are too many mines operating across fiefdom lines for this to be anything other than a well trod area of legal precedent. The details matter less than the fact that such a possibility exists, which in turn provides the foundation for your real argument.
"Such an arrangement allows you to reclaim your wealth with less risk and less expense, establishing the foundation for later developments," you say firmly and sincerely, willing Gorrim to see reason, "Even should it be proven that Etelka Herzen deceived you, your grudge must surely be with her, not with the people of Grissenwald or of Black Peaks. When she returns I shall bring her to justice, and I would be honoured to count the mountain folk as my allies in that pursuit."
Markus makes a challenging (+0) charm test. Skill is 55, roll is 89. Fortune spent for reroll, 90. Major failure.
Gorrim Greathammer bristles angrily, his already ruddy skin flushing with outrage as he leaps to his feet. "Honoured? You'd be honoured, would you? You insult me and my clan with this farce of an offer and then claim you would be honoured if we bled in your place? Damn your offer, manling, and damn your compromises."
He spits on the ground then turns his back and walks away, his various associated kin and comrades falling in behind him. You stare after them in silent befuddlement for a moment, then force your mouth to close before you can look like an even greater idiot.
"Well, it was worth the attempt," Rolf sighs, rising from his own seat and moving back over to rejoin the other mutants who came with him. "Thank you for trying, my lord, but we'd best be getting back."
There doesn't seem to be nearly as much hard feeling behind his words as you might have expected, and your mood turns bleaker as understanding comes. None of the mutants expected negotiation to work, nor for the peoples of Grissenwald to accept them and their presence in any meaningful fashion, and they have been proven right. With a pained grimace you push yourself back to your feet as well, making your way back over to the side of the clearing where Max waits with your horse.
"You know," the legbreaker murmurs quietly as you approach, "We could just say anything the witch signed is null and void. Doubt there's many that would take up her cause, and it'd make the shorties happy. Ain't your cult meant to be all about that?"
"We are bidden by doctrine to honour our oaths and uphold the ancient alliance, not to give any given dwarf whatever they happen to want at that present moment," you grunt, hiding a wince at the thought of Max using that kind of term where anyone outside your immediate circle might hear. "Even if it were not so, I will not betray these people for mere political gain."
"Right, see, that's the other thing I don't get," Max says darkly, looking over the saddle he is currently adjusting to glare at Rolf and the others on the far side of the clearing, "Why'd you keep calling them people, acting like it matters? They're mutants."
There's too much hatred in that word alone to ignore, even if you wished to. "Max. You know the Emperor's edict…"
"Words on paper don't change the truth, boss, and you know it," Max growls, shaking his head disapprovingly, "And don't try pretending you're above it, either. I've seen you flinch more than once when one of them goes by, the looks you try to hide when they get too close. Part of you hates them as much as I do."
"Obviously," you say flatly, fixing your man with the sharpest glare you can muster, "I was raised a pious man, and the habits of a lifetime are not so easily broken. Yet I am noble and templar both; if there are any that ought to be held to a higher standard, expected to place the law and the service of the people above the qualms of their heart, it is men like me, and while that remains true I will neither betray these people or sanction any effort to do so. You will not speak of this again."
You do not think Max entirely understands, or that he is happy with your decision, but you have confidence that he will obey. For now that will have to be enough.
-/-
A month after your arrival in Grissenwald your ribs finally reach a point where you can move freely with comfort. There is still the odd twinge when you move too fast, the faint ghost of pain that haunts you at inopportune moments, but they are far from the first lingering mark of injuries sustained in this life. One day you will be like General Wälder, you suppose, confined to a wheelchair and carrying on as best you can despite the crippling pain of a lifetime of service… but not today.
With your injuries largely healed and no sign of your quarry returning you begin making preparations to depart. You settle all outstanding accounts with Rolf and the mutants, ensure that their trading ties with House Teugen will endure even after you take your eye off the situation, and begin arranging transport. Josef has long since departed, the business of the river carrying him off over the horizon after a few days in dock, but you don't imagine there will be any difficulties in arranging a replacement. The people of Grissenwald are positively eager to be rid of you.
Naturally, that is when it all starts going wrong.
You wake in the night to the sound of screaming, lurching out of the bed and grabbing your pistol from the table before your mind has even caught up to what your ears are hearing. Words that are half prayer and half curse spill from your lips as you stagger across to the window, peering out into the darkness beyond the tower with eyes still dull with sleep. There are dark shapes moving out there, the flickering points of light that suggest torches born aloft by people moving at some speed, but whence comes the screaming, the sounds of combat? By Sigmar, what is going on out there?
Markus makes an average (+20) perception roll. Skill is 75, roll is 62, success.
From the distant treeline emerges a blazing pillar of pink and blue, writhing serpents of unholy flame that eat the shadows any wholesome flame should cast. Even from this distance you can see the caster sat proud and high atop a strangely docile horse, her long blond hair fluttering wildly in the burning updraft of her spell. As her will the flame crawls across the sky like a strange parody of a comet, its light illuminating dozens of hulking humanoid forms that prowl and stalk and lope across the rough and broken ground, and when at last it crashes down again near the entrance to the mine the sound of screaming takes on a new and shriller note.
Beastmen. Etelka Herzen has returned, slipping past every net and agent placed in Grissenwald to warn of such a thing, and she has brought a tribe of beastmen with her.
"Sigmar damn her," you growl, lurching away from the window and grabbing for your armour. You've just about managed to get the leather leggings on and are pulling on your boots when the door crashes open and Max runs in, his face streaked with soot and his eyes wide. "Max. Good. Help me with my armour, and tell me what we know."
"Fuck all worth the name," Max says succinctly, grabbing your armoured coat from the rack by the door as you pull the chainmail on over your head, "Bitch didn't come in through Grissenwald, I'd swear to that, but how she crossed the river with that lot…"
"Dark sorcery, no doubt," you say grimly, holding your arms out while Max helps secure the buckles on your armour, "Very well. What of the others?"
"The mutants are falling back into the mines," Max says tersely, giving your armour a sharp tug to make sure it is going to stay on, "Most of the beasts are following them in, but chances are some of them will come sniffing around this tower soon enough. I locked the door, but the bitch probably has a key."
Exhaling slowly, you consider your options. From conversation with Rolf you know there are other routes out of the mines, but they are smaller and not so easily navigated, and chances are Etelka Herzen knows of them as well. Even if she does not, the beastmen are infamous for the ease with which they hunt and fight in the gloom of night. If they cannot hope to successfully flee, the best chance the mutants have is to band together and hold a defensive line at a narrow part of the tunnels, robbing the beastmen of the bulk of their numerical advantage and forcing Etelka to get closer if she wishes to employ her dark magic. You know Rolf has been keeping up the militia drills… but they are outnumbered by beastmen, and most of the settlement's truly experienced warriors died at your hand or left with Etelka in the first place. This is not a fight they are going to win.
(You spare a moment to curse the stubborn pride of the dwarves and the bitter myopia of men. Grissenwald would not garrison forces out here among the mutants, and even if they see the signs of combat and muster out immediately, it will take an hour or more for any relief to arrive. You will fight, and quite possibly die, alone.)
"Alright, you're good," Max grunts, tightening the last of your armour straps and taking up his own weapons once again, "What's the plan?"
Article:
Choose one
[ ] Reinforce the Mines You will break through the encircling beastmen and join Elvyra and the mutants in the mines. This will concentrate your forces in a single defensible location, but will also surrender all initiative and render you a clustered target for Etelka's spells, assuming she is willing to draw close enough to find line of sight.
[ ] Hold the Tower You and Max will remain within the witch's tower, firing from the windows and fending off those beasts that seek to break in. Your presence will take pressure off the mine's defenders, and it is likely that Etelka Herzen will not wish to burn her own home to the ground, but it will still be you and Max alone against anything the night might throw at you.
[ ] Sally Forth A counter charge will be the last thing the beastmen expect, and for good reason. You will be vastly outnumbered, surrounded and clearly visible, almost certain to die before accomplishing anything of note… but you might, just might, live long enough to reach the witch and strike Etelka Herzen down.
Note - Markus has recovered full health and healed his earlier critical injury. You do not know how many beastmen there are, or what kind. No reinforcements will reach you before this is already over.
"We need to regroup," you say decisively, "Whatever happens, I'll not leave Elvyra and the others to face it alone."
You half expect Max to object, either out of distaste for fighting alongside mutants or in favour of escaping now while you potentially still can, but he simply nods and falls in alongside. The two of you make your way back downstairs, navigating the spiral staircase at the heart of the tower with nerves stretched taut and ears sharp for any signs of movement, and take up position by the tower's only door.
"When I open the door, we run straight for the mine entrance," you say grimly, gripping the door handle and taking several deep breaths to steady yourself, "Don't slow for anything."
"Aye," Max growls, his eyes narrow and his fist white around the hilt of his sword, "Don't have to tell me twice. On three?"
"Indeed. Three, two, one… go!"
You throw open the door and leap out into the night, trusting in your memory to guide you where your night-blind eyes cannot. The world beyond the tower is a swirling maelstrom of shadow and flame, twisted forms looming out of the gloom in all directions only to fade again just as quickly, the shadowy outlines of houses and storerooms lit only by the flames that seek to consume them. You run with a prayer to Sigmar on your lips.
Markus tests Athletics! Skill is 26, roll is 11, success!
Max tests Athletics! Skill is 46, roll is 68, failure!
A frantic eternity later you reach the mine entrance, the tunnel opening looming before you like the maw of some great and terrible beast. To your relief it seems none of the beastmen have made it inside yet, and you are about to enter when you realise that Max isn't behind you. With the realisation comes the sound of bestial roars and the clash of metal on metal, a sound of violence to make the bottom drop out from your stomach. Turning, you peer into the darkness, seeking - there! Max is a dozen yards back, locked in combat with a pair of beastmen that must have intercepted him midway through the run, trying to fend them off even as more of the creatures slink forward out of the darkness to join the fray.
"Sigmar preserve us," you growl, yanking your pistol free from your belt and aiming it at the brawl. For a moment you hesitate, trying to pick out a target amid the chaotic brawl and stifling darkness, and in that moment of hesitation the opportunity is lost. Max opens a vicious cut along the flank of one of the great shaggy beasts harrying him, only for the snarling beastman to ignore the pain and slam its crude wooden shield into his face. Your comrade staggers back, briefly stunned, and the second Gor seizes the opportunity to finish the job with a brutal strike of its axe. The heavy metal blade catches Max just below the hip and tears off his leg in a welter of blood.
"Max!" you cry, knowing even as you see him fall that he will not rise again. There is no time to mourn, for already the foam-flecked maws of the Gors are turning towards you and thrown javelins are hurling out from the darkness. One of them skims against your upper arm, a whiplash impact that sends you through a half turn by sheer momentum, and with a final curse you turn your back and enter the mine at a run.
Max and Markus have been intercepted by a band of beastmen en route to the mines. There are two Gors and two Ungors. The Gors are currently in combat with Max.
It is dark. Close combat rolls suffer a -20 penalty, and shooting suffers a -30. The Beastmen, possessed of night vision, do not suffer these penalties.
Enemy has two points of advantage due to outnumbering.
Round One
Max
Attacks one of the Gors with his sword. Skill is 32 after the darkness penalty, roll is 51, failure by -2SL.
Gor defends with skill 45, rolls 80, failure by -4SL, reduced to -3SL by shield.
Max inflicts 9 base +1 net SL = 9 damage. Gor has a TB of 4, one point of armour and a large shield (2), so it takes three wounds.
Markus
Markus would be taking a total -50 penalty for shooting into melee and in darkness, so he instead chooses to spend a round aiming, giving him an additional +20 for next round.
Gors
Both Gors attack Max. They have a skill of 45 and gain +20 for outnumbering their foe. One rolls 14, the other 19, so both get a base +5SL.
Max rolls to defend himself, again at 32. He rolls 85 and 96, failing by -5 and -6SL.
Gors have base damage 7, so that is two hits inflicting 17 and 18 damage respectively. Max has TB3 and 2 points of armour, so he reduces both of those by 5. He has fourteen wounds total, the first hit reduces him to 2 and then the second to -11
This inflicts a critical hit with a +110 bonus to the right leg. The result is 168, resulting in death as the blow shatters the pelvis and severs the leg below the hip. Max perishes almost immediately.
Ungors
The two Ungors move up and throw javelins at Markus. They have a skill of 40, ignore the night penalties and are at standard range. They roll 02 and 42, so one misses and one hits with +4SL.
Base damage of a javelin is 6, so total is 10. Markus has five toughness bonus and four points of armour on the arm, so takes a single wound.
On round two, Markus decides that fighting out here is likely to get him killed, so he retreats deeper into the mines.
Sure enough, less than a minute later you have to draw up short before the line of waiting spears can impale you. Half a dozen mutants fill the tunnel ahead, arranged in a double rank with spears held ready in trembling limbs, and at the sight of you most relax a bit and murmur in relief. You push your way through the improvised phalanx without a word, seeking the wider chamber beyond. As you expected, Rolf is there with the other noncombatants, helping Elvyra set out the pallets and supplies necessary for a frontline aid station.
"Ah, Lord Bruner," Rolf says warmly, smiling in pleasure at the sight of you. He's too tall for the tunnels, already bent at the neck to fit into this relatively spacious chamber, but he still has a sword in one hand and shield in the other. "I'm glad to see you made it."
"Where's Max?" Elvyra frowns, looking up from her preparations, and it is all you can do to shake your head. She needs no more explanation than that, and though her face crumples in sudden grief the apothecary has seen more death than most gathered here. She rallies herself a moment later, taking a steadying breath to centre herself, and when she snaps another set of instructions to her new assistants her voice barely even trembles.
"I assume you've considered evacuation," you say to Rolf in a low voice, crushing your own heart back into place in the interests of survival.
"The beasts have scouts watching all the exits," Rolf says grimly, though in truth you had hardly expected otherwise, "I've men watching each to keep them from sneaking in, but there's no chance we can get more than a few of us out that way. The plan is to hold here for long enough that they lose heart. The beastmen are raiders and pillagers, allies of the Red Crown rather than their servants. They won't fight to the end, and if we can hold out until dawn they'll flee rather than risk a reprisal force from Grissenwald being mustered."
It's a slim chance, but you suppose you really don't have many other options. At the very least if you kill enough of the warriors willing to come in after you they might need to pull more in from the perimeter guard, giving you a chance to break out and make it to the river.
There is no chance for further discussion, words and thoughts abruptly drowned out by bestial roars that echo like thunder through the caves. There must be at least a score of throats contributing to that twisted symphony, filling the space with the echo of their hatred and thirst for blood, and you hardly have to look at the trembling hands or pale faces to know a morale breaker when you hear it.
"Steady!" you call out, pitting your voice against the chorus as you step away from Rolf and over to the phalanx that holds the tunnel, "Steady, people of Black Peaks! This is your home, your future that you fight for. You have friends at your side and kin at your back, so take heart and stand with me. Stand!"
Markus tests Leadership! Difficulty is Average (+20) due to good reputation, +10 due to higher status, skill is 85! Roll is 98, fortune spent for reroll, 77. Critical Success!
It's not the best speech you have ever given, but it is exactly what the mutants need to hear right now, and though their limbs still tremble and their eyes are still wide, not one of them takes a single step back. You take your place in the front ranks of the defence, rapier in one hand and pistol in the other, and raise your voice in answer to the challenge.
"Come on then!" you roar, spitting defiance into the dark, "In Sigmar's name, come and meet your end!"
The beastmen oblige.
You pull the trigger the second the first braying monster enters the tunnel ahead of you, splitting its horned skull like an over-ripe apple and filling the air with the sound of thunder and acrid stench of gunpowder. The beast's comrades flinch at that, at least a few of them turning and scrambling back out of sight, but you have not the firepower to exploit the disorder this creates and soon enough the tide of flesh and steel is upon you. You fend off the first snarling beast that comes at you with a quick flicker of steel, the threat posed by your sword enough to pierce even the veil of rage that hangs across that primitive mind, but the other defenders have neither your experience or skill. There is the sound of screaming, the visceral crunch of axe blades into flesh, and to your left a mutant with hair of writhing worms goes down, quite literally tumbling back with her attacker stumbling over her.
Barking a curse you drop your pistol and draw your silvered sword in its place, pushing forwards to draw attention and buy time for the mutants to rally. The beastman before you goes down under a flurry of blows, managing only to tear a strip out of your armoured coat as it falls, but when you turn to the creature on the left it manages to keep its shield between your blades and the flesh you seek to tear and rend. The creature is lost to battle frenzy now, foam dripping from its fanged maw and bloodshot eyes staring wildly, so furious that it barely even notices when one hoof crushes the worm-haired mutant's skull like an egg. Unable to bring its axe to bear in the tight confines of the tunnel fight, the Gor instead slams its shield into your chest and face like a bludgeon, knocking your hat clear off and filling your mouth with the taste of blood.
"Sigmar!" you roar, spitting out a mouthful of your own blood and stabbing downward with your sword. The blessed steel splits the beastman's shin in two with a rotten crack, and as the screaming beast falls you are already turning to the next in line. You are too late to save a mutant with pale blue skin, split cleanly in twain by the beastman's axe, but your sudden aggression at least prevents the creature from pressing the assault into the rear ranks. Smaller, weaker and less skilled than the attackers, it is only the narrow frontage of the tunnel and the mutually supportive thicket of spears that are keeping the mutants in the fight. Such are your thoughts as you engage the blood-splattered foe, and such is the root of your mistake. Thinking of your allies and their peril, you neglect to consider your own.
With a shrill bleat, a beastman you didn't see crashes into your side, forcing your arm down before you can parry an incoming blow. A desperate twist of the neck turns a skull-shattering blow into something that merely rings your head like a temple bell, and as you stagger back you repay it with a thrust of the rapier clean through your assailant's throat. Desperately you try to raise your other sword to repeat the performance on the remaining beastman, only to find the limb stiff and unresponsive, numb beneath the aching throb of bruises you didn't even notice.
You might have died there, gutted and trampled by a braying monster before you could recover your weapon or cleanse your senses, but for the sudden intervention of the remaining mutants. Someone grabs you by the shoulder and hauls you out of the line of battle, taking your place and herding the monster back with questing jabs of their spear, and working side by side the mutant militia rally the line and press the remaining foe into the corner. It is dangerous, uncertain work that still leaves one of them doubled over and clutching at a bruised gut after the Gor resorted to kicking with its hoofed feet, but soon enough it is done.
"C'mere you big lug," Elvyra says briskly, grabbing you by the elbow and all but forcing you down into a chair as she looks you over, "Ack, but you'll have some terrible bruises on the morrow…"
She passes some truly staggeringly aromatic salts under your nose to clear the confusion, pokes and prods at your bruised flesh without so much as a thought to the grunts of pain she elicits, then forces a small vial of some dark and acrid liquid between your lips. You endure her ministrations with a weary patience, or perhaps with freshly concussed pliability, and when at last she nods in satisfaction you are not sure if you truly feel better or simply want to be out of her reach.
"That'll do," she says, slapping you briskly on the uninjured shoulder and pulling you back to your feet, "Get back out there, you big lug, before…"
"My, my. What a mess."
The voice is not one you recognise, but there is only one woman in this place who could be speaking with such smooth aristocratic languor. Sure enough, when you return to the corpse-strewn ruin of the entrance tunnel, it is to find a tall blonde woman in a rich scarlet dress standing amid the bodies, inspecting the carnage with a dispassionate eye.
"Ah, and here he is," Etelka Herzen says with a smile as you push your way through the crowd of wary mutants, "Markus von Bruner, the man who would replace me as your patron."
The sorceress has not come alone, flanked instead by a pair of truly enormous beastmen whose metal-tipped horns scrape against the cavern roof, their bloated forms so packed with muscle it is a wonder they can fit into the heavy suits of armour each wears. At the sight of the pistol in your hand one of them interposes himself between you and the sorceress, fixing you with a glare and growling so deeply you can feel it in your bones.
"Really now, templar, be reasonable," Etelka chuckles faintly, laying a slender hand on the furred arm of her brutish protector, "Even if you could gun me down and survive the fury of my champions - no sure thing by any measure - the Greyhorn tribe will simply set fire to the supports and collapse the mine. You may be willing to die for the sake of vengeance, but will you sacrifice all those gathered here to see it done?"
You grit your teeth hard enough to hurt, but you do not raise the pistol. "Why have you come, witch?"
"Oh, so he does speak! I was beginning to wonder," Etelka chuckles at that, but you notice that her eyes do not leave the pistol. She's not nearly so dismissive of the threat you pose as she might pretend, though that is cold comfort unless you can find a way to leverage it. "In any case, my purpose ought to be obvious. I came to receive your surrender."
You remember how Max fell, his blood staining a beastman axe, and you laugh without humour. "You must be joking. Surrender to the likes of you is nothing more than a death sentence."
"Now why would you think that?" Etelka chides you gently, and even above the stench of broken bodies and sundered bowels you think you can smell her perfume. It is a rich floral smell, strong enough that she must have damn near bathed in it. "I was the one who gathered these poor lost souls in the first place. I gave them food and shelter, a place they could live without fear, and I did not require some flimsy pretext of law to justify it. They have far better grounds to trust me than you."
Ah, of course. Her words are not aimed at convincing you, but rather the watching mutants, scared and desperate and all too aware of how many of their kin are already lying dead on the floor. You shake your head, determined not to allow the sweet poison to pass unchallenged.
"You are a cultist of the dark gods," you say flatly, "Any virtue you pretend is cover for your master's agenda. You would use these people as pawns in your schemes and discard them just as easily."
Etelka Herzen laughs at that, and when she opens her mouth you could almost swear there is something black and glittering at the back of her throat.
"Njawrr'thakh 'lzimbarr Tzeentch," she says, her smile growing wider when you flinch at the sound of that accursed name, "Yes, I am a servant of the Changer. Yes, I would see others brought into their service. I offer no excuses and make no apologies. Indeed, let me preempt your next argument - yes, I would have those who tried to abandon the Red Crown slain, especially if they wished to return to the bosom of Sigmar's Empire. What general would not, faced with those determined to offer aid and comfort to their enemy?"
"Are we to conclude that an honest monster is somehow better?" you say acidly, measuring with your eyes the angle needed to put a bullet through this woman's skull. If she intends nothing more than this vapid posturing it may well be worth the cost.
"I care little for what you believe," Etelka shakes her head, "Only what you do. We are at war and you, trapped and outnumbered as you are, have lost. Yet battles do not have to end in slaughter. Surrender, offer yourself as a hostage, and I will spare the rest of the people here. Even your agents, should any of them remain breathing."
The reminder of Max's death burns like fire, but you are not so weak as to give into a goad so easily. "And what possible reason could you have to do that?"
"Well, I hardly expect you to believe any claim rooted in compassion," Etelka rolls her eyes, as though believing the worst of a chaos cultist is somehow childish or unreasonable. "Perhaps it is easier to believe that my master has its eye on you, and has for some time? Since Bögenhafen, in fact."
You remember the way that the Ordo Septenarius died. You remember the flames, vibrant beyond reason and horrible beyond measure. You remember the Eye, and how it felt to endure its scrutiny. You remember these things and you shudder, but so too do you remember to keep your own eye upon Etelka, to weigh her words and measure her intent as you would any other quarry..
Markus tests Intuition! Skill is 55, roll is 23, success.
The witch looks… annoyed? Yes, you can see it now, in the narrowing of her eyes, the faint edge to her words. She doesn't want to make this offer, doesn't want to be anywhere near you at all much less while you are still upright and have a weapon in hand, but she is here anyway and she detests it. For reasons you cannot even begin to fathom, it would appear she is sincere; whatever foul monster she serves does not wish you to die just yet.
"Let us say I entertained this farce of yours," you say carefully, trying not to linger on how horrifying a thought it is that you might yet owe your life to a daemon, "What do you imagine would happen?"
"I would bind you hand and foot with the strongest chains I can find," Etelka says, her voice and tone the sweetest kind of poison, "then I would load you into my boat and smuggle you off to meet my comrades, who I expect would do all manner of horrible things to you over a prolonged period. Eventually you would either die or convert - either way, my role will be complete by then, the promised rewards bestowed, and I will have no need to involve myself in this… matter any further."
Well, at least that much matches with your expectations. "And Black Peaks?"
"Well, I can hardly afford to remain here now, can I? Not when the Holy Orders know of my past and where I choose to make my home," Etelka sighs, more visibly annoyed now, "I would leave, and take the faithful with me. The rest, I suppose, can take their chances with the local authorities, for whatever good that will do them."
"Milord, you can't possibly be thinking to…" Elvyra mutters from somewhere behind you, but you cannot afford to look back at her just yet. The witch is here within your grasp, and she offers you a choice. If you accept, you may be able to save the remaining mutants who placed their trust in you, not to mention Elvyra. If you refuse, you are unlikely to have a better chance than this to bring Etelka Herzen to justice.
Blessed Sigmar, guide me now…
Article:
What decision does Markus make?
[ ] Surrender Markus will allow himself to be taken by Etelka Herzen in exchange for the lives of his remaining allies and followers. He will of course attempt to escape where possible, or at the very least give Elvyra a message to pass back to the Holy Orders.
[ ] Attack Etelka Herzen has a pair of elite beastmen with her as personal champions and is a potent sorceress, but she might yet be brought down by a surprise assault. Better dead than in the claws of a daemon and its mortal pets.
[ ] Write In Alternate terms may be suggested but will require a charm, leadership or intimidate roll as appropriate. Tactics may also be suggested, if you wish input on how Markus seeks to fight or trick his way out of this one.
Markus has joined five mutants holding a chokepoint for this battle. The tunnel is only wide enough for three men abreast, but armed with spears the mutants in the back rank can engage anyway.
Six Gors are attacking Markus' position in the first wave.
The mines are not well lit, and so those without night vision will be taking a -10 penalty to their combat rolls.
Round One
Markus
Markus opens fire at the beastmen with his pistol. He gets a +20 for short range, a -10 for poor illumination, and another +20 for shooting at a small group without caring which Gor he hits. His skill is thus 88 and he rolls 11, a critical hit with +7SL.
The Gor has a shield and so gets to resist with its skill of 45. It rolls a 90, a failure by -5SL.
Total damage is 9+7+5=21 damage. Even with the Gor's impressive toughness, this and the crit is enough to kill the first Gor. Two points of advantage are gained.
The other five Gors need to make average (+20) cool tests to avoid breaking in the face of a blackpowder weapon. They test against 50 and three of them pass. The other two break and flee.
Beastmen
Two of the beastmen are Broken and so move back out of sight.
The three remaining Gors charge the defensive line, one against Markus and two against the other mutants in the front rank. They have a skill of 45 and their charge bonus is cancelled out by the longer reach of the spears. The Horns trait gives them a bonus attack when charging.
The Gor attacking Markus rolls 59 and 36, for -1SL and +1SL respectively. Markus has an effective defence of 53 and rolls 49 and 76, for +1SL and -2SL. He parries the first attack, then spends fortune on the second for 06, parrying that as well. Two more advantage gained.
The beastmen attacking the mutants roll 76, 55, 63 and 78, failing by -3, -1 (fumble), -2 and -3 respectively.
The mutants defend themselves with a skill of 35, rolling 89, 66, 96 and 61, failing by -5, -3 (fumble), -6 and -3 respectively.
The warrior to Markus' left is hit twice, with net SL of +2 each time, though on the second they both fumbled. Damage is 9 and then 8 (the second attack is the Horns and thus slightly weaker), reduced by 3 each time, so the mutant takes 11 wounds. He is still alive, barely. Both sides then take a wound from their fumble, which brings the mutant to zero and he collapses prone. Beastmen get two advantage points.
The warrior to Markus' right is hit twice, with +4 and +0SL for 11 and 6 damage. The mutant takes 8 and then 3 wounds, again bringing him to one wound remaining. Beastmen get two points of advantage, bringing them to 4.
Mutants
On the left, two mutants attack their Gor. One has skill 35, the other is prone and is reduced to 25, but they outnumber the Gor so get +20. They roll 24 and 66, for +3SL and -2SL (and another fumble)
The left Gor defends at 45 and rolls 74 and 100, failing by -2 and -5SL even after the shield's defensive quality is taken into account. Result is net 5 and 3SL for the mutants, though the fumble means the prone mutant is now taking another -10.
Damage is 11 and 8, reduced by 7 each time, the left hand Gor takes 5 wounds. Combined with the earlier fumble, it is now on 8/14.
The mutant behind Markus stabs at the middle Gor with 35+20 = 55, rolling 72, a failure by -2SL. The Gor defends at 45 and rolls 04, easily parrying the attack. The beastmen now have five advantage points. Markus and the mutants now have six.
The right hand mutants attack the right hand Gor, rolling at 55 each. They roll 9 and 14, for +5 and +4SL.
The right hand Gor defends at 45 and rolls 50 and 41, for 0 and 1SL after the shield. Thus it is hit twice with 5 and 3SL net. Damage is base 6, so 11 and 9, reduced to 4 and 2 wounds. The right hand Gor has 8/14 wounds left. Markus and the mutants have eight advantage points.
Markus, Additional Action
Markus spends four advantage points for an additional action, then the remaining four points for +30 on his attack. He draws his second sword alongside the rapier and attacks the middle Gor.
Markus has base skill 63, -10 for poor illumination, +30 for advantage and +20 for outnumbering. His total skill is 103. He rolls 18, scoring a total of 10SL after talents.
The central beastman takes a -10 penalty for defending against a fast weapon, rolling against 35 and getting 11. He gets 3SL and inflicts a crit on Markus' body location. Markus elects to sacrifice a point of armour to cancel out that critical, reducing his body AP to three.
Damage is 8 base +7 net SL for a total of 15, which the beastman reduces to 8. It has 6/14 wounds left.
Markus reverses the dice to get 81 for his follow up attack, a total of 3SL. The Gor defends with 45, since the silvered sword is not fast, and gets 74 for -2SL after shield. 5 net SL plus 8 base is 13 damage, the Gor reduces it to six, but this is enough to bring it to zero wounds and it falls.
End of the round, the beastmen have six advantage points and Markus et all have zero.
Round Two
Markus
Seeing that the mutant to his left has been knocked prone and badly injured, Markus attacks the Gor to his left. He has effective skill 53 but gets a +40 for outnumbering the foe 3:1, so his skill is 93. He rolls 67 for +4SL after talents
The Gor defends with 35 and rolls 05, for 4SL after shield. Markus gets a bare hit with no SL, which the Gor reduces to one wound. It has 7/14 left.
Markus flips the dice for a result of 76 as his follow up, 3SL. The Gor defends again and gets 06, successfully parrying Markus entirely this time. The beastmen now have seven advantage points to Markus' one.
Beastmen
Of the two Beastmen that fled, one manages to regain its composure. It moves back up but cannot engage this turn.
The two beastmen currently fighting spend 3 advantage each to activate their Fury traits. This grants them both the effects of Hatred and Frenzy. They get +1SL on all attacks, +1 damage and a free extra attack each round.
The left-hand Gor uses one attack against the downed mutant and one against Markus. The first gets +20 for attacking a prone target and ignores the reach advantage, so is against 65. The roll is 24, for a total of 5SL. The downed mutant defends with 25 and gets 29, and takes a horrific crit that kills him instantly. The beastmen now have three advantage points.
The second attack is made against Markus at skill 45. It gets 20, a head hit with 3SL. Markus has an effective defence of 43 due to the darkness and his use of dual wielder. He rolls 73 and spends fortune (leaving him with 2) to reroll, getting 45 for a bare failure.
The hit is 8+3 = 11 damage. Markus has 5 toughness and one point of armour on his head, so he takes 5 wounds.
On the right the second Gor makes its two attacks against the already injured mutant. It has an effective skill of 35 due to having less reach. It rolls 63 and 31, for -2 and +1SL after frenzy.
The right-hand mutant defends himself with skill 35. He rolls 78 and 15, getting -4 and +2SL. Only the first hit gets through, but it deals 8+2=10 damage, reduced to seven by the mutant's toughness. The right hand mutant only had one wound left, and so takes a crit with a +60 modifier to the body. With a result of 142, the mutant is torn entirely apart and dies. The beastmen now have five advantage points.
Mutants
Only three mutants remain now. One is fighting the left hand beastman, two are fighting the right hand. Consequently, they both get +20 for outnumbering (since Markus is also fighting the left hand Gor.)
The left hand mutant rolls 57 (0SL) against 75 (-2SL), net hit +2 for 8 damage, reduced to 1 wound by toughness etc. The left hand Gor has six wounds remaining.
The mutants attacking the right hand beastman roll 68 (-1) and 36 (2). The beastman defends with 45 and rolls 30 (1) and 66 (-2, fumble). This results in one hit at 4 net SL, for ten damage reduced to 3 wounds. The right-hand Gor has 5/14 remaining.
The Gors now have six advantage points, while Markus and the mutants have four.
Round Three
Markus
Markus once again spends four advantage points for a +30 attack bonus as he goes for the left-hand beastman. He takes -10 for darkness but +20 for outnumbering, end result is his skill is 103. He rolls 29, getting 9SL after talents.
The left hand Gor defends with skill 35 and gets 65, a -2SL failure with the shield. Total damage is 8 base +9 +2 = 19, reduced to 12 by armour etc. The left hand Gor had 7 wounds and so is reduced to -5, taking a leg crit at +50. This gives the beastman a cracked shin injury, so it is stunned and prone.
Markus turns and makes his second attack against the right hand Gor, reversing his dice for 92, 2SL after talents. The Gor defends with 45 and gets 23, successfully parrying the attack with 3SL.
Beastmen
The fleeing beastman is removed from consideration. The one that rallied spends three advantage points to activate fury and hatred, then charges Markus. The remaining right-hand beastman also turns to attack Markus. Although alone in the front rank, there are enough spear mutants alive to avoid any outnumbering bonus.
This leads to a total of four attacks, three at 55 and two at 45.
The charging beastman rolls 04, 91 and 36. After bonuses, this means 6, -3 and 3SL respectively.
Markus defends himself with 43 due to darkness and dual wielding. He rolls 100, 59 and 62, failing all three rolls. He spends fortune to reroll that first one and gets 88, still a failure and also a fumble. The end result for him is -4, -1 and -2SL, so he blocks the middle hit and gets hit by the first and third.
The first hit is a hit to the right arm and deals 9+6+4=19 damage. Markus has five TB and four AP on his arm, so he takes ten wounds. He has three wounds left.
The fumble results in Markus being out of position, so his next action will take a -10 penalty.
The second beastman, the right-hand one, attacks twice and rolls 10 (4SL) and 91 (-4SL)
Markus defends with 43 and rolls 14 (3SL) and 64 (-2SL). He parries the second hit and takes the first at 1SL net, for 9 damage to the head. Markus has 1AP and 5TB there, so he takes three more wounds, reducing him to zero but not quite inflicting a crit.
The beastmen have seven advantage points, while Markus and the mutants have two
Beastmen, again
The charging beastman spends all seven advantage to take another turn with a +20 bonus. It gets two attacks, due to frenzy, at a total skill of 65. It rolls 69 and 86, for 1 and -1 SL after the frenzy and hatred bonuses.
Markus defends with skill 43 and gets 31 and 96, for 1 and -5SL respectively. He chooses to reroll the second one with his last fortune point and gets 92, still a failure.
The first hit is parried, as both combatants have 1SL but Markus has the higher raw skill. The second hit is +4SL in the Gor's favour. It inflicts 8+4 = 12 damage to Markus' body location, where he has 5TB and 3AP after the earlier crit deflection. This means he takes a crit at +40.
The roll is a total of 42, wrenched collar bone. Markus drops his silvered sword and cannot use his left arm for one round.
Mutants
The left hand mutant finishes off the beastman with the cracked shin bone. The other two mutants attempt to bring down the right hand Gor, gaining a +20 outnumber bonus to roll at 55. They roll 02 and 46 for 5 and 1SL
The Gor defends with 45 and gets 71 and 72, for -2SL each after the shield bonus.
Damage is 6 base, +7 for first and +3 for second, so 13 and 9 damage. Both are reduced by 7, so the Gor takes 6 and then 3 wounds. It had five wounds remaining and so is put down.
Markus et all have five advantage now.
Round Four
Markus
Spends two advantage to fall back without getting attacked, swapping positions with the spearman behind him and moving to the medical aid station
Elvyra, on her turn, rolls Heal at her skill of 85 and gets 76, allowing her to restore 7 wounds to Markus
Beastman
The one remaining Gor attacks the mutants. It has a skill of 45, reduced to 35 by the shorter reach, and rolls 34 and 75, for 1 and -3SL
The mutants defend with their skill of 35 and roll 61 and 13, for -3 and +2SL. The second hit is blocked, the first gets through.
Hit is 8 base plus 4 net SL = 12 damage, reduced to 9 by toughness. One mutant is badly hurt but still intact.
Mutants
The three mutants have a +40 outnumbering bonus now, so they make their attacks at a skill of 75. They roll 08, 17 and 34, for 7, 6 and 4SL respectively.
The Gor defends with its skill of 45 and rolls 100, 58 and 70, failing all three defense rolls.
This is enough damage to put the final beastman down and end the combat.
Scheduled vote count started by Maugan Ra on Jan 14, 2025 at 3:30 PM, finished with 84 posts and 55 votes.
[X] Plan: Mine Holdout
-[X] Spend 1 Resilience to roll a 10 for shooting Etelka in the head
-[X] Lure the champions where there's lower headroom, surround them, and have the front rank on the defensive while the rest stab them
-[X] Move to one of the mine exits and hold the chokepoint until relief arrives.
[x] Plan: Mine Holdout
-[X] Spend 1 Resilience to roll a 10 for shooting Etelka in the head
-[X] Lure the champions where there's lower headroom, surround them, and have the front rank on the defensive while the rest stab them
-[X] Move to one of the mine exits and hold the chokepoint until relief arrives.
XXXVII - In Sigmar's Name
She offers you surrender. She offers you humiliation and suffering, imprisonment in the depths of some forgotten pit to be tormented by daemons and their pets, a stay of execution until your spirit or your body succumbs. She offers you death by any other name, and expects you to believe that it is a worthy trade.
She damned your father. She poured poison in his ears and kindled the darkness in his heart until he fell from grace, and she made you send him to the pyre. She alone of all beyond your family knows of Rickard's condition. It was her schemes that set the dwarves and humans of Grissenwald against each other, and her patronage of murderers like Knud has cost the lives of good men and women from here to the very streets of Altdorf.
She killed Max.
Perhaps it is your expression that betrays you, some look in your eyes or shift in your stance. Whatever it is, Etelka Herzen is ready for it. As you raise your pistol she mirrors the motion, a long wand of some oily black stone held in her dainty hand, and when she spits a word of command the shadows obey. Long ropes of darkness erupt from the darkness around your feet, hissing like snakes as they wrap themselves around your torso and drag your arm down before it can aim the gun, but you are not so easily denied. Your heart burns with inner flame, consuming everything you are and all that you have to give, and before the force of that inferno nothing a mere sorceress has to offer is enough.
"Die," you say, and pull the trigger.
Your bullet strikes Etelka Herzen between the eyes. There is no bone behind that pale skin, no skull cradling the soft mass of her brain, only a gelatinous mass of squirming black filth that loosely apes the proper shape, and so the shot does not so much shatter the witch's head as puncture it. Ichor erupts from the wound in a lumpen spray, filling the air with the same nauseating reek that she once used perfume to disguise, and like a puppet with its strings cut, Etelka collapses.
You have no time to celebrate, or even truly process what you have achieved, for the beastmen roar with outrage and lunge to the attack. No mere raiders these, like the brutes that attacked you in the tunnel. These are Bestigors, the vile champions of their forsaken race, and their battle fury is a thing of terrible wonder to behold. The thin line of mutant spearmen who step up to support you as little more than kindling before the flame, hacked and bludgeoned and torn apart before they even have the time to scream, and then it is your turn. Your rapier is a swift and deadly weapon, but it is one thing to cross blades with a fellow duelist or ward off a charging bandit, quite another to stand against a snarling pillar of muscle and fur wielding an axe as long as you are tall.
An axe bites into your shoulder, tearing open an artery and soaking your whole side in blood. A horn tears through your gut and pulls forth ragged ropes of muscle like so much string. An attack you do not even see cuts straight through your thigh and sends you spinning to the ground, and in the face of such wrath even the fire blazing within your heart is not enough.
You fall, and darkness swallows your world.
Combat begins! Markus is joined by three mutants, and they are facing down Etelka Herzen and two Bestigors. Elvyra and several other mutants are present, but they are effectively non-combatants.
Nobody has any advantage to start with.
Round One
Etelka Herzen
Etelka attempts to cast Entangle. Her Language (Magick) is 75 and she rolls 42. This is 3SL, raised to 5SL by talents.
Entangle has Casting Number 3, reduced to 2 by Etelka's magic item. Consequently, Etelka has three levels of overcast to work with. She spends one of them on an additional target and two on doubling the duration.
Markus and one of the mutants receive a pair of Entangled conditions each.
Etelka then moves behind one of her bodyguards.
Markus
Markus spends two resolve to remove the entangled conditions, overcoming the magic by dint of sheer iron will.
As per the winning plan, he burns a point of resilience to shoot Etelka and automatically rolls a 10. While he is suffering various penalties such as vision and Etelka having cover, this is still enough to hit.
Thanks to the damaging quality, allowing Markus to replace the rolled SL with the units dice (0, counting as 10) for damage calculations, this shot deals 19 damage. Etelka has a toughness bonus of 3 and a single point of arcane armour, so she takes 15 wounds. This brings her to an effective -2, so she takes a critical hit with a +20 modifier.
The result is 115. Etelka is instantly slain as her skull is shattered into pieces.
Markus and his allies gain 2 advantage points.
Bestigor 1
Furious, the first Bestigor charges Markus. It has a skill of 65, increased to 75 by the charge, and thanks to Horns gets to make two attacks. It rolls 24 (5SL) and 94 (-2SL).
Markus defends with his fencing skill of 63. He loses 2SL on each of these tests because of the size difference, but is still better off than relying on his dodge of 26. He rolls 39 (1SL) and 76 (-3SL) and so is hit twice. He spends his last fortune point on rerolling that second one and gets 61 (-2SL), but is still hit.
The Bestigor is using a greataxe so has base damage 10 and impact on the charge, for a raw damage of 10+5+4-1 = 18. This is a hit to the right arm. Markus has TB5 and 4AP on the arm so takes nine wounds. This reduces him to -2. His armour is also damaged by the hack quality.
The critical hit results in a 94 "Damaged Artery". Markus takes 4 bleeding conditions.
The Horns attack has a base damage of 7, and as a large creature the bestigor swaps its SL for 4 on the damage calculation, total 7+4+2=13. This is a body hit, Markus has 5TB and 3AP on the body currently, so takes a critical with a +50 modifier.
The critical is 74, pulled back. Markus suffers a Torn Muscle (Major) injury in his back, much as Max did in Bogenhafen.
Bestigor 2
The second Bestigor charges the mutants, starting with the non-entangled mutants. It has a skill of 75 on the charge and rolls 72 for its first attack.
The mutant defends with a skill of 35 and rolls 95, for -8SL after the size penalty. The Bestigor inflicts 10+2+8= 20 damage and kills the mutant.
Deathblow! Hitting a smaller target with a melee attack allows a large opponent to move through and attack again. The Bestigor follows up with an attack against the second mutant and rolls 06 (7SL) versus 51 (-4) for 10+7+4+6=27 damage, again killing outright.
Deathblow! The number of attacks you can make in this manner is capped by your weapon skill bonus, but the Bestigor has plenty to spare. It follows up against the entangled mutant and rolls 65 (1) versus 11 (1 plus crit), a hit for 10+1+5-1=15 damage, which reduces the last mutant to 1 wound. The Bestigor then follows up with its Horns trait, rolling 31 (4SL) against 72 (-8) and kills the final mutant.
Deathblow! The second Bestigor finishes up with an attack against Markus. It has skill 75 and rolls 48, for 3SL. Markus has defence 63 but takes a -20 penalty on his roll due to the torn muscle in his torso. He rolls 17, for 1SL after size etc.
The Bestigor inflicts 10+3+8-1= 20 damage to Markus. It hits the left leg for a critical with +140 bonus. This removes Markus' leg and kills him immediately.
Markus spends a Fate point on Die Another Day.
-/-
You wake to pain and the smell of burning flesh.
You gasp in breathless pain, the taste of blood and bile mingling in your mouth, and thrash like a worm upon a fisherman's hook. Your clothes are gone, your weapons taken, everything you had plundered by the bestial horde before they left you here. A length of rope runs beneath your arms and across your broad chest, holding you in place against the tree even as it squeezes the breath from your lungs. Through eyes blurred by tears you look down at the ruin of your right arm and the empty space where your left leg should be, seeing the burned and bubbling mass of cauterised flesh that spared you the death you had earned. The beasts, it seems, wanted you alive. Or, at least, they wanted you to suffer before the end.
Your bare skin is covered in signs and sigils, some daubed in blood and filth, others simply cut into your broken skin by tainted blades. You look upon them for a moment, then add your own vomit to the mess.
It is almost dawn. The sun is coming up in the distance, and by its pale light can you see the ruin of Black Peaks. The ground has been churned to mud by a hundred stamping hooves, the wooden buildings shattered and the stone tower turned black with flame. Everywhere the signs and symbols of Chaos have been marked, cut into wood and daubed in blood and constructed from lengths of broken meat. And among it all, the corpses, broken and defiled and displayed for all to see.
There are so many corpses. Max, Elvyra, Rolf and the people of Black Peaks. Everyone who followed you here, everyone who listened when you spoke and fought when you asked. You came here to kill Etelka Herzen, and this is the result.
Darkness takes you again, and this time you welcome it.
Article:
Choose:
[ ] Live
Markus will survive, and in time will find a reason to carry on. Unable to forgive himself, he will instead decide that there is nothing to forgive. This outcome was inevitable, even justifiable.
[ ] Break
Markus will survive, but his will to continue will not. Unable to bear the burdens demanded by his faith and service, he will resign from the Holy Orders and seek some other path.
So passes Markus von Bruner, Templar of the Holy Orders of Sigmar. He died in battle against the creatures of darkness, giving his life to bring down a sorceress at the head of a dangerous Chaos Cult. For his valour and zeal he paid the ultimate price, as did those who fought by his side. There are those who would say it was worth it, for any price is worth paying if it buys another day free of the Dark Gods. There are those who would lament his choices, for it was not he alone who paid for them. Ultimately, only the gods themselves can judge, and they do not lightly share their counsel.
In the thirty years that stretched from his birth to his death Markus changed the lives of many, though of those only a handful will ever learn of his passing.
The young woman Heidi thought often of the man who saved her from the pyre her accusers would have built for her, as did Father Sigiwalt of the bold young man who stepped up and saved the town he loved when others could not or refused to act.
Johannes Teugen read the letter from his agent thrice over before he was satisfied, then tossed it into the fire and poured himself a glass of whiskey. It was not often that he indulged, but some things were worth breaking with habit to celebrate.
Witchfinder General Wälder mourned the loss of a bright young man and the future he might have had, as he had a hundred others before. As a final tribute he arranged for his protege's retinue to be named alongside him in evening prayers at the Great Cathedral, allocating their uncollected stipend towards the education of the young girl Liza who had once been in their charge. Then he returned to his duties and thought no more of any of them, save in the quiet and lonely hours of the night.
Unaware of their reconciliation, the Witchfinder General kept news of Markus' demise from his siblings, and while Maria eventually worked out the truth after several years of quiet investigation she never could find where her brother was buried. She and Rikard each mourned in their own way, and neither spoke again of the latter's refusal to ever attend the Colleges of Magic. Perhaps if he had, he might have crossed paths with the Astromancer Spätin, and recognised in her the same conflicted emotions he himself felt towards the now fallen hunter who saved them both. Or perhaps not; the world is a large place, after all, and not even wizards know each other all by name.
And in the shadows, the enemy within continued their plots. The Red Crown had suffered a setback, the Purple Hand the loss of their Magister Magistri, but both still had their plans and schemes in motion. From the cold streets of Middenheim to the rarefied air of the Volkshalle their schemes continued, while in a forgotten corner of Blackfire Pass something too foul to die hissed in frustration at the loss of a valuable pawn. Some of their schemes would go undetected, others would be fought by heroes and villains of the highest and lowest calibre, but Markus would not see any of them. His duty was done.
The gates of Morr's Garden swung wide, and with a grateful sigh, Markus von Bruner laid himself down to rest.
Anyway, with The Enemy Within having come to an end, I have put together and started on my next quest - The Ubersreik Question.
You're a nineteen year old girl who joined the army for really dumb reasons and is now being deployed to what might very soon become the flashpoint for a civil war.
Hopefully being a wizard makes up for that.
(While not a sequel or anything, it is taking place in the same timeline, so to speak, so Markus will be having his adventures in the background. This quest will take a look at what exactly Karl Franz was doing in Ubersreik and may involve meeting other members of the von Bruner family)
Irmina Bauer is a wizard of the Imperial Colleges of Magic, possessed of vast arcane power. She is also nineteen, cripplingly shy and being sent to the front lines of an impending civil war.
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