The Enemy Within (WHF Witch Hunter Quest)
- Thread starter Maugan Ra
- Start date
- Fantasy
Sertorius
Rebellious Legate
- Location
- Roma Invicta
Ranald did promise to help after all.
Fear the day when he will come to collect...
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Praying for Markus and our suicide squad to pull through...
Revlid
blob of bugs
- Location
- England
Your conclusions are not unreasonable! The question is, do we wish to share these reasonable conclusions with the Cult of Sigmar's authorities, or lay out The Bare Facts, which are that Edel was seduced by members of a Chaos Cult, aided and abetted their gatherings and ritual preparations, protected them from investigation, and even went so far as to betray and actively sabotage a Templar operating under direct orders?
I guess Morrslieb was laughing rather than smiling.
XXI - A Shadow over Bögenhafen
- Location
- London, England
XXI - A Shadow Over Bögenhafen
There is a part of you that wishes nothing more than to kick down the door and denounce all the wickedness that you find within in a ringing voice, but there is a much greater part that considers how lightly equipped you are for the task at hand and sees the virtue in discretion.
"Best to avoid any fight we do not need," you murmur to the others, studying the misty street and eying the distances between the shadowy forms patrolling it, "Let's see how close we can get without being seen."
Markus makes an Easy (+40) Stealth test. Skill is 66, roll is 69, bare failure.
Thugs test perception, skill is 25, roll is 27, also bare failure.
Even with the thick banks of mist cloaking everything the infiltration comes perilously close to failure more than once, with guards seeming to turn towards your fleeting footsteps at the worst possible moments and a plethora of small stones scattered in just the right places to be disturbed by an errant foot, but somehow you manage it. Slowly releasing your breath and wiping the combined sweat and condensation from your brow, you gather the others around you and press up against the outer wall of the warehouse. From here the sound of chanting is all too clear, and though there are wooden slats across the windows and the doors remain barred, you are able to find a small crack that allows you to peer inside.
Within, nine chanting figures stand in a loose circle in an open section of the warehouse floor. Eight of them are robed in red and masked by silver, while the last seems like nothing more sinister than a young nobleman from the courts of Altdorf, disdaining concealment in favour of a sardonic smile as he watches the others intone the ritual words. A familiar copper ring lies on the ground between the group, encompassing within its shining lines an elaborate octagram speckled in blood and marked by eight black candles that burn with pale light, while at the centre a shallow silver bowl holds a human heart that glistens in the candlelight.
(A bloodstained bundle of rough canvas lies propped up against the far wall, just the right size and shape to hold a young woman's body. You close your eyes for a moment and mutter a prayer for the victim's forgiveness, for you were not swift enough to save her from this fate.)
It is obvious which among the foe is the leader, at least, for one of the cultists is bloated and obese beneath his robes and clutches a sacrificial dagger in one pudgy hand that he passes rhythmically through the flames of each candle in turn. That would be Franz Steinhäger, you assume, which makes the lean looking nobleman the mysterious Gideon.
"Nine of them," you murmur to the others, describing what you can see of the ritual and its layout in a quiet voice as they lean in close to hang off your every word.
"They're nearly finished," Spätin replies in an equally quiet voice when you are finished, "I don't know how I know that, but… there's no way we get away and come back before they're done. All or nothing. Make the call, boss - how do we stop this?"
Nodding grimly, you cast back through your memories in search of anything close to this kind of ritual that you've seen or heard of, and more critically what it might take for your small band to stand a hope of disrupting it.
Markus makes an average (+20) Lore (Witches) test. +10 from Spätin assisting, skill is 70, roll is 88, failure.
Unfortunately, while you learned more than enough to recognise an evil ritual by the slightest trace of evidence or scattered paraphernalia, concrete advice on how to stop one once it is already in operation was somewhat harder to come by among your studies.
"We'll just have to kill as many of them as possible, and hope they need everyone alive to finish the ritual," you say grimly, "Stand with me now, and do not fear. Sigmar is with us."
Pushing down the treacherous thoughts that whisper doubt in your mind, you make your way around to the side door, the one that the warehouse workers use to enter and leave without needing to struggle with the main portal. It is unlocked, thankfully, and with a last moment to commend your soul to the gods, you push it open and step inside.
Markus makes an average (+20) stealth test. Skill is 46, roll is 52, failure. Surprise lost.
You were hoping to slip in unnoticed and seize the advantage of surprise, but the door hinges squeak loudly as you swing it open and all the masked faces turn to face you immediately. Suppressing the urge to curse, you step forward into the candlelight and draw your borrowed swords, holding them ready and visible at your sides.
"I am Markus von Bruner, of the Holy Order of Sigmarite Templars," you say in your sternest, most commanding voice, "You are all hereby charged with murder, blasphemy and the performance of forbidden magics. Surrender."
"Keep the chant, brothers," the leader of the cultists says in a harsh, rasping voice, "Gideon and I shall deal with this… interruption."
"I suppose we shall have to," the lean looking nobleman says with a sigh, making a tutting motion as he steps forward to put himself between the ring of cowled figures and your little band, "You know, I really thought Goetrin would be able to keep you locked up for at least one night. You really can't get good help these days."
He's confident, they both are, and while that is to be expected it is also displeasing to you in the extreme. Whatever injuries may have been done to your pride and self-regard, you are still a Templar of Sigmar, and you will not allow your god or order to be mocked even by proxy. So you take a gamble, and address the smiling rake directly.
"Sheru-tar Gee'taru, I presume," you say in a cold and level voice, your tongue tingling slightly as it twists around the name that the guardian daemon snarled at you before you destroyed it. You doubt it is the entirety of the daemon's true name, and even if it were you lack the mystical knowledge to properly leverage that advantage, but from the way 'Gideon' flinches at the words it must feel rather like being scourged across the face.
"...very well then, templar," the daemon says, its mocking grin sliding away and leaving only cold malice in its wake, "We'll play it your way, and long may you regret it."
"Indeed!" Franz Steinhäger booms, casting his arms wide and throwing his head back as unclean power gathers in great coruscating arcs around his splayed hands, "We will show you the gifts our learning has brought us! Witness true power!"
The air turns greasy and thick, strange whorls of light and shadow rippling across the ground surrounding Steinhäger like an inverted halo, but before he can finish whatever foul working he is engaged upon the sound of a serpent's hiss fills the warehouse and a small leaden ball strikes the merchant lord in his prodigious gut.
"Ha!" Master Banbury cries out in triumph, already winding his sling back around a calloused hand as he scurries for cover behind a stack of wooden crates. "Take that, blackguard!"
"Martak shira corus!" Steinhäger snarls in reply, only to stop and grab at his throat, "Sen? Fo, talar…"
For a moment you think he might be intoning the words to some spell, but no magic comes forth, and when Adhema screams a wordless battle cry and hurls herself at the nearest of the robed figures still locked in their chanting no curse or malediction befalls her.
"Oh dear, lost control of the magic already?" Gideon tuts like a disappointed parent, raising his hand and tracing a lurid purple rune on the air that hurts your eyes to look upon, "This is the problem with you humans, all ambition and no talent. Don't you agree, Master Templar?"
Growling, you heft your swords and step towards him. Except… no, something's wrong. The weapons feel heavy and off balance in your hands, as if flawed in their construction. No, not even that. You are sure there is a way you should be holding them, some technique to balance the two against each other and fight effectively with two weapons in hand, you were taught how to do that, weren't you? Yes, you know you were, you remember the lessons in your old garden, the tutor hired at great expense to instruct you, but somehow the thought of what it was you learned turns to water and slips away as you try to grasp it.
"Ah, the look of realisation is always so sweet," Gideon croons, staring at you with a rapt expression on his false face, "That's right, templar. No skill, no training, no little tricks or memorised lessons. I've taken everything from you except what your brute form alone provides, and I think we both know how little that is. Tell me, Markus - how will you win now?"
You hesitate, mind racing, but before you can recover your wits Spätin lunges past your frozen form and stabs Gideon through the chest. The daemon in human form staggers backwards, stumbling like a drunk with an expression of mortal offence on his stolen face, and Spätin spares a moment to glance back over her shoulder at you.
"It's not complicated, Markus," she says with a laugh, holding her rapier in a two handed grip like a child playing with sticks, "Pointy end goes in the enemy!"
For one absurd moment you feel like objecting, the hot bloom of affronted pride chasing away your paralysis, but now is most assuredly not the time. You can imagine your peers laughing and your old tutor despairing, but that hardly matters compared to your duty, so you drop one of your swords in the dirt and take the other in a two handed grasp, stepping forward to hack at Gideon's slender form like a lumberjack going at a tree. The blade bites deep, oily sap leaking from the wound in place of blood, and the daemon shrieks.
"No, no, no!" it squeals, false human skin peeling away like paper charring in the flames, revealing nothing but pink flames and a maw filled with a thousand and one mismatched fangs beneath, "This isn't fun anymore! Just burn!"
Boiling pink and purple flames erupt from the daemon's maw and wash over you like a tide, at once agonising and enlightening, and you stagger back with a hoarse yell of pain swallowed by the blaze. The fire does not stop with you, leaping across the room to consume Ozzy and his hiding place both, and with an agonised scream the halfling collapses to the ground, rolling around in mindless pain as his flesh cooks and his clothes burn. You bat out the flames that threaten to consume you, choking back a further cry of pain, and in a fleeting moment behold the whole scope of the battle in a single glance.
Ozzy is on the floor, shrieking in pain, consumed by daemonic fire. Adhema is retreating, one hand clutched to a horrible bleeding wound in her side, desperately fending off the lumbering form of Steinhäger as the cult magus advances on her, his sacrificial knife already wet with blood. You and Spätin are locked in combat with a daemon, one even now shedding its skin and bringing fresh power into play, while beyond you can see the main door open and the first of the cult's hired thugs stepping in to join the battle. And in the middle of it all, the seven remaining members of the Ordo Septenarius' inner circle continue their chanting, the ritual nearing completion. For one terrible moment, everything hangs by a thread. Then Spätin pushes past her fear and rams the point of her rapier down the daemon's slavering maw, ignoring the way the teeth close around her forearm like a vice.
"Tell your master," she hisses, face white with pain and fear alike, "that the answer is no."
Sheru-tar Gee'taru is a creature from far beyond this mortal realm, but this does not make it invulnerable or immortal, and this final blow is more than its conjured corpus can sustain. The daemon disintegrates, wailing in a child's terrified voice as its stolen limbs vanish in a haze of purple flame, and as it passes so too does the curse it laid upon you. All your skill and certainty returns in a rush, and before the enemy can adjust to the sudden change in fortunes you seize the advantage, leaping past the dying daemon to engage the fool that summoned it.
Franz Steinhäger turns to face you at the last moment, but his skills with a dagger are far from sufficient to save him from your wrath, and with a single brutal motion you open his gut from right to left and send blood and bile cascading in a waterfall down the front of his crimson robes. The merchant lord staggers back with a bubbling shriek, tripping over his own feet as the strength leaves his lumbering body all at once, and scatters the candles as he falls within the copper circle upon the floor.
"Franz Steinhäger," you say firmly, breathing hard but evenly as the remaining cultists break off their chants with cries of fear and alarm, "By your actions, the plea entered against my charges is one of manifest guilt. The punishment for any one of your crimes is death. May Sigmar judge you fairly, and Morr guide you to such a fate as you deserve."
"No…" Steinhäger moans faintly, hands flailing as he tries to drag himself back across the dirt, as he tries to staunch the mortal wound in his gut, as he tries to save himself in any way he can, "No, this isn't right, this isn't what was promised… my lord, you promised me! My lord, save me! Save me, Lord Tzeentch!"
The candles ignite, red and blue and green and a thousand other hues beside, and as you step back in alarm the flames leap in great arcs from the whip to lash at Steinhäger like snakes. The merchant shrieks in pain and fear, his swaddled bulk igniting like a bonfire, and from the smoke that rises from his burning corpse a great shape takes form. Your mind refuses to accept what it is, or perhaps it simply cannot make sense of all that your senses perceive. A great orb of inner flame, a swirling maelstrom of scintillating light, an abyss of whispering shadows, and above all else, an eye. The Eye.
There is no portal. The pact is broken.
The voice is felt more than heard, a thousand panes of glass shattering in agonising, mesmerising chorus to produce something that is very nearly a sound. You fall to your knees at the edge of the room, while somewhere behind you Adhema shrieks and Spätin weeps like a babe.
Your souls are mine. They always were.
One by one, the remaining members of the Ordo Septenarius combust like torches soaked in oil, burning in a thousand tongues of flame that slink like serpents through the air. One by one, they are consumed by the eye, wailing in shock and confusion as the betrayal takes hold. Some protest their innocence, others babble their ignorance, and one poor soul tries to call out to Sigmar to save him. None of it works.
The Eye looks upon you, and bit by bit you start to unravel, your every petty hope and ignoble ambition flensed from your soul and dragged weeping to the surface, dreams leaking from your eyes like pale tears.
Markus von Bruner. Your soul too is mine. One day I shall claim it.
You choke on empty hope, writhe beneath the lash of hollow desire, burn in the fires of faith denied. You scream without words as pain unlike any you have ever known lashes you to the bone, and none of it hurts nearly as much as the despair that threatens to consume you at the sound of that awful, wonderful voice.
But not today.
And just like that, it is over. The voice falls silent, the eye disappears, and in the span of a heartbeat you are left on your knees in the burned out ruin of a warehouse, broken corpses and smouldering shadows all around. For a long moment, the only sound to break the silence is the soft, broken whimpering of minds pushed too far past their limits. Then you push through the pain and the fear and the feelings you don't even have a name for, and force yourself to your feet.
"You there. Stevedores," you say in a hollow voice, nodding to the terrified, near babbling wrecks of the two men by the main door, or perhaps more pertinently to the merely uneasy comrades who joined them after the horror was over. "Summon the watch, the high priest, and the head of the Town Council. Go, now."
The minions take off running, and you nod absently as you move towards the centre of the room. The copper circle has melted into slag and the bodies of the cultists are little more than burned cinders scattered around the perimeter, but there is enough here to make it clear just what it was that you interrupted. The others seem to be alive, one and all, though Ozzy and Adhema are even now being fussed over by Elvyra (who, it seems, stayed well clear of the warehouse entirely until the sounds of combat stopped), and you should feel happy about that, you think. Or perhaps you should be feeling angry or horrified about what else transpired, or… or something, surely. But no. You can only stand there, silent and still, until at last Spätin drags her way over and leans against the crate next to you.
"Here," the duelist turned witch says hoarsely, thrusting a bottle into your hands. You realise, in a dim sort of way, that it bears the same markings as the wine that Josef carried as cargo on the way to Bögenhafen. A funny coincidence, you suppose, or perhaps nothing nearly so benign. How would you even tell? "You look like you need a drink. Me too. I… that was… is it always like that?"
"No," you say quietly, pulling the cork from the neck and taking a long swig from the bottle, feeling nothing at all as it burns its way down, "Not like that. Never, I would have said, but… well."
Spätin grunts wordlessly, and together the two of you stand amid the ruins, drinking stolen wine and letting your thoughts slowly settle. Not that they ever will, after tonight. Not truly. You don't want to think about that, though, so you cast about for something else to break the tension and land on an errant bit of curiosity.
"You said… it should tell its master your answer was no," you say after a long moment, watching the mist flow slowly in through the open door, "What did you mean?"
"Ah," Spätin winces, then from her doublet fishes out a small scroll capped in brass. She passes it to you, and when you look down at the strange lettering that covers it you find you can taste blood in your mouth. "I, uh, stole that. From the temple. The first one, in the sewers."
It's a spell. You don't know how to speak the strange tongues that wizards use to conjure their magic, but you hardly need to in order to guess what kind of invocation is contained in this thing. The guardian daemon you encountered there had to be called forth somehow, after all, and the cultists didn't summon any more once you broke their temple and began your investigation proper.
"Things like this…" you say slowly, annoyance and concern warring in your voice, the first stirrings of emotion you weren't sure you had left to feel, "They are dangerous, Spätin. To your soul, far more than your body. To take it so casually was a risk beyond any other I can easily name, to say nothing of the crime… you understand that, right?"
"Yeah," the witch grimaces, "Don't know why I took it, really, but it started, uh, whispering to me. At night. Wanted me to use it, to speak the words and call forth something that could teach me. Seemed real keen on the idea."
Alarm kindles in your breast now, along with a sharper kind of despair that sets itself in contrast to the all encompassing tides that threaten to drown you. You almost don't want to speak, you were so close to a success, and yet duty demands that you ask. "I see. Did you… listen? Did you call such a thing forth?"
Spätin stares at you solemnly for a moment, the weight of every word hanging like lead in the air between you. Then, quite slowly, she shakes her head.
"Nah," she shrugs, "I can't read."
For one long, silent moment you stand there in mute incomprehension. Then the first crack forms in the frozen bulwark of your heart, and you smile. Then you chuckle. Then you laugh, and cry and curse her name, pass her the wine bottle and bite your fist to keep a scream inside. Everything in your heart comes boiling out in a single ragged burst, and the sound of your insane mirth frightens some more than the daemons ever could.
You are still smiling when Reiner von Goetrin arrives at the head of a hastily organised company of town watch. Somehow, the sight fails to put the captain at ease.
There is a part of you that wishes nothing more than to kick down the door and denounce all the wickedness that you find within in a ringing voice, but there is a much greater part that considers how lightly equipped you are for the task at hand and sees the virtue in discretion.
"Best to avoid any fight we do not need," you murmur to the others, studying the misty street and eying the distances between the shadowy forms patrolling it, "Let's see how close we can get without being seen."
Markus makes an Easy (+40) Stealth test. Skill is 66, roll is 69, bare failure.
Thugs test perception, skill is 25, roll is 27, also bare failure.
Even with the thick banks of mist cloaking everything the infiltration comes perilously close to failure more than once, with guards seeming to turn towards your fleeting footsteps at the worst possible moments and a plethora of small stones scattered in just the right places to be disturbed by an errant foot, but somehow you manage it. Slowly releasing your breath and wiping the combined sweat and condensation from your brow, you gather the others around you and press up against the outer wall of the warehouse. From here the sound of chanting is all too clear, and though there are wooden slats across the windows and the doors remain barred, you are able to find a small crack that allows you to peer inside.
Within, nine chanting figures stand in a loose circle in an open section of the warehouse floor. Eight of them are robed in red and masked by silver, while the last seems like nothing more sinister than a young nobleman from the courts of Altdorf, disdaining concealment in favour of a sardonic smile as he watches the others intone the ritual words. A familiar copper ring lies on the ground between the group, encompassing within its shining lines an elaborate octagram speckled in blood and marked by eight black candles that burn with pale light, while at the centre a shallow silver bowl holds a human heart that glistens in the candlelight.
(A bloodstained bundle of rough canvas lies propped up against the far wall, just the right size and shape to hold a young woman's body. You close your eyes for a moment and mutter a prayer for the victim's forgiveness, for you were not swift enough to save her from this fate.)
It is obvious which among the foe is the leader, at least, for one of the cultists is bloated and obese beneath his robes and clutches a sacrificial dagger in one pudgy hand that he passes rhythmically through the flames of each candle in turn. That would be Franz Steinhäger, you assume, which makes the lean looking nobleman the mysterious Gideon.
"Nine of them," you murmur to the others, describing what you can see of the ritual and its layout in a quiet voice as they lean in close to hang off your every word.
"They're nearly finished," Spätin replies in an equally quiet voice when you are finished, "I don't know how I know that, but… there's no way we get away and come back before they're done. All or nothing. Make the call, boss - how do we stop this?"
Nodding grimly, you cast back through your memories in search of anything close to this kind of ritual that you've seen or heard of, and more critically what it might take for your small band to stand a hope of disrupting it.
Markus makes an average (+20) Lore (Witches) test. +10 from Spätin assisting, skill is 70, roll is 88, failure.
Unfortunately, while you learned more than enough to recognise an evil ritual by the slightest trace of evidence or scattered paraphernalia, concrete advice on how to stop one once it is already in operation was somewhat harder to come by among your studies.
"We'll just have to kill as many of them as possible, and hope they need everyone alive to finish the ritual," you say grimly, "Stand with me now, and do not fear. Sigmar is with us."
Pushing down the treacherous thoughts that whisper doubt in your mind, you make your way around to the side door, the one that the warehouse workers use to enter and leave without needing to struggle with the main portal. It is unlocked, thankfully, and with a last moment to commend your soul to the gods, you push it open and step inside.
Markus makes an average (+20) stealth test. Skill is 46, roll is 52, failure. Surprise lost.
You were hoping to slip in unnoticed and seize the advantage of surprise, but the door hinges squeak loudly as you swing it open and all the masked faces turn to face you immediately. Suppressing the urge to curse, you step forward into the candlelight and draw your borrowed swords, holding them ready and visible at your sides.
"I am Markus von Bruner, of the Holy Order of Sigmarite Templars," you say in your sternest, most commanding voice, "You are all hereby charged with murder, blasphemy and the performance of forbidden magics. Surrender."
"Keep the chant, brothers," the leader of the cultists says in a harsh, rasping voice, "Gideon and I shall deal with this… interruption."
"I suppose we shall have to," the lean looking nobleman says with a sigh, making a tutting motion as he steps forward to put himself between the ring of cowled figures and your little band, "You know, I really thought Goetrin would be able to keep you locked up for at least one night. You really can't get good help these days."
He's confident, they both are, and while that is to be expected it is also displeasing to you in the extreme. Whatever injuries may have been done to your pride and self-regard, you are still a Templar of Sigmar, and you will not allow your god or order to be mocked even by proxy. So you take a gamble, and address the smiling rake directly.
"Sheru-tar Gee'taru, I presume," you say in a cold and level voice, your tongue tingling slightly as it twists around the name that the guardian daemon snarled at you before you destroyed it. You doubt it is the entirety of the daemon's true name, and even if it were you lack the mystical knowledge to properly leverage that advantage, but from the way 'Gideon' flinches at the words it must feel rather like being scourged across the face.
"...very well then, templar," the daemon says, its mocking grin sliding away and leaving only cold malice in its wake, "We'll play it your way, and long may you regret it."
"Indeed!" Franz Steinhäger booms, casting his arms wide and throwing his head back as unclean power gathers in great coruscating arcs around his splayed hands, "We will show you the gifts our learning has brought us! Witness true power!"
The air turns greasy and thick, strange whorls of light and shadow rippling across the ground surrounding Steinhäger like an inverted halo, but before he can finish whatever foul working he is engaged upon the sound of a serpent's hiss fills the warehouse and a small leaden ball strikes the merchant lord in his prodigious gut.
"Ha!" Master Banbury cries out in triumph, already winding his sling back around a calloused hand as he scurries for cover behind a stack of wooden crates. "Take that, blackguard!"
"Martak shira corus!" Steinhäger snarls in reply, only to stop and grab at his throat, "Sen? Fo, talar…"
For a moment you think he might be intoning the words to some spell, but no magic comes forth, and when Adhema screams a wordless battle cry and hurls herself at the nearest of the robed figures still locked in their chanting no curse or malediction befalls her.
"Oh dear, lost control of the magic already?" Gideon tuts like a disappointed parent, raising his hand and tracing a lurid purple rune on the air that hurts your eyes to look upon, "This is the problem with you humans, all ambition and no talent. Don't you agree, Master Templar?"
Growling, you heft your swords and step towards him. Except… no, something's wrong. The weapons feel heavy and off balance in your hands, as if flawed in their construction. No, not even that. You are sure there is a way you should be holding them, some technique to balance the two against each other and fight effectively with two weapons in hand, you were taught how to do that, weren't you? Yes, you know you were, you remember the lessons in your old garden, the tutor hired at great expense to instruct you, but somehow the thought of what it was you learned turns to water and slips away as you try to grasp it.
"Ah, the look of realisation is always so sweet," Gideon croons, staring at you with a rapt expression on his false face, "That's right, templar. No skill, no training, no little tricks or memorised lessons. I've taken everything from you except what your brute form alone provides, and I think we both know how little that is. Tell me, Markus - how will you win now?"
You hesitate, mind racing, but before you can recover your wits Spätin lunges past your frozen form and stabs Gideon through the chest. The daemon in human form staggers backwards, stumbling like a drunk with an expression of mortal offence on his stolen face, and Spätin spares a moment to glance back over her shoulder at you.
"It's not complicated, Markus," she says with a laugh, holding her rapier in a two handed grip like a child playing with sticks, "Pointy end goes in the enemy!"
For one absurd moment you feel like objecting, the hot bloom of affronted pride chasing away your paralysis, but now is most assuredly not the time. You can imagine your peers laughing and your old tutor despairing, but that hardly matters compared to your duty, so you drop one of your swords in the dirt and take the other in a two handed grasp, stepping forward to hack at Gideon's slender form like a lumberjack going at a tree. The blade bites deep, oily sap leaking from the wound in place of blood, and the daemon shrieks.
"No, no, no!" it squeals, false human skin peeling away like paper charring in the flames, revealing nothing but pink flames and a maw filled with a thousand and one mismatched fangs beneath, "This isn't fun anymore! Just burn!"
Boiling pink and purple flames erupt from the daemon's maw and wash over you like a tide, at once agonising and enlightening, and you stagger back with a hoarse yell of pain swallowed by the blaze. The fire does not stop with you, leaping across the room to consume Ozzy and his hiding place both, and with an agonised scream the halfling collapses to the ground, rolling around in mindless pain as his flesh cooks and his clothes burn. You bat out the flames that threaten to consume you, choking back a further cry of pain, and in a fleeting moment behold the whole scope of the battle in a single glance.
Ozzy is on the floor, shrieking in pain, consumed by daemonic fire. Adhema is retreating, one hand clutched to a horrible bleeding wound in her side, desperately fending off the lumbering form of Steinhäger as the cult magus advances on her, his sacrificial knife already wet with blood. You and Spätin are locked in combat with a daemon, one even now shedding its skin and bringing fresh power into play, while beyond you can see the main door open and the first of the cult's hired thugs stepping in to join the battle. And in the middle of it all, the seven remaining members of the Ordo Septenarius' inner circle continue their chanting, the ritual nearing completion. For one terrible moment, everything hangs by a thread. Then Spätin pushes past her fear and rams the point of her rapier down the daemon's slavering maw, ignoring the way the teeth close around her forearm like a vice.
"Tell your master," she hisses, face white with pain and fear alike, "that the answer is no."
Sheru-tar Gee'taru is a creature from far beyond this mortal realm, but this does not make it invulnerable or immortal, and this final blow is more than its conjured corpus can sustain. The daemon disintegrates, wailing in a child's terrified voice as its stolen limbs vanish in a haze of purple flame, and as it passes so too does the curse it laid upon you. All your skill and certainty returns in a rush, and before the enemy can adjust to the sudden change in fortunes you seize the advantage, leaping past the dying daemon to engage the fool that summoned it.
Franz Steinhäger turns to face you at the last moment, but his skills with a dagger are far from sufficient to save him from your wrath, and with a single brutal motion you open his gut from right to left and send blood and bile cascading in a waterfall down the front of his crimson robes. The merchant lord staggers back with a bubbling shriek, tripping over his own feet as the strength leaves his lumbering body all at once, and scatters the candles as he falls within the copper circle upon the floor.
"Franz Steinhäger," you say firmly, breathing hard but evenly as the remaining cultists break off their chants with cries of fear and alarm, "By your actions, the plea entered against my charges is one of manifest guilt. The punishment for any one of your crimes is death. May Sigmar judge you fairly, and Morr guide you to such a fate as you deserve."
"No…" Steinhäger moans faintly, hands flailing as he tries to drag himself back across the dirt, as he tries to staunch the mortal wound in his gut, as he tries to save himself in any way he can, "No, this isn't right, this isn't what was promised… my lord, you promised me! My lord, save me! Save me, Lord Tzeentch!"
The candles ignite, red and blue and green and a thousand other hues beside, and as you step back in alarm the flames leap in great arcs from the whip to lash at Steinhäger like snakes. The merchant shrieks in pain and fear, his swaddled bulk igniting like a bonfire, and from the smoke that rises from his burning corpse a great shape takes form. Your mind refuses to accept what it is, or perhaps it simply cannot make sense of all that your senses perceive. A great orb of inner flame, a swirling maelstrom of scintillating light, an abyss of whispering shadows, and above all else, an eye. The Eye.
There is no portal. The pact is broken.
The voice is felt more than heard, a thousand panes of glass shattering in agonising, mesmerising chorus to produce something that is very nearly a sound. You fall to your knees at the edge of the room, while somewhere behind you Adhema shrieks and Spätin weeps like a babe.
Your souls are mine. They always were.
One by one, the remaining members of the Ordo Septenarius combust like torches soaked in oil, burning in a thousand tongues of flame that slink like serpents through the air. One by one, they are consumed by the eye, wailing in shock and confusion as the betrayal takes hold. Some protest their innocence, others babble their ignorance, and one poor soul tries to call out to Sigmar to save him. None of it works.
The Eye looks upon you, and bit by bit you start to unravel, your every petty hope and ignoble ambition flensed from your soul and dragged weeping to the surface, dreams leaking from your eyes like pale tears.
Markus von Bruner. Your soul too is mine. One day I shall claim it.
You choke on empty hope, writhe beneath the lash of hollow desire, burn in the fires of faith denied. You scream without words as pain unlike any you have ever known lashes you to the bone, and none of it hurts nearly as much as the despair that threatens to consume you at the sound of that awful, wonderful voice.
But not today.
And just like that, it is over. The voice falls silent, the eye disappears, and in the span of a heartbeat you are left on your knees in the burned out ruin of a warehouse, broken corpses and smouldering shadows all around. For a long moment, the only sound to break the silence is the soft, broken whimpering of minds pushed too far past their limits. Then you push through the pain and the fear and the feelings you don't even have a name for, and force yourself to your feet.
"You there. Stevedores," you say in a hollow voice, nodding to the terrified, near babbling wrecks of the two men by the main door, or perhaps more pertinently to the merely uneasy comrades who joined them after the horror was over. "Summon the watch, the high priest, and the head of the Town Council. Go, now."
The minions take off running, and you nod absently as you move towards the centre of the room. The copper circle has melted into slag and the bodies of the cultists are little more than burned cinders scattered around the perimeter, but there is enough here to make it clear just what it was that you interrupted. The others seem to be alive, one and all, though Ozzy and Adhema are even now being fussed over by Elvyra (who, it seems, stayed well clear of the warehouse entirely until the sounds of combat stopped), and you should feel happy about that, you think. Or perhaps you should be feeling angry or horrified about what else transpired, or… or something, surely. But no. You can only stand there, silent and still, until at last Spätin drags her way over and leans against the crate next to you.
"Here," the duelist turned witch says hoarsely, thrusting a bottle into your hands. You realise, in a dim sort of way, that it bears the same markings as the wine that Josef carried as cargo on the way to Bögenhafen. A funny coincidence, you suppose, or perhaps nothing nearly so benign. How would you even tell? "You look like you need a drink. Me too. I… that was… is it always like that?"
"No," you say quietly, pulling the cork from the neck and taking a long swig from the bottle, feeling nothing at all as it burns its way down, "Not like that. Never, I would have said, but… well."
Spätin grunts wordlessly, and together the two of you stand amid the ruins, drinking stolen wine and letting your thoughts slowly settle. Not that they ever will, after tonight. Not truly. You don't want to think about that, though, so you cast about for something else to break the tension and land on an errant bit of curiosity.
"You said… it should tell its master your answer was no," you say after a long moment, watching the mist flow slowly in through the open door, "What did you mean?"
"Ah," Spätin winces, then from her doublet fishes out a small scroll capped in brass. She passes it to you, and when you look down at the strange lettering that covers it you find you can taste blood in your mouth. "I, uh, stole that. From the temple. The first one, in the sewers."
It's a spell. You don't know how to speak the strange tongues that wizards use to conjure their magic, but you hardly need to in order to guess what kind of invocation is contained in this thing. The guardian daemon you encountered there had to be called forth somehow, after all, and the cultists didn't summon any more once you broke their temple and began your investigation proper.
"Things like this…" you say slowly, annoyance and concern warring in your voice, the first stirrings of emotion you weren't sure you had left to feel, "They are dangerous, Spätin. To your soul, far more than your body. To take it so casually was a risk beyond any other I can easily name, to say nothing of the crime… you understand that, right?"
"Yeah," the witch grimaces, "Don't know why I took it, really, but it started, uh, whispering to me. At night. Wanted me to use it, to speak the words and call forth something that could teach me. Seemed real keen on the idea."
Alarm kindles in your breast now, along with a sharper kind of despair that sets itself in contrast to the all encompassing tides that threaten to drown you. You almost don't want to speak, you were so close to a success, and yet duty demands that you ask. "I see. Did you… listen? Did you call such a thing forth?"
Spätin stares at you solemnly for a moment, the weight of every word hanging like lead in the air between you. Then, quite slowly, she shakes her head.
"Nah," she shrugs, "I can't read."
For one long, silent moment you stand there in mute incomprehension. Then the first crack forms in the frozen bulwark of your heart, and you smile. Then you chuckle. Then you laugh, and cry and curse her name, pass her the wine bottle and bite your fist to keep a scream inside. Everything in your heart comes boiling out in a single ragged burst, and the sound of your insane mirth frightens some more than the daemons ever could.
You are still smiling when Reiner von Goetrin arrives at the head of a hastily organised company of town watch. Somehow, the sight fails to put the captain at ease.
Article: The Ordo Septenarius have been thwarted and Bögenhafen saved. Congratulations! For this deed, Markus gains +1 fate point.
XP has been awarded and will be allocated/spent in a later update, but first there are some loose threads to deal with in Bögenhafen. This is a task vote and each option will be considered separately.
First: Watch Captain Reiner von Goetrin ignored your rights, obstructed your duties and had you imprisoned on spurious charges. Through his likely unwitting efforts, Bögenhafen came perilously close to destruction.
[ ] [Goetrin] The Pyre. You will lay charges of conspiracy and blasphemous intent against the Captain, proclaiming that he willingly assisted a cult of the dark gods. He will likely be found guilty, regardless of his actual involvement, and sentenced to burn at the stake.
[ ] [Goetrin] Disgrace. Graf von Saponatheim will be sending a representative to the town, and you expect they will be eager to be seen 'cleaning up' the town. Goetrin will likely be stripped of command and sent home in disgrace, tarnished with this failure in the eyes of his peers.
[ ] [Goetrin] Retirement. You will speak privately with the captain, and offer him a chance to bow out with some honour. He will appoint a replacement of your choosing, someone of integrity, and then take an early retirement to pursue some harmless interest.
Second: High Priest Ludo Edel refused to take the threat of the Ordo seriously, and undermined your investigation by assuring involved parties that this was a political act and not something to be treated with appropriate gravity.
[ ] [Edel] Heretic. Whether knowingly or through ignorance, Edel lent significant aid and guidance to a cult of the dark gods, and Bögenhafen nearly paid the price. You will publicly condemn and prosecute the man, and damn all warnings of his friends and patrons.
[ ] [Edel] Incompetent. You will make the necessary reports through the cult hierarchy to make it clear to the Arch Lectors the scale of Edel's failure. Likely he will be quietly 'promoted' to some forgotten corner of a distant abbey and a more appropriate high priest appointed. Perhaps Sigiwalt would like the job.
[ ] [Edel] Humbled. You will speak privately to Edel and make it clear how thoroughly you can ruin him, and how closely you will be observing reports from your local sources. He will seize this chance with desperate hands and lend his weight to all of your other actions, now and in the future.
Third: Town Councillor Johannes Teugen allowed his personal animosity for you to distort his judgement, and by dragging his heels and failing to fully cooperate he nearly led Bögenhafen to its doom.
[ ] [Teugen] Recalled. You will not resort to the courts for this, but make it publicly known to all Bögenhafen what Teugen did and what the consequences almost were. Merchant families depend on their good reputation more than coin; likely, he will lose his job on the Council and his entire house will face very hard times until they can redeem their good name.
[ ] [Teugen] Replaced. You will speak with Graf von Saponatheim, or whoever he sends to represent him, and make it clear that the Cult views the current situation in Bögenhafen's leadership as responsible for this mess. The Graf will likely clean house, dissolving the council entirely and assuming a more direct rule over the town.
[ ] [Teugen] Repaid. You will have a quiet word with the councilman, and make him see the wisdom of burying the hatchet. His wealth, and his connections among the nobility of Reikland and beyond, will be of great help to you and your agents in the future.
Finally, any other tasks you wish to account for in Bögenhafen before departing should be specified below. Markus will almost certainly not be returning here in the lifetime of the quest. Any write in with a decent level of support that can be accomplished without contradicting another option will be implemented, within reason.
[ ] [Other] (Optional write-in)
Combat Rolls
Initiative Order:
At the beginning of combat, Markus and his allies have 2 advantage due to outnumbering (the actual combatants, since most of the cultists can't fight), while the Ordo has 1 due to the presence of a powerful threat.
Round One
At the end of the round Markus and co have 6 advantage, while the Ordo has 1. Ozzy spends all of that advantage to make another attack with +10, hoping to take Steinhäger out of the fight before he can recover or rally the cultists.
At the end of the round two of the thugs from outside arrive at the door, being added to the fight at Initiative 25.
Round Two
At this point combat ends and we proceed to the finale.
Initiative Order:
- Gideon (58)
- Steinhäger (58)
- Adhema and Ozzy (40)
- Spätin (36)
- Markus (32)
At the beginning of combat, Markus and his allies have 2 advantage due to outnumbering (the actual combatants, since most of the cultists can't fight), while the Ordo has 1 due to the presence of a powerful threat.
Round One
- Gideon invokes the spell 'Treason of Tzeentch'. As a daemon of Tzeentch, he makes spellcasting tests at average (+20) difficulty and halves the CN, so he has a skill of 79 and wants Casting Number 3. He rolls 07, and so gets 7SL.
- Gideon's four levels of overcast are invested in an additional target (Spätin) and in doubling the duration (to 12 rounds)
- Markus and Spätin cannot, for the duration, use their talents or any skill advances. They roll with bare characteristics only.
- Targeted by a spell from the Lore of Tzeentch, Markus makes an endurance test. His skill is 52 and he rolls 11, succeeding and gaining a fate point. Such are the inscrutable whims of Tzeentch.
- Steinhäger opts to channel power in the form of Dhar. He tests against his skill of 80 but rolls 98! This is a failed test, and one that contains both an 8 (the number of chaos) and a 9 (the number of Tzeentch), while trying to use Dhar in a place of unhallowed power. Steinhäger therefore suffers a Major Miscast.
- He rolls a 28, and thus gets Speak in Tongues. This result means that he can only babble senselessly for the next d10=2 rounds, during which time he obviously cannot cast any magic or channel power.
- Ozzy moves to cover behind some crates and uses his sling to attack Steinhäger. With short range, his effective skill is 50, and he rolls 05. This is a hit with +5SL, for a total of 12 damage. Steinhäger has a toughness bonus of 4 and no armour, so he takes 8 wounds. He has 10 remaining.
- Adhema charges one of the chanting cultists. She has a skill of 40 after the charge, and rolls 66. This is a fumble.
- The cultist rolls against 40 to defend himself and gets 63, failing by -2SL as well. Consequently, Adhema manages a glancing blow (dealing 7 damage, or 4 wounds) but still fumbles.
- Adhema catches part of her anatomy and loses one wound.
- Spätin chooses to charge Gideon. As she cannot use her skills due to Treason of Tzeentch, she is reduced to her base weapon skill of 44, or 54 with the charge. She rolls 83, a failure by -3SL
- Gideon defends with his skill of 47, reduced to 37 because a rapier is a fast weapon, and rolls 77, a failure by -4SL and also a fumble. Consequently, Spätin gets a bare hit with +1SL, for 8 damage reduced to 4 by Gideon's toughness.
- Gideon rolls for his Daemonic trait, but with a 4 it fails to activate and he takes the damage.
- Gideon then rolls for his fumble and stumbles badly. He loses his next move action.
- Markus then also elects to charge Gideon. He is likewise reduced to his weapon skill of 48, but gains +30 to this due to the charge and also outnumbering Gideon 2:1, thus rolls against 78. He gets 03, a hit with +7SL
- Gideon attempts to defend with his skill of 47 and rolls 64, a failure by -2SL, for a total of +9SL in Markus' favour.
- Gideon rolls his daemonic trait, but with a 6 it again fails to activate
- Total damage is 7 base plus 9SL minus 4 toughness = 12 wounds. Gideon has just 6 wounds remaining.
At the end of the round Markus and co have 6 advantage, while the Ordo has 1. Ozzy spends all of that advantage to make another attack with +10, hoping to take Steinhäger out of the fight before he can recover or rally the cultists.
- His effective skill is now 60, but unfortunately he rolls a 90 and thus misses entirely.
At the end of the round two of the thugs from outside arrive at the door, being added to the fight at Initiative 25.
Round Two
- Gideon, angered now, sheds his mortal guise to reveal his daemonic nature. This gives him Fear 2. He then casts Pink Fire of Tzeentch at CN3, targeting Markus. His skill is 79 and he rolls 23, getting 5SL and thus successfully casting with 2 levels of overcast, which he invests in 1 extra damage and one extra target, picking Ozzy.
- Markus and Ozzy are hit for 13 damage each, prior to toughness and armour. Ozzy is reduced to 2 wounds remaining. Markus takes 7 wounds and has 11 left. They are both ablaze.
- Markus tests endurance and with 18 gains another fortune point.
- Steinhäger, unable to cast, instead readies his sacrificial dagger and moves in to attack Adhema. He has a skill of 55 and gains +20 from outnumbering, since there is another cultist engaged with her. He rolls 46, a success with +3SL.
- Adhema rolls her defence of 40 and gets 87, a failure by -4SL, for a total of +7SL to Steinhäger. He deals 6+7-3= 10 wounds to Adhema, leaving her with just one left after her earlier fumble.
- Ozzy hits the deck, attempting to make an athletics test to extinguish the flames. His skill is 40 and he rolls 13, successfully extinguishing himself.
- Adhema, badly injured, uses her action to back up to the side of the warehouse and take up a defensive stance.
- Spätin attempts to stab Gideon again, rolling against her characteristic of 44 plus 20 for outnumbering the daemon. She gets 58, a success with +1SL, reduced to 0 by the fear trait.
- Gideon defends with 37 and rolls 70, a failure with -4SL. He tests his daemonic trait and with a 7 it once again fails to activate (on an 8+ he ignores any damage from a given hit)
- Spätin therefore inflicts 7+4-4 = 7 wounds. This reduces Gideon to below 0 wounds. As he is a daemon, he simply discorporates instantly upon hitting this threshold (rather than taking critical wounds like a human would).
- Markus doesn't have time to burn and so spends a resolve point to negate his ablaze condition. He then elects to charge Steinhäger. Since Treason of Tzeentch is ended by the death of the caster, he uses his skill of 58 plus 10 for charging, a total of 68, and rolls 43. This is a total of +3SL with his talents taken into account.
- Steinhäger tries to defend himself with his skill of 55 and rolls 71, a failure by -2SL. He takes 7+5-4 = 8 wounds more, reducing him to 2.
- Markus makes a follow up attack, reversing his dice to get 34. Steinhäger defends again and this time rolls 97, an even worse result for a total of 8SL in Markus' favour. This is a total of 7+8-4=11 wounds, reducing him to an effective -9 and triggering a critical hit of d100+90 to the body.
- The result is 114, Internal Bleeding. Steinhäger gains a Bleeding condition that can only be countered through surgery, and also contracts bloodrot. This is enough to effectively put him out of the fight.
At this point combat ends and we proceed to the finale.
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
Now that's a Warhammer meme I did not expect to see show up here, but it very much works.
It's even about a book as well!
Chlof
Her Ladyship
- Pronouns
- She/Her
I might go through and make a list of the people who aided us here when I get back to my computer, make sure everyone gets proper recognition and recompense
- Location
- France
[X] [Goetrin] Disgrace. Graf von Saponatheim will be sending a representative to the town, and you expect they will be eager to be seen 'cleaning up' the town. Goetrin will likely be stripped of command and sent home in disgrace, tarnished with this failure in the eyes of his peers.
I don't think this guy deserves to actually die, but he definitely deserves to lose his job.
[X] [Edel] Heretic. Whether knowingly or through ignorance, Edel lent significant aid and guidance to a cult of the dark gods, and Bögenhafen nearly paid the price. You will publicly condemn and prosecute the man, and damn all warnings of his friends and patrons.
We must piss off as many important people as possible. It'll lead to an interesting character arc !
Also fuck that priest.
[X] [Teugen] Replaced. You will speak with Graf von Saponatheim, or whoever he sends to represent him, and make it clear that the Cult views the current situation in Bögenhafen's leadership as responsible for this mess. The Graf will likely clean house, dissolving the council entirely and assuming a more direct rule over the town.
Yeah, the town's current rulers can lose their jobs too. Why not ? We've seen nothing but corruption on every level. I don't expect the Graf to really fix things, but at the very least it'll be a chance to do so.
I don't think this guy deserves to actually die, but he definitely deserves to lose his job.
[X] [Edel] Heretic. Whether knowingly or through ignorance, Edel lent significant aid and guidance to a cult of the dark gods, and Bögenhafen nearly paid the price. You will publicly condemn and prosecute the man, and damn all warnings of his friends and patrons.
We must piss off as many important people as possible. It'll lead to an interesting character arc !
Also fuck that priest.
[X] [Teugen] Replaced. You will speak with Graf von Saponatheim, or whoever he sends to represent him, and make it clear that the Cult views the current situation in Bögenhafen's leadership as responsible for this mess. The Graf will likely clean house, dissolving the council entirely and assuming a more direct rule over the town.
Yeah, the town's current rulers can lose their jobs too. Why not ? We've seen nothing but corruption on every level. I don't expect the Graf to really fix things, but at the very least it'll be a chance to do so.
I wonder what Wind of Magic that Spätin would be compatible with and stick to it since in the Colleges of Magic, each member can use 1 Wind of Magic as their founder Teclis taught them the watered down ways of the White Tower.
LucidProp
Pocky Eating MafiaDoka
I actually laughed at that, a great way to break and invert all the tension that was building up. Can we keep Spatin around our retinue instead of giving her to the Colleges? She's a absolute riot.
Also, poor Ozzy. I like our halfling lawyer, but every time he gets involved with us, he suffers incredibly serious wounds.
Hopefully he gets that recommendation we promised him!
- Pronouns
- She/Her
hmm I'm thinking Disgraced, Incompetant and Repaid? Not sure what to do for the write in. Maybe apologise to the nice priest? There are all sorts of cool things to do at the festival but I'm not sure if any are inc haracter or markus or would make sense as something to do.
[x] [Goetrin] The Pyre. You will lay charges of conspiracy and blasphemous intent against the Captain, proclaiming that he willingly assisted a cult of the dark gods. He will likely be found guilty, regardless of his actual involvement, and sentenced to burn at the stake.
He was doing it for vengeance for a dude that had an innocent tortured by whipping and was going to burn her alive. Burn him.
[x] [Edel] Incompetent. You will make the necessary reports through the cult hierarchy to make it clear to the Arch Lectors the scale of Edel's failure. Likely he will be quietly 'promoted' to some forgotten corner of a distant abbey and a more appropriate high priest appointed. Perhaps Sigiwalt would like the job.
He needs to not be a High Priest anymore, the kid cannot hack it.
[x] [Teugen] Repaid. You will have a quiet word with the councilman, and make him see the wisdom of burying the hatchet. His wealth, and his connections among the nobility of Reikland and beyond, will be of great help to you and your agents in the future.
His sin was failing to cooperate. Let him redeem himself by actually cooperating, and because there's only so many enemies we can afford to make, we ought to make at least one ally and show some proper restraint.
EDIT: I cannot stress enough. Goetrin's friend tortured a woman for saying 'no' to his sexual advances, and was going to burn her alive. Imagine what Goetrin himself gets up to. I'd argue for a beheading if that was the vote, no sense torturing someone to death, but the sentence is the sentence. Shouldn't have been such a monster.
He was doing it for vengeance for a dude that had an innocent tortured by whipping and was going to burn her alive. Burn him.
[x] [Edel] Incompetent. You will make the necessary reports through the cult hierarchy to make it clear to the Arch Lectors the scale of Edel's failure. Likely he will be quietly 'promoted' to some forgotten corner of a distant abbey and a more appropriate high priest appointed. Perhaps Sigiwalt would like the job.
He needs to not be a High Priest anymore, the kid cannot hack it.
[x] [Teugen] Repaid. You will have a quiet word with the councilman, and make him see the wisdom of burying the hatchet. His wealth, and his connections among the nobility of Reikland and beyond, will be of great help to you and your agents in the future.
His sin was failing to cooperate. Let him redeem himself by actually cooperating, and because there's only so many enemies we can afford to make, we ought to make at least one ally and show some proper restraint.
EDIT: I cannot stress enough. Goetrin's friend tortured a woman for saying 'no' to his sexual advances, and was going to burn her alive. Imagine what Goetrin himself gets up to. I'd argue for a beheading if that was the vote, no sense torturing someone to death, but the sentence is the sentence. Shouldn't have been such a monster.
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[X] [Goetrin] Disgrace. Graf von Saponatheim will be sending a representative to the town, and you expect they will be eager to be seen 'cleaning up' the town. Goetrin will likely be stripped of command and sent home in disgrace, tarnished with this failure in the eyes of his peers.
[X] [Edel] Incompetent. You will make the necessary reports through the cult hierarchy to make it clear to the Arch Lectors the scale of Edel's failure. Likely he will be quietly 'promoted' to some forgotten corner of a distant abbey and a more appropriate high priest appointed. Perhaps Sigiwalt would like the job.
Not sure about third one. Lean to "replace" but we could use someone who owes us.
[X] [Edel] Incompetent. You will make the necessary reports through the cult hierarchy to make it clear to the Arch Lectors the scale of Edel's failure. Likely he will be quietly 'promoted' to some forgotten corner of a distant abbey and a more appropriate high priest appointed. Perhaps Sigiwalt would like the job.
Not sure about third one. Lean to "replace" but we could use someone who owes us.
[X] [Goetrin] Disgrace. Graf von Saponatheim will be sending a representative to the town, and you expect they will be eager to be seen 'cleaning up' the town. Goetrin will likely be stripped of command and sent home in disgrace, tarnished with this failure in the eyes of his peers.
[x] [Edel] Incompetent. You will make the necessary reports through the cult hierarchy to make it clear to the Arch Lectors the scale of Edel's failure. Likely he will be quietly 'promoted' to some forgotten corner of a distant abbey and a more appropriate high priest appointed. Perhaps Sigiwalt would like the job.
Outright killing him sits poorly, but they absolutely deserve a tongue lashing.
[X] [Other] Arrange a fitting reward for Adhema and Ozzy.
Saving an entire town is surely its own reward, but I'm sure we can further help them along.
[X] [Other] Give a glowing report on Sigiwalt and recommend that he be promoted.
[x] [Edel] Incompetent. You will make the necessary reports through the cult hierarchy to make it clear to the Arch Lectors the scale of Edel's failure. Likely he will be quietly 'promoted' to some forgotten corner of a distant abbey and a more appropriate high priest appointed. Perhaps Sigiwalt would like the job.
Outright killing him sits poorly, but they absolutely deserve a tongue lashing.
[X] [Other] Arrange a fitting reward for Adhema and Ozzy.
Saving an entire town is surely its own reward, but I'm sure we can further help them along.
[X] [Other] Give a glowing report on Sigiwalt and recommend that he be promoted.
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MaHaL
Conductor of the Choir of Death
- Location
- Canada
[X] [Goetrin] Disgrace. Graf von Saponatheim will be sending a representative to the town, and you expect they will be eager to be seen 'cleaning up' the town. Goetrin will likely be stripped of command and sent home in disgrace, tarnished with this failure in the eyes of his peers.
To be fair, as far as he knows all he did is imprison a possible loose cannon witch hunter. That doesn't deserve getting burnt at the stake but he's not exactly an unfortunate but competent man we want to keep his position.
[X] [Edel] Heretic. Whether knowingly or through ignorance, Edel lent significant aid and guidance to a cult of the dark gods, and Bögenhafen nearly paid the price. You will publicly condemn and prosecute the man, and damn all warnings of his friends and patrons.
Little bastard ruining everything by being a nepo-baby who wouldn't take a witch hunter seriously. I doubt we can pull this off but I think making the attempt fits best with Markus at the moment.
[X] [Teugen] Recalled. You will not resort to the courts for this, but make it publicly known to all Bögenhafen what Teugen did and what the consequences almost were. Merchant families depend on their good reputation more than coin; likely, he will lose his job on the Council and his entire house will face very hard times until they can redeem their good name.
The entire council wasn't incompetent or heretical, reference that one guyw ho got shanked helping us, so I don't think we need to tear it down.
To be fair, as far as he knows all he did is imprison a possible loose cannon witch hunter. That doesn't deserve getting burnt at the stake but he's not exactly an unfortunate but competent man we want to keep his position.
[X] [Edel] Heretic. Whether knowingly or through ignorance, Edel lent significant aid and guidance to a cult of the dark gods, and Bögenhafen nearly paid the price. You will publicly condemn and prosecute the man, and damn all warnings of his friends and patrons.
Little bastard ruining everything by being a nepo-baby who wouldn't take a witch hunter seriously. I doubt we can pull this off but I think making the attempt fits best with Markus at the moment.
[X] [Teugen] Recalled. You will not resort to the courts for this, but make it publicly known to all Bögenhafen what Teugen did and what the consequences almost were. Merchant families depend on their good reputation more than coin; likely, he will lose his job on the Council and his entire house will face very hard times until they can redeem their good name.
The entire council wasn't incompetent or heretical, reference that one guyw ho got shanked helping us, so I don't think we need to tear it down.
LucidProp
Pocky Eating MafiaDoka
I can think of no other lawyer willing to stand up and fight two daemons in a row, the second one fresh after he just recovered from a life threatening illness. If nothing else, Ozzy deserves that letter of recommendation, even if he'll swear off ever meeting Markus again.
[X] [Goetrin] Disgrace. Graf von Saponatheim will be sending a representative to the town, and you expect they will be eager to be seen 'cleaning up' the town. Goetrin will likely be stripped of command and sent home in disgrace, tarnished with this failure in the eyes of his peers.
[X] [Edel] Incompetent. You will make the necessary reports through the cult hierarchy to make it clear to the Arch Lectors the scale of Edel's failure. Likely he will be quietly 'promoted' to some forgotten corner of a distant abbey and a more appropriate high priest appointed. Perhaps Sigiwalt would like the job.
[X] [Teugen] Replaced. You will speak with Graf von Saponatheim, or whoever he sends to represent him, and make it clear that the Cult views the current situation in Bögenhafen's leadership as responsible for this mess. The Graf will likely clean house, dissolving the council entirely and assuming a more direct rule over the town.
[X] [Other] Arrange a fitting reward for Adhema and Ozzy.
I would like to burn all these people on the pyre for playing with the lives of an entire town and completely failing in their duties to the Empire, Sigmar, and the people they rule over. We can't be a Witch Hunter Quest if we don't burn at least one person at the stake!
However, we saw how Markus' reputation really made his investigation difficult. We can't afford to make more enemies, and the disgrace they suffer will haunt all three for their entire lives from this point on. That's justice enough for me as while they were all terrible at their jobs, they didn't knowingly work with Chaos. They were fools and idiots, but that alone doesn't deserve death, just condemnation. Let's save the pyre for people like Franz Steinhager, and these three can go and contemplate on how they can repent and redeem themselves if they don't wallow in their misery forever.
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[X] [Other] Arrange a fitting reward for Adhema and Ozzy.
No idea on the judgements, but I think this is earned.
No idea on the judgements, but I think this is earned.
Sertorius
Rebellious Legate
- Location
- Roma Invicta
Praise be to Sigmar! We were extremely lucky to have won that. Outnumbered and outmatched, but Ranald was with us, as promised. Our little band really came through, especially Spätin. Without her, we wouldn't have won. Another Daemonslayer in the party, while for Ozzy and Adhema this was their second encounter with one and they surely will have plenty of things to talk about later. They have already seen and fought more daemons, than many Witch Hunters throughout their whole career.
As for the idiots, that almost got the town infested with daemons...
[X] [Goetrin] The Pyre. You will lay charges of conspiracy and blasphemous intent against the Captain, proclaiming that he willingly assisted a cult of the dark gods. He will likely be found guilty, regardless of his actual involvement, and sentenced to burn at the stake.
To hell with him. He shall be a lesson on why you shouldn't try to screw with a Witch Hunter. He had this coming. We only succeeded thanks to the timely assistance of pious folk (yeah right...) and he failed miserably.
[X] [Edel] Heretic. Whether knowingly or through ignorance, Edel lent significant aid and guidance to a cult of the dark gods, and Bögenhafen nearly paid the price. You will publicly condemn and prosecute the man, and damn all warnings of his friends and patrons.
He actually actively defended the Ordo before us and in his communication with his superiors. That is enough to get him a one way ticket into the fire. Such incompetence is contagious if not downright treasonous.
[X] [Teugen] Replaced. You will speak with Graf von Saponatheim, or whoever he sends to represent him, and make it clear that the Cult views the current situation in Bögenhafen's leadership as responsible for this mess. The Graf will likely clean house, dissolving the council entirely and assuming a more direct rule over the town.
[X] [Other] Arrange a fitting reward for Adhema and Ozzy.
[X] [Other] Give a glowing report on Sigiwalt and recommend that he be promoted.
[X] [Other] Arrange to pay for the murdered woman's funeral and rest in the nearest Garden of Morr.
[X] [Other] Arrest and investigate the Stevedores directly involved with guarding the ritual site.
[X] [Other] Return to the High Temple of Sigmar and spend some time praying for your god's guidance. You came face to face with a formidable servant of the Great Enemy and perhaps came out not unscathed. Clear you mind, find your focus, reflect. Fortify your soul to face the trails ahead. Maybe now, with you holy duty complete you will find a semblance of peace and answers.
They really deserve it.
As for the idiots, that almost got the town infested with daemons...
[X] [Goetrin] The Pyre. You will lay charges of conspiracy and blasphemous intent against the Captain, proclaiming that he willingly assisted a cult of the dark gods. He will likely be found guilty, regardless of his actual involvement, and sentenced to burn at the stake.
To hell with him. He shall be a lesson on why you shouldn't try to screw with a Witch Hunter. He had this coming. We only succeeded thanks to the timely assistance of pious folk (yeah right...) and he failed miserably.
[X] [Edel] Heretic. Whether knowingly or through ignorance, Edel lent significant aid and guidance to a cult of the dark gods, and Bögenhafen nearly paid the price. You will publicly condemn and prosecute the man, and damn all warnings of his friends and patrons.
He actually actively defended the Ordo before us and in his communication with his superiors. That is enough to get him a one way ticket into the fire. Such incompetence is contagious if not downright treasonous.
[X] [Teugen] Replaced. You will speak with Graf von Saponatheim, or whoever he sends to represent him, and make it clear that the Cult views the current situation in Bögenhafen's leadership as responsible for this mess. The Graf will likely clean house, dissolving the council entirely and assuming a more direct rule over the town.
[X] [Other] Arrange a fitting reward for Adhema and Ozzy.
[X] [Other] Give a glowing report on Sigiwalt and recommend that he be promoted.
[X] [Other] Arrange to pay for the murdered woman's funeral and rest in the nearest Garden of Morr.
[X] [Other] Arrest and investigate the Stevedores directly involved with guarding the ritual site.
[X] [Other] Return to the High Temple of Sigmar and spend some time praying for your god's guidance. You came face to face with a formidable servant of the Great Enemy and perhaps came out not unscathed. Clear you mind, find your focus, reflect. Fortify your soul to face the trails ahead. Maybe now, with you holy duty complete you will find a semblance of peace and answers.
They really deserve it.
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