# The Sign said... REWARD



## Necrogorewizard (Sep 13, 2011)

right guys here it is, the long awaited action thread to my RP. im just going to lay down a few rules before we start.

a decent post length please, the only exception to this is if your character is having a conversation with another character, and then obviously the reply post will be short.

be descriptive guys, and dont hesitate to ask questions via PM.

so without further ado... here we go...


It is the Imperial year of 2405, Magnus the Pious smashed the forces of Chaos 100 years ago today. But your a long way from Kislev. You are in Ostram now, lured here for a multitude of reasons, but what none of you yet realise, is that the events that are to take place in this seemingly quiet town. Will shake the very foundations of the Empire for centuries to come...

You take a seat in the tavern, the Imperial shilling in your hand. Staring around you once again, take in the sights and sounds and especially the smells of the decrepit beer house. The jeering of a group of young men as one of the better endowed bar maids walks round collecting empty tankards, the crying for more ale from the two stout dwarves in the centre table, and the hustle of the small crowd gathered round them marvelling at the epic drinking competition. The silent gestures of dark clad men watching the crowd for drunkards to leave, and then swiftly follow them out only to return minutes later, their coin purses bulging just a bit more. The heavy stench of stale beer and flatulence, body odour and the perfume of the illustrious ladies of the night, proffering their trade to any that would take notice. After several moments of looking round, suddenly a make shift band starts up with every drunken soul in the tavern joining in the song of merry making, and womanising.

A figure enters the bar, a squat man his arms corded with muscle, flanked on either side by two men, both of whom looked to be brawlers, each baring their fair share of broken noses, cauliflower ears and leathery beaten skin. With some importance the man marches up to the Captain and after a brief discussion during which the Captain points to you all, the man motions to his allies, and they split up each of them seeking you out.

“You are to come with me to the guard house where you will then be led to the sewers” they say with a practised efficiency. Upon closer inspection you notice tied round their biceps are red strips of cloth making them out to be the towns deputies of the watch. They band you all together and lead you out into the cold autumn air, and in a procession they walk with lumbering steps to the large stone guard house. The sergeant on duty offers his stern thanks with a curt nod to each of you, even offering his hand to the wizards, and he steps aside to reveal a small, grubby man with a dirty rag tied round his neck like a bandit. The sergeant clears his throat noisily, and says “this is Kendler,” he gestures to the man with his hand, “he is all that is left of the towns sewer guard, he will be your guide on this little endeavour... best of luck to you all” and with that he and the assembled thugs return to the guard house.

Stepping up to Kendler, the sturdy warrior priest asks in his thick accent “Lead on mein heir, and on the way tell us of these monsters”
following the pungent man around the town you notice that every window is barred, every door is locked, and numerous strange and folk lorish trinkets hand from many doorways and window frames, to ward off evil you can only assume. The journey ends just outside the large graveyard which dominates the town, and Kendler gestures to large metallic grill which covers a hole in the ground. Reaching into his long coat he removes his hand clutching a strange crowbarish instrument, and with quick efficiency he deftly removes the manhole cover and drops to the metallic bars leading down into the gloom. Before he disappears down the hole he gives one quiet warning, “stay close mein heiren, one wrong step down in the dark and that will be the end of you”...


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## Necrogorewizard (Sep 13, 2011)

Sorry guys forgot to say what I would like from your first post (thanks santaire)
Your first post should include how you arrived in the town and why, your experience in receiving your shilling, your opinions of the others when you meet them, and then your journey in and around the town ending up at the sewers.

Be as descriptive as you like, and include anything you like. Ostram is a large town, and there's lots to see and do. Happy posting guys.


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## Necrogorewizard (Sep 13, 2011)

Heinrich sniffed the rain soaked air, and grimaced, his vestal battle robes were muddy and wet through, and the rain petering down off his bald head was running into his eyes, and yet he wouldn't stop. Not until he reached his destination, the town of Ostram. Muttering a prayer to holy Sigmar, Heinrich trundled on, his feet not once slipping on the muddy dirt road leading to the town. He had picked his destination thanks to tales from travelling merchants along the road telling him of a town haunted by monsters and that all who went in search of them never returned. He was sure it was a sign, sent to him from holy Sigmar, a sign that Ostram was the place that needed him next.

After another solid half an hour of sodden marching, through the dark, wet night. Heinrich arrived at the towns gates. His relief at arriving soon evaporated when he realised that the gates were shut and barred. His annoyance coming to a head, he unhooked one of his gilded war hammers from his belt and forcefully banged it against the large gate and shouted after “I am a warrior priest of holy Sigmar, Heinrich Kesseltine is my name. By the light of all that is holy let me in!” after a couple more drenching minutes, a portal opened in the gate at head height and a slim, hard worn face leered through, it saw the disgruntled priest standing there looking very angry and quickly shut the portal, there was a loud jingling of keys and seconds later, a smaller man sized door opened in the gate, “Sorry father, but you cant be too careful these days, what with all the monsters around and us being short staffed an all, the guard captain said we should keep the gates closed and monitor all visitors to Ostram” the man was short but well built, and was wearing a very grubby version of a town militia uniform. Heinrich had to bite his tongue when looking at the man so as not to tell him to smarten himself up. But he would be having a word with the man's captain. He strode past ignoring the man completely and made his way to the tavern.

Walking through the town, Heinrich noticed the absence of people on the streets, even for a quiet autumn evening, there should have been at least some people wandering the dark. Every building that he passed was plastered with fading white rectangles. Crossing to inspect one, Heinrich read the sign. Grunting he ripped it off and bunched it up into one of his belt pouches. “monsters” he scowled. He crossed under the shadow of the large tower that punctured the skyline of Ostram, its strange collection of lenses and windows atop making the priest scowl. “wizards” he scoffed, and made the protective sign of the hammer across his breast.

Pushing open the doors to the tavern, Heinrich winced as the wave of stench hit him, and the smoke attacked his eyes and nose. Glancing round the tavern Heinrich took in the motley assortment of patrons. The two dwarves drunkenly shouting for more ale, the large sweating figure of the ogre bouncer, a large group of leering youths, and an imperial signing station. Heinrich joined the cue of people standing waiting to be seen by the Empire Captain, and stepped up proudly when the thick Germanic voice called, “Next” the captain looked up from his parchment and stifled a look of surprise at seeing the warrior priest standing there, after a few moments of stunned silence the Captain, took a shilling from his belt pouch and outlined the task in hand
“what I need from you father, is to group with some like minded people here tonight and to go and investigate the sewers near the river for me, then report back with what you find, and if you succeed you will be rewarded, how much will obviously depend...” the warrior priest cut him short with a raised hand, 
“I require no reward captain. I am doing holy Sigmars work, and I will see this task done.”

Taking the shilling from the captain and turning on his heel, the captain called out to him, “Father, I apologise that for company this evening, you may have to scrape the barrel” he gestured to the rag tag assortment of individuals inhabiting the tavern. Heinrich answered him with a curt nod. Taking a seat in the middle and refusing ale from a well endowed serving girl, Heinrich sat and took stock of the people he would supposedly be working with. The grim faced witch hunter, the tall mysterious elven looking fellow, even a lady of supposed high birth, Heinrich shook his head, looked down at his sodden robes and sighed heavily. With a sudden bang, the tavern door lurched open as if kicked in strolled six largely built men, their leader was a short but thickly muscled man, and Heinrich immediately suspected foul play, and his hand loosened the cords of his war hammers underneath the table. The men went over to the captain of the Empire, and he stood and pointed out several figures including Heinrich himself. The cadre of men separated and one of them approached the priest, the hulk of a man stopped short in front of Heinrich's table and said with a practised voice “you are to come with me to the guard house where you will then be led to the sewers... Father” the last word almost a second thought as the thug realised who he was addressing. These men were of the watch? Heinrich thought to himself... what has this town come to? Rising to his feet and re fastening his weapons to his belt, Heinrich followed the thug outside and was met with his fellow cohorts.

Scrape the barrel was right, the priest thought to himself as he looked at the collection of adventurers. The two elves, tall and haughty, they could be twins for all he cared, the sinister witch hunter, catching his eye, Heinrich gave the man a nod of approval, the gigantic ogre seemed not to care that he was here as he gnawed on a what seemed to be a lamb bone, more interestingly though were the others, the feral looking wizard, quite obviously a wizard and of the Amber college if he wasn't mistaken, with bits of bone and amber tied into his hair and beard “Heathen” Heinrich muttered under his breath, then there was the other wizard, the dark cowled stranger who he assumed was a wizard he corrected himself, the man's black and purple robes hiding his features, and the heavy black staff the man leaned on giving away his profession. His eyes left the cowled stranger and rested on the women, he raiment's shabby and grubby, but her demeanour haughty and noble. “probably another damn wizard” Heinrich grumbled to himself, although from what school he didn't know, he would definitely have to keep his eye on her, and then there was the armour clad stranger, if Heinrich didn't know any better, the man was Brettonian, he had fought battles against them during his time with the army, and the man certainly held himself in the same high regard that the other noblemen of that strange land did, however he had never seen one looking so... dirty.
With little time for introductions the group get shepherded by the men through the town, through parts which Heinrich hadn't yet seen, a blacksmith, his chimney pouring smoke, but his doors barred, everywhere in fact, had its doors closed and its windows shut tight. As they passed what seemed to be living quarters, Heinrich noticed small effigies posted on the houses and reaching out he plucked one from a window frame, upon inspection he made it out to be Wolfs-bane the plant, probably put there to ward off evil spirits. “superstitious fools” he muttered crushing the plant in his hand. And dropping it to the floor. The streets were poor and disgusting now, with filth crusting in the corners of doorways, and rats scurrying away from the cadre as they marched by.

It wasn't long before they approached a large several story building made of stone. And as they arrived a gruff sergeant stepped out and began nodding at everyone in acceptance, and even shaking the wizards hands. He wore a well used hauberk of leather over what was once a fine Imperial suit, “greetings travellers!” he exclaimed arms held wide, “may I be the first, to thank you on behalf of Ostram for your part in this strange event”. The guard house was swept clear of the muck and foulness that plagued the rest of the town, but it looked like the sergeant had been the one to do it, he positively stank. After a small introduction, he indicated a small man who stood unassumingly behind the sergeant. “this is Kendler, he is all that is left of the towns sewer guard” the man stepped forward, his cloths poor and ill maintained, the only clean garment he wore was a cloth round his neck which might have been worn as a mask “he will be your guide in this... endeavour... the best of luck to you all” and with that the sergeant clapped his hands, two of the thugs stepped into the party and offered a package each to the Witch hunter, and then the Brettonian Knight, and then together with his team of thugs the sergeant returned to the brick safety of the Guard house.

Stepping up to the small man, Heinrich said “lead on mein heir, and on the way tell us of these monsters” the man scurried off, stopped and gestured for the party to follow. Seeming to ignore Heinrich. The pace was quick and the man walked silently, only turning occasionally to make sure the group was still with him.
“graveyard this way mein heiren” he whispered with a point, and then continued his scurry. The pace was no problem for the majority of the group, although Heinrich noticed that several of the party members were a bit short of breath after the half run. It wasn't long before the towns massive graveyard loomed up ahead of them. And Kendler stopped short, beneath his feet was a large and menacing looking bronze grill, obviously one of the towns sewer covers, with a wry grin, Kendler reached into his long coat, and retrieved a long device that looked to Heinrich at least like an over sized crowbar. The man manipulated the lock mechanism on the grill with the device, and it clicked open, then stooping, Kendler dragged, with some effort, the plate away from the opening. He semi lowered himself into the whole, his feet catching the steel rungs with practiced ease, and before he disappeared he whispered one last warning, 
“Stay close mein hieren, one wrong step in the dark, and that will be the end of you”
Heinrich watched the man swiftly descend the ladder and grimaced as he stepped up to the hole, “i fear no monster” he recited as he too stepped down into the darkness...


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## Black Steel Feathers (Aug 17, 2011)

Despite having lived for a year 'on the run', Hilde Von Ostlander had a deep suspicion that she would never get used to life as a fugitive. Most of her fellow Chaos-worshippers- men and women from all walks of life- soon got used to their sneaking, hand-to-mouth existence, but there was still a streak of noblewoman's pride in her that wouldn't let Hilde bend so easily. She still carried herself like her mother and grandmother had; she still ate with the manners of a noblewoman at a high feast, even if she was picking at half-burnt rabbit while surrounded by walking corpses. She could never sleep in a ditch or on a hay bale without thinking longingly of her old feather bed. Despite losing house, family and sanity, Hilde was hanging onto her deportment for dear life. 

She, after all, was the last of the once-mighty Von Ostlander and she had a reputation to uphold.

This was why, at this moment, she was to be found on a wild wet night, trying vainly to remove the worst of the mud off her knees with what remained of a lacy hankie. The Plague Maiden gave a sigh, noting that the muddy roadside wasn't the best place to petition her patron for help; she had been praying for a sign or symbol to help her see her path, since Hilde had the feeling she had rather lost her way recently- both literally and figuratively. Not to mention her Cult, the majority lying in ashes in some backwater village. Hilde had only just escaped with her life, and had been praying for some sign from the Plaguefather that she was still in his favour. Part of her was having misgivings about her wording, saying giving signs of the future was a rather Changer-Of-Ways thing to do. The rest of Hilde overruled that part, pointing out that she was lost, alone and in danger of becoming some starving animal’s midnight snack. The fact that any animal mad enough to eat her would be signing it’s own death warrant didn’t make her feel any better.

It was with great relief and a little worry, then, that Hilde registered the sound of slow hoofbeats coming up the road. She squinted her eyes to see better, one hand on her short sword and muscles tensed so that she was ready to flee if needed. Slowly a horse and rider came into view, a horse and rider of such odd paleness that they seemed to glow like an earthbound moon. They passed Hilde without batting an eyelid, all four sets of eyes fixed straight ahead and both heads hanging as if cursed with eternal exhaustion. This was a surprise, as they passed so close to the noblewoman that she could have reached out and touched the man’s yellow-green stained robes if she had wished, or used the horse’s skeletal ribcage as a xylophone. 

Hilde stood still for a second and let the rider plod ponderously past, a frown creasing her young brow; then a penny seemed to drop and she grinned, hoisting her pack higher up onto her back and stepping into the road. If this wasn’t a sign, then she was a Daemonette of the Dark Prince. “I saw a pale rider and his name was Death, and hell followed after; his power was to kill with war and with Death and with the beasts of the field…” she muttered, fully aware that she hadn’t quite remembered it right. “Or was it ‘with war and famine’? Either way, he’s getting away…”

She followed the pale rider’s slow progress through the night, and soon they came up to a set of gates; the rider stopped around twenty metres away, gazing silently at the wooden surface as if expecting them to open on their own. Hilde watched him for a second, then marched up to the gates and gave them a good sound knocking. A skinny face peeped through the portal, and Hilde gave it her most charming smile- one that nonetheless had a very upper-class note to it, a hint of you-will-obey-me. 

“Good evening.” She said, nodding and expecting the doors to open at any moment. To her annoyance, they didn’t; how very rude. Time for a little more charm, then. “I’m just a lone woman, travelling after my home town was raided by Beastmen. I just want to find somewhere to sleep. Could you let me in? …Please?” she added, the last word obviously coming with some difficulty; she wasn’t used to saying please to commoners. To her relief, the lies worked and she heard a jingle of keys as the gates were unlocked.

“Sorry about that, ma’am, we all have to be careful- what with the monsters about.” Said the gatekeeper, but Hilde was hardly listening; she had taken a glance behind as she walked in, and noticed to her surprise that the pale rider was gone. Either he had shown hitherto unsuspected speed, or he had vanished into mid-air. And speaking of which, why hadn’t the Gatekeeper asked about him- come to think of it, did he even see him?

“It’s quite alright.” Replied Hilde distractedly, turning and taking her first real look at the town. It was grim, especially grim in this weather, and something about it made Hilde think that it may be haunted; maybe it was the general aura of the place, but most likely it was the myriad of protective charms that hung around every-boarded up window. The Plaguefather was also the god of hopeless despair and Hilde was pleased to see his touch very clearly on the townspeople, even if she didn’t know exactly why she would be needed here. It looked pretty converted already, if you asked her- nicely downtrodden, nicely filthy. Maybe this was just to keep her spirits up, to show her what she could achieve with a little time. The perfect town. 

Then Hilde saw the posters lining almost every surface, and drifted across the road to read one better; perhaps this was why the pale rider had led her here, not just for the holiday. “Monsters, I see… And a reward that could be sizable.” She read aloud, reaching up one velvet sleeve to scratch an arm and accidently removing a large part of her epidermis as she did so. Removing the hand, she placed it on her hip as she thought. “Well, it’s true I haven’t had as much money as I’d like lately- ever since the fall of Richenbach. Serves me right for betting, especially against a shaman… Hrmm. I suppose there’s no harm in seeing what’s what.”

With that, Hilde set off to find the tavern mentioned in the poster. It only took her a few minutes, the sound of drinking and singing being audible from nearly a street away; she wrinkled her nose in disgust at the drunks decorating the pavement all around but continued, pausing only to subtly sprinkle some grey dust one whose face somehow offended her. With a heave of her small arms the door was open, the wall of noise and stench that issued outwards almost forcing her to take a step back. It wasn’t the smell that shocked Hilde- as a follower of Nurgle, that foul miasma to her was like the perfume of roses- but the sheer rowdiness of the place and ever-present threat of violence in the air that even she could sense. It wasn’t place a blue-blood (okay, more of a greenish-grey blood now) like her belonged and everything, from the people’s faces to the foul songs they sang, said that loud and clear. Still, it wasn’t like she had a choice. Putting her hand firmly on the hilt of her short sword, Hilde stepped in and let the door close behind her.

It took her longer than she’d have liked to wind her way across to the signing-up point, dodging around groups of drunken men- or even women- and pointedly ignoring slurred invites for ‘little woman’ to come and join them in a drink. ‘_If they only knew… Oh, they’d get a surprise!’_ she thought viciously, as someone tried to pinch her bottom and got a slapped hand for his pains. Hilde glared at the man, then at the doll-painted lady of the night who’d had the audacity to giggle at her. The temptation to give them all a ‘present’ was almost overwhelming, to leave them with a crop of fresh boils across those garishly painted faces; she wasn’t sure if there was a disease that made a man’s pride and joy fall off, and made a mental note to find out. It sounded like just the ticket these leering apes, something to teach them a lesson.... _Not now, Hilde. You’re supposed to be blending in_. she thought, coming out her pleasant daydreams; she needed to keep her wits about her so she didn’t slip up and give the game away.

A very acute reminder of why she was blending in came when she joined in queue of her fellow-adventure-seekers, a group of people- if they could be called such- that made Hilde seriously doubt if the Plaguefather did indeed have his grand-daughter’s best interests at heart. She had just joined the line in front of a man who could only be a warrior-priest of Sigmar, and if her eyes didn’t deceiver her there was another man who looked suspiciously like a witch-hunter. Add to that the elf and the two wizards, and this group was beginning resemble one of Hilde’s nightmares. ‘Calm down, Hilde. They don’t know you. Give them no reason to suspect and you’ll be fine.’ She assured herself, channelling the spirit of a hundred Von Ostland women and standing straight and proud; no follower of any lesser god was going to cow her, no sir.

Still, it came as a great relief when she could take the Shilling and find an out-of-the way place to sit. Even then she was flirted at and hassled by many drunken men, who obviously had completely the wrong idea about Hilde and her availability. To make matters worse, none of them took ‘no’ for an answer. She was at her wit’s end and becoming very tempted to stab someone, or at least give them a nasty crop of warts, when the Deputy of the Watch came to collect her. Closing her ears to the catcalls that erupted all around them, Hilde followed him into the chilly night, along with her fellow adventurers. 

She was silent as they walked to the Guard House, keeping her eyes on the others as she tried to size them up; she also kept her mouth shut when they were introduced, silently nodding her approval of Kendler’s appearance. Maybe he was a fellow follower, his job and approach to personal hygiene suggesting it was so. But how to tell? After that, of course, she needed to use her breath to keep up with the party’s swift pace. Even if Hilde was more used to running than she used to be, the attire of an Imperial noblewoman wasn’t made with running through towns at night in mind, and she cursed her decision to keep her corset. It didn’t matter if it did look good on her petite frame; it would all be academic once the Plaguefather blessed her more, soon it probably wouldn’t even fit her.

Hilde caught her breath as Kendler opened up the bronze grille with his oversized crowbar- compensating for something, perhaps?- and rolled her eyes and let out a sigh at his warning. Like the warrior-priest, she wasn’t afraid of monsters. She worked alongside them every day, after all, and it could even be said that she herself was a monster. “Please.” She said to nobody in particular. “Is he trying to put us off or something? Only children are afraid of the dark.” 

With that, she followed the guide and the warrior-priest down the ladder, moving daintily and making sure that nobody could see up her skirts.


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

Walking down the main street of Ostam, his armour clanking slightly with every step, Bernard couldn't help but feel disgusted at this town with it's filth encrusted streets, and people who were no better than the dirt they walked on. Fear radiated from the very homes of the people here, and he saw that most traveled in groups, scared to their very cores of some unseen menace. If this were his homeland, knights would of been sent from the ruler to combat anything that threatened their town, and they would never of resorted to hiring outsiders to take care of their own problems. Shaking his head slowly, he was painfully forced to remind himself that Brettonia was no longer his home, and he steeled his mind against the pain such thoughts brought. There was work to be done here.

As he walked, he began hearing what sounded like a bustling tavern towards the center of the town. Coming into full view of it, he scoffed at the beggars outside whom were just as drunk as the patrons of the tavern. Stepping inside, he was assailed on all sides by a multitude of different sights, smells, and sounds, none of which were pleasant in the least. Having been in the Empire for 6 years now, he was somewhat used to this, and began moving to the imperial signing station. Shouldering his way through the crowd was not much of a problem for him, as he was fully armored save his helm, and many were reluctant to stand in the way of such a figure. 

Waiting patiently in line, he was watching the pair of drunken dwarves engage in their drinking game when a voice shouted " Next!" and he turned and stepped forward. As the captain gave him a once over, eyes lingering on his heavy broadsword and shield, he nodded slightly before speaking. The man spoke of a sewer nearby, and how Bernard was to be paired with a group of people from this very tavern to investigate it with, before handing him an imperial shilling. Reaching inside his cloak, Bernard nodded to the man, before putting the shilling in a pouch at his side. Turning away from the station, he waded through the crowd to the bar, plucking a mug of ale from a passing wench on his way.

Before he could drink much of the ale, a pair of thugs stepped up to him on either side. Turning and resting his hand on his broadsword, he adressed them. "May I help you" he asked quietly, before they responded. “You are to come with me to the guard house where you will then be led to the sewers” they say with a practised efficiency. Draining his mug of ale, Bernard stood and followed the men outside, grimacing slightly at the sight of those he was to be grouped with. 

As he looked over the group, Bernard felt slightly angry as he saw the pair of elves, longbows strapped to their backs. To be grouped in with cowards that killed foes from a distance was almost as bad as doing it yourself, and he forced himself to hold his tongue. As he looked over what appeared to be a couple of wizards and a witch hunter, his eyes settled on the striking young lady with a short sword strapped to her hip. Seeing the way she held herself, there was not a doubt in his mind that she was of noble blood, and perhaps he would speak to her later. As he looked over the warrior priest, he felts slightly glad to be travelling alongside him, as he had heard tales from his fellow knights of how these priests fought with great valor against them. Cringing at the sound of the giant ogre gnawing on what appeared to be a lamb bone, he turned and followed the pair of thugs as they led the group away from the tavern.

As they traveled through the town, Bernard felt his mind wandering to better times, when he was a young man in brettonia, his acceptance as a knight errant, being granted the title of knight of the realm. As they reached what appeared to be a large stone guard house, Bernard was brought out of his daydreaming by a sergeant who stepped forward and nodded to each of them in turn, before stepping aside to reveal a small, grubby man with a dirty rag tied round his neck like a bandit. Clearing his throat noisily, the sergeant spoke " This is kendler " he said, gesturing to the grubby man. “he is all that is left of the towns sewer guard, he will be your guide on this little endeavour... best of luck to you all” and with that, the sergeant clapped his hands, the two thugs stepping forward to hand Bernard and the witch hunter a package. 

As the sergeant and his two thugs left, Bernard opened the package, taking out a lamp with fuel and flint to light it. Before he could protest, for Bernard was a warrior, not some lamp bearing weakling, the warrior priest stepped forward and spoke to the sewer guard. “lead on mein heir, and on the way tell us of these monsters” before the man scurried off, and Bernard was forced to jog to keep up. Coming to what appeared to be the graveyard, Bernard saw that Kendler had stopped, his feet over a large looking sewer grate. Pulling out a large bar, Bernard watched as kendler unlocked the sewer grate, and smiled slightly as the small man moved the plate, obviously having trouble with its weight. 

As Kendler lowered himself halfway into the sewer, he whispered one final warning before descending. “Stay close mein hieren, one wrong step in the dark, and that will be the end of you”. "Please" he heard the noblewoman say behind him, “Is he trying to put us off or something? Only children are afraid of the dark.” chuckling, he put on his helm, before lighting the lamp and following the warrior priest into the darkness.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

For three days Veran had spent his coin and eaten his fill in the wild Tavern that was the center of social life for the small village of Ostram. The scent of the place filled his nostrils. Sweat, blood, mead, days old meat, and the odius stench of the whores that filled the small room to the point of driving a man mad with disgust. It was Veran's kind of pub. He hated the uptight well to do establishments that dotted the imperial landscape, here, in this rat trap of a common room, man reverted to his most bestial desires. Here Veran felt as much at ease among humanity as was possible for him, mead pouring down his chin and into his belly, roasted meat sating his hunger, and the constant haze of pipe weed in the air. 

Glaring into the corner of the pub, he once again took in the rag tag appearance of the Imperial soldiery that was soliciting adventurers. Veran shook his head in annoyance, these fool soldiers payed others to do what their yellow bellies lacked the courage to do. It was the opinion of the townspeople that the place was plagued by monsters. Veran had seen no evidence of any such thing in the last three days, unless you counted the bastard he caught watering his mead his first night here. All the same the soldiers of the empire should be earning their wage, dealing with the 'reports' themselves rather than paying good hard shillings to disgraced soldiers and displaced elves to investigate for them. Veran would agree to go along for the ride, something compelling him to participate in this farce the same as it had three days ago when he happened upon the village to begin with.

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The winds ruffled through the feathers of a great hawk that soared across a startling blue sky, buffeting the fierce bird of prey with updrafts as the warm summer air mixed with the frigid breeze of the upper skies. Expertly riding the drafts this overly large specimen of the local Red tailed hawk, piercing eyes fixing upon the ground several hundred feet below, narrowed as they took in a blemish on the landscape. For miles in all directions stretched great planes and mighty forrests. Bastions of the wilds, home of the darker stronger things of the old world. This blemish, this human town was as a stain upon a piece of fine white silk. Unnatural, abhorrent, and unsightly. 

Eyes narrowing the great bird's wings snapped closed with practiced efficiency, and the hawk plummeted to the earth. As it fell its all to human emotions reveled in the elation of the fall, the glory of flight, the speed and power that this form wielded. 

Its journey had been several days long, miles and miles covered, looking for something. The thing that compelled it onward like the shrieking mating call of its species. Unable to resist the beast had turned its course, abandoned its familiar ground, and flown. Following the call of an unknown source. That journey was close to its end. A finality of purpose driving the beast to the ground. Back to the realms of humanity. Of filth, disease, and pettiness. 

The hawk fell like a stone, wings snapping open at the last second carrying it parallel to the ground, 5' above the earth, a mear 100 feet before the entrance to this warren of human stink and suffering. The men of the watching standing guard let out a shrill cry of surprise as the winged predator drew down on the gates. Their surprise turned to shock as they watched the wings of the great bird shrink and morph in a twisting of unreality, a nauseating flash of power. The beasts legs elongated, clawed talons, shifting to booted feet. Its great sharp beak, melted into the form of a feral human face, rage and savagery shining like fires behind the man's eyes. It was as if a man had stepped from the sky where the hawk had once been. His long legs striking a swift pace, staff thumping in rythm to his stride, on the sunbleached road. 

Walking past the stunned guards Veran Malda, Wizard of the Amber College, took his first look at Ostram, and indeed his first look at the first human settlement he had set foot in in over 6 years. What sorcery or devil had brought him here, compelled him to come? Whatever the answer to the question may have been was lost as Veran's eyes fell on the tavern, the smell of cooked beef, and fresh mead reached out to his sensitive nose and caressed him through the doors before him. 

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

As he continued to watch the line of people signing up to get their measly shilling for helping the Empire, Veran couldn't help but notice that the signs of a promised reward had drawn in a wide and varied crowd. All that meant to Veran is that there were people everywhere. 

Drawing his stubby handcarved pipe from a pouch and tamping it full of weed, he pulled a long splinter off of the table in front of him and shoved the end of the spar of wood into the lantern hanging on the wall above his head. Taking several long drags from the pipe, he grimaced at the bitter aftertaste of the local tabac, but found the body and scent of the smoke most pleasing. 

Through the haze of smoke that now ringed his head he watched as a man, unmistakably a warrior priet of Sigmar, a human noble woman, and fully armored knight took their turns at the table, and realizing that prolonging his stay in the tavern was getting him no where, he stood to make his way in their direction. Pushing through the crowd, though most of them gave him a wide bearth. One incredibly drunk specimen apparently took offense at something that Veran had done, spun fists raised, drunken violence in his eyes. The man's courage and bladder failed him as he saw who he faced, and with an inhuman growl in the man's direction, Veran strode past him. Damn fools.... They are as sheep before the slaughter. No courage, no strength. 

Stepping up to the table he but glared at the Captain sat behind it, and watched the man fumble his papers and squirm in his chair.“What I need from you, is to find some like minded people here tonight, and go and investigate the sewers near the river for me, then report back with what you find, if you succeed you will be rewarded, how much will depend on the information that you gather and the proof you bring to support your claim” The man managed to get out as he passed an Imperial shilling in Veran's direction. 

Veran but stared at the thin piece of metal. Picking it up between his thumb and forefinger Veran reached over and dropped it back into the man's lap. _"Keep your trinkets sonny," _Veran growled in his gravely voice around the stem of his pipe,_"I only wish you to know that I am at the service of the Empire, since you and your men seem to be unable to deal with the foe. I care little for your rewards and monies." _Making his mark Veran strode back to his table taking in the patrons around him. Besides the Warrior priest only a human woman, that Veran would have bet money on having been of high birth judging by the size of the rod that appeared to be shoved up her backside, and a man in full plate armor had come through the line and seemed to be waiting for the next step in this adventure that had been promised. Around the room though he saw several Elves, a man who was unmistakeably a witch hunter whose appearance brought another feral growl to Veran's lips, startling on of the serving women to the point that she almost dropped her tray laden with drink. Veran's eyes narrowed as he took in the frail looking man, seated in a corner, clad in robes of purple and black. The hair on Veran's arms tingled and he could almost feel the aura of Shyish coalescing around the man. One needed to be on their guard when Death's servants were involved. Veran even noticed to his surprise that an Ogre loomed in the back of the tavern. An interesting group indeed. 

His observations were halted as his view was onscured by two massive men. Veran leaned his head to the side to look around the two and saw that a third man speaking with the flustered Captain who nodded in his direction as well as pointing outseveral others the Priest and the noble woman among them. On of the two brutes said with a practiced efficiency that made Veran wonder how many times he had taken new adventurers on this trip, _“You are to come with me to the guard house where you will then be led to the sewers” _Men of the watch by their arm bands. Veran had come in contact with them on his first night in the village as well. His disagreement with the tavern owner over the mead, had come to involve several of these poor saps. They had steered clear of him since then, and these two looked positively nervous to be speaking with him. 

Wordlessly he took up his decanter of mead and followed them out into the dark streets of Ostram, along with several of the other individuals he had seen in the bar. He had noted when he had first arrived that the town itself was disgustingly filthy by imperial standards. Despair and gloom hung about the town like a wet blanket in summer's heat. Sigils and ward signs adorned every door attempting to scare away evils and the people stayed indoors after dark. At the guard house they met the sergeant on duty that introduced the group to a grubby little street rat by the name of Kendler. He stank of human refuse and moldy air, his clothing disgustingly filthy save for a clean rag that was tied around his mouth and nose. _"He is all that remains of the town sewer guard," the watch sergeant proclaimed,"he will be your guide on this little endeavor... best of luck to you all." _With that he turned and took his guards back inside the crumbling building. 

The little urchin Kendler led on at the request of the warrior priest and in no time flat the group had crossed the town at a shambling run, ending up just outside of the town's graveyard. Kendler opened his coat and produced a long crowbar that he used to pry open a manhole near the cemetary wall and no sooner was the lid removed, the man had disappeared into the darkness below with a warning to stay close to him. The Warrior priest, Heinrich Veran thought he heard the man say, followed close behind Kendler, and the Noble woman, and the fully armored warrior, lamp in hand went in next .

Taking one last look at the open sky above the town, Veran made sure that his weapons were near ready, his staff in hand, he followed them into the gapping hole and was swallowed into darkness.


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## aboytervigon (Jul 6, 2010)

Ogred has been staying at the pub for a week, sleeping all day and drinking his sorrows out all night. Today the place was alive with sweaty men and dolled up wenches, though Ogred had no concern for either as long as they left him alone but that night something happened, two men came over to him drunk as sin and ready for a fight with what ever they could find.
"Oi you, whats that your eating ugly?" 
Ogred chuckled for he knew they would not like the answer.
"I think 'is name was Bernard" forcing it out through grinning teeth and a hearty belly laugh, immediately the men's confidence was shaken and there eyes started darting all over the place eager to find a place they could run too. One man's eyes unfortunately fixated right above Ogred's left eye, the word "lyer" was carved above it and if the man knew about Ogred's temper he would of moved them as soon as he could.

"what 'uz lookin' at?" 

"Nothing...Nothing nnnnothing at all" 

"Are you lookin' at ma scar?"

"NO! why would I?"

"Your a liar, and uz knowz what happen' to liars?"

Ogred slowly rose from his five chairs spilling them all over the floor, his presence becoming so opposing that you could choke on it. 

"nnnno?"

"LIARS GET KICKED OUT" 

As soon as the words had left Ogred's huge lips he picked up the man as easy as a child would lift a feather and through him through a closed window, it took a few seconds for you to hear the soft and satisfying thud, later that night Ogred got so drunk that he actually became interested in the people in the tavern. There was a noble woman who had a lovely stink akin to rotting flesh around her and if Ogred had two brain cells to rub together he might of been curious why, a man who had all the ferocity of the wild and Ogred had no doubt in his tiny little mind that the man could easily beat him in a fight with strength to spare, several elves that made Ogred very hungry for toothpicks and also many many sweaty men one of which had a hammer that looked like an Ogrelings plaything. 

It took Ogred little less than 2 minutes to finish Bernard after a brief moment of interest however it took several men less than 10 seconds to enter the tavern and start bossing people about, it took less than 3 seconds for a man to realize he was talking to an ogre and run off screaming but being bored to tears Ogred decided to follow everyone to see what this was about. He was led through a huge are of slums in which Ogred played his favourite game in his head "Dinner or snack" after a brief little interlude of counting to five they stopped at a man hole cover and several men and a woman slipped down it before Ogred could say.

"I ain't gonna fit in Der"

The guide was annoyed at this little problem to say the least and he showed it by yelling down the manhole and sighing a lot, nether the less the guide said that they would go down a different path and the people in the sewer already would have to make there own way, Ogred said good luck to the people in the sewer.

"Catch me a few good rats"

and they set off.


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## Necrogorewizard (Sep 13, 2011)

*GM*--------------------------------------------------------------------------*GM*

"I aint gonna fit in der" the thunderous voice of the ogre came echoing down the long shaft leading to the sewers, cursing Kendler looked round at the small group already clustered in the access passage, lit as they were by the small, but strong light of the Brettonians lantern. fumbling in his many pockets, Kendler removes a dirty piece of cloth and hands it to the Brettonian, "take this mein heir, this is my map of the sewers we will meet you in the northern flow chamber" begrudgingly accepting the soiled rag, the Brettonian quickly proffers it to the others, sighing noiselly the amber mage steps forward and takes it. when there attentions return to the small guide, he has already placed himself back on the ladder. " I will send one more down mein heiren, then begin to make your way to the northern flow chamber" and with that he scurries up the ladder almost spider like in his speed...

... The party that hadnt descended yet looked at the Ogre with mixed emotions, some amusment, others annoyance, when suddenly the grubby face of Kendler poked through the open man hole, obviously irate he called down the hole "Im sending them down to you now" he turned round and motioned to one of the tall elves "You should join them down there, they will have need of your eyes" waiting for the Elf to journey down the ladder, he closes the manhole cover, and turns to the rest in the party, "Follow me then mein heiren, the night grows old" he leads you on a quick paced tour of the graveyard exterior until you come to a small quay in the river, and running down the wooden docks you all come to another manhole cover, this one is larger however, "for machinery, you see" with another quick manouvere of his tool, this grill is soon removed too and stepping over the threshold, Kendler gives you all a quick look of annoyance, before turning into the darkness.


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## Black Steel Feathers (Aug 17, 2011)

Hilde made a face when the manhole cover was shut, crossing her arms over her chest. It wasn't so much the idea of being shut in the damp, dirty and smelly sewer that got her down- she was rather fond of the damp and dirty and smelly nowadays- but the idea of being shut in the damp, dirty and smelly sewers with a small party of her worse enemies. The only good points were that the atriciously uncouth orge was gone, she hadn't been sure if she could have kept up her pretence of ignoring it for much longer, and that the sewer's natural odour would most likely mask her own. Hilde was surprised that nobody had commented on it, but she supposed most of them weren't exactly smelling of roses either- let he without glass houses cast the first stone and all that.

Hilde gazed at the underside of the manhole for a few seconds more, then turned to face the rest of the party; the Brettonian's lamp cast a circle of light that lit them all up quite eeirily, and for a second she was reminded of the ghost stories her nurse used to tell her, back when she was a child. Poor nurse. She missed her sometimes, but definately didn't miss her tales of ghouls and ghosts and things that lurked in the shadows, waiting for young maidens like her to wander past... Despite her boasts of not being afraid of the dark, it was hard for her not to shiver and she felt the sudden urge to edge closer to a big, strong man.

The nearest big, strong man didn't eat deer raw or burn people like her at the stake happened to be the Brettonian, so Hilde took a couple of subtle steps towards his armoured form and paired a brief glance at his face with a lightning-quick smile. She may be a woman, and rather tiny to boot, but Hilde still had her pride and wasn't about to embarrass everyone by flinging herself at his knees like some useless chit of a girl.

"I take it that we should be moving as soon as possible?" she said, more to break the silence than anything else, looking at each of the party's faces in turn. Hilde paused for a second, realising that she didn't know any of their names. "But... Before we do, I think some sort of introductions are in order. I, for one, am not prepared to trust anyone's whose name I don't know. As my father used to say, it's much easier to kill someone if you haven't been formally introduced... Also, one finds it's so much more cival when you can call someone something other than 'Hey, you- yes, you with the hammers!'"

She paused, waiting to see what the rest thought of her idea, and braced herself against possible scorn from some quarters; the Amber Wizard didn't look one for manners, and if there was one thing Hilde liked it was manners. That's what she despised in the Khornites, their utter lack of subtlety and decorum. Slaaneshi, she'd found, weren't much better. Worse in some ways, in fact.


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## High_Seraph (Aug 28, 2009)

Loehangren was stalking a proud stag for a day when he had eventually tracked it down. Drawing an arrow from the quiver over his shoulder he very carefully took aim with a quick prayer to Loec he released the arrow. Watching the arrow sail through the air towards the deer hitting it in the chest just right to strike the heart limbs jerking around in the death spasm. Loehangren broke cover and went to the fallen stag. Upon reaching it he tried to pries his arrow loose but it is stuck and he manages to only break the arrow in the stag. _"Loec teases me I see. I have made an easy kill but have lost my arrow. Such are his games."_ Loehangren says to the shadows around himself. Quickly butchering the corpse for meat and burying the remains before heading out in search of Lilean. 

Finding nothing in the vicinity, pausing only to unstring his bow, Loehangren starts down the road towards a village or town. Walking along the road Loehangren pulls the hood of his cloak up to cover his ears and block out some rain as it had started very suddenly. Lifting his scarf he covers his mouth and most of his cheeks so that only his amber eyes are readily visible. Meeting few travelers along the road Loehangren's hopes of questioning someone about any battles fought around here in the past year or so quickly fade with the sunlight. Continuing down the road he spots the walls of a somewhat important town. *Hah those walls couldn't keep undisciplined orcs from getting into the town let alone anything more dangerous. Pathetic humans, how have they lived for this long? Oh yes with our help along with those dwarfs.* Checking his gold bag Loehangren is distraught to see he has no more human money left. *Well it looks like I'm going to have to visit that town instead of continuing my search.*

Reaching the gates Loehangren is unsurprised to find that the ignorant humans have closed them after dark as if that could stop any horrors from getting in. Walking up and pounding on the gates Loehangren wears a sneer of disgust upon his face. When the gatekeeper looked out from his position and gave Loehangren a penetrating look before asking, _"Why hide your face stranger? Remove the hood and scarf and state yer buisness at Ostram?"_ Aghast at the sheer audacity of this human Loehangren's eyes widen and he curses at him in high elvish evicting a gasp from the gatekeeper before gathering himself and removing his hood and scarf showing his face. _"My name is Loe. I have come in search of work to earn your cursed coin to continue my own travels. Open the gate you bloody fool! It is raining out in case your mind couldn't grasp that simple fact. Just because I am an Elf doesn't mean I prefer to be outside when it rains. Open the gates and be quick!"_ Loehangren responded with acid dripping from every syllable. 

As the gatekeeper opened the small door in the gates Loehangren got the first smell of the city itself. *Khaine destroy this place and the smell. How could they chose to live like this? This is utterly disgraceful! How can we be allied to such a monstrous race as this? The dwarves are better than these foul humans! This is truly sickening.* Loehangren thinks these things as he walks through the city looking for any fliers promising reward. Noting all the filth and mud along with garbage that has piled up in the streets. The wild dogs that roamed the town looking at him as if he was their next meal. Approaching one wall where faded squares of parchment hung Loehangren sees the promise of reward. *Though it sickens me to think of what horrors await down there if this is how they treat the public facade I have no choice in this matter.* Walking swiftly through the city towards the tavern he keeps up the internal monologue of deriding the town and it's citizens. 

Upon arriving at said tavern Loehangren's nose is assailed by the odor permeating the area around the Tavern. Wrinkling his nose in disgust he covers his nose and mouth with his white scarf and enters the bawdy establishment. Opening the door he is met with the unpleasant sight of of humans, both male and female, drunk and even more unseemly than usual for them. Picking his way gingerly around tables and passed out drunks on the dirty floor that might as well have been dirt for all the cleanliness of the place. Passing what seemed to be a wizard of some bastardized school of magic, with bits of bones and crystal tied into his own beard, at the signing point Loehangren's eyes narrowing in suspicion of him. Upon reaching the "Captain" Loehangren reaches down to pick up his schilling. Scrawling his name in runes he quickly leaves the man and finds a table along the wall putting his back against it. Ignoring any attempts from the bar maids to get him to order any drink he waits for the damn humans to get around to telling them where they are needed. Looking around the tavern Loehangren notices an ogre for the first time eyes widening in shock that it was allowed to enter the town at all. *Idiotic humans!! Don't they know that ogres are not to be trusted at all?! Why is that thing allowed to be here? I should leave here now and forget about this "reward".* Loehangren thinks to himself as a group of men enters the tavern strutting towards the "Captain" who points to the "Wizard", himself, a female human, the ogre, another elf that had joined them, a knight of something in his heavy plate. Walking with them Loehangren easily outpaces most of them to stay upwind of the ogre who smelled of rotten meat and barely digested food.

Upon reaching the guardhouse the group was introduced to the Sergeant who call ed forth a man who stunk worse than then ogre who had accompanied them. *"He is all that remains of the town sewer guard," the watch sergeant proclaimed,"he will be your guide on this little endeavor... best of luck to you all." * With that he turned and took his guards back inside the crumbling building. Once again trying to stay upwind of the party Loehangren sees the armored knight look at him and the other elf with a look of hatred at the bows they carried. Reaching the manhole Kendler bent down to remove the lid and crawled down quickly followed by the woman, the man with the bits of bones and stuff in his beard and the human knight. 

*"I ain't gonna fit in Der"* Loehangren hears the ogre talk and is suddenly very glad his bow isn't strung at the moment as he might have released a few shafts at the ogre in his annoyance. As Kendler reemerged and he pointed at him says, *"Im sending them down to you now. You should join them down there, they will have need of your eyes"* Loehangren promptly goes down the ladder to get away from the overpowering musk of the ogre. Reaching the bottom Loehangren takes out his bow and strings it in case any enemies actually exist down in the sewer. When the woman walked toward the knight she said, 

*"I take it that we should be moving as soon as possible? But... Before we do, I think some sort of introductions are in order. I, for one, am not prepared to trust anyone's whose name I don't know. As my father used to say, it's much easier to kill someone if you haven't been formally introduced... Also, one finds it's so much more cival when you can call someone something other than 'Hey, you- yes, you with the hammers!'"
*

_"Well since it's proper manners shouldn't you have introduced yourself first girl? My name is Loehangren if you can pronounce it with your feeble human tongues. I suggest we not linger anywhere to long or we might die from the sheer stench of this place."_ Loehangren responds with barely concealed scorn.


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## Black Steel Feathers (Aug 17, 2011)

Hilde hadn't expected love and flowers from the elf, but even then his barely concealed scorn stung her; she leant back slightly as if avoiding a blow, her green eyes narrowing as she looked the Loehangren from top to toe. It only took a few seconds for her pride to not only overtake but completely swamp her hurt feelings, and an expression of patrician annoyance made itself at home on the young woman's face. When she spoke, her tone was laced with frozen venom.

"My name is Lady Hilde Von Ostlander and I am not a girl, but a woman. I have seen too much to be a girl. From anyone else I would consider that a deep insult- but in your case..." She paused for a second or two. "...Loehangren, I suppose we can chalk this one down to inexperience. I don't suppose elves see much of humans to know the difference." 

Her tone made this very clear that she thought this was a perfectly good thing; the elves, her tone said, could have their tangled woods and enchanted islands and be welcome to them. It keeps them away from decent people with actual problems, was the faint unspoken message. Immortals, eh?

This was actually the first time she'd met an elf face-to-face, and was slightly dismayed that this one had matched up to all of the stories she'd heard about them; he was rude, scornful, and very much holier-than-thou. Just like her father and father's friends had said they were like. _Never trust an elf or dwarf as far as you can throw 'em._ went the traditional song of her area, much sung- or bellowed, according to season- by those who once worked under her family. The words came to Hilde now, and she wondered why she remembered them. 

Drawing herself out of her thoughts, she remembered something else. _The stench of the place? And what, then, do elven sewers smell like? Or don't they have sewers- does the broom handle they seem to have up there render them obsolete? Anyway, there's nothing wrong with the smell!_

"And I'm very sorry, I'm sure, for the state of your superior elven nose," she added with elaborate insincarity, "but we humans haven't found away of making the contents of our sewers into roses and violets. Perhaps that's something the elves could share with us?"


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

Veran listened as the two spoilt children of different worlds compared the size of their respective packages. Shaking his head in disgust at their antics. He already longed for the open spaces of the vast forrests that he had made his home and the simplicity of the interactions between beast and foul. In the wilds it was simple.... The strongest and most clever ruled. He roughly pushed himself passed the arguing pair. 

"If you ladies have something more pressing to be about I am sure that you can head back to the common room and discuss it over a nice cup of tea," he jeered. "I am moving on down the line. Leave it to an ogre to rob us of our guide."

He touched the piece of amber that was nestled in the hollow of his throat, the piece that incased a Xebatan fire beetle, and with an effort of will activated the bound spell contained in the gem. Light as bright as true afternoon sunlight suddenly lit the corridor infront of him and without a backwards glance moved further into the tunnels, unlimbering one of his wickedly cruved sickles as he went


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

*Zacharias Strang*

Zacharias pulled his last bolt from the beastman's chest, then paused to look around at the carnage surrounding him. They had been tracking the herd for over a week, following it's trail of slaughter and bloodshed from scorched village to burned homestead. Unfortunately it seemed they'd somehow increased their numbers and as they'd come howling out of the night the soldiers had little enough time to react. His own men were dead, slain in the final minutes of the battle, although the hedge witch he had been chasing had fallen to his sword as well.

He sighed, most of the herd had fled, with the last of the Empire hunting party chasing them down. There was almost nothing left for him to loot on the battlefield and he realised he would have to start his band again, as he had done many times before. He made to wipe his sword on the beast's fur, thought about it for a moment, then walked a little way away to wipe it on a patch of clean grass before sheathing it at his side. The crossbow was hung from his belt and he turned his back on the field of death before quickly striding away.

_____________________________________________________________

Three days later he came into view of the small town, he stopped on a small hill just outside of the wardens' vision and watched as the gate swung open, a flickering light illuminating a tall figure stood before the doorway. The sounds of a one sided exchange floated over the landscape, and while he couldn't make out the words he could hear the scorn in the tall strangers voice. Dismissing it he started off again, in a few minutes he was knocking on the gates and a glare and a palmed coin soon had him through into the town.

Glancing around he saw the poster illuminated by the flickering lamplight that spilled from the guardhouse. He inspected his money pouch, it was disappointingly slack these days and he couldn't keep bribing guards with false coinage. He smiled to himself before walking further into the town, losing himself in it's darkened streets.
_____________________________________________________________

He pushed the door open gently, he of all people knew the value of the theatrical, but also when it wasn't required. Strolling over to the seated captain the rain dripped from his coat as he stopped in front of the heavy table, he held out a hand wordlessly for the shilling, signed the list, then moved off into the crowd to find a table.

One of the serving women approached, obviously hoping to solicit an order or perhaps a more profitable enterprise from the traveller, but he shook his head and waved her away as he sat down with his back to the wall. The table was in the corner, and he had a good view of the smokey room. There were a variety of other obvious adventurers scattered around the room and he studied at them from beneath the wide brim of his dripping hat. There was a Warrior Priest, his robes steaming slightly in the heat of the room, two elves, a Knight, some sort of noble woman, the huge form of an Ogre, and, this made him sit up slightly, hand resting on the pommel of his sword, two wizards.

One was tall and well built, arms corded with muscle, his beard was twined with bone and other small trinkets, while more charms hung from cords around his neck. The man looked wild but still had the unmistakable air of the Amber College around him, power fairly rippled from him, Zacahrias sensed he would not be a man to cross. The second man was more interesting however, pale and thin, with an aura of death about him. He was dressed all in black, a mage of the Amethyst college perhaps, but he looked particularly gaunt for a wizard, their skills were often in high demand after all.

_____________________________________________________________

He was distracted by the thug who came and stood before him “you are to come with me to the guard house where you will then be led to the sewers." Zacharias looked the man up and down, before standing and following him out into the street. The other 'adventurers' he'd seen were gathering into a group that was soon enough led off. He hung towards the back, behind the two wizards so he could keep them in view, unfortunately this also meant he got a faceful of the ogres particularly choice scent of raw and rotten flesh, carried from overlarge molars crusted with chunks of meat from past meals. He wrinkled his nose, only part of his face followed on, most of the nerves having burnt out in ages past.

They stopped soon and Zacharias was handed a lantern and flint, he quickly lit it, paying little attention to the captain's words before following the small man, Kendler, wasn't it, with an even choicer scent than the Ogre's. They reached a manhole cover and the Brettonian descended first, shortly after him the scruffy woman, who nevertheless held herself as a noble followed. “Is he trying to put us off or something? Only children are afraid of the dark.” Zacharias smiled to himself as she and a number of the others disappeared into the darkness, "you may learn just how dark it can get little miss."

With that he turned and followed the remainin half of the group into the darkness to find an entrance into the sewers big enough for the ogre. Kendler levered it open, "for machinery you see" he said with an affronted look, before vanishing into the darkness. Zacharias ducked in after him, sword ready and lantern held before him...


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

Listening the the elf's reply to the noble woman, who had sidled up quite close to him he noticed, he bristled slightly at the insult to humans. Remembering the elf had a longbow, Bernard smiled slightly at the thought that this cowardly being thought itself better than Bernard. Before he could speak his mind, however, the wizard spoke. "If you ladies have something more pressing to be about I am sure that you can head back to the common room and discuss it over a nice cup of tea," he jeered. "I am moving on down the line. Leave it to an ogre to rob us of our guide." 

Letting loose a bark of laughter, Bernard spoke. " I think i shall join you, good wizard, for a cup of tea and the company of an Elf does not sound very pleasing at all. he said, as the Wizard lit the sewer up with a spell. Quickly extinguishing the lantern to save the fuel, Bernard hung it on his belt, drew his heavy broadsword and shield, and began to follow the Wizard down the dank sewer.


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## BlackApostleVilhelm (May 14, 2008)

A body lay on the dark road, completely stripped of all life, a crippled husk forever paralyzed in pure fear. Its white eyes stared accusingly in the direction of what had preyed on it, a tall dark figure in black and purple robes walking away on down the road, gently leaning on its tall black staff as it made its way from its dinner. 

Lucius Darkwood licked his cracked lips with his dry tongue, he hadn't eaten since he had left his home, fearing that if he preyed on someone too soon he would be found by the witch hunters again, and that was one thing he did not intend to happen again. He could feel the power emanating from the small city in front of him, the whole of it completely lit up with magical energies, this was why it was his destination. Fifty years he had been in a coma as the last rites of his ritual took hold over him, and some time during those fifty years it had been taken from him by some adventurous treasure hunters who had sought to plunder his family's lavish estate.

He had been angered when he had awoken and realized what had happened, this being combined with the sudden impulse to feed on the life force of living beings had caused him to kill what had remained of the small town his family had ruled over, their combined essence regenerating enough skin on him so that he looked somewhat alive, despite the fact that he still had no eyes. He had just gotten those back, along with enough meat, hair and blood so that he could walk around with nothing concealing his face and masquerade as his now dead brother, this was going to be a fruitful venture for him. 

As he neared the town he practiced his breathing, he had no need for it but he couldn't have people staring at him in awe as they watched him hold his breath for the whole night, he was still physically very fragile and could be beaten to death by anyone determined enough. Finally walking into town he smiled at those who stared him, he had a performance to keep up, after all his life depended on it. 

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

The arrival of the warrior priest had put him on edge, and now he was not only traveling with a rag tag group of strange adventurers but there was a witch hunter not fifteen feet in front of him, but it was the woman who held herself like a noble that simply bled energy that had interested him most. He couldn't quite put a finger on it, it was certainly magical in nature but it seemed somewhat wrong to him, as if it did not belong within the natural balance of all magic. 

Even though he was considered a monster by many nations his magic was pure in its nature, he was a font for pure death magic, and death was a natural part of all life that was feared because it was misunderstood. But like all forces of nature it has tendencies that cannot be ignored, death's endless hunger driving most of its wielders to prey on innocents who did not deserve their grim fate, Lucius prided himself on being just one of those wielders.

Darkness and the stench of filth and death had been constant for their trek through the sewers, his mind filling with joy when it became apparent their destination was a graveyard, he slowly got closer to the other wizard in the group. From what he could tell he was from the Amber College, Lucius couldn't really pinpoint why he would be here, and he wanted to know why such a strong presence was here.

As they continued on and eventually lost their guide Lucius brought himself alongside the mage, *"Greetings friend, this place is drenched in energy, can you feel it?" *


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## Black Steel Feathers (Aug 17, 2011)

Hilde had laughed her upper-class laugh at the knight's words, the smile still on her face as he extinguished the lamp and followed the wizard; she moved to keep up with him, keeping a watchful eye on the damp walls and dripping ceilings, illuminated by the amber glow of the wild wizard's spell. One hand was always on her short sword and ready to draw it- even if the noblewoman had a suspicion that with a knight, a witch hunter, three wizards, an elf and the rest, any threat to them would be a lump of dead meat before she could even say "Did anyone see that?".

Hilde was close enough to the Amber and Amathyst wizards- they hadn't introduced themselves, much to her disappointment- to just catch what the necromancer had whispered. With great difficulty she stopped herself from looking around at them, her thoughtful expression fixed straight ahead. Drenched in energy, huh? Maybe that was the reason that the Plaguefather wanted her here, to find whatever caused this great outpouring of energy- and maybe even produced the monsters- and bind it into her Grandfather's service. Oh, that would be an honour and a joy indeed.

Her smile widened briefly before she could stop herself, even if she did quash the urge to do a happy little wiggle; not only was that sort of display undignified, it might give the game away. Now she had to think of how to secure said item, if it was indeed useful to the Plaguefather's purposes. She was hopeful of success, but not overconfident.

_It isn't like I'm totally devoid of weapons, after all- I have my plague-scroll after all, and I'm perfectly capable of giving someone a little 'gift', if the worst comes to worst..._ she thought to herself, drumming her fingers against the frayed strap of her pack. _And the one who spoke... He has an aura of cold death around him, and the world of death is well within my Grandfather's grasp. An ally, perhaps? Our natures certainly match- I could certainly find means to tempt him, given time..._

Careful to keep up her innocent mask, the Plague Maiden began to plot.


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Emerthil walked slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. When he reached the town his lip curled with distaste but it was the town the seer had told him of and he had to enter. The moon shone bright above him as he banged a fist on the gate. A small flap slid open and a pair of eyes looked out. “Don’t want no elves,” the man growled and slammed the flap shut. Emerthil rapped on the gate again. Again the man opened the flap. “I told you to go away,” he snarled. Growing tired Emerthil drew his sword and rammed it through the gate, just to the left of where the gate keeper should be standing. The steel shone in the moon light and Emerthil heard a gasp of fear. “Open the door,” the High Elf said calmly. The man opened the gate.

Emerthil sheathed his sword and stepped into the town, noticing that the man’s hands were shaking with fear. Emerthil walked the streets for some time. The town was in a pathetic state of affairs. The streets were piled high with waste and the buildings were rotting heaps of timber. Charms hung on the doors, as if they could protect the people within. As he wandered he was approached by a huge man with hulking muscles and a dagger in a scabbard at his side. He also had a red bandana on his arm. As Emerthil knew little of the small towns of the empire he did not realize this signified the man’s position as a town guard. His hand grasped the hilt of his long sword. When the man kept coming he drew the weapon. The blade shone in the moon light and the patterns in the steel seemed to shine with an inner fire. The man stopped, dead and turned white faced. “I… I have been ordered to… to arrest you for assault against the gate keeper,” he stammered.

Emerthil regarded him scornfully. “Listen to me carefully human, I will not be stopped by you or any of your kind. I have a mission to complete and I will do so no matter what,” he hissed. The man, ashen faced, nodded and backed away. Emerthil sheathed his blade and returned to his wandering. He soon reached a tavern and entered. He saw an imperial captain sitting in one corner and joined a queue to reach him. When it was his turn he placed his hands on the desk and said quietly “I am here for the job.” The captain seemed bored and looked up saying “qualification?” Emerthil’s hands brought out his helmet from under his cloak. “This is my qualification,” he said. The guard captain made a hurried bow.” My apologies swordmaster,” he said formerly. He passed the shilling to Emerthil and the High Elf picked it up carelessly. He walked away from the table and took a seat at a booth, arranging his sword so that it did not sit uncomfortably on his back.

A thug walked up to him and said threateningly “come with me.” Emerthil rose and followed the man outside. Once outside the man drew a knife and pointed it at Emerthil. “Give me the helmet,” he snarled. Emerthil regarded him coldly, like a serpent observing its prey. The man faltered, realizing he had perhaps bitten off more than he could chew. Emerthil swept his cloak backwards, revealing his armour in all its glory. The man backed off, hesitated and then ran. Emerthil chuckled dryly before entering the tavern again. During his absence several others had arrived. Emerthil sat back at his place and waited. It didn’t take long for the men to arrive. A door was slammed open and 6 men strode into the tavern. One of them glared at Emerthil and the Elf recognized him as the one who had tried to apprehend him earlier. He gave a cold smile and the man looked away. Emerthil stood when the men approached him and followed them into the night.

He examined the group of people he was with. A fellow High Elf, probably of the Shadow Guard considering his predatory stance and the way his eyes darted from side to side. An ogre and Emerthil stepped back from him. The humans were mad; ogres were not to be trusted. 2 wizards, one of the amber college and another who seemed to be of the amethyst college. Emerthil’s hand gripped his sword’s hilt for the man seemed to be a Necromancer, a type of mage Emerthil hated with a passion. A warrior priest of Sigmar, a ‘noble’ woman and a Witch hunter. A motley crew at best, a disaster waiting to happen at worst. Emerthil slipped down the grating without complaint and began to walk, following the others. A faint light shone from under his cloak and he looked down to see the gems in his helmet glowing faintly. He paled slightly, that meant hostile magic was near. He pulled the helmet on and dropped the cloak from his shoulders so that his equipment shone in the light of the lamps. He walked past the others and drew his sword from its scabbard, the blade hissing as it left the sheath. He ignored the argument between his fellow elf and the human woman and focused on the path in front of him. He heard faint whispers in the darkness and banished them with a thought. He slowed when he heard the amethyst wizard say to his fellow "Greetings friend, this place is drenched in energy, can you feel it?"

Emerthil could feel it and he shifted uneasily. Something was watching them…


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## Necrogorewizard (Sep 13, 2011)

The two groups will now be referred to as group1 one and group 2, 
group one consists of Heinrich, Veran, Emerthil, Hilde, Lucius, Bernard, Loehangran.

second group consists of Zacharius, Ogred and Kendler.

so with that established heres whats happening.
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GROUP 1.
the air is thick and and heavy in the sewers, the stentch of waste almost unbearable. you go to embark on your journey, but suddenly realise, you dont know which way is north, consulting the map you were given isnt much help either, there are two chambers which could be north, so the decision lies with the group, Up or Down? without the lamp light or Verans magic it would be impossible to see down there, and the wizard cant sustain his magic forever... its up to you the adventurers to make a decision. where to go...

Discuss either here or in the recruitment thread as to where you would like to go, and how your going to discern the direction in which you need to travel.
ill re-update once you have all reached a decision.
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GROUP 2.
feeling rather annoyed at each others company, you quickly follow the small guide through the passage of corridors that is the port side sewer entrance. the ceilings are low, and the Ogre has to stoop for quite a bit of the journey. after a while travelling through the dark, lit only by the witch hunter and the guides lanterns, you arrive in a large circular chamber, and stop so Kendler can gather his bearings when all of a sudden, there is a scuffling and a banging from the far eastern wall. BOOM, BOOM. the sound echoes through the silence, and Kendler draws a short stabbing blade from his coat, and motions that one of you two should check it out... preparing for battle, you advance towards the doors, unsure of what to expect... releasing the locking mechanisms barricading the doors from your side, weapons drawn, you pull them back to discover a rather angry and very dishevelled looking dwarf, unarmed and very unhappy dispite being freshly released, in the room next to it, you discover a weak looking human wizard, his once fine cloths ruined with the filth of the sewer, what will you do with the new found people, use them as allies, or mistrust them and put them to the sword?

i will update once introductions, and decisions have been reached.

any questions please dont hesitate to PM me, i apologise for the shortness of this update, but its mainly to get the ball rolling.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

_"Greetings friend, this place is drenched in energy, can you feel it?",_ the Amethyst wizard spoke in hushed tones to Veran. Part of him loathed the stentch of dead things that always surrounded the servants of Shyish. The goosebumps on his arms, the raising hackles on his neck all instinctual reactions to the presence of death caused a slight shudder to ripple down his spine. Though he loathed their presence for this reason, Veran had always been one to accept mages from all the colleges. The natural order of things, life, death, had been engrained into him for decades. He respected his collegues place in the circle, despite what he thought of some of the more radical practices of the Amethyst college. 

The Amethyst one's comment struck home. "Aye,"Veran growled,"it claws at my nose and prickles my skin with its presence." He turned his gaze to look the other mage directly in the eye, his own eyes flashing golden and cat like with pent up fury, "Dark things move in these tunnels. Beasts and magics alike." Considering that he had not introduced himself he finished by saying,"I am Veran Malda, honored brother, what are you called?"

Giving the mage a chance to answer he called out to the rest of the group and, after consulting the map he had been provided, he veered toward the upper tunnel as the passageway split,"I believe we should take this upper passageway folks," his deep voice echoing around the small enclosed tunnel, "The area Kendler indicated is just up ahead. Be wary though, I sense that we are not alone in these tunnels."


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

*Zacharias*

As they moved deeper into the labyrinthine sewers Zacharias felt his unease building, there was something unnatural in these tunnels and his instincts had always served him well. Then he noticed that the light shed by the lantern was apparently getting brighter, looking down, he swore, seeing the hammer on his chest blazing like a miniature star. While he knew that it had seemed to react to evil in the past he had never seen it so active, it's brilliance made the flickering light of the candle pale in comparison and he put it out, hanging it from his belt.

It wasn't long before they halted in a large circular chamber, Kendler had paused, it seemed, to gain his bearings. But as they stood there waiting for the small man to make his decisions there was a banging and hammering on the door at the far side of the chamber. Both Ogred and Zacharias turned towards the soudn instantly, while Kendler drew a short sword from his coat, motioning them forwards. Zacharias sheathed his sword, drawing his handbow, preferring it's effectiveness in the cramped conditions. He quickly loaded and cocked it, then inched forwards to release the bolts and swing the door open. An angry looking dwarf stumbled out, but was brought up short by the quarrel point that had been transferred from a point roughly a foot above his head to rest squarely between his eyes. Zacharias, stepped back, recognising that the Dwarf was likely a friend, not an enemy, even so, he indicated that he should move over towards where the ogre could see him.

The next door revealed a skinny wizard, faded and weak, wearing once fine clothes now ruined by sewage. A gestuing with the handbow brought him out of the cell and lined up next to the dwarf. Zacaharias nodded at the two of them, "gentlemen," he spoke, his voice deep and melodious, at odds with his ferocious appearance, "I believe introductions are in order?"


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## High_Seraph (Aug 28, 2009)

*"My name is Lady Hilde Von Ostlander and I am not a girl, but a woman. I have seen too much to be a girl. From anyone else I would consider that a deep insult- but in your case......Loehangren, I suppose we can chalk this one down to inexperience. I don't suppose elves see much of humans to know the difference."*

*So this is a so called human "noble"? How can they even claim that title? They are barely above the savages they came from.* Loehangren thinks this to himself as he prepares a scathing response but before he could the "Noble" continued with, "*And I'm very sorry, I'm sure, for the state of your superior elven nose, but we humans haven't found away of making the contents of our sewers into roses and violets. Perhaps that's something the elves could share with us?"*

*If you ladies have something more pressing to be about I am sure that you can head back to the common room and discuss it over a nice cup of tea. I am moving on down the line. Leave it to an ogre to rob us of our guide."* the wild mage had said as he roughly brushed passed Loehangren and the noble Hilde he was talking to for the moment. Shocked at himself for getting into an argument with a human Loehangren is pleased when she walks away from him but still uneasy as he gets the feeling of something watching him from the shadows. Taking up rearguard Loehangren watches for any sign of movement that doesn't belong to any of their shadows. Watching the other elf Loehangren is surprised to see he's a Swordmaster of Hoeth.

Catching up to him Loehangren asks him in High Elven, with very little scorn or acid in his tones _"What brings a Swordmaster of Hoeth to this little dirt ball of a town? I had thought to be one of the very few of our kind here and am a little worried about your presence here signifies. Also surely you feel something is here right?"_ waiting for a response and walking forwards until the group stops for directions Loehangren keeps is senses alert for any attack.

*"I believe we should take this upper passageway folks. The area Kendler indicated is just up ahead. Be wary though, I sense that we are not alone in these tunnels."
* the wild wizard had said his deep voice echoing along the tunnel. 

_"If that is true we should make haste. So at least others sense the same thing. There are eyes in the shadows that belong to who knows what."_ Loehangren finishes in the tongue of the empire.


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## Necrogorewizard (Sep 13, 2011)

Heinrich listened to the exchange between his companions, and gritted his teeth, his hands tightening round the shafts of his twin weapons. giving silent praise to Sigmar at the Amber mages words, he quickly took his place behind the feral wizard, and calmed his mind, steeling himself so he would be ready for anything in the darkness. staring out through the darkened doorway Heinrich could make out pin pricks of light reflecting back off of the mages light... there was something so familiar about the way they reflected, like some form of animal, but with a malign intelligence behind them. "prepare for battle everyone, theres something up ahead and it isnt friendly" Heinrich stepped past the wizard and began chanting loudly, a glow forming around his weapons, that slowly began to envelope his entire body. the glow crept into the room pushing the darkness back, and revealing a slow moving river of human waste running across the chambers centre. marching slowing into the room towards the small stone structure bridging the waste, his prayers to Sigmar continuing Heinrich stopped once the entire room was lit by his holy light, and stood atop the bridge he turned to the rest of his companions, scanning the room, trying to find the owner of the malicious eyes that had been glinting in the dark, The brettonian knight looked like he was about to say something, when Heinrich felt a hairy hand grab his ankle and pull him sideways off the bridge and into the steaming river of crap. with a curse and splash Heinrich dissapears below the surface, struggling with an unseen opponant. however, at this catalyst, several other figures claw their way out of the waste, they stand about four metres tall, but their bodies are crouched over, their bodies covered with lank, waste smeared fur, their faces that of giant rats their hands clutching crude but effective looking blades. one squeaks to another and they charge.

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*GM NOTE*
the enemy are of course skaven, and the characters wouldnt have seen a skaven before. there are at least two skaven for each adventurer, but if any of you want to go nuts then you can say more skaven climbed out of the river. have fun with the fight guys.


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## Black Steel Feathers (Aug 17, 2011)

Hilde had blinked confusedly for a second when the warrior-priest had told them to prepare for battle, then slid her short sword out of it's scabbard; she held it in a way that suggested that she's learnt how to use it the hard way, ie, with someone or something ernestly trying to kill her. Her slowly rotting nerves started to tingle, and she felt the first shiver of fear run up her spine.

Her eyes darted around like flies as Henriech's holy light increased, scanning the darkness for any signs of movement or clues as to what was stalking them. The eyes quite frankly gave her the creeps, and for once she was glad that the Plaguefather had seen fit to make her part of this group- without company, she doubted she would survive the inevitatible fight, if she had even got this far. The noblewoman had been edging closer to the knight as these thoughts ran through her head, her blade held up and ready to lash out at anything- friend or foe- that made a sudden move close to her.

Then the warrior priest vanished with a splash, and Hilde screamed.

Before the shrill noise had even stopped echoing the enemy appeared, twisted rat-creatures that resembled the Beastmen that cavorted in the Empire's woods; they were covered in waste, thick naked tails twitching behind them and a vicious low cunning shining from their eyes. Hilde had seen mutants and foul creatures before, but none quite like these... And usually they had been fighting together against the Empire, not against each other. One of them made a chittering noise at the other, and they all charged.

The Plaguemaiden barely managed to dodge the pitted metal spike her attacker aimed at her, spitting out a very unladylike swearword as she did so; metal clanged against metal as she parried the next blow, gritting her teeth as she used her little strength to prevent the blade getting any closer. The creature sent a whirling strike at her face that drew blood, it was only thanks to a well-timed but accidental stumble that she wasn't blinded. Hilde aimed a kick at the creature, hitting an area that her mother would be shocked she knew about. Apparantly it worked, as the rat-beast let out an 'oomph' and folded over, allowing Hilde to stab it in the neck. It staggered around for a handful of seconds, screeching unpleasantly, until the noblewoman gave it a wound to the belly that almost disembowled it. She had barely a second to bask in her pride before another one attacked.

This time she thrust her hand into her dress pocket, coming out with a hand full of grey dust and hurling it in the rat-beast's face; it seemed to cause the creature some pain, as it wailed and shook it's head from side to side. A careful observer might notice that steam was coming off it's fur and that it's skin was starting to crack like the earth under harsh sun; it was even bleeding in places. That didn't put it off attacking, though, and Hilde once more found herself parrying blows from a crude but effective knife. The wound on her cheek that she couldn't feel was bleeding quite heavily, the stench of her blood thankfully masked by the overwhelming smell of human waste that hung about. 

This rat-beast was more skilled in bladework that the first and Hilde found herself entirely on the defensive, being driven back towards the river of sewerage; she had no time to call or even gesture for help, her entire concentration being on not being spitted like a roast pig. _Where's a knight when you need one?_


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

Emerthil nodded to the Shadow Guard. "A seer sent me hear, whether my presence is needed is another matter." All through this conversation his eyes were darting around the place. Very little scared him but this tunnel did. It was too cramped and dark and the feeling of being watched had yet to subside. The warrior priest and noble woman walked ahead but Emerthil raised a hand to halt the rest of them. "Hold," he said quietly and his eyes scanned the room. He picked out a dark shape in the water but before he could call a warning the priest was dragged under.

Shortly afterwards the woman screamed and was beset by 2 creatures. Skaven! Emerthil had not fought the ratmen himself but had heard of them and now he started forward, blade outstreched. He approached the skaven attacking the woman, the other one having met its death at her hands and sliced its head off with a single blow. Without pausing in his stride he leapt into the water and plunged forwards to aid the priest. He drove his sword down into the filth, driving the blade through the neck of the warrior priest's attacker before he wrenched it free and spun, driving the blade through the chest of another skaven that had been attempting to sneak up behind him.

He pulled the priest from the filth and waded to get out of the water. Once on solid ground he spun his sword in a deadly arc. The flashing blade severed the heads of another 2 skaven who charged him. Without pausing he flicked his throwing knife out from under his cloak and threw it. The tip slammed into the leg of one of the skaven, giving the warrior priest the chance to end its misery with a hammer blow to the face. But then Emerthil was fending for his own life again as more skaven emerged from the water. The tide seemed endless...


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## snarsnik and gobbla (Oct 4, 2011)

As Luthor sat against the wall he thought of the circumstances that had brought him there, his memory was crisp and day was still in his mind. He thought about if he had not seen the sign, not been so short on money or so eager to find the dream catcher he would probably not be dying. He had long given up on escape, he was trapped and going to die and had accepted this fact fully. It gave him peace, a certainty in his life that was the only thing keeping him sane. He thought that if he was trying to escape he would fail and lose grip on reality. Sadly Luthor was no longer sure if he was insane and actually thing to escape keeps you sane, Luhtor had days to think about this but his finding seemed to state that everything could be insane. He tried not to think about this, but in a cage where he could only just see his fingers, it was hard. 

His magic had long ago been extinguished by a rune in the cell and Luthor felt empty without it he did not even have enough magic to keep his candle alight. He now began to think back to the day he came to the city. He no longer remembered history he would relive it, he had been back to that day hundreds of times. He began to cast his mind back and started to speak the words that his master taught him. The rune outside began to light up and suddenly Luthor felt his mind feeling weak, the rune was trying to stop Luthor relive that memory. Luthor knew what to do he began to call the winds of magic and as he did he felt his mind strengthening. The rune could only stop one spell at a time and it had chosen the spell he could use to escape. This was exactly what Luthor had expected it to do. Closing his eyes he went back to relive that day. 
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The wind was bracing and Luthor could not hold back a shiver as he walked along the muddy street. To Luthor this was very comforting, it was just like home. It was different to home as he stuck out like a sore thumb. Street urchins stared at him not sure if they should flee. He could tell that this town was on edge by the way the houses where dressed. Strange runes where carved on most of the towns doors, all of which seemed to hold no magical properties as far as Luthor was concerned. Someone must have made a killing he thought as he stared at the more outlandish “protection” and he decided to help protect them. On the door he began to carve the symbol of light magic. Suddenly a gruff man came out his house and shouted “What th’y hell d’ya think you’re doing,”

“Just trying to aid, you against the beasts that plague your town. You appear to have been tricked by the man that made those runes,” replied Luthor politely

“no one does som’thn lik this for free, get out”

Luthor did not need to be told twice he quickly strode away. He doubted that anyone would take kindly to him trying to help and began to walk towards the inn. After a few minutes he found it, it was not hard to find it was the only house that was not clouded in an aura of silence. As he entered the inn he was hit by a wall of sound and sweat, it seemed that the entire town had decided to drink out their problems. He did not want to be in the inn so he quickly strode through it, searching for the captain. 

Suddenly the world shuddered and the inn started to fade. Luthor was back in his cell but he was not in his cell but outside it. He could not keep his eyes open for much longer than to take in the view, a witch hunter started at him with a pink blob, who smelled even worse than Luthor, next to him. "I believe introductions are in order?" The Witch hunter spoke and Luthor felt relieved. He tried to speak but could not, trying again he managed a hoarse whisper "Names Luthor, could you destroy that rune,"


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

*Zacharias*

The wizard he had pulled out of the cell was bedraggled and weak, once fine fabrics clothed his form, now ripped and crusted with the contents of the sewers. He seemed altogether somewhere else as he was pulled from the cell, then seemed to, almost, wake up. His lips moved soundlessly, he looked vaguely confused, and tried again, a hoarse whisper emerging."Name's Luthor, could you destroy that rune?" Zacharias grunted with amusement, "I am Zacharias, a Witch Hunter, and I am no fool, I know a spellbreaker when I see it." He nodded towards the rune on the wall, "who put you in there and carved that, and more importantly, why?"


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

As the group prepared to move, Bernard began to feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and the feeling of being watched crept its way into his mind. Gripping his broadsword and shield tighter, he moved forward into the dimly lit tunnel."prepare for battle everyone, theres something up ahead and it isnt friendly" he heard the warrior priest say, before he moved past them and began chanting, his glowing form lighting the hallway. As the Priest stepped onto what looked like a stone bridge, the glow from his weapons fully illuminated the room, and Bernard saw what looked like shadows swimming in the waste of the sewer.

As he was about to shout a warning, a hairy hand reached up out of the river and pulled the glowing priest into its depths. Before Bernard could come to the aid of the priest, he was confronted by the sight of what appeared to be a giant filth covered rat clutching a pair of nasty looking blades. Hearing the noblewoman scream, Bernard let loose a battle cry and charged the creature head on, slamming his shield into its pointed face. As the it staggered back from the blow, Bernard slashed his heavy broadsword across its neck, hacking through and removing its shrieking head from its body.

Turning away from the corpse of the rat man, Bernard saw another of the beasts emerging from the river. Charging forward, he tackled the beast to the ground, grunting in pain as the beast slammed its blade down into his side. Armor holding, Bernard wrestled around with the monster, beating his shield against it again and again, before the creature slumped into unconsciousness. Standing and holding his broadsword in a reversed grip, he brought the blade down into the chest of the large rat like thing.

Stabbing it several times to ensure it was indeed dead, Bernard looked up to see how the others were faring, and raising his sword, he charged with them into battle.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

Veran could tell that the rest of the group, save maybe the Noble woman, could feel what he felt now. An uneasy tremor ran through his body, and he opened his senses even further, a stench, one that he had smelled before, but it lingered in the back of his memory. Familiar yet different. The fact that he couldn't placed it made him even more on edge and he fully drew one of his sickle shaped golden swords. Lips peeling back from his teeth in a throaty growl. 

"If that is true we should make haste. So at least others sense the same thing. There are eyes in the shadows that belong to who knows what," one of the elves said, and Veran responded with a grunt and turned up the tunnel. 

"prepare for battle everyone, theres something up ahead and it isnt friendly," Heinrich said, and he took Veran's pause to push slightly ahead of the wizard. Veran felt the quite stir of power that he had come to associate with the holy warriors of Sigmar, and he heard the priest praying to his god in loud confident words. Assurance that his god would answer apparent in his body language and tone. It was subtle at first but Veran's sharp eyes noticed it first as the priest's weapons began to glow that began as a quiet pulse but grew to a vibrant light as he stepped into the chamber that lay beyond the exit of the tunnel. Veran watched, his feeling of unease growing to a screaming warning in his mind as he watched Heinrich step onto a bridge that lead over a river of raw human waste. 

He saw Bernard tense and looking to the river he saw what the Knight saw, forms, swimming in the filth. Before Veran could cry out to the priest, he watched as a clawed, furred hand explode out of the effluvium, grasp the priest by the ankle, and with inhuman strength pull him into the flow of waste below the bridge. 

It was as if this act was some sort of signal, because as Heinrich disappeared below the surface, more filty, slime encrusted furred creatures began to emerge, clawing their way onto the ground that surrounded the river. Waste smeared their fur and encrusted the weapons they bore. The stood close to 12 feet tall and their hunched forms bore the features of a giant rat. Hilde screamed and Bernard and the Swordsmaster surged forward, bringing the weapons of their trades to bear. With a bellow Veran did the same.

He felt the Wind of Ghur stir around him and he felt the feral, wild, power of the earth flow into him. The piece of Amber at the tip of his staff began to glow with a green light, bathing the cavern around him in the flickering power of Ghur, replacing the constant amber glow as the charm on his necklace winked out. He could feel the power rushing into him, changing his form, making him stronger, faster, more savage. His body began to grow in hidth and breadth as his muscles rippled and bulged. Coarse hair began to sprout all over his body and his face grew more feral, canines growing, eyes turning to a golden amber with catlike pupils. Slamming his blackwood staff into the ground with enough force to pierce the stone, leaving the light of the staff flickering around the cavern. 

With a speed that he had not been capable of seconds before, he drew his other sword just as one of the creatures reached him. With a snarl he met it, now its equal in size, speed, and ferocity. Batting aside its striking hand with a contemptous flick, he swung his other hand downward, the razor sharp curved blade of his sickle taking its hand at the wrist. With a feral roar he shouldered into the beast with all his strength, and he heard its sternum crack and its neck break as the force of his blow rocked the things frame. He slid aside as the beast crumpled to the ground, blood causing its death rattle to gurlge slightly, and he was met with another of the putrid creatures. 

Blocking a vicious strike from the beasts filth encruted blade, Veran whipped his other blade around as he sensed something striking at his face. His strike met with resistance and the creature screamed. Inhuman lungs carrying the cry around the cavern to mix with the other sounds of battle. Pushing back from the beast he saw the end of its tail twitching on the ground an odd blade clutched in its grasp, blood spraying in a fine mist as the creature drew the wounded appendage back. With its attention on its injury Veran spun, blades crossed and in a scissoring motion took the ratman's head from its shoulders, thick arterial blood flying into the air from its severed neck. 

Spinning to face the river once more, veran saw his companions still fighting, and more beasts continuing to emerge from the river at the chamber's center. With a roar of rage, Veran, servant of the wilds and bearer of the power of Ghur flung himself into the fray. Gold flashing in the green tinged light of his stave as his swords flashed, bringing death to the deformed creatures that threatened to overbear them.


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## Black Steel Feathers (Aug 17, 2011)

Hilde automatically looked around when something roared, her eyes widening into perfect circles when she spotted... Well, it looked like the Amber Wizard, but if it was he had grown into a beast that rivalled the ratmen they were facing; there was fur on his body, fangs in his jaws, and his eyes reminded Hilde of a wildcat her father had once killed and had stuffed. The sight was so arresting that she almost forgot where she was and ran the risk of having her head cut off by the next rat-beast to challenge her.

The noblewoman span on her heel to face the creature, frowning deeply as she noting just how heavy and tired her arms were feeling; even if the blessing of the Plaguefather dulled her pain to nothing, she could still feel her exhaustion. Hilde wasn't used to fighting this long with this many enemies, and this creature was harder to kill than all the rest had been. _Maybe I should use my scroll... No! The others will see._ she thought, trying to console herself with the thought that they weren't likely to loose. The knight was like a living fortress in his armour, the Amber Wizard was literally ripping rat-things to shreds, and the elves were proving useful by killing off the creatures as soon as they saw them.

Still, it didn't stop her arms from feeling like they were full of lead. 

Gritting her teeth, Hilde finished off the rat-creature and decided to move closer to an ally. She was splattered with even more flith and blood than she had been before, her blood and the rat-beasts blood staining her once fine velvets. "This isn't going to wash out..." she muttered, dodging a rat-beast's attack and giving it a faceful of her grey powder for it's troubles; it ran off screaming as it's eyes started to froth, leaving Hilde to continue on her way. "Nothing lasts, I suppose."


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## Anilar (Aug 12, 2011)

Arnbjörn was uncertain for how long he had been locked up, in this miserable hole of a cellar, in the sewer of some miserable run down imperial town.
But he had banged on the door every day since his capture, the troubles most likely not solved, so the proud empire was bound to send in other adventures to clean up the mess. And Arnbjörn had some grudges he needed taken care of in this disgusting sewer.

As so often before when Arnbjörn was hammering the rock he had picked up into the door, he was looking back over the events that resulted in his current predicament.
_________________________________________________________
Arnbjörn had seen the poster on a tree along the road he was travelling along. Reward it said. Gold for monsters, and Arnbjörn needed money. His latests experiments had used up most of his gold, and had him evicted from the 7th village after the smithy he had worked in had blown up.
It was easy for any dwarf to become some village smith, but it took time to come to coin as a village smith, so this reward seemed promising for Arnbjörn. It would do him some good to get down into dark cramped tunnels, it had been some time since he had been underground in a dwarf hold. And the superstitious humans saw monsters everywhere, it was probably just some giant rats and spiders killing a few sewer workers.
Arnbjörn had travelled to the town, which was not the pride of the empire. Houses looking like they were falling apart as he walked by them, and various trinkets and plants that Arnbjörn was sure was meant to protect the townpeople.
The Captain that Arnbjörn met at the inn was well dressed and looked the part, but he did not fool a battle experienced dwarf. Arnbjörn was sure the captain was a coward that had not seen any real battle, and if he had it had been from a safe distance. Which was why he was hiring adventures to travel into the murky depths of the local sewer, so he was not to meet the monsters and the sewage himself. But Arnbjörn did not care, if it meant gold for his almost empty purse.

Arnbjörn together with some former soldiers of the empire, a couple of rogues , a dwarf slayer, a duelist from far away estalia and some wizard in fancy white ropes had been led into the sewers by a so called soldier of the sewer guard, which was just a fancy word for some wretch that had not been seen fit to be in the prober imperial army.
They had soon come across the monsters, which had taken them all by surprise. Disgusting rat creatures had assailed them, and even thou they had been easy to fend of to begin with, they attacked often in greater and greater numbers as they had been fighting there way through the sewers. Every now and then wounding or killing one from the party.
But at one fight Arnbjörn had not seen his enemies, they had been silent they had attacked in darkness, and to Arnbjörns shame they had overwhelmed him and dragged him off to this cell. What the purpose of his capture had been, he did not know for he had not seen anyone since his capture.
______________________________________
Suddenly while Arnbjörn was banging on the door, he stumbled out as the door was opened from the outside, stumbled right into the point of a quarrel. Arnbjörn looked up and saw a human who seemed just as surprised by the dwarf as he was of the human. Following the human instructions of moving closer to the hulking ogre, Arnbjörn realised they were not his captors while they released the wizard.
Arnbjörn taking stock of the situation as the human was questioning the wizard, interupting the wizard before he could answer the liberator of who and why.
_
"Im sorry human but im no gentleman. I do thank you for freeing us from our unfortunate capture. The wizard and I Arnbjörn was from a earlier expedition into these sewers, where we have been fighting numerous rat like creatures. But we were at one point overwhelmed by something much darker and much more silent and thrown into these rooms. I have no idea why we have not been killed or who did it. I do hope you have brought more than yourself, the ogre and what I suspect to be your guide, otherwise you can just as well give up now. And if you will be so civil as to point your crossbow at someone else, I do not wish to add another grudge to a allready too long list of grudges from this disgusting hole of what you humans call a sewer."_


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## BlackApostleVilhelm (May 14, 2008)

_Warpstone_. He could feel it, the magical properties that surrounded the crystal-like rock absolutely permeated every corner of the sewers the further and further they went, it seemed that death was smiling on him tonight. They soon reached a fork in the sewer passageways, he wanted to keep an eye on those in the group who were an immediate threat to him so he followed the warrior-priest and the majority of the group, after all you had to keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

As the group continued on he slowed his pace so that he was nearer to the back but still surrounded by people in the group, he would put them between whatever attacked them and himself, he was in no shape to be fighting anything or anyone up close and personal. 

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the low voice of the warrior-priest, they had been watched this whole time, and sure enough as the priest made his way over a bridge Lucius saw the life signs of their stalkers. He couldn't really make out what they were with his real vision, that was still somewhat hazy, but his mind could see the life pumping through their veins. As the priest was dragged into the water the group moved into action, Lucius not wasting a second in throwing his first spell at an enemy, the small comet of pure death energy impacting on an enemy's skull and exploding it as the rest of the body fell to the ground completely lifeless.

He spun around as he sensed something moving quickly behind him and threw another Death Bolt, the attacker squealing as its body shriveled into a lifeless husk, its filthy blade falling to the floor and skidding away. Lucius stared down at the beast's body, it looked like it could have been a form of beastman but he had never seen this type of beastman before, let alone heard of them, they were strange little rat man. He was forced to smile at the creature's cunning, they had managed to stay hidden from the group up until now, and not only stay hidden but plan an ambush at a specific point, these things had more intelligence then it seemed.

He turned back to the fight at hand, these things were pouring out of the sewege in endless numbers, he knew just the spell that would help this situation. Without warning he started his Ice Storm spell, he would be vulnerable to attack yet he knew once the others realized what he was doing one of them would come to protect him. 

His staff was touching the ground, both of his hands gripping its shaft as the air around him began to get colder and colder, his eyes glowing with an icey blue light as tiny icicles began to form into a layer of ice around his feet. He was aiming the spell at the area just in front of the river of waste,* "Now would be a good time to move before I finish the spell."* his voice carried to his allies that were still fighting the rat man by the river, he had no wish for them to get caught up in the spell if they did not need to.


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## High_Seraph (Aug 28, 2009)

Loehangren listened intently when the Swordmaster had said that the Seers had sent him here. *What ccould they have been thinking?* Loehangren thinks to himself as the priest had told everyone to get ready for battle. Reaching behind him Loehangren brings forth five arrows holding four in his left hand and nocking the fith Loehangren blinks rapidly at the light coming of the Priest on the bridge. When tsomething had grabbed him and took him under the water Loehangren heard the "Noble" lady let loose a piercing scream. Unduanted Loehangren took carefull aim at the first thing to come towards him. Noting the filthy weapon and clumps of ragged clothing about it's giant rat like frame he releases the first arrow into it's leg before finishing it off with a second arrow to te head.

The knight had charged off after the drowning priest and the one wizard had changed his hsape to somehting resembling the rat things they fought. Looking around Loehangren sees the Hilde barely holding off an attacker and the Swordsmaster taking the things down quickly and calmly. The other wizarda began casting a strong spell and warned everyone to get out of the water. He didn't seem to see the one rat coming behind him so loehangren loosed three arrows in quick succesion all hitting the things chest knocking it back. Running up and unsheathing his sword he quickly finished it before turning and giving the small and cramped battlefield a look over.


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## Jackinator (Nov 18, 2008)

*Zacharias*

Zacharias nodded respectfully to the Dwarf, knowing that they were trustworthy creatures and raising the crossbow. The wizard was still staring off into some reality known only to him, but he had the aura of an Imperial Wizard. He replaced the crossbow on his belt and drew his sword, walking over to where the spellbreaker rune glowed faintly. He paused however, "I do not wish to make enemies of you either Arnbjörn, but I am a suspscious man. I must ask for your oath..."

(OOC: sorry there's not much of it, I'm having a bit of writers block for this RP  )


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## snarsnik and gobbla (Oct 4, 2011)

Luthor was having trouble to speak, he was now even closer to the rune and his legs where beginning to fail him. They barely could hold the frail form of Luthor. He realised now how little independence he had unlike the dwarfs or even the soldiers of his old party, they would still be decently strong they would not be reduced to barely standing by one Rune. Yet they where all dead Luthor could not help find that Ironic. He looked at the Rune and was fascinated it must be dwarven, how would the Ratmen which he believed to be Skaven, it must have been made by a high Rune-Smith, it was far to intricate for anyone else to do it. He wanted it it was just so fascinating.

His thought process was interrupted by a small stout figure stumble out of his cell, he almost fell but luckily he did not for a dwarf who falls has lost his honour. The Dwarf seemed not to have felt the prison and as soon as he came out began a speech which Luthor cared little about, it was something about a crossbow and they should leave. Luthor knew he should agree with the second one but he felt strangely pulled towards the Sewers like a moth to a flame. Luthor now just wanted to sit down and having no huge Honour like the Dwarf sat down in front of them all. For the first time he noticed that the blob nest to the witch Hunter was an Ogre, he wondered if it would speak but doubted it Ogre's where never good at speaking. He saw then the Witch Hunter move towards the Rune, to destroy it. Luthor now that he was sitting could manage to speak "Rune Disable no Destroy," and with he sat back an closed his eyes waiting


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## Anilar (Aug 12, 2011)

_"You can have my oath manling, im here to kill the miserable creatures of this sewer and I haven't seen any humans down here trying to kill me. I swear by my ancestors that as long your not trying to kill or hurt me, I will not kill you. Now all we need is to find mine and our wizard friends equipment, even thou ill will fight these monsters with tooth and nail if I have to, I would prefer to do it with weapons and in my armour."_

With these words Arnbjörn awaited that the witchhunter would destroy the rune that somehow affected the wizard of his old party.


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