# Franco's Tale



## Jabby (Jul 17, 2008)

This is a little story that I decided to write to enter in Warhammer Online's Fluff contest, however upon reading the fine print I saw that upon entry writers lost all IP rights to the story or any further composition involving the characters. Maybe I'm just paranoid, but I was deterred. I posted this series on my blog, but my readers aren't that into Warhammer I think. :threaten:

--------------------------Franco's Tale Part 1 ---------------------------------

The rain fell thick as he walked into camp. The sky darkened earlier and earlier as weeks passed since the harvest, soon it would be icy and still, but now sheets of rain assaulted Franco’s leather wide-brim hat and tried fervently to penetrate his slicked long coat. Trinkets of the craft jangled from his belt: stakes, pouches of shot, a pewter handled wheel-lock pistol, and Franco’s signature rapier. Billowing through the wind, a long cloak enhanced his frame as if he flew through the dusk, while his step was accompanied by a short spark of his metal-heeled boots upon the cobbled stone with each stride of his ample gait. 
Lightning split the skies above the empire coastal village of Neues Emskrank giving faint glimpses of community gatherings. Small fires burned throughout the camp as uniformed men gathered for warmth and villagers hid within their homes. A small military camp was built just outside of the village defending the continual onslaught and incursions of northern barbarians. The village proper continually burned through the pouring rain as men charged to defend their homelands; longboats drifted lazily offshore waiting their chance for arrival to the melee, their chance to deliver their cargo of the tainted horde seeking to devour the Empire.
But Franco wasn’t here for that, he was on his lord’s business.


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## zboy234 (Dec 29, 2007)

sounds good looking forward to more...also having to sacrifice a storyline for a comp is stupid.....i think we're the same:grin:

Cheers,

Zboy234


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## Jabby (Jul 17, 2008)

---------Franco's Tale: Part 2---------
The camp’s guards had downcast their eyes as Franco passed; he moved quickly across the open space of the camp and called for the governing captain. An irritated, seemingly insulted man braced against the winds and exited a cabin and strode toward Franco. Introducing himself as Manfred Dietrich, Griffin Company’s messenger, he inquired as to Franco’s presence. Though Franco was annoyed by this protocol, he produced the summons that he was given months earlier: a bound parchment pulled from within his greatcoat was handed to the proud messenger. Manfred’s face was gnarled and greasy, and a grimace radiated from it; his prematurely grey hair fell in rather odd places covering a bald crown. Abruptly his demeanor changed. Where there was once open hostility was now prostration and a sense of self preservation. “M’lord, welcome to our humble camp. We have been waiting for your arrival for some time,” he groveled. “Right this way.” Franco returned the summons back into his long coat and followed the much changed messenger.

Black mud lined the row of cabins and culminated in a dark bog deep in the road. Thick suction sounds followed the pair through the camp, the mud threatening to overwhelm Manfred every dozen paces. Franco chose his steps wisely and never seemed to even touch the bog, rather float gracefully over it. Manfred muttered to himself every few steps, his eyes continually downcast to protect them from the driving elements and carefully watch his path. Through the assault of rain, Franco heard bits and pieces of his task in this forsaken stretch of land. He was a long way from his home, back in the sun-drenched Tilea: rolling hills of luscious green spread throughout its provinces, and the magnificent ruins of Miragliano lain only miles from his old home in Ebino. Neues Emskrank was entirely foreign to his beautiful Tilea, but here was Franco’s calling, his lord’s message to be delivered.


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## vacantghost (Feb 16, 2008)

-thumbs up- awesome work!


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