22nd Ulriczeit 2511 (midday): Living in a Bubble; House of Horrors; What’s Going On?; Diplomatic Gunnar

Things weren’t looking good. The Deft Dancer had just skipped back to the lock entry, zombies were beginning to appear from every where (including up the side of the boat), and Felix, Yasmina and Gele were looking none the better for this strange turn of events. Henrietta called them towards the safety of the stone-build lock keeper’s house, but when they went to move Ferdinand was stuck in place. The magic that prevented the undead from coming close also prevented him from pushing past them. Gunnar, who by this stage was also carrying the catatonic Yasmina, and Salundra began to shove Ferdinand. They combined strength was enough to shove a zombie aside and get the bubble moving. More abominations were appearing all of the time, and they hastened towards the lock house.

Upon entering the house, they barred the door, but quickly things went awry. Gele and Felix started gibbering about blood on the walls and soon strange, dangerous voices could be heard. As they explored the house the sights and sounds became more ominous: foul waters dripping from nowhere, food that was fresh now foul and spoiled, a ceiling depicting the view of boats from below… When Salundra checked the garden to secure it, a flock of strange birds attacked, but she batted them away and retreated inside. Gele was not handling the situation well. The voices were getting to her. She yelled, “Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!”, but to no avail. Yasmina had devolved from catatonic to hysteric. She began screaming and Ferdinand calmed her with a magical touch, putting her into a slumber. Salundra explored the house, while a dark and foreboding voice spoke to them. None could understand its words.

Time passed and their situation did not improve. The zombie numbers had increased to a point where escape seemed fool hard, certainly with the boats crew and potentially Henrietta in tow. The halfling was surprisingly calm, despite windows being broken and scratching at the doors. This perplexed Salundra and she questioned the lock keeper, but Henrietta put her calmness down to being old and having seen many things… though nothing quite like this. She did mention a strange rider who came through that day, a man on beautiful black horse, wearing a dark hooded cloak. Strange as most folks stop for a few minutes to say hello, but this rider galloped through without a sideways glance.

The sound of a scuffle came from the door to the garden. Gunnar investigated, witnessing the end of a fight between two warriors clad in ancient clothing, one smashing in the face of the other with the house’s brickwork. He yelled something in that same language… and then the birds attacked, swooping in and managing to cut Gunnar’s shoulder slightly. He moved back inside, spotting that the ancient warriors had disappeared.

The voice returned, but this time it was understood by Gunnar. “Drowners of the dead!” and “The earth will consume!” were the threatening refrains. Gunnar spoke respectfully to the disembodied voice… it complained of water disturbing its slumber. The result of the canal building two years ago? Henrietta recalled talk of some graves having been disturbed when the lock was built. Yasmina began to splutter in her sleep, choking somehow. Ferdinand was first to react and cleared wet soil from her mouth, and managed to wake her. She was still in considerable shock.

They looked around the house some more, seeing battle being reflected in the shining surfaces of cooking utensils and pots in the kitchen. Snippets of a saga could be heard in low voices throughout the house. Had Gunnar been able to piece it all together, this is what he’d have heard:

The Saga of Kurgorn Three-Eyes

In ages long past, ‘neath Unberogen’s sky,
A king of great might, Kurgorn, did lie,
Three eyes like stars, his destiny sealed,
In his fierce heart, both conquest and weal.

His rule was a tempest, both fierce and grand,
Through lands and through time, his warriors did stand,
But ‘gainst him did rise a hero of yore,
Sigmar Heldenhammer, with ideals to soar.

Their clash was foretold, a storm on the rise,
Two titans, fierce rivals, ‘neath crimson skies,
Thunderclap echoed, their destiny’s call,
Two champions locked in a cataclysmic brawl.

Kurgorn, the mightiest, with blade and with might,
In battle’s cruel dance, he reveled in the fight,
Yet midst the fray, ‘cross swords and the fray,
A flicker of understanding, ‘gainst the dark of the day.

A moment profound, their eyes locked, they saw,
A vision of unity, justice, no flaw,
In that instant, fierce foes turned to kin,
Their rivalry’s end, a new chapter to begin.

United they stood, their armies combined,
A force like no other, ‘gainst chaos entwined,
The Unberogen king and Sigmar’s great might,
Together they shattered the long, bitter fight.

Kurgorn’s wisdom, ‘longside Sigmar’s grand dream,
United the tribes, like a flowing stream,
Three eyes once feared for the visions they’d gleaned,
Guided the realm, a new era was deemed.

Their saga, a ballad, through ages did soar,
A tale of redemption, of peace to the fore,
Kurgorn Three-Eyes, a hero so bold,
In the Empire’s story, his legacy told.

They checked a cell beside the entrance. It was night outside, but the zombies could still be heard. Through the small barred window in the cell door could be seen a hanging Unberogen warrior, his neck stretched by a noose. Salundra opened the door, but he disappeared… well, disappeared for her. Gunnar and Ferdinand saw the hanged swipe for her, but nothing happened. She found Henrietta’s gardening tools and some potted mushrooms. Kurgorn spoke again, imploring them to dig. They lifted the flagstones and used the tools to dig, eventually uncovering a large stone slab. Salundra tried to lift it, but it was too heavy. Gunnar tried too, eventually raising it, exposing a small stairway below.

Casting Light, Ferdinand gave himself and Salundra the means to see. Gunnar’s natural night vision meant he didn’t require further light. Below they found an eerily lit tomb, the skeletal remains of an Unberogen king sitting on a throne, a simple iron crown with a green gemstone inset with obsidian forming the image of an eye. The king spoke of a slumber disturbed by water and indeed a steady flow of foetid water had disturbed some treasure at the back of the tomb. Gunnar reasoned that the slab might stem the water and proceeded to get it. It was very heavy and awkward to cary, but the Dwarf was determined to do what he could to bring peace to the king. Gunnar knew that his own path would end in death and felt honour bound to do what he could for this 2500 year old warrior. He hefted the slab into place, and the flow of water seemed to slow. It was more symbolic gesture than feat of engineering, but it seemed to satisfy the disturbed king. He let out a restful sigh and his head slumped to his chest. “May your spirits rest well in your halls”, Gunnar said.

When they returned upstairs, it was daylight, but they hadn’t been below long enough for night to ave passed. All ethereal manifestations were gone, though the damage caused by the zombies was still visible. They were keen to get underway, their bigger mission calling to them. They advised Henrietta to get some engineers to see to the water damage, they gathered up the Deft Dancer’s crew, who were slowly coming around.

They got the boat going, clearing the lock for a second time, the light winds pushing them once again towards Flussberg.

… and we’ll leave it there!

Until next time,

Owen