Mondstille (Late Afternoon): A proposal; an ambush; a dwarf steering a boat; slaughter; pyres
The mists on the Reik devoured the last of the day’s light. Gele hustled to set storm lanterns at stern and bow as they were drawn into the flow of that great river. Small lights could be seen through the murk, some more distant than others. Other river boats were making their way too and from the great city. Gele’s attention was fixed on navigating the misty river. She asked for silence so that she might hear other boats. Bells tolled from some, but it wasn’t a practice adopted by all.
A scream, a girl’s scream, pierced the gloom and stillness. It had come from aboard the Deft Dancer. Salundra, Ferdinand, and Gunnar moved quickly around the deck, seeking its source. They found Felix on bended knee and Yasmina with her hands over her mouth. “Yes, yes… oh yes!” she exclaimed as he stood, placing a simple ring on her finger. “We can make our life together in Altdorf”, he said with a wide smile. The characters congratulated the couple. Gele would need a new crew for the return journey to Ubersreik.
Something thudded into the port side of the barge, drawing all attention from the newly engaged couple. Lights could be seen coming through the sky from the western bank. Arrows… flaming arrows! Most fell short, but some struck the barge. “Attack! Port side”, yelled Gele. Some shapes could be seen moving through the mists on the bank. A contained fire on the ground seemed to be moving with them.
Salundra loosed a long-range bolt from her hand crossbow. A groan from the bank indicated she had struck something. More arrows flew back at them, one striking the side of the boat below the poop deck. Franz ran to try and pull it out. Fire and boats are a bad combination. He leant as far as he could over the gunwales. He seized it, but burnt his hand in the process. Ferdinand went to help.
“I’m going to take us away from the western bank”, Gele shouted, veering the boat towards the east. The tumult aboard had masked the sound of a low tolling bell… the Deft Dancer struck something mid-river as it cut across the flow. Curses sounded from the other boat as Gele called to Felix to check below. He emerged a moment later shouting, “Water! Water! We’re taking on water”. Gele swore and asked Gunnar to take the wheel. She ran, along with Salundra and Ferdinand, below decks. It was gloomy, but Ferdinand infused some magical illumination. Gele and Felix grabbed what cloth they could and began to wad it into the hissing water leak. Salundra and Ferdinand helped too, pushing the cloth into cracks where the oaken hull planks had been pushed inwards slightly.
Arrows fizzled as they struck the water. Watching the lights move on the western bank, Gunnar’s anger rose. How dare they attack them! He released the wheel a big, turning the nose of the boat back into the flow and then towards the western bank. He had no expertise or experience with boats, but he focussed and brought it through the mists towards the cowards on the bank. This change was not noticed below decks as they strove to bring the leak under control. The first they were aware of the change was when the barge slid to a stop in the mud at the side of the Reik. “What now?”, Gele asked as she nodded to Salundra and Ferdinand to go check. The leak was under control.
As soon as the boat halted Gunnar was moving. He ran towards the gunwale, drawing his axe smoothly and vaulting the edge of the boat, almost directly in line with a bow-wielding assailant who was a few yards beyond the boat. The attacker didn’t see Gunnar until the last moment. It was too late. The Slayer’s axe drove deeply into the man. Blood spurted everywhere and he collapsed instantly. Gunnar landed and withdrew his axe from the body. “Next!”, he growled looking at two others nearby.
Salundra and Ferdinand emerged from below decks. Their surprise was short-lived… they should have suspected Gunnar might not hold the safer course! Ferdinand brought illumination with him and sent a magical dart sailing towards one of the attackers. Salundra drew her hand crossbow and loosed a bolt. It struck a large, white-bearded man who wore a wolf pelt. He snarled and brandished a large sword.
Salundra, following Gunnar’s lead, ran and leapt from the boat. Father Marcus announced he would protect the children as Rolf, one of the Sigmarite brothers attempted to copy Salundra’s agile leap, but a clumsy misstep sent him tumbling into the gunwale headfirst. He crumpled in an unconscious heap. Ferdinand moved to the edge of the boat, narrowly dodging the sharp end of an arrow. He swung with the scythe, clipping the firer, one of the two who had been near Gunnar. The Slayer ran at the other, dodging a clumsy swing with a bow and hitting the man solidly with the cutting edge of his axe.
Salundra stood toe-to-toe with the bearded man, his manner of dress and a wolf head pendant clearly marking him as an Ulrican. He hissed words about a heresy, Sigmar’s disgrace and the ascendancy of Ulric. Salundra payed little heed. She preferred her sword to do the talking. The Ulrican took big, dramatic swings. Had they contacted they could have wrought terrible damage. Salundra was skilled enough for that not to happen. She skewered him on her sword and finished him with her stiletto blade. Ferdinand took out the archer and Brother Martin, ignoring his stricken comrade, had jumped from the boat to finish the final attacker.
They took stock. There were five dead Ulricans. For whatever reason they had determined to set the Deft Dancer ablaze. Father Marcus stepped from the boat. He recognised the main assailant. “Ah, Heurtgar… I didn’t think he’d resort to this. Things are spiralling out of control. We must send them to Ulric as they would have wished… with fire”, he proclaimed. Salundra vehemently disagreed. To linger would put them in danger; to set pyres burning would signal to any who meant them ill where they were. No amount of convincing would sway Father Marcus. He advised they leave, he and the Brothers, for Rolf was groggily regaining consciousness, would see to the dead.
Gele was content that the leak was not too bad. They set out into the murky river again. Leaving the religious men to their preparations. Gele set a gradual course to the eastern bank, landing about two miles downstream. Ferdinand stowed two bows, some arrows and the hand portable brazier they’d gathered from amongst the fallen… they wouldn’t be needing them now. As they prepared food fires appeared on the far bank, pyres to return the dead to Ulric.
The rest of the night passed without incident.
1st of Vorhexen: Altdorf; fishy business; a prophecy; seeking adventure
They set off early the next morning, the boat moving even before Sol had crept above the horizon. Knowing how busy the docks can be, Gele wanted to make it to Altdorf as early as possible. Breakfast was served on deck and everyone ate the oat porridge as Gele described Altdorf, particularly the docklands to Janna, though everyone who hadn’t been to the city before was listening in. She described a great city built on the confluence of two rivers, the Reik and the Talabec. There were great walls through which the rivers flowed. The first area they’d pass was the East End, but Gele said it was best to avoid there; Hooks’ territory she described it at, but neither Janna nor anyone else thought to ask what that meant. She was directing them towards City North, an area she knew and done business in before, though she reckoned she hadn’t been there since before Janna was born.
They entered the city early in the day; it was still a while before noon. The river traffic, both flowing in and out of the city and crossing the rivers at different points, increased significantly. She guided the Dancer expertly, bringing them to the Dockland and to one of the few remaining spots on the Beloved of Manann Dock. Other nearby docks were practically empty, but this one seemed to attract many vessels. “The Bierbeli…”, Gele muttered with a grin as she checked out the nearby vessels. Two young dockers helped moor the boat. Gele threw a silver over her shoulder into the mighty, albeit quite murky, river. She tossed a silver to each of the dockers and they went to tend to other boats and barges.
Franz hopped off shouting something about finding a nice place to stay. A strange looking individual approached the boat. Her scalp was clean shaven and tattooed scales covered her head. Her nose had been clipped and the tops of her ears sliced off. Between that and her dandy attire she cut quite an image. “Breem!”, Gele announced as the other person boarded. They shook hands and exchanged some words. Gele pointed to the cargo and Breem nodded. A gold or two passed from Gele to Breem and the woman departed. Gele turned to Salundra, “Breem is with the Fish. She’s obviously gone up in rank since I saw her last. She’s also a bit more, eh, modified too. She’ll ensure no one will mess with the boat.”
Gunnar had heard a rumour that there was a street close to the Dockland named the Street of a Hundred Taverns. He very much wanted to visit it! Ferdinand decided he’d join him. The docks were teeming with every sort of denizen of the Old World, from elegantly dressed Elven merchants directing serfs to beggar children scurrying between legs. The street of legend was easy to find and it too was busy. The fight yesterday had whetted Gunnar’s appetite… a city of this size must surely have some big beasties that need slaying. Before getting a drink they might check to see if there were some posted notices that might hint at trouble.
Salundra stayed with the boat, conscious of the kind of unwanted attention a big city can attract. It wasn’t long before Breem led a merchant back to the barge. Gele conducted business quickly and they exchanged half dockets in the same manner Salundra had witnessed in Auerswald. The merchant and Breem left. Gele smiled, “that’ll mean a healthy profit. The stevedores will begin unloading within the hour.”
Meanwhile, on the Street of a Hundred Taverns, Gunnar and Ferdinand were approaching a pillar-mounted statue half way up the street that might have postings. Ferdinand noted it was a Grand Theogonist as they came closer. He wondered which one. Suddenly a crazed man was right in front of him, his wizened and pockmarked face pushing uncomfortably close to Ferdinand’s.
“I see Darkness Gathering as the Last House of Joy Falls – beware, for Shadows Over Bögenhafen stir! Then Beloved Morr, resplendent in Vestments of Green, stands astride Sigmar’s Great River. Yea, I see Death on the Reik and I despair!”
As he pontificated he became more and more agitated, arms prostrate and legs jerking as he intoned each word.
“For then the Stained Hand guides the Once Mighty Lord, and this Power Behind the Throne curses us all. Lo, the Horned Rat then claims the Broken King atop his Throne of Lies, and the White Walls Fall, leaving our Empire in Ruins! Tremble in fear, ye mighty, for the End Times have come.”
His followers dragged him away as Ferdinand wiped spittle from his puzzled face. His arm remained pointed at the wizard as they pulled him up the street. Gunnar barely broke stride while all of this mangling weirdness was going on. He skimmed through the notes at the pillar… one intriguing one catching his interest.
Back at the boat the stevedores arrived with a large man-handled cart. A portable crane was shunted into place and they began unloading. It took two runs with the large cart, presumably to a nearby warehouse, to get everything removed from the boat. The merchant returned promptly and the other half of the docket was exchanged along with a bag of gold! Gele looked pleased. While watching the transaction, Salundra noticed someone else looking on. Their attention clearly on the deal being completed. Salundra proceeded down the dock towards the quays, but the person she spotted was gone.
Gunnar tore a piece of paper down from where it had been nailed. It mentioned a missing woman, named Gerella, and an address. It looked quite fresh compared to some of the others. Ferdinand was resolved to visit The Two-Tailed Lion, an old haunt of his, but Gunnar was firm in his desire to pursue adventure. The address looked somewhat familiar to Ferdinand from his time apprenticed in the city. It should be nearby, so he reckoned there was no harm in a detour. The proceeded to the Reikplatz and the a little west from there. The navigated tight streets with slumy residences, but they kept getting turned around and lost. Altdorf was infamous for its inscrutable geography.
Just as they decided to return to the Street of a Hundred Taverns for a drink, a person familiar to Ferdinand emerged from a side alley. It was his master, Von Stahl. The old wizard looked upon Ferdinand for a moment, scrutinising his countenance. “We must talk”, he said before stepping back into the shade. He seemed to have disappeared.
They made their way to The Two-Tailed Lion where they had some good beer, including Bugman’s XXXXX (!). They asked about the address and the staff tried to help. If anything they made things more confusing. A pair of toffs entered while the duo were annoying a third drink. They looked like they were up to no good, but Gunnar and Ferdinand thought better than to rise to their bait.
They set off again, determined to find the address of the missing Gerella. They again became turned around and finally decided to knock on a random door to ask directions. Max, an elderly man, eventually answered. He was quite deaf and more than a little perplexed to have a Slayer at his door. However, following some yelling to a woman upstairs, presumably his elderly wife, he eventually told them they were near the address and point out where they should go. They had little faith in the directions, but they led to their destination. Gunnar glanced and Ferdinand and knocked on the door…
Until next time,
Owen