S3E10: Death on the Reik – In Pursuit of a Key

Recap: Agnes lined up her patients, “Gary, give me your flask of scotch to cleans these wounds. Those rats live in filth; so, no telling what diseases they carry.” She looked at Brandi, “Their yellow chisel-teeth sure did a number on you! Sit still as I stitch this catgut thread to close your open wounds.” Skaven. Who would believe they still exist? Just to mention them in a city could cause arrest and prosecution for heresy.

Mallorhan spoke, “Did you see the upside-down triangle symbol on their shields? Same as drawn on the map that led us here.” Rega spat, “From their plague wars eons ago when they overwhelmed dwarven cities from their secret tunnels inside the mountains. It represents the chaos moon Morrslieb they worship. Foul, malevolent race!”

But of most importance was Brunhilde’s mention of Dagmar Von Wittgenstein. His find and removal of the warpstone meteorite from the Devil’s Bowl some 120 years ago. Where could it be? And the key Brunhilde’s men stole from Dagmar. What is the purpose of the 6-pointed star vault beneath the signal tower Agnes’ Orphans helped repair?

Rega (Bill) dwarf Investigator

Brandiwyn (Tony) RiverWarden

Mallorhan (Brian) wood-elf Messenger

Gary (Matt) Warrior/Cavalryman

Sister Agnes (Duane) noble, Warrior Priestess of Shallya

Katja (Geoff) noble, Entertainer/Bounty Hunter

 Laying Brunhilde to rest: They considered waiting till morning to deal with Brunhilde’s corrupted men. But the thought of the skaven regrouping for another assault prompted them into action. Brandi set traps at the tunnel throats the skaven scrambled thru. As Katja/Gary/Mallorhan dug into the southern rubble wall, the others stood guard against rat attack. Almost an hour just to open a man-size hole. From which emerged a foul skeleton, “Kill me!” A desperate plea yet it swung its shattered fingertips (from trying to dig out while buried alive oh so many years ago) in corrupted threat. Agnes obliged its peaceful repose with her hammer. One after another they came and met their rest.

As the others gathered stone for proper burial cairns for Brunhilde and her men and the druid priest Corrobreth, Brandi and Rega covered their noses before entering the hole in the rubble wall. And returned with the 6^th iron key. As Agnes began a final prayer, Brunhilde’s ghost hovered over her cairn within a ring of druid stones, “Dagmar surely is dead by now but the evil he/we unearthed must be dealt with.”

Herded South: And that is when they heard the din of squeaking growing louder within the cave. “The skaven have gathered their numbers and advance. We must leave NOW!” It was a race back to their beached canoes. Skaven arrows impacted near them, prodding them onward. The elf and his long legs led the way while the dwarf brought up the rear. They gasped for breath fighting off exhaustion as they piled into the canoes and rode the current south. Bands of skaven, interspersed along the banks, rained arrows as Agnes’ Orphans paddled for their lives. Gary and Agnes in the lead canoe, followed by Rega and Brandi, then Mallorhan and Katja.

Four days of endless rowing day and night. Exhausting. Brandi barked at Rega, “Don’t just sit at the bow; do something to aid us.” Rega barked back, “You’re the riverman. You really want me moving and chance tipping us over?!” The best he could contribute was bailing out water. Meanwhile, skaven were finding their range for the last canoe. “Thunk!” An arrow pierced Katja’s skull cap, imbedding in her head. Agnes unable to tend her wound could only offer, “Break off the shaft so you at least don’t cause more damage.” And that’s when an arrow sunk into the elf’s leg. He too broke off the shaft then returned to rowing. Gary slowed his canoe to get close enough to pass over a poultice bag, “Sprinkle it over the wounds to prevent infection.”

By the fourth day, the canoes looked like they had sprouted feathers with all the arrows imbedded in the sides. But they also noticed the absence of inbound arrows. A shadow passed over the canoes: another pair of towering druid monoliths arched over the river Narn. Sanctuary. The sounds of nature: birds tweeting, bugs buzzing. And the growing sound of waterfalls. They neared the junction of the Narn and Stir rivers and quickly beached their canoes. [failed heal] Agnes rushed to Katja’s aid but could not extract the arrowhead. At least she dug out the one in Mallorhan’s leg.

Unterbaum: They limped and shuffled toward the Roaring Falls Inn. Exhausted, Katja fell asleep at the table. Which allowed Agnes to finally dig out the arrowhead. Greenish puss painted the table, but it was soon washed away with spilled ale. Two days to rest and recover. Rega returned to the village blacksmith to repair his allies’ broken armor. Gary founded the orphaned son of Corrobreth to relay news of his death, “It is up to you to continue your father’s druidic lifestyle and gather the rare spices.”

Kemperbad: At least Katja and Brandi had traded up in horses, claiming Etelka’s and Ernest’s. Thus, Rega rode the mule on the 6-day trek back to Kemperbad. Fortunate timing as the barges had returned from Altdorf where the hired crew sold the armament cargo. Brandi was pleased with the profit they had turned and busied himself lining up more cargo. Meanwhile, Gary found merchants interested in the spices he brought back, “Where did you get this?! Is there more? You can be our sole supplier!” Mallorhan? He failed in his attempt to plead forgiveness from local elven emissaries for his transgressions against the queen.

Just like Rega and Agnes who failed in their research about the dwarven constructed basalt foundation of the signal tower to the north. At least they found records about “There was a Gravelord mentioned centuries ago. Heinrich Kemmler north up in Middenland rumored to be a banished necromancer. Others claim he a lich.”

Last Chance: Agnes’ Orphans regrouped at the bar. The others questioned, “Could Kemmler be the root of all the evil flowing throughout the land?” But the question was left unanswered as a patron dumped a letter into Gary’s lap. After breaking the wax seal and opening the folded note, Gary looked quizzically at the strands of hair that fell onto the table. Then memory about his first arrival in Kemperbad and that tug on his hair by a stranger who ran away. He looked up to see a man at a distant table with palms raised and chanting. Momentary distraction by the faint sound of “plink”.

Gary was surprised to see a steady drip of liquid fall from his palm. “What the…” Gary suddenly rose in his chair and swung his hand as if to dislodge a bug. He splattered purple ink upon his seated allies and around the room. And stared in shock as his entire hand had turned purple and dripped purple fluid. Was he bleeding purple ink?! Bar patrons took note and began to scramble away. Brandi followed Gary’s eyes and rose to confront the conjurer sitting with 3 others, “Knock it off!” But the man only smiled, “Are you working with the Magister?” Now Gary stood before the man who calmly spoke, “I see you’re finally getting the message. This is your last chance.”

Back at the table, Agnes read the letter Gary had dropped. “From the Inner Circle, demanding the Magister Impedimentae deliver the 20,000-gold crown to Altdorf immediately. Or take it personally to Middenheim.” Agnes looked up in time to see both Gary and Brandi had drawn their pistols on the man. But the “twang” from her right told the sister Mallorhan acted first. The elf arrow [66 critical] danced from the man’s chest as a crimson pool quickly grew from the entry wound (sucking chest wound). The caster slumped dead, thumping his head on the table enroute to the floor. Any patrons still around, quickly exited the bar. Gary pulled out a glove to cover his purple hand.

And the 3 thugs beside the man? “We surrender. He didn’t pay enough for THIS fight.” Brandi allowed them to slowly back up before they turned and ran out. Katja rose from the table and flashed a poster at the barkeep, “Bounty Hunter. Claiming reward for this unlicensed wizard. Nothing to concern you.” Agnes looked at Katja’s poster and whispered, “You do realize that’s just a ‘help wanted’ notice pulled from the marketplace board?” Katja smiled, “Not really, but does it matter? He can’t read either.” On their way out, Gary flipped the barkeep a silver coin to “clean up this mess.” But the barkeep had other plans as patrons returned to stare at the dead man, “Come on in and witness a rogue wizard before the Witch Hunters arrive to haul him away.” Drinks began to flow along with gossip and false claims, “I knew he was a wizard from his colorful vest.”

Temple of Verena: Another day of research proved successful. “The tower was actually built over a century ago by Dagmar Von Wittgenstein as an observatory. I can’t find records that state whether the basalt foundation was already there.” Both Agnes and Rega dug further, “Dagmar was heir to the Castle Wittgenstein. Never married, no known offspring. An eccentric stargazer. Records show he led an expedition north into the Barren Hills, then upon his return sailed south and was never heard from again.” Rega found records for Wittgendorf, “Actually prospered till around 20 years ago. That’s when rumors began to circulate about its curse. Merchants removed it from any trade routes.” Agnes pondered, “If Dagmar was unmarried, without heirs, then is Lady Margritte of the castle his sister? That can’t be right; she’d be 100+ years old. A sister’s offspring?”

Temple of Sigmar: Rega had one more chore to perform: report to the Sigmarites. “We have evidence if needed, but the stories of the skaven being eliminated are false. We encountered hordes of them in and around the Barren Hills.” Father Bartholomew kicked his chair out from underneath and rose in contempt, “Only because you came with Father Marcus are you allowed to exit these halls. Blasphemy! I’ll not have you speaking such heresy! Begone and do not return unless you seek permanent residency in our dungeon.”

Cast Off: Brandi occasionally glanced at the stevedores loading the cargo as he argued with Rega, “What do you mean I should throw these skaven tails away?! I’m sure Witch-Hunters would pay good money for such evidence.” The dwarf told him of the Sigmarites’ reactions. Mallorhan leaned in, “You mean there was a chance for your internment instead of fouling our decks? Damn my luck.”

They slipped the moorings and caught the current north. They sailed past Castle Reikguard and reached the tower before sunset. Anchoring across the river, Brandi cursed as they lowered the dinghies, “I knew I shouldn’t have sold that skiff.” Multiple trips to get all ashore to then walk toward the tower where guards intercepted them. Gary spoke, “Well met. We helped the dwarves build this tower. In our rush to leave, I forgot a charm I left in the basement. If you wouldn’t mind letting me retrieve it.” [failed charm] The guards were not impressed by his calvary rank, “This isn’t a tourist attraction.” Brandi intervened as a RiverWarden flashing his badge, “Never mind him. I’m here to verify we are properly supplying you. Make sure this fool did proper work in the rebuild. I’m sure some areas are off limit. Yes, I’ll vouch for these. Even the elf.”

The guard led them up the ramp and waited impatiently as the dwarf pulled out a magnifying glass to inspect the stone seams of the foundation. A lot of “Huum” and “Oooh” led to boredom. Brandi offered, “You can return to duty. We’ll be done shortly.” Once he was out of sight, Brandi pulled out the gold key which opened the secret exterior door. They entered the basalt foundation and quickly worked their way to the central chamber that held the 6-pointed star base.

Each took an iron key. “On the count of 3.” All turned their keys simultaneous. Musty air wafted from the open cap. They descended the ladder-lined shaft and stood in an octagonal room. Each wall had a passage into separate rooms. Gary understood, “The 8 schools of magic. Keep an eye on the sister. I don’t want her burning more books.” As the others explored the adjoining rooms, Rega and Agnes ignored the bookshelf lined octagonal walls and focused on the center desk with open books. Three old tomes:

• True Omens+Prophecies of the Seer Unserfrau: “While the enemies of Chaos relax, the Great Mutator will awaken Morrslieb to spew shards upon the world. Whomever possesses those warpstone shall wield great power.”

• Guide of the Mysterious Phenomena of the Night Sky: “Sets the date at the year 2302. On the night of the ill-omened Hexenstag, under the grinning green countenance of Morrslieb, shooting stars fell upon the world. The writer traced the course of the largest star which fell at the head-waters of the River Narne. What we found to be Devil’s Bowl.”

• Dagmar’s journal: “Dagmar prides himself for finding the meteorite with vision to be the greatest wizard in the world. He brought a lead-lined box to store the meteorite enroute to its magically-reinforced chamber within Castle Wittgenstein. These symbols must be the secret password to enter the castle! Trace them over the door to gain entry.”

They all compared their finds: Brandi found a healing potion, Mallorhan showed off a wizard’s Grimoire (but then hid it from Agnes’ glare), Gary clinked 15 gold, while Katja displayed empty hands. Rega reasoned, “The warpstone must have remained encased in the lead box till 20 years ago when blight spread across Wittgendorf.” Brandi spoke, “We’ve spent too long in here. Exit before the guard becomes concerned.”

Fielbak: [S3E3] They sailed just a little further to a familiar stop. This time, Brandi deftly angled the barge against the dock, paid the docking fees, and led his team into the Pungent Well bar, “First round is on me.” Gary reminisced with the locals, “Last time we were here, our drunken Witch-Hunter impaled someone’s hand while he played darts. And knocked the winds out of another during that game of ‘Ball-n-Chain’. Good times, good times. Now, step aside and let me try my hand at it once again.” Meanwhile, the others listened to gossip. “There is a proclamation to cease and desist rioting between the Ulrick and Sigmar followers. There shall be no mention of the Sigmarian Heresy.” “The empire has been recruiting more riverwardens.” “Recruit?! You mean shanghaied. Pressed into the navy without voice in the matter.”

Altdorf: There was a backlog of ships awaiting their turn to berth. But a few coins added to the Riverwarden’s palm, helped speed their docking. “Ah, I see your papers are in order. Move ahead.” Brandi was already on edge: his 6^th sense pinging. “Welcome to Altdorf, and all its foul alleyways and cutthroats. Hopefully Gideon has moved on.”

Mallorhan jumped over the railing and sought the elven delegation within the capital city. Hours on edge till he was allowed audience with the queen’s representative. Where he pleaded his case. Relief he was back in their good graces. And even allowed to buy an elven bow! Meanwhile, Gary and Brandi checked on their banking. Pleased at their profits. Enough for the cavalryman to start thinking of an expensive long-rifle. Brandi added to his stash from his river profits. Agnes too was shopping: an armorer to blend her shield and bow together, “The bow attached to the edge so I can draw, and fire, then quickly defend.” As for Rega, Gary suggested, “If you want to be a member of the team, you’d best learn how to operate the deck cannons.” Instead, the dwarf sought training with bombs as he thought, “I’ve yet to see them fire the barge cannons. Bombs will be more useful.”

Temple of Verena: As planned, they met up at the temple. Katja had to ask the dwarf, “Did you buy new cloths? Now green instead of that blue tunic?” Only then did the dwarf notice, “Hum. Must have changed from all the road dust. I’ll have to wash them. [But all the washing in town wouldn’t matter: the moon Morrslieb grinned at the change.]

They presented the scholar, sister Ann, with their finds…and a gold donation. “Those vials of the bright red fluid are medicine used against consumption. As for this onyx rod, it’s magical but you’ll need to take it to the Wizard College for proper identification.” Only then did Gary remember the vial he carried since his first visit to Wittgendorf’s ghoul doctor. “Can you analyze what is in this?” As the scholar removed the stopper, tendrils suddenly shot out, while rapidly growing in length and girth, and wrapped about Ann’s throat. Brandi and Gary fought to replace the stopper.

With the tendrils gone, sister Ann gasp for breath as she clutched her raw neck. Minutes of unrest till she announced, “That must be pure warpstone dust! Encase it in lead and get rid of it!” But Gary gave up possession, “Witch-Hunters from the Temple of Sigmar can deal with it. We’ll send them right over.” Gary looked at the dwarf who only shrugged, “Don’t look at me. I’ve been banished for mentioning…well, I’m not welcomed.”

Wizard College: They sat for hours awaiting audience. Gary watched passing students as he reflected, “I killed a wizard once. Twice counting the wizard who turned my hand purple (now back to normal).” Agnes corrected him, “Henryk killed the first while Mallorhan killed the last.” But Gary insisted, “They acted in my accord; so, technically you can thank me.”

A robed professor finally appeared, “Now what is this about a magical item?” Brandi showed him the onyx rod. The man’s eyes lit up, “A magician’s wand! We’ll buy it off you.” Brandi bartered but upon learning it worth well over 100 gold, decided to keep it. To Agnes’ displeasure. Gary and Katja reasoned, “With the wand and grimoire, one of us should consider entering college.”

Kemperbad and South: The routine was becoming all too familiar as they watched stevedores loading their barges. “At least we have the Maria Borga registered in our name. I have it listed as The Merry Cook since the halfling Dumpling Hayfoot is onboard.” They stopped in Kemperbad to sale some cargo. Gary grumbled as he was confined to quarters. “You have enough purple-hands looking for you. I’m sure they recognize our barge.” Sure enough, they could easily spot onlookers on the dock and even overhead in the lifts transporting passengers to and from the city above.

They wasted a day before they finally shoved off against the current, heading south. Hours till they rounded the bend and saw the castle atop the distant hill. Gary stared thru his spyglass at the streets of Wittgendorf. “The dockside tavern is still closed. Can see withered people milling about. Wait! 6 soldiers on horseback leading a prisoner tied in a neck-brace.” He adjusted the focus, “Brandi, it’s your girlfriend Hilda! Looks like they are leading her away towards the castle.”

Mallorhan’s Story

As a young elf, Mallorhan was aligned with the Younger Kindreds, known also as the Kindreds of Haroith.  Their kindred is typified as being impatient and impulsive.  Many Elves leave these kindred when they are older, though other wilder Elves will stay within the kindred.  A mistrusted kindred by other Wood Elves, most regard those of Haroith as not understanding balance, and therefore making them dangerous to all others, often the first to react violently.  

This impatience and impulsivity caused Mallorhan to offend the Everqueen’s Consort and become somewhat of a pariah.  He has matured some since then and no longer considers himself a member of the Younger Kindred.  Mallorhan sought to redeem himself, find forgiveness, and join another kindred.

Next Session: https://rigglewwh.blogspot.com/2022/01/s3e11-enemy-withindeath-on-reik.htm