From the Journal of one Wigmar Heck, pt 11 (The founder of the feast)

18 Pflugzeit

I should probably stop writing now lest I damn myself in the eyes of whoever reads this but I find that I cannot. I must put these words on paper so that the true story of what happened that night in Bögenhafen is not forgotten. A copy I will send to Bova von Dunkelberg and urge her to investigate the foul cesspool of corruption that is Bögenhafen.

We brought Friederich Magirius with us to see Johannes Teugen, one of the big names of Bögenhafen, a key member of the Ordo Septenarius, and the man to host the most recent gathering of heretics. Yes, heretics. I call them out by their true name. I don't know if Magirius was delusional, merely misguided, a fool, or a monstrously accomplished liar. It's not important. Whatever he believed he was doing - maybe he really believed he was helping the city - doesn't matter. He's objectively a heretic - the human sacrifices and the sorceries were proof enough of that.

After a debate with some of the Graf's soldiers, Fabergus Heinzdork had apparently secured the Graf's support, we entered the mansion of the House of Teugen. Such opulence, such a meaningless display of wealth. If ever I become as rich, I'll do more with my gold than spend it on carved woods and ornamentation. I'll use it on fine wines and dresses for a procession of Bretonnian mistresses.

Johannes Teugen was a slippery sort, more willing to comply than expected, but unexpectedly unfazed. I demanded to be taken to Lady Isolde and the rest of our friends. He offered the use of his carriage. I declined. It may have been a mistake. Not shooting him in the face on sight might also have been a mistake. Coming to Bögenhafen might have been a mistake. But you cannot always know the consequences of your actions. Nor can you shoot every rich sod you meet and claim he's a heretic. You must act as you think best and see what happens. Life is curiously like a battlefield in that regard.

We were attacked by footpads as we neared the riverfront. They were too many and too determined for a random mugging. I can't prove it but I know the cult was behind the attack. Maybe we were being watched all the time. Maybe Magirius or Tuegen used sorcery. Whatever the cause, we were attacked, and had to fight for our lives in empty streets, surrounded by the thick mist coming from the river, the night lit by the light of the two half-full moons.

We got all of them. Or enough that the rest ran away. I don't know which and I don't care. Magirius and Tuegen were gone too. We had one man dead and another watchman wounded. I staunched the bleeding. He'd live to die screaming another day. That left me, Ulfberth, dear Thesalva, Philippe, Captain Goetrin, and one of his watchmen. 

Without Teugen to guide us we had something of a problem on our hands. We knew we were going to a warehouse on the docks, but I hadn't asked which one. Then again, had I asked, that pale bastard Teugen would probably have lied and we'd been left none the wiser.

Next, we were attacked by elves, the very ones stalking Thesalva. They had been tracking us all this time and now that we were exposed and weak they thought to finish us off. We were saved by the gods, specifically by Randal (except the last watchman who took one arrow too many). Thieves really do have a code of honor, at least in Bögenhafen. Among other things, it dictates protecting good citizens of the Empire from assault by foreign elves. I shall speak no more of the matter as these are good men, but not exactly law-abiding citizens.

We went through several warehouses owned by Tuegen without luck. With the help of some stevedores (the night rates are exorbitant - that's guild labor for you), we expropriated some bits and pieces and had it loaded on the Berebeli. The rest we handed over to the good people of Bögenhafen. Damages and restitution for the hardships they have suffered at the hands of greedy merchants. It's only fitting they be compensated. Only the gods know what fate awaited them had we not stopped the cultists.

The events that took place inside Warehouse 17 I will carry with me forever. As we entered, we came under attack by a sword-wielding woman. It was Marie, fighting with the strength of ten men and caring not that she was trying to murder old friends. Much as it hurt me, we had to put her down. As she fell, a shadowy shape - like the one from the sewers - fled her body and vanished.

Up the stairs, we went, to the 1st floor. We could hear chanting from the other side of a door. They must have heard us killing Marie - gunshots are nothing if not loud - but couldn't stop their foul ritual. Ulfberth broke down the door. That nearly cost him his life - a warding spell of some sort flung him away like a ragdoll. But the way was now open and we burst into a ritual chamber identical to the one hidden in the sewer temple.

Isolde was there, her dead body slumped across the bronze disk, her lifeblood spent to consecrate the foul circle of sorcery. Seven masked and robed men - the inner council of the Ordo - and an eight man whom I took to be Teugen's cousin, Gideon. A wild fight ensued. At one point things looked like it would all turn sour but Ulfberth got back up and went berserk on the bastards. Like a wild beast, he fought, tearing through our enemies like they were lambs sent to slaughter.

What came next is for Bova's eyes only. It doesn't belong in a journal like mine.

Few were left standing after the debacle. I was injured, but not badly. Same with Thesalva. Philippe was in bad shape, bones broken, and unable to stand. The captain had lost his eyes but was otherwise unscathed. Ulfberth was in a state, but alive. 

Of the cultists, only Magirius and one other remained alive. Teugen was dead at Ulfberth's hands, Gideon at mine. Several of the others had been shot dead by blunderbuss, pistol, and rifle - or had arrows sticking out of them. Not a warrior among them, only burghers and merchants. Should have hired more guards or learned how to fight.

Herr Erster Stadtrat Magirius was most apologetic. He sounded truly sincere but I was angry about our friends and felt like killing him then and there. Luckily for him, I did not. Instead, I went to look for Janna, that perhaps she might be salvaged. I did not find her, but I did fin Lady Isolde. They had swapped clothes and thus the servant had saved her mistress. Merciful gods. She looked a bit shaken but she'll make a fine wife nonetheless.

With Isolde alive, I decided to give Magirus the benefit of the doubt: I think he was a fool and a greedy and gullible one at that, but he had not openly embraced the darkness. Why do I think this, you might ask. It's a fair question. That very morning, Friederich Magirius freely gave us all his monetary assets and valuables. I tried telling him to give it to the temples, but he would have none of it. The Order of Seven had already donated to the temples and they had gladly taken the corrupt gold. We had saved Bögenhafen and we should have the reward. 

Addendum: I later learned that poor Magirius had hanged himself after we left his house. His actions weighed too heavily on his conscience. He's with Sigmar now.

The last survivor (I shall not mention his name here as there are legal proceedings underway that could complicate matters) was equally burdened with a heavy conscience, and before he expired he begged me to accept a letter of credit of some ten thousand crowns. Take this blood-stained silver off my hands, he said to me, so that perhaps my soul can be salvaged. Spend it on women or drink, he said, or put it to better use. Whatever you do, it will better than it follow me into the grave.

And that was that. With all that had transpired, it was hard to tell friend from enemy, or what scapegoats might be burned in the Götterplatz. Perhaps Heinzdrok was still alive, perhaps not. perhaps he'd be friendly, perhaps not. The graf was a big unknown. Time to settle our affairs and bid Bögenhafen goodbye. I swung by Richter, the half-torched inn, had a chat with Randal's get (those elves won't trouble Thes no more and Janna's and Marie's bodies will be given proper burials), and hired Lock, Stock, and Barl to represent me in financial matters after my departure.

When at long last Bögenhafen disappeared behind a bend in the river we gathered on the overfilled deck of the Berebeli for schnaps. I drank a lot of schnapps. I hope I never see Bögenhafen again. If I do, I hope it's burning.

From the Journal of one Wigmar Heck, pt 10 (Seven be thy name)

18 Pflugzeit

I need to write another letter to Bova - so much has happened - to think that I sent one this very morning! 

Armed with the grimoire we returned to the temple of Verena. Priestess Greta Harbokka listened intently and after some encouragement, accompanied us to the Temple of Sigmar. High Priest Ludo Edel had been murdered in his own chambers. Throat slashed and multiple stab wounds. Familiar by now.

We next spoke to Fabergus Heinzdork, a visiting "priest" who turned out to be a witch hunter. He declared we should go to the Adler Ring (that's where the rich folks live) and keep it under surveillance while he roused the Graf and got some troops to aid our cause. Priestess Harbokka would watch over the dagger, grimoire, and the broken bronze disk in Verena's temple. Left A&A with Harbokka. They're not fighters and shouldn't be treated as such. Every time you bring rookies to a fight, someone panics, and then shit happens. 

Stopped by the Chief Magistrate to see if he was doing better and indeed he was. The medicine Anna and Annika had brewed made all the difference. Had a quick chat with both Richter and his housekeeper. Learned something interesting: Watch Captain Goetrin was the last person to see the magistrate, right before he fell ill. And the captain never makes house calls...

Leaving the house, we met Captain Goetrin and three of his men right outside. He was making a second house call. Naturally, I was a bit apprehensive. The man and insisted he'd never been to the magistrate's house before. The housekeeper insisted he had. Richter couldn't remember. It was a strange conversation, but the captain seemed honest and proper as they come. When the housekeeper said he's smelled of sulfur when last he came around the pieces suddenly fit. An impostor, using sorcery to wear the face of another? Is such a thing possible? I must write to Bova.

Returning to the inn, accompanied now by the captain and his men, we found it on fire. Some unsavory men had come looking for Thesalva, but the innkeep had spirited her away to safety. Shortly thereafter flames and smoke appeared. It got even stranger when Herr Landau told me witnesses had seen a man looking like Wigmar right before. As if von Liberung would stoop to arson!

Worse was to come. Lady Isolde, Janna, and Marie were gone, all three of them. Not a trace to be found. No signs of struggle, no witnesses to a kidnapping. Up until this point the whole affair had been business. Now it felt rather personal. Arsonists burning my rooms. The kidnapping of my future wife. Von Liberung will not stand for this. Honor must be satisfied. That's what baron Malthuus would have done.

It was rather late, close to midnight before we finally reached the Adler Ring. Whatever meeting may have been taking place was long over. Perhaps we should have moved faster but we were waiting for the witch hunter anyway. 

Note to self: Having a watch captain at your side is both a good thing and a bad. It's handing for getting into places and convincing people but they have an annoying tendency to speak about 'the law,' what's 'proper', and 'evidence.' Quite limiting.

A lone figure appeared in the mist, eerily backlit by the light of the two moons. One Friederich Magirius, head of the Merchant's Guild and chief of the Town Council. Well known to Captain Goetrin if not to us. He admitted to coming from the Teugens, so I pistolwhipped him good and dragged the man into the park. A quick dunk in the fountain and he was cognizant (that's a word a noble would use) enough to speak.

He admitted the whole thing, quick and easy as that. Though he did try to convince us that the Ordo Septenarius - the Order of Seven - was a benign organization that wanted the best for all of Bögenhafen's citizens. The ritual, he claimed, was indeed magical, but blessed by Bögenauer and Handrich, intended to bring prosperity to all (especially the already rich). He had a rather hard time explaining away the dagger, the grimoire, and the human sacrifices.

From the Journal of one Wigmar Heck, pt 9 (On the third day)

18 Pflugzeit

On the last day of the Schaffenfest, the town of Bögenhafen went mad...too much happened to record it all in my journal, so I'll have to limit myself to the essentials:

I woke rather early. Too much lovemaking, schnaps, and letter-writing makes you wake early - where is the logic in that? I went downstairs to order a chicken prepared for breakfast. Only commoners eat herring every day. Nobles have better fare. My fair elven maid was there, a bit worse for wear, head bandaged and all that, but on her feet again. I was very glad to see her - almost gave her a hug. Good thing I didn't - she'd surely stab me if I tried. A noble scion should always have his warrior princess guarding his back. I hope she never leaves!

There was a lot of stuff to juggle. Errands and visits. Swung by the temple of Verena and spoke with the priestess in charge, Greta Harbokka, a greying lady that was more librarian than priestess. She did know of Bova von Dunkelberg. That convinced me to show her the dagger from the sewer temple. She inspected the runes and declared them to be of the darkest kind - symbols of Chaos, drawn by a sorcerer. If there was any doubt about the nature of the chamber (I was never in doubt myself) the dagger laid the matter to rest. I left the accursed weapon in a lead box and raced off for my appointments with Lady Isolde. Should we marry? I think we would make a fine couple. The pride of Ubersreik. She'd teach me the fiddle and we'd entertain guests and fuck all night.

The joust. An impressive, if pointless, display of archaic strength at arms. Then Isolde's final performance at the fair. Had a nice chat with Doctor Mathusius regarding his creatures and business. He's not such a bad sort. A con man and a charlatan trying to make his way through the world by giving the commoners a sprinkle of wonder in their dreary lives in return for their hard-earned silver. Some of his freaks may not be entirely legal - but until they run away and kill people where is the harm? He got the rat-ogre-man-thing from another freakshow down by Nuln. Kept it docile by feeding it a potion a day. Only the stupid dwarf assistant had mixed up the potions and the thing had gone mad. Good help is so hard to find.

Chief Magistrate Richter had fallen ill the day before and when I went to see him, he was faring no better. He was well on his way to Morr's gardens. Perhaps I should have seen him earlier, but my schedule was so frightfully busy. Fortunately, Anna was able to diagnose him with Purple Brain Fever, a rare terminal disease. With the aid of a local (grossly incompetent) physician, we gained access to a pharmacy and were able to save the man's life by brewing the correct medicine. I say "we" but in reality, it was A&A who did the work on that one.

It was already rather late when I brought Ulfberth to see the Steinhägers at their office. Closed up and everyone gone home except the nightwatchman - and Heinrich Steinhäger, younger brother to Franz, the head of the trading house. This should turn out to be a most fortunate meeting. He listened to my questions - and answered some of them, rather vaguely and not to my liking. After a tiny bit of confusion where I considered using his head as a battering ram to uncover the secret passage to the ritual chamber, he set my head straight and then left the officers, leaving me free to search for evidence. And evidence we found. Some of it rather circumstantial, clues about a secret order - the Ordo Septinarius - and a clandestine meeting. The hidden grimoire was rather more of a smoking gun.

Noble ranks of the Glorious Empire of Sigmar Heldenhammer

The list is not exhaustive. There exist, especially at the lower levels, many variant, and composite titles, often with local variations. 

IMPERATOR

Kaiser/Kaiserin (Emperor/Empress): The sovereign of the Empire. The first was Sigmar. The current one is Lutipold. In between, there have been many. Sometimes more than one at the same time.

SOVEREIGNS

Kurfürst/Kurfürstin (Elector Prince/Princess): The all-powerful Elector-Counts of the Empire. It is they who decide who the next Emperor will be. Many are also the rulers of one of the great states (the Moot included) that make up the Empire.

König/Königin (King/Queen): There have certainly been both kinds and queens ruling domains within the borders of the Empire. In this day and age, the title is used only to refer to foreign sovereigns.

HIGH NOBILITY

Erzherzog/Erzherzogin (Archduke/Archduchess): A high noble title below Elector-Count.

Großherzog/Großherzogin (Grand Duke/Duchess): Another high title about equal to Archduke.

Großfürst/Großfürstin (Grand Prince/Princess): High title that's about equal to the other high ducal titles. Sometimes give to peers without actual domains to rule.

Herzog/Herzogin (Duke/Duchess): This title is held by many regional overlords throughout the Empire. Typically a step down from Arch/Grand Duke.

Fürst/Fürstin (Prince/Princess): About equal to Duke. Lesser version of Grand Prince.

Markgraf/Markgräfin (Marquess/Marchioness): Originally denoting a fief (march) on the borders of the Empire. Today used more or less interchangeably with Duke/Prince.

Prinz/Prinzessin (Prince/Princess): Title given to the children of the high nobility (those of the lesser nobility must make do with Lord/Lady). The prefix Crown is added to denote an heir. 

LESSER NOBILITY

Graf/Gräfin (Count/Countess): Technically a lesser title, there are several Grafs with the power and prestige to rival the grandest of dukes.

Vizegraf/Vizegräfin (Viscount/Viscountess): Literally a lesser Count.

Burggraf/Burggräfin: Variant of Viscount that holds a castle or other property directly from the Emperor.

Baron/Baronin: The lowest hereditary noble title that's also on the list of peers. Some baronies are of a size comparable to small duchies and their rulers among the most powerful nobles of the Empire.

---

Baronet/Baronetin (Baronet/Baronetess): The lowest hereditary title (will automatically pass from father to oldest lawful son) in the Empire. Baronets are not considered true peers of the realm but are allowed a coat of arms and are counted as part of the aristocracy.

---

Freiherr: Non-hereditary title of the lower nobility. One step above knight.

Ritter/Ritterin (Knight/Dame): Non-hereditary title, either granted for exemplary service or through membership of one of the knightly orders. Knights are not peers but they are part of the aristocracy.

Edler/Edle (Esquire/Lady): Ambiguous, non-hereditary title claimed by members of the landed gentry and the spouses and children of lesser the lesser nobility. In Ostland and some other places, the equivalent title is Junker/Junkerin. 

From the Journal of one Wigmar Heck, pt 8 (Something rotten in Bögenhafen)

17 Pflugzeit 

On the second day of the Schaffenfest, I brought Ulfberth and Thesalva into the sewers. The smell when the watchman popped the cover of the manhole...but it wasn't too horrible once you got down into the dark, stinking tunnel. You got used to it pretty quickly. Ulfberth not so much. He threw up repeatedly and didn't let up until he was well and truly spent.

We wandered for a long time in the dark with only lamp-light to guide us. Along wide tunnels with a refuse channel in the middle and walkways on the sides. It was hard to tell where we were and what time it was. At one point we found a corpse floating in the channel. A dwarf drunkard I had last seen at the fair - in the stocks outside the Magistrate's tent.

Had nearly given up finding the three-legged goblin when I caught the scent of blood. Strange how this familiar smell could cut through the stink of the sewer. We followed a bloody smear along one wall - until it abruptly stopped. Couldn't find a mechanism so I had Ulfberth hammer the wall with the back of his ax.

Soon enough we had a hole big enough to walk through. Fresh mortar and a wooden construction backing a secret door. And beyond it, a hidden temple or ritual chamber. A mystic pentagram with seven points (a septagram would be the correct name Anna told me afterward) inside a double circle drawn in blue salt, a silver candlestick with a black candle at each point, and a bronze disk with a ram's head in the center.

We found the remains of the goblin. It had been...eaten. Only the bones of the unfortunate creature were left, the marrow sucked out. Whoever had eaten it had been hungry indeed. There was more blood in there, dried blood, a great deal in the middle of the circle, and some sprinkled across the seven points. A dagger etched with arcane symbols we found in a cupboard along with more candles.

We located the nearest manhole and began our ascent. I was up on the streets with Ulfberth right behind when the monster struck. Thesalva shouted something, then fell silent. Ulfberth let go of the rope and landed on his feet in the muck. I dropped back down, landing in the middle of the refuse channel, in time to see Ulfberth flying through the air, hurled with great force by an unseen assailant.

The beast was not of this world. Foul spirit or daemon? Maybe a spirit. In the stories, the daemons are foul monsters with claws and scales and forked tongues. This thing was an immaterial thing, made of smoke and shadows. Its claws still cut though. My pistol-shots, however, passed right through the thing.

On a whim, I brought out the bronze disk and shot it between the eyes. The disk that is. The shadow-creature screamed. In agony or anger, I couldn't tell. Ulfberth joined the fray and between us, we hacked the disk to pieces. The shadow fled down the tunnel, defeated or banished. It all happened so fast. There was no time to be afraid or stand around doing nothing. I wonder what Bova will make of this. Should I tell her at all?

We got Thesalva out of the sewers and brought her to the temple of Shallya. They burned our clothes, hosed us with cold water, and threw lime dust on us until we were white as snow. Long story short: she will live but will have to remain in the temple for the time being.

Visited another temple on our way back to the inn. The great temple of Sigmar was presided over by High Priest Ludo Edel, a man not much older than me. He took the disk and promised to look into matters. He didn't recognize Bova's name and seemed more concerned with us not discussing what we had seen - and especially not mentioning that the secret room was located between the Steinhäger offices.

There is something rotten in Bögenhafen. And I intend to stick my nose into it. We must plan and rest but on the morrow, we must act. But where do we start?

Something rotten in Moneyhafen

Been using 4ed price lists because they seemed more realistic than 2ed. For example, 1 gold buys you a sword or other hand weapon (used to cost 10 gc) and a pistol is 8 gold (rather than an insane 100). Prices have been divided by between 3 and 10 (or more in the case of some things, like firearms).

This adjustment has the benefit of not having to use a wheelbarrow to carry enough gold to go shopping 😅

So far, so good.

But not ALL prices have been adjusted in 4ed...

For example, the cost of food, drink, and many services are unchanged. 10 silver shillings (20 silver to 1 gold) buys you a moderately comfortable private room at an inn (no feather beds). In BOTH editions. 

So in 2ed you can have a private room for 20 nights for the price of a sword. In 4ed it's just 2 nights a sword - which is totally preposterous. Incredibly sloppy game design/editing. Sigh.

Expect an adjustment of prices. Either stuff like food and lodging gets cheaper or items get more expensive - or both. Treasury to be adjusted accordingly.

From the Journal of one Wigmar Heck, pt 7 (Schaffenfest)

15 Pflugzeit

We arrived on the docks of Bögenhafen the very day before the Schaffenfest, the great spring fair. Living aboard the little boat didn't seem fitting for von Liberung and his retinue so we left the Berebeli in search of accommodations. Got a tip about a nice inn over by the East Gate called Ende der Reise - the Journey's End. We got lucky: as we arrived the innkeep was evicting a pimp and his ladies from the premises (hadn't been paying the landlord a percentage). Got a room for Isolde and her ladies (Thesalva included) and one for Freiherr von Liberung and his not-so-ladylike companions. Philippe and Ulfberth will just have to make do. Can't go around paying for everybody. Not until I have my inheritance. Then I'll have money enough.

Speaking of which: the inheritance was too good to be true. I took Thesalva and went to see the lawyers at Lock, Stock, and Barl. I think Barl may be one of those gnomes. Or maybe he's just a small dwarf or a midget. Or a hairy, ugly halfling. Anyway. The inheritance was real enough. A deed for some land outside Ubersreik (and a house in the town). A gold signet ring, a dagger with the coat of arms cut into the pommel - and a purse of some twenty lousy gold. Not twenty thousand. But twenty. All that was left after the legal fees and such claimed the gnome-dwarf-midget-halfling-person. 

The letter I carried promised twenty thousand was a forged document. Or so the gnome claimed. Naturally, I was a bit disappointed. But not entirely surprised. I always suspected it was too good to be true - and probably a trap. I had a chat with his partners, Herr Lock (a dwarf, specializing in commerce law) and Herr Stock (an elderly human, specializing in guild law). We decided to agree to disagree and to bring the matter before Magistrate Richter on the very next day. I then paid them a small sum to prepare documents to change my name from Kastor to Wigmar. My claim is tenuous at best. I need all the help I can get to make this official.

An old friend

Adolphus Kuftsos, the bounty hunter from Weissbruck, came to see me at the inn later that evening. He had arrived before us in Bögenhafen (as promised) and must have been keeping the lawyers under surveillance. Turned out he's the one responsible for forging that document. It was a trap all right, to draw Kastor out so he could be captured.

Kastor had been involved in some really nasty shit up in Nuln a few years ago. Something about a cult and possible blood sacrifice. Nasty business that. As the "magister impedimentae" Kastor had been responsible for, among other things, snatching people off the streets. He'd picked up the wrong person and had fled the city. The bounty hunter had worked for a long time to find him and lure him out into the open.

Adolphus had no idea if this Kastor fellow was even remotely related to the late Baronet Liberung. It was all just a convenient ploy, an opportunity too good to pass over. He forged the letter and sent it to Nuln, trusting it to reach the real Kastor sooner or later. The important part is my lands do exist and I'm not going to let these clerical details stop me from claiming my birthright.

I told the bounty hunter what had become of Kastor: long dead and left to rot in the woods. He was disappointed. He'd hoped to bring him in alive, for questioning (more like gruesome torture until death). We parted on good terms and even agreed to travel together to Ubersreik after the Schaffenfest.

Unfortunately, poor Adolphus was murdered that very night, not far from the inn. Stabbed many times and throat cut. Really vicious attack. Savage. I guess Kastor's "friends" from Altdorf are still on to us (according to Adolphus they may still believe I'm the real Kastor and that I'm trying to cash in and leave my old friends out in the cold). We have to be careful and vigilant.

16 Pflugzeit

What a day. It started simple enough. Did some errands. Then I brought Barl (I'm sure he's a gnome, I want to ask, but it would be ill-mannered, and manners are what sets a Reiklander noble apart from the common chaff) to see Chief Magistrate Heinz Richter at the Festival Court. Apparently, this Richter fellow was the one magistrate Barl trusted to expedite matters quickly and to our mutual satisfaction.

My companions drifted off, each to sate their own festive tastes. Marie ended up in the wrestling ring (mild surprise), Ulfberth in the beer tents (no surprise), and so forth. In the end, only trusted Thesalva remained at my side. She's almost like a dog, following me around for no reward beyond a bit to eat and drink. No, not a dog. She's too pretty and smells much too nice to warrant such a description. But the point stands: why does she cling to my side? 

Richter seemed a decent sort for a judge. Aged but not decrepit. Stern but not unfair. Not one for long-winded speeches - or bribes. My name is now Wigmar von Liberung, formerly known as Kastor Liberung. Didn't mention my disagreement with the lawyers over the twenty thousand. I'm never getting the twenty thousand. But if I play my cards right, I could get something out of it. 

I did manage to invite the Chief Magistrate to eat a quick lunch and presented to him my request for a scene for Lady Isolde. He said no, not his business. Fair enough. After lunch, I spent some time with Isolde (Marie finally out of the way) and together we gawked at Doctor Malthusius's Zoocopeia and all the strange creatures it contained. I'll describe each of them in my letter to Bova von Dunkelberg. Not sure what's legal or not for a freakshow.

That's when things took a hard turn towards strangedorf. One of the creatures - a huge creature that looked like the lovechild of an ogre and a rat - tore free and rampaged through the crowd. I shot it five times before it would be still (think I'll have some more silver bullets made, just in case). Another creature, a three-legged mutant goblin, had run away during the confusion.

Soon I found myself before the Chief Magistrate, promising to round up the goblin. In return, a handsome reward - and a stage for Isolde. The Zoocopeia would be turned into her playground for the duration of the Shcaffenfest. Half the income for her, the other half to the city, to pay for damages and compensate the families of the dead.

So I went looking for the greenskin. It had escaped into the sewers. Of course, it had. Baronet von Liberung does not normally enter the sewers but a promise to the Chief Magistrate must be honored. But that's a problem for the morrow. Tonight we will eat and drink and celebrate. The future looks bright. Very bright indeed.

The Berebeli

The Berebeli on the water

The Berebeli is a medium-sized Reikland river barge. It's 23 feet wide and some 75 feet long which makes for a spacious cargo vessel that can also fit into the narrow Weissbruck canal and other Reikland waterways. Larger barges do exist and can carry many times more cargo but these vessels cannot use the lesser canals nor travel as far upriver as smaller craft.

The bulk of the Berebeli is taken up by the hold. Robust cargo can - and often is - placed on the foredeck as well. There is a small forecastle that's used for observation when passing along difficult stretches of water. The cabin runs from the mainmast and aft. It's divided into three compartments: one for the captain, one for the first mate, and one for the rest of the crew. These rooms are often rented out to wealthier passengers - the crew will then sleep in hammocks or deck or in the hold depending on season and weather. Poorer passengers must stay on deck. The aft of the barge holds a small aftcastle (so the barge master can have a view over the cabin and cargo) where can be found the wheel.

The Berebeli normally has a crew of only six: the captain (missing), Josef (first mate/acting captain), two craftsmen (Gerd the carpenter and Waldo in charge of the sail, rig, and ropes), and two able rivermen (Norbert and Johan). A crew of eight or more would be better but as an independent trader, the Berebeli can't afford a bigger crew.

The Berebeli primarily runs the Bögenhafen-Weissbruck-Altdorf route but will sometimes go down to Carroburg or follow the Vorbergland canals all the way to Nuln. Only rarely does it venture out on the River Reik or along any of the other major waterways of the Empire.

Since the Berebeli isn't part of any trade guild it's very much dependent on staying on good terms with local merchants and town councils. It also needs to take whatever cargo and passengers it can get and for a lower price than guild vessels.

Liberung

"Liber" is a Classical word meaning "free" or "open" that is the origin of many very old Reikspiel words. 

One such word is "Liberung" which basically means "freedom."

Liber is not to be confused with the common Reikspiel word for "free" which is "frei" and from which the term "Freiherr" is derived (meaning free lord, the lowest noble rank, just above knight/ritter).

Liberung is a relatively common surname that came into being as a way for freemen to distinguish themselves from peasant serfs. It's in no way related to Freiherr or noble rank.

The name for a fief granted to a "Liberung" should be "Liberungen," not just "Liberung". Liberungen would mean "the place of the Liberung(s)" and be grammatically correct. Calling a place Liberung doesn't make linguistical sense.

This is what you get for sleeping with a scholar...