23rd Jahrdrung
It was a very busy day. Having placed Thesalva into Walter Müller's care I set about to make sure the villagers realized what danger they were in. The chopped-off head of the mutant convinced them of the gravity of the situation. Herr Wald sent a rider carrying the head to the other homesteads, hoping to convince them to seek safety within the village's walls. The head and the fate of the Böhms - the taken family - surely did convince them of the danger.
Speaking of the wall. It was made of dry stone, too low (in some places there was no wall at all, only a wooden palisade), and in poor repair. What had once been a ditch was non-existent for long stretches. I did my best to encourage the villagers to double their efforts. Herr Löw, the village smith and priest was most useful in this regard. Sigmar's priests are no different in the Middenland - work hard, protect the flock. Soon the entire village was either directly or indirectly involved in strengthening the defenses.
Save the Müllers, it seemed. They were busy cooking supper and caring for Thesalva. I was again invited to their table and could not in good conscience turn down an offer of real food served on a plate, to be eaten with cutlery and washed down with schnapps.
So I washed and put on my good shirt. Thesalva was in a dress, looking as fine as she was uncomfortable. Annika, the miller's wife was just fine-looking. Much too young and fair for a small village and a husband like Walter. Wearing a dress not much more modest than Helga's. She had teeth as nice as Thesalva but didn't smell half as good. A damn fine cook though. Meat on the bone, hot and tender, turnips boiled just right with butter, sauerkraut sublimely spiced, and fresh bread. Ale and schnapps - and wine for the lady elf. A fine table indeed.
Thesalva Uthele
After supper, I walked the lines with Thesalva, now back in her own garb, ears covered. It's important to put on a good show. That's what Freiherr Malthuus always did. I got Thesalva a bow from Wald. At first, he wouldn't give her any, but when he saw she was an elf his tone changed. She's got a good pull for a girl that slender.
Like Walter had said, Herr Wald did speak some elvish. Or Elthárin as the long-ears call their tongue. I asked him to speak to the girl, get her full name and her story. Her given name I already knew: Thesalva. Elves don't have family names like we do. Or maybe they do, but they don't use 'em much. Instead, they have a second given name that's got some meaning to it. Thesalva Uthele: Thesalva, the girl with the heart of a merciless warrior. Not a name I would have guessed. She a sea-elf, like the ones in Marienburg, only from a city we've never heard of, far away. And yes, Iarin and the other elves are not her friends. They are her captors.
Returned to the mill to get a few hours on the feather bed. There was not a lot of sleep but a whole lot of miller's wife if you catch my drift. A most entertaining, if exhausting experience. And here I was thinking Helga was at the height of her craft. The lady seemed pleased throughout. A good thing, surely, but she kept at me until the wee hours. Scarcely any sleep. Again.
The attack
Of the attack, there is not much to say. There was a feint against the far gate but the main assault came where the wall's at its weakest. Predictable. It was also where we had prepared an inner ditch, spiked, and barricaded, with spears and bows waiting.
Thesalva heard them before the rest of us. We made ready. Our fire-starter was shot dead in seconds. They had archers. Hadn't planned for that. I covered as Thesalva fired the fire-arrows. In the firelight we saw them coming, ten or more hairy beasts, running on all fours, hunched. We killed some but they scaled the palisade - then tore it down. What inhuman strength. The ditch slowed them some but not enough. Soon they were among the militia. Were it not for the timely arrival of Herr Wald and his best men it could have gotten ugly.
The rest of the monsters fled, leaving behind their dead and wounded. Thesalva did the dirty work, unbidden, cutting throats with cold efficiency. I can see where she got her name now. Most fitting. Seven of their dead to three of ours. A fourth there was his guts torn open. I gave him Signmar's mercy to spare him a day of agony. He's in a better place now.
24th Jahrdrung
Went into the hills, hot on the heels of our attackers. Me, Fritz, Jugen, Thesalva, Wald, and his two best hunters. A small party, quick, and quiet. We found one of the mutants bled out in a thicket. One of Wald's men dug out my bullet from the creature's hairy gut. They die to lead and steel, but slower than any man or beast I've ever come across.
We found their lair among the wooded hills, a sort of cave formed by overhanging slabs of rock. Three of the hairy creatures were there. They seemed agitated and distracted. We peppered them with bullets and arrows. They were slow in dying but we had the advantage of numbers and surprise.
Our enemies were keeping prisoners in three pens. One of the men (six in number), one for the women and children (about a score, I didn't bother counting, including the missing Böhms) and one for a big, bearded fellow (stark naked I might add) who turned out to be Ulfberth, the Norscan mercenary the villagers had hired during the wintertime. Needless to say, we set them free.
The loot was poor. A woman's golden wedding ring - with the name Waldemar Grimm engraved on the inside - on the finger of one of the beasts. No sign of my promised ten crowns or anything else of value. I wanted to push on but daylight was wasting and the prisoners could not find their way back alone, in the dark. I also didn't want to tangle with a dozen or more enemies in the dark...
As we trekked back to Unfer, Ulfberth told of a priest of "the Drinker" and a dark ritual under the full moon that turned men into beasts called "skin-changers." These foul creatures could take the form of men and beasts both. Sounded a lot like mutants to me but he said it was different. They were rare in the Empire he said, but well known in the lands of the Norscans. He also told me they could indeed be killed by ordinary means but were more easily slain by silver. No harder to kill than men. An men die easy to bullets. It sounded a bit far-fetched but I decided to have a few bullets and arrowheads made of silver. Just in case.
It was well into the night when we finally returned to Unfer, Ulrich and the men from Neue Etzel were there, along with the Brettoninan knight, his squires, and the Duke's men-at-arms. The Brettoninan had taken my spot on the feather bed. I slept on a wooden bench at the inn. Thesalva kept me company. Not in that way. Just company. It wasn't too bad.
25th Jahrdrung
We made ready to ride at first light the following day. I was mildly surprised to see Emmanuel Giscard - the knight - and the rest of the men ready to ride out with us. Annika made me a charm to go with the healing draughts she'd given me (she'd been too shy to tell me what they were) the day before. It was a queer little wooden figure. I hung it around the neck. You can never have too many charms against evil.
We made good progress, being mounted men all, and knowing the path ahead of us. Herr Emmanuel spoke some with Thesalva in the elven tongue. Apparently, elves are a lot more common in Brettonia. Like dwarfs in the Empire, I guess. He spoke a little to me as well, calling my actions chivalrous. That the Lady of the Lake would approve. I let him talk. No sense gainsaying your betters.
We left the horses at the mutant's den and made our way up the creek towards the standing stones. We were no longer in the Duchy of Neue-Etzel but with both Sigmar and the Lady of the Lake on our side, we'd be fine. The things we hunted were enemies of all men, duchies, and nobles' quarrels be damned.
Shot a skin-changer hiding in a tree and another in the gorge who was hurling rocks at us. The silver bullets were doing the trick. They were no harder to kill than ordinary men. Jugend had a sort of fit further upstream. On a whim, I shot a crow flying above. Jugen fell face-first into the creek but soon recovered. I knew the stories of wizards' familiars as well as any man. Maybe that's what it was: sorcery most foul.
The knight pressed ahead, flanked by his squires. They came under attack. Three of the creatures were cut down - or shot dead by silver bullets and arrowheads. When we crested the ridge we were standing on the hidden plateau. A fog so thick it couldn't be natural draped everything in white. Sorcery indeed. Into the mist, the Brettonian's went without delay. I followed, brave Thesalva at my side.
Ritter Emmanuel's sword was glowing now, and the mists seemed to recoil from it, creating a bubble of clarity within the white. It was as strange a sight as ever I saw. Good thing though, as soon we came under attack. More of the beasts attacked from this mist but we saw them come and drove them off with only a squire down. I halted to save the man's life - the knight pushed relentlessly forward - then got back into the fight.
We found the other squire with his face ripped off. Like someone had taken a knife, cut the flesh down the middle, and then peeled everything back. No one stops to do a thing like that in the middle of battle. Not just sorcery but darkest magic. That's what it was.
The wicker-man at the center of the stone circle was ablaze. A roaring fire too hot to approach. No sign of any priest. Not until a figure with skin as black as coal and burning blood stepped out of the bonfire, silver sickle dripping blood in his hand. The dark priest at last. I had a mind to turn and run then, I can admit as much to my journal, but then I remembered Freiherr Malthuus's words: the Empire was not built on the back of cowards and weaklings. True that, so I shot the sorcerous bastard instead.
He was long in the killing. Silver had no particular effect on him. But we kept at it with rifle, bow, and glowing sword until at last he fell, reduced to no more than a charred corpse. No sign of any loot, save the silver sickle, which Ritter Emmanuel kicked into the still-burning bonfire. He told me to forget this place and promised rich rewards - in this world and the next - for my bravery if I put it out of my mind. I liked the "this world" part better than "the next."
Annika's charm was but a charred piece of wood after the fight. Had it protected me from an evil spell? Or just caught fire from a stray spark? Neither seemed likely.
As we rode back, Emmanuel told me a little of his homeland, of the Lady of the Lake, and his quest to rid the world of evil things. Not a life I would have chosen. Too much danger and hardly any rewards. The beasts we had fought were called lycanthropes by scholars. Not something I needed to know. Skin-changers sounds more appropriate.
Despite the lateness of our arrival, the entire village came out to greet us. They had feared the worst and their relief was a sight to behold. There were beers and schnapps aplenty. Stew too. Got a few hours of sleep on the bench, Thesalva watching over me. I'm starting to think elves don't sleep as men do. Why didn't I turn her in for the diamonds? I can't explain it. I just didn't and I'm not going to.
26th Jahrdrung
Ritter Emmanuel took his time the following morning. We waited. Didn't want to ride with a small party to Herenhorst. On account of the elves you see. They were still lurking in the woods, I was sure. No way that Iarin chap was giving up so easily.
Had to endure a lot of grateful villagers while we waited. Even got an offer to take over the Böhm homestead, widow and kids and everything. I declined. If I wanted to chop wood and feed pigs I'd become a farmer, not a soldier. Besides, there was no feather bed at the homestead, and the widow looked like she'd never seen Altdorf. If it was the miller's wife that was the widow I'd consider it.
Good thing we waited. The elves were on the road, sure as sure. But Ritter Emmanuel told them off. No way he was handing a lady over to a band of long-eared brigands. The elves caved and took to the woods. I don't think we've seen the last of them. If I get the chance, I'll put a bullet in all of them and claim the diamonds for me and Thesalva.
We left the rest of the party at Herenhorst and rode on to Neue Etzel, reaching the gates in the afternoon. Had a bath, as did my elf friend. Even she was starting to smell. Come to think of it I wish the Middenlanders had more and better bath houses.
Ulrich and Emmanuel arrived at the gates just before dark. Heavy wagons are slow.
27th Jahrdrung
Got Thesalva a dress. If I can get her to eat more, maybe she'll fill it out. Cost me half a crown but she should blend in better. For the first time, I noticed there are elves living in Neue Etzel. Not many. Just a few. Living ordinary lives.
I went to get the elf bow from the broker. Paid at least three times what I got for it: the Grimm ring and three crowns. I hope it's worth it.
Emmanuel's party left for the Etzelhaus, leaving behind their baggage. Probably as weary from the road as we. A bath and a feather bed in the Duke's castle is better than staying at another flea-ridden inn!
28th Jahrdrung
Fair spring weather. Spent the day with Thesalva. With the dress and the headscarf, she looks almost human. But she's too tall, proud, and pretty to be taken for a common wench. Might have to work on that. But first, she'll have to learn Reikspiel. What am I trying to do here? Am I keeping her? What for?
Started planning the trip to Altdorf. I've three things on my list: pistols, a feather mattress, and a visit to a certain establishment recommended by Helga. Have to bring Thesalva along. Get her away from the elves. From Altdorf, she can take a boat to Marienburg. There she'll find more sea-elves.
Captain came around. Told me the Duke wanted to see me. He'd send his carriage. Not sure if it's a good thing - or a very bad.
