I haven't written in a while. Not since Kemperbad. That was, what, two weeks ago? Something like that.
4 Ulrichzeit
We stopped at von Wittgenstein's old island observatory on our way upriver. The tower was very close to completion and the remaining dwarfs in a good mood. It was baking day on the island, a casket of beer was opened, no one died, and the dead did not stir from their graves. I revisited the secret underground lair and came away with some interesting odds and ends. Among them a golden crown set with precious stones, worthy of a king of old, and a ring made like a serpent biting its tail.
5 Ulrichzeit
I persuaded the dwarfs to come work for me. They packed up their things and came along on the boat. The rest of the bread and the beer came along for the trip.
7 Ulrichzeit
We bade the dwarfs and the lady of the boat farewell and took the ferry across the River Reik. We had to go across in twos to bring the horses. In hindsight we didn't really need our steeds. At all. But along they came.
Wittgendorf, the village of Castle Wittgenstein, was a surprisingly pleasant place. Well cared for and filled with what seemed fairly well-fed and happy little peasants and craftsmen. A far cry from the downtrodden, miserable, stinking pack of ner-do-wells we had been expecting.
As is my fashion I immediately arranged for drinks at the local inn. Along came Lady Margritte, daughter of the House of Wittgenstein, our riding on this fine day in early winter. A fine woman she was, groomed like a noble lady used to the feather beds of Altdorf and the good things in life. A woman after Wigmar's taste I would say. Her man, Lieutenant Doppler was not fine. An ugly, coarse lump, face burned in some fire long ago. I had a mind to run him through but I did not. Temperance.
We were invited to dine at the castle the following day but were not invited to stay the night. That was contrary to my plans. We made arrangements at the inn instead. After dark we snuck out to have a look around. Some undeads - or mayhap "unfortunates" I did not check so closely - at the graveyard we dealt with. Then we found a band of outlaws in the temple of Sigmar - abandoned since the last priest was murdered by a mad beggar.
I don't much like outlaws. But this band promised to be useful to my cause. Their leader, Sigrid, offered to show us a way into the castle. A secret way, unguarded. We accepted the offer and into the forest we went...
Castle von Wittgenstein
The way in was not entirely without peril but it was unguarded. Perhaps even unknown by the castle's occupants. We found ourselves in a ruined building in the outer bailey, two glasses or so after midnight. It was most fortunate that we had been shown the secret path. Castle von Wittgenstein is a formidable fortress of two imposing baileys, with an impossible stone bridge in between. An entire army could bleed itself dead trying to take this place.
We moved quickly and decisively, avoiding for the most part contact with the few guards and servants that were out and about. Those we could not avoid, my dead Thesalva quietly killed. We did release a prisoner though: a man claiming to be the priest of Sigmar. He seemed honest and sincere, but later I learned that he wasn't the priest, but the madman who'd killed Sigmar's man. I'll make a note not to release everybody I come across. Not without making sure they are innocent and worthy of release.
A rainstorm brok as we cross the bridge towards the inner bailey. High winds and driving rain and sleet. We got real wet but the storm let us get across without the guards seeing or hearing anything. We let them taste the steel and that was that.
Of the horrors that awaited inside the walls of the inner bailey I will be brief:
We burned a vile temple to the ground and purged the heretics inside by fire and blade and gunshot and glorious grenades.
We met the old Baron Ludvig von Wittgenstein. Not dead at all, merely holed up in his own tower. Alive, but unfortunate, if you catch my drift. A most learned, noble, and cultured person. We spent longer with him than maybe we should, but musical touch was sublime. The baron begged us to deal with his corrupt wife, Lady Ingrid, and if possible, save his daughter Margitte from the clutches of evil.
Alas we could not. The daughter was her mother's daughter, corrupt through and through. We put them both down, as we did the chaos warrior and minotaur "guests." Ulfhednar was the chaos warrior's name. He turned out to be Ulfberth's son (adopted as it turned out) and as mighty a warrior as any I've crossed blades with.
With that out of the way we had only to contend with the storm raging outside and the last of the Wittgenstein's, Kurt, hiding in the high tower. Kurt and his monstrous golem of patchwork flesh and lighting power. After that only a little housekeeping remained. A torturer and an ogre jailer we found in the dungeons along with a few prisoners. Peasants and villagers for the most part, and one Imperial Bailiff. I didn't release them immediately, the priest-killer still fresh in my mind.
While we were doing all the hard work, the outlaws had snuck inside the castle and were busy taking control of it. A few of them made it into the inner bailey where they promptly murdered Baron Ludvig. I killed them on the spot for murdering their own liege. Bastards. Though I guess the fact that he looked more like a bug than he did their Baron may have had something to do with it...
8 Ulriczeit
The siege
Guess who suddenly showed up with an army of goblins and beastmen outside the gates? Etelka bloody Hertzen. Hundreds of greenskins and horned beastman. And a monstrously big troll - I guess they really did have a troll guarding that cave...
Brokered a truce between Sigrid's outlaws and Doppler's remaining guards. Between us we had just enough to hold the gatehouse. Add the troll and Hertzen's sorcery and we were forced back and back, until we had the inner bailey at our back and no hope of victory.
That's when the gods intervened: the lump of warpstone that we were so desperately fighting to keep out of Hertzen's hands... it was gone, stolen, carried off. So I offered the sorceress a deal: the Red Crown was free to claim the stone (they didn't know it was gone) while we got Hertzen. She agreed. I guess cultists really are blinded by inhuman zeal. She protested wildly when she realized the truth and called on her foul "god" to intervene. Nothing happened: out compact was carefully worded and theer was no getting out of it. Ulfberth made the blood eagle and it was glorious!
We routed the remaining greenskins and beastmen. With their leader dead and their quest foiled they had no stomach for fighting.
Victory!!!
11 Ulrichzeit
I woke to snowy fields, a roaring fire, and Thesalva sitting by my side.
They tell me I have been out for three days, sleeping from dusk till dawn, only stirring to greet the sun.
The days I've spent by the window of my room (at the inn, the castle is not a fit place to recover) looking at things only I can see, mumbling to myself, hardly touching the food and drink they bring.
I remember nothing of that.
But I do remember other things: A trip to Nuln. Arriving at home. Ghost and daemons stalking me. Anhk dead in the ruins of Castle Wittgenstein.
They tell me I have dreamt it.
It all seemed so real, more real than my room at the inn and the village outside. If the dream is more real than the real world, what is real and what is not?
I should get going. There are things to do, places to be. Gold to be had and justice to be meted out.
I need schnapps and herring.
But first...
