Sunday, August 22, 2021

The Great Northern Wall

 


The Great Northern Wall is a seemingly endless series of mutually supporting strongpoints and shield walls that guard the northern reaches of Naggaroth. The fortifications cunningly use the rugged terrain to maximum effect, augmenting the already formidable natural obstacles. Countless tunnels and subterranean chambers are part of the defensive complex. Millions of slaves toil without rest to build the walls ever higher and the redoubts stronger. The Wall is manned by legions of elves, the fearless and ever-vigilant men and women of Malekith's great domain.

Should the Wall fall to Chaos, it will herald the end not only of Naggaroth but of Ulthuan and indeed the rest of the world. Without the Wall, the Darkness in the North will spill across all the lands and swallow up every living thing, from the greatest dragon to the tiniest gnat and staw of grass. All of Malekith's subjects know this and it is for this reason alone they serve with unflinching devolution and unbreakable zeal.

Thus it is in the "dark" elves of Naggaroth that the kingdoms of men owe thanks, not their petty mortal rulers and false idols...

Friday, July 2, 2021

From the Journal of one Wigmar Heck, pt 19 (Home, sweet home)

Hugg

29 Sommerzeit

After a night of song, dance - and too much strigany brew - I woke up earlier than I should have. I went into the woods to have a good piss and there he was, Hugg the goblin, Master Halmstad's servant, waiting for me in the misty morning woods.

The master was concerned, he said. We'd been gone a long time. Maybe we were lost and needed a guide to get back home? We were technically a bit lost but the strigany knew where we were and had promised to take us back home. But they had said weeks or more and Hugg said he knew a shortcut or two. 

And what a shortcut it was. Scarcely a day and we came over a ridge and saw the wizard's tower, just as we had left it.

We talked a bit about this and that. The prince. The stone. And more. I invited my good friend to the wedding but he declined, claiming not to care much for city life. I also got the impression he didn't want to meet Fräulein Nacht. He did, however, again promise to come and visit. I think Jürgen can do great things for my garden and my fields. 

Oh, and I gave him the stone. I had thought a lot about whether to keep it or not, but no. A baronet doesn't keep such gems. It would attract unwanted attention. From dwarfs and thieves and others. And besides, it's definitely magical. I don't need Ulfberths hairs to stand to know that. Just holding it, looking at it, is enough to know it's not a natural thing. Didn't know that dwarfs were magicians. I must ask Jürgen about that when he visits.

30 Sommerzeit

The next morning we set out for home. I cannot wait to see my lands and my darling wife again. I wonder how much work has been done. Hopefully a lot. But knowing how things work, I'll probably be disappointed. But no matter, I'll set things straight in no order.

Only a month left until the wedding. I wonder if I should send out invitations to special guests. Or is it too late? 

Thursday, June 24, 2021

From the Journal of one Wigmar Heck, pt 18 (Dwarfholds, princes, and giant gems)



24 Sommerzeit

There was an ork attack in the night but we heard them coming and had the advantage of a defensible position. We killed at least a dozen, maybe more. The rest retreated back along the narrow road, unwilling to give their lives for the greater glory of their warlord.

Having no particular desire to hang around and see if the works could find a way around our position, we moved along the cleft. There were signs of dwarven handcraft all around us, a bit of rough ground leveled, a stone wall here, an archway there. Most of it long since gone to ruin. Emma found a dead dwarf in a rusted mail shirt, equally long gone. Probably a runner by the looks of the scroll case (and a bag of gems, high in value but low in weight) he was carrying. Must have hidden on a ledge and never gotten down alive. The scroll was legible but in dwarven runes, which none of us can read.

In the early morning, we came out of the gorge and into the northern end of a mountain valley. We followed the hoof marks and came to a ledge by a waterfall - a waterfall where the river flowed out of a gap in the cliff face. One horse had fallen off the cliff into the pool below but other than that we could find no trace of the Prince's party. The horses had certainly not gone into the river nor into the cliff.

The hidden dwarf place

Finding the water level to fluctuate we sent in Ulfberth with a rope (he's the only one who can swim) during "low tide," then the rest of us used the guide rope to make our way upriver. It was a tight fit even during low water. Inside we found a small dwarf hold. More like an outpost or castle really.

Many were the mysteries contained within: A chamber sealed by magic we couldn't access (might have to come back). An undead dwarf that was nothing like the walking dead of the Reikswald - he spoke Reikspiel, warned us of danger, and was not aggressive in any way (in hindsight I think maybe he was a ghost, not one of the walking dead, that sensed our good intentions).

We also found a chamber of ancestral worship. Someone, beastmen perhaps, had moved a dragon's skull there (or maybe it was the dwarfs themselves?). Inside was quite the treasure. Gold, silver, gems, and more. Offered up to the Red God (whose name shall not defile these pages) by generations of beastmen. Note to self: that skull could be worth a fortune - a thousand or more gold - to a collector.

Speaking of beastmen: as we were leaving a group entered the outpost. There was a battle, a vicious one in the gloom. Those we did not kill threw themselves into the river and were swept away. Even beastmen fear certain death, it seems. I wonder what the Red God thinks of cowardice? 

We played some with the levers and chains and managed to raise a hitherto submerged bridge. The horse could now cross the wild waterfall and continue along the cliff face. Old horse tracks were clearly visible on the other side. We were back on track.

25 Sommerzeit

In the morning, we entered the nameless dwarf-hold. Long hours we spent in the dark with nothing but torches for company. An utter ruin it was, long since abandoned and bearing all the signs of a fortress fallen to storm. Had orks overrun the dwarf defenders long eons past? Seemed like it.

We picked up some odds and ends and brought them with us. No great treasures like we had found in the waterfall fort. Some old books; perhaps they will be worth something. In the great hall of the ancestors - which seemed a lot like a temple to me - we found a great statue clasping a warhammer. Something, a gem or ornament perhaps, had sat in a niche inside the head of the hammer. Gone, of course. Had Prince Hergard taken it? Or orks, long ago?

We exited the hold through a side entrance high on the mountainside. In the afternoon sun, we could make out a tower in the distance, near a snaking silvery river. So we settled down for another night under open skies. Seemed a better option than resting inside the tomb of the Kaer.

26 Sommerzeit

We followed a narrow, overgrown trail into the valley below. Riders had come this way. How many we couldn't quite tell. Ten, maybe be more, maybe less. Down in the valley, the trail split into two more or less equally-sized tracks. One band - our dead guys - had gone back north. The other band - presumably the group with the Prince - had continued south. So south it was (also the risk of orks seemed much less along the southern route).

We made it to the river without incident and crossed over to the tower. It wasn't too different from Jügren's tower, built perhaps by the same peoples, but appeared uninhabited save flocks of birds, ravens, crows, and other kinds. We passed it by and pressed on.

Later in the day we entered woodlands and were set upon by a minotaur. We put it down with steel and lead. Had it tried harder to kill us and spent less time trying to abduct Emma it might have been more of a threat.

Following the horse tracks, we were attacked by a trio of minotaurs. It could have gotten ugly, but the brutes charged across a wide-open plain and we cut them down with guns and bows. I've heard stories about the prowess of minotaurs, and their unnatural toughness, but they didn't seem so tough to me.

Within their lair, we found Prince von Tasseninck. Incredibly, he was still alive (his companions, not so much). A little worse for wear, but alive and sound of limb (he was a little unsettled, but rest and schnapps should bring him about).

We also found the missing gem from the dwarfhold - Karak Kulgan the Prince named it. A ruby, larger than any I've seen before, shaped like a heart by cunning dwarf hands. Worth a fortune, easily. Mine for the taking. Yet the hairs on Ulfberth's arms...standing up like the bristles on a pig. Something ain't right about that gem.

27 Sommerzeit

We left the valley behind and started climbing into the southern mountains. We don't know the way home but turning north again is no option at all: there be orks. We see them clearly now, many miles away, unaware of our location. Be we're not waiting for them to catch our scent!

28 Sommerzeit

On the 28th (or thereabouts, timekeeping isn't a priority in the mountains) we came down from the mountains and into hill lands. There we met a group of strigany (GM note: gypsies) who welcomed us into their came. They were extremely hospitable and friendly - could easily have slain us all and take our treasures - so I invited them to come to the von Liberungen lands. They said it was a long trip - weeks at the very least - but they would make the trek. Strange that, since we had only traveled for a few days. We spent the night with the strigany, blew off some steam, all of us. Even the Prince seemed to relax and after some of the goblin brew, he was ready to get back into the saddle, so to speak.

Wednesday, June 23, 2021

From the Journal of one Wigmar Heck, pt 17 (Grey lake, grey hills, grey mountains)

 


19 Sommerzeit

I traveled back home to organize an expedition into the Grey Mountains. The plan is thus: find Emmaretta then have her follow the tracks of the horse into the wilds. Locate the Prince, rescue him if needed, and bring him back to civilization. He'll certainly accept an invitation to my marriage if I'm the one to free him from work captivity.

20 Sommerzeit

I set out into the hills accompanied by Thesalva and Ulfberth - Emmaretta was ranging and we had to do without her services. Luckily she found us on the first day. Turned out she had been tracking the same horse but going in the opposite direction.

Guided by Emma we skirted the Ortschlamm and climbed into the hills. We crested a ridge in the afternoon and looked into a verdant valley nestled between the hills. A lone tower rose from among the great trees of the valley below. I decided to have a look in the morning. Thesalva gave me a lot of elvish lessons - to spite  Emma, no more, no less.

21 Sommerzeit

We went into the valley, where we followed an old and overgrown road towards the tower. I've never seen so many plants and trees and flowers in one place. Everything so verdant, so lush. Colorful birds everywhere. Seemed unnatural to me. Hairs on Ulfberth's arms bristling. Definitely unnatural. 

The lonely tower was less imposing. Six or seven stories, with a round building ringing the base, a heavy gate, and battlements on top. Other buildings scattered about, overgrown with weeds and nearly invisible between the trees.

Seemed uninhabited at first, but then appeared a goblin with a bad leg. Hogg, his name was, and he addressed us in guttural, but comprehensible Reikspiel. The place being what it was I didn't slay him outright. He was no threat and somehow seemed to belong in this strange place.

Long story short: we met the wizard of the tower, Jürgen Halmstad, an Averlander, and got invited to dinner. Emma brought down a deer and we had venison and lemon tarts and more. Hogg is quite the accomplished chef. Better than many halflings I'd wager. We told stories and I was the winner. I was awarded an old dwarven mug of pure silver. Perfect for Hogg's goblin brew. Potent stuff that.

22 Sommerzeit

Jürgen walked us into the mountains along the path the horse had taken and bade us good luck. It was a good path he'd shown us: only half a day's walk, a little more, and we were already high and deep in the Grey Mountains.

We came across the corpse of the legless rider. Orks had caught him and cut him down but somehow his horse had managed to flee. We couldn't quite figure out what had happened. How had the orks caught him? Why that particular spot? Not that it matters.

We pressed on. Found more signs of struggle my a mountain lake. A horse in the water, another man, drowned and arrowed both, Ulfberth pulled out of the lake. Signs of riders scattering to the four winds. We settled in for the night, determined to go the way the riders had come in the morning.

23 Sommerzeit

There be orks. Literally. We came across some scouts manning an observation post. Little orks or maybe goblins - I find it hard to tell the difference. We sent them back to the earth. Later in the day, we sheltered in an old dwarven watch post at the crest of a ridge. A score or so work boys were headed straight for us so we made a little ambush in the reverse slope. It was a bit rough for a patch by we put the fear into them and half the warband ran away.

We rode on as fast as Emma could track. Made sense to put as much distance between us and the main work host (there are always more greenskins). We sheltered fort the night inside the mouth of a narrow crevasse. Only a single narrow path allowed access - and we'd be sure to keep watch all night. If orks came after us, we could hold them off indefinitely.

Sunday, June 20, 2021

Career: Noble

 


NOBLE

WS

BS

S

T

Ag

Int

WP

Fel

+15%

+10%

+5%

+5%

+10%

+10%

+10%

+15%

Skills: Charm, Command, Common Knowledge (the Empire), Consume Alcohol or Performer, Gamble or Gossip, Read/Write, Ride, Speak Language (Reikspiel)

Talents: Etiquette, Luck or Public Speaking, Savvy or Specialist Weapon (Fencing), Schemer or Specialist Weapon (Parrying)

Trappings: Rapier, Main Gauche, Noble’s Garb, Riding Horse with Saddle and Harness, 1d10 gc, Jewellery worth 6d10 gc

Career Entries: Squire, Steward

Career Exits: Courtier, Dilettante, Pistolier, Politician, Rogue, Squire, Student


Saturday, June 19, 2021

From the Journal of one Wigmar Heck, pt 16 (My hand is purple, thy crown is red)


1 Sommerzeit

I answered the summons of my liege, Graf Gregor, and headed for Übersreik. My lord introduced me to a tall, dark, and mysterious woman wearing a fabulous emerald cloak: Fräulein Emmanuelle Nacht. I'm not sure what to make of this Nacht. She's too tall for a woman. Probably a commoner - possibly a foreigner even - given her name. But she's also the Imperial envoy to Übersreik - and I suspect, an Altdorf-trained wizard. I must not be too quick to dismiss her. Commoners have their uses. Especially if they have great power and the ear of the Emperor. My liege treats her with great respect and so will I.

Fräulein Nacht - an unmarried woman to add insult to injury - was much less agreeable than my lord Gregor. She very nearly called me a liar and a cheat, then threatened me with consequences most dire if I did not give her names. So I did, for a price. A name for a name, so to speak.

I named Etelka Herzen, a sorceress (presumed) and cultist (guaranteed), down by Grissenwald near Nuln. I told Nacht about the letters to Franz Steinhäger of Bögenhafen, a known villain. We then made a gentleman's bet (you can't mistake Nacht for a man, very much a woman, but I swear she acts like she's got balls, not breasts): whoever got to Herzen first would get a gift from the loser. 

For that name, I got a name in return: I'm Wigmar von Liberungen, grandson and heir to Dagmar Liberung the Younger. The papers linking me to Kastor and Bögenhafen went into the fire. I'm me now, finally, with an Imperial seal of approval. Soon I'll be on the peer list, my lands expanded, an entire army at my command. The Age of Wigmar approaches. I jest, of course, but why stop now? Why indeed.

There was also the matter of Herr Liberung's grimoire. I gave that up too, and none too soon I might add. An evil book it is and Annika has been reading it (she can open it with ease now - she must have forgotten to tell me about it). Not understanding too much, but just a little can be damning enough. I saw the drawings, I know what happened in Bögenhafen. I don't want that filth in my own house. I can make my own luck, my own fortune.

One thing led to another and I had to name Annika. It felt like the right thing to do. Be honest, get everything into the open. A good call, I might add. Fräulein Nacht came out to the manor and had a chat with Annika and the matter was settled. Annika will go to Übersreik later this summer to train as a wizard's apprentice. Learn the high art at the feet of the Imperial envoy. Good thing I'm so perceptive when it comes to people.

Then Annika can teach the other two members of the coven (whom I didn't name - no point dragging more people into it). In time, Anna will have her license and so will Isolde, I'm sure of it. Speaking of my wife: she is pregnant. Great news. The first of many strong Liberungen lads.

Glorious summer

The next couple of weeks of summer passed much as the previous two. If anything I pushed myself harder and further. Some of what I have set into motion is starting to bear fruit. Brunda has brought several dwarfs. We've more peasants now and a few skilled laborers. Tools and materials have started arriving. The ranks of the Liberungen guard have swelled to twenty. We've hanged treasure-seekers and have an inn running. It's not much, but it has ale and cheap wenches so it counts. Emmaretta is scouting the hinterlands.

17 Sommerzeit

I was escorting Annika to Übersreik when we came across a riderless horse on my lands. We investigated the matter and found that the horse most likely had belonged to a - now-dead, his chopped-off leg was still in the stirrup - retainer of Prince Hergard von Tasseninck of Ostland (or is it Ostermark? I don't remember). The horse was in a bad shape. Looked like it had walked along through the wilds for at least a week. Poor creature. We had to put it down.

We made it into town, somewhat delayed and not much wiser. But it was a fine day in the company of a fine woman, so I couldn't complain. Ah yes, I nearly forgot. We met a strange friar at the gates, a man preaching the word of the sun god Ankh-Akh. The biggest fellow I ever saw short of an ogre. Ulfberth is positively puny in comparison. I met the man again later, being beaten by the city watch on a technicality. It always pays to have the biggest friend so I paid the guards to let him go and offered him a place in my household.

18 Sommerzeit

With Annika safely delivered to Nacht, I pondered what to do. Fortunately, before I could get bored, one of Gilda's little mice, Karl-Franz, brought me a piece of interesting information. There was a man in town, a tall one with dark eyes and a broken nose, discreetly looking for a Kastor Liberung who had a great deal of resemblance with myself. Let's call him... Otto Grau, for lack of a better name.

Naturally, I and Ankh-Akh went ahead and invited the man to my basement. We had a good long chat with this fellow. He knew me in the flesh you see. Or actually, he knew the real Kastor Liberung. For such a quick-witted fellow he sure took a while to realize I was not the man he thought I was. Got confirmation that Liberung was indeed a villain of the worst sort. He'd worked for the Purple Hand, some sort of cult, in Nuln, but had fled to Middenheim when the authorities started to suspect he was up to no good. That's where Kastor was holed up when the letter from Lock, Stock, and Barl reach him. And the rest is history as they say.

The Hand still thinks I'm Kastor and that I've run away with the fortune, rather than return to the fold. So they are, indeed, hunting me still. But I have a lead, a fellow up in Middenheim, a name that Otto gave up. If they are not careful, I'll be doing some hunting of my own. Oh, one more thing. There are more cults. Etelka isn't part of the Purple Hand, but the Red Crown. I guess Teugen, Steinhäger, Magirius, and the others were too. Same shit, different wrapping.

In the end, I handed Otto to Frälein Nacht. He got... difficult. Shouted foul names and began chanting gibberish like he was a sorcerer. It was either hand him over or bury him in the river, like my dear foster mother. Nacht was most grateful. Not enough to sleep with me, but she promised a white wedding in the cathedral of Sigmar, with a gown and a tiara for the lady wife, all paid for by the crown. And some vague assurances of tools and building materials for the Liberungen estate. They sure take these cults seriously. More so than the witch-hunters I've come across. I'm sure glad I didn't just get rid of dear Otto!

Speaking of marriage: it will be held at the end of summer. I will write my father-in-law and explain my position and invite the man and his household. To make sure he sees me for the great man I truly am: I will go into the mountains, to find Prince Tasseninck's lost expedition. With the true-born son of an Elector-Count as my best man, my status will be much improved.

Into the Grey Mountains!

Thursday, June 17, 2021

From the Journal of one Wigmar Heck, pt 15 (The land of the free)

 

15 Sigmarzeit

We located my townhouse in short order. It was...it had seen better days. Nothing that a big purse of gold and hard labor can't fix. I have the gold, two hundred crowns I gave to my wife and bade her set our house in order. The vagrants occupying my property provided the labor. It was that or go before the magistrate. Those who didn't manage to run away chose the former. I'm pretty sure they intended to flee during the night, so I had them locked in the basement. Work will set them free, so to speak. Not their usual lowlife shenanigans.

The evening I spent in the company of my liege, Graf Gregor. He was holding court of sorts in the part of the ducal compound reserved for the lord of Lady's Vale. It later turned out he's the lord of Widow's Vale, and this caused some confusion until it was revealed that the von Jungfreunds had all but abdicated and were hiding up in the mountains. So Graf Gregor, my liege, was graciously looking after their lands and their castle. With the Emperor's blessings, of course.

Lord Gregor was a most agreeable sort, much more so than his guards, and especially their Captain, Herr Jendrick. Yokels and ruffians the lot of them. The graf promised to look into my claim - my irrefutable claim I hasten to add - and get back to me shortly. A mere formality I was assured.

16 Sigmarzeit

Rode out to have a look at the Liberungen lands. Half a day's easy ride south of Übersreik on the road to Huperberg there is a fork in the road. Easy to miss as it's hardly more than an overgrown rut. Not much traffic. The land was suitable for farming but had lain fallow for years. A village, mostly abandoned, we found on the east bank of the Verfelfluss. Had a chat with their leader, if he can be called such. A farmer by the name of Hubert. Told him the good news: a new lord has come and all will be well.

The manor was less of a run than the townhouse and less of a run than the village, but thoroughly stripped of anything of value and showing the signs of years of neglect. The other buildings were in less fine shape and may require tearing down or at the very least some extensive redecoration. Old Liberung may have died only five years ago, but the rot set in long before that. But the walls were still standing and the roof (mostly) keeping the rains out, so there is that. A chest of gold and all will be in good order. I need my 20.000 gold from the inheritance and the 10.000 I'm owed in Bögenhafen. And my part of what Josef sells downriver.

17-33 Sigmarzeit

The rest of the month went by so fast! 

I hardly had time to sleep. I worked hard all day from around noonish well into the evening. So many things to plan, so many things to set in motion. A townhouse, a village, and a manor. I want it all done tomorrow. Tools and building materials. Supplies for the workers. Soldiers to be hired and equipped. Hubert coming into town to look for men and women with farming experience. Brunda came to have a look at the fief and reluctantly (what a sourpuss) agreed to go back home and bring some dwarf friends. Emmaretta installed herself at the manor and took to the hills. The evenings were filled with song and wine, the nights with all Wigmar's lovely women.

Strange how labor for one's own gain feels hardly like work at all. And when you are amply rewarded with women and wine every night, why then suddenly the dreamlands are less pleasant than the world of the waking.

My life has truly been blessed by Sigmar. Or Ranald maybe. Who knows. Blessed anyway.