Warhammer: Shadows of Empire - Fire, Smoke, Bow, & Axe

[Adrian Moss]

Mikhail and Nayobee

The grey clouds above kept promising rain as the two cloaked riders moved up the Imperial Road eastward along the banks of the Talabec River. The river was brown and swollen from rains from upstream downpours. It also occasionally had a body floating in it. Since Altdorf two days ago they had spotted five.

Vladimir cried out and came swooping down. The blonde wizard held out his arm andlet it perch. Vladimir was finishing off a sparrow he had taken on the wing. This was a reminder to the travelers that their own supplies were tight. They had maybe five days left with their rations if they were frugal. There had been no extra rations to be had from Altdorf for love or money.

Morning passed as did another abandoned ferry. The Imperial army had requisitioned all river craft along the lower Talabec to transport troops and supplies for the armies fighting in the north. That brought them to the river Delb and heading north. That meant finding an intact bridge and that meant the town of Untergard. That bridge had been still standing when they had both last past. Maybe it still stood. Maybe it had fallen to hostile forces. Nayobee especially remembered there was a strong Beastmen presence in the region.

At Untergard, they could turn east once more and continue on the way to Talabeheim. At Talabheim they could start over with a new assignment and a new place in the world. Still, they had to get there.

The approached Untergard … or what remained of it, with the sun speeding from its zenith. There was a sole militia man guarding the gate (there should have been two) and there was still the smell of smoke in the air. Some parts of the city had been burnt. Some bodies had burnt along with it.

The militia man with his spear and shield called out when they were ten yards away. Nayobee’s keen eyes could make out two crossbowman on the wall, one lad barely old enough to serve and one one-eyed oldster.

“Halt!” he squeaked. “What’s your business?”

“Travelers,” Mikhail explained. “I have papers. We are here to cross the bridge.”

Mikhail flourished them. It was doubtful the boy before him could read, but he might know the Sign of the Imperial School of Magi.

“Umm … the bridge is still standing, approach.”

The two riders did as they requested, noting they were now under the arch of the crossbowmen. The boy took the paper and looked at it. He leaned the spear against his shoulder and touched the seal.

“Umm … okay.” He handed the paper back. “You can go in – I mean, Proceed. Go to the Acherplatz and see the Captain.”

He stepped out of the way and looked at them as they passed. Once inside, the town looked truly sacked. Half the buildings on this side of the river looked damage and abandoned, or just plain burned. They could see the bridge still standing (the town wasn’t’ all that big and the road was straight) and people moving about. Spying a man with a halberd, they stopped him and asked for the Captain. He pointed them toward the local tavern, the Hopping Frog.

In front of the Hopping Frog, sat two rather dubious characters; one with a grey wolf skin pelt on his shoulders, a large hammer resting within arms reach, and the tabard of the White Wolf on his chest and the other, a dwarf, with two pistols in his belt and an battle axe at his side. They were sitting down on stools on either side of the door, backs against the wall, and drinking rather flat beer in their mugs. They were both somewhat familiar.

[Adrian Moss]

Wolfgang and Grombar

The battle had been hellish. Not only had Wolfgang been horribly wounded in his leg and thigh, but he had been infected with their poisons too. The last injustice had been the physician who had tried to cut off his leg ‘to save his life’. He had been too weak from blood loss to do anything but plead. Were in the world was there a place for a one-legged Cleric of the Wolf God?

The physician had relented, the leg had stayed on, and his fever had broken after several touch and go nights. Now he was on the mend. The army had left him alone, but the White Wolf had other business for him. A message from his mentor had come south with a message. He was to go to the city of Talabheim and fortify the Temple there. Too many of its priests had gone to the war and not returned, so he was to go there and see what could be done. All he had to do was heel up, which was just about what he had done.

Grombar had been healing up too. The rest of his small company had died here in the great battle of the bridge, with Grombar being grievously wounded before he fell amongst the defenders. Sheer tenacity had kept him alive. He healed and now waited for his battle companion to heal up as well. The dwarf was tired of the war, though not of fighting. Now he had confided in the priest that he wanted to fight only for himself.

The day had started out overcast and had progressed to a storm grey as the sun was slowly lost in the sky. The town was in desperate straights, but that did mean cheap beer as there were fewer people to drink it. It was warm enough that they had elected to sit outside and watch the people scurry about fixing their town. Grombar would make the occasional comment about the flimsiness of human construction, loud enough to be heard. When not pissing people off, he would pick at the axe wound on his face. It was a monstrous scar and reminded Wolfgang of his many wounds.

Wolfgang drank the flat beer and kept an eye out on the bridge. Sure the Chaos had left, but they could return at any time. The militia here was too worn out and too few. The last regiment was four days gone up the road to Middenheim. Strategically he didn’t like the situation, but what could be done? The regiments were so few – too few to guard this bridge – and the foe seemed limitless. Grumbling over that thought he trudged over to the sentry on the bridge to check out the situation. He talked to the boy they had there and made sure his shield was securely on the probably doomed child’s arm before trudging back. At least his leg only twinged occasionally now.

He had not so much as sat down again when two riders appeared in the Archplatz, the town’s central square. They road to the sentry who pointed them back in the tavern’s direction. As the cloaked riders approached, there was something familiar about them. The elf especially – a her, was pleasing on they eye but …

[Talos]

Mikhail's long blond and brown hair hung from beneath a wolf helm. It was something he'd made himself, along with most of what he wore. He had the look of a hermit, but for the enormous battle axe he wore over his back. He dismounted and with a slap the reigns flicked over the post by the water trough. Two solid long strides took him to the table where the man and the dwarf sat drinking. "I am loo-kink for Cap-i-tan. Do you know were to find?" Mikhail asked, his thick accent marking him as born and raised in Kislev.

[Nayobee]

The tall elven beauty next to Mikhail remained a step behind him her keen eyes observing everything with a detached coldness. It wasn't clear if she had a general disdain for the situation or simply didn't care.

Her 'companions' lack of mastery of his own tongue annoyed her but not enough to leave a lasting impression on her face - a face that was beautiful but almost frozen to a mask that was difficult to read.

The human Mikhail was addressing had a familiar quality to his face. Someone she might have met a few years ago. Raising an eyebrow she asked with just a barely rise of her voice "Wolfgang?"

[Rorx]

Wolfgang lowered his pint as the two approached and smiled slightly at the thick accent of the Kislevian, he was just about to point in to the interior of the Inn when the female elf spoke his name.

The years fell away, 5 years to be precise, he had last seen her turning to fire as they split up at the junction of a stream in the forests of the Middenlands with a group of beastmen chasing after them. Their units had fought alongside each other for a month or more off and on, but he had never found out if she survived or not. He had finally made it back to join up with a party of Ulric's warriors but his wounds in the process had removed him from the fight for weeks, by which time he had started his training in the Church of Ulric.

Wolfgang surged to his feet, brushing the Kislevian to one side as he saught to catch Nayobee in a bear hug, "Nayobee! You made it out alive! Ha! I didn't think a mere dozen Beastmen could have caught you."

He turns to the Dwarf sitting with him, "Grombar, beer for our friends. Oh, and tell the Captain we wish to see him."

As Grombar disappears into the bar behind them Wolfgang turns back to the two new arrivals, "Sit, sit. Now, Nayobee, what brings you and your companion to these blighted regions?"

[Adrian Moss]

His beer was flat anyway. Might as toss some of this swill into the Elf. Grombar got up and went inside.

"Three more beers, Inkeep," he bellowed, searching his purse for the pennies needed to pay for it. The heresy of what he was doing - buying brew for a pointy eared Elf - made him spit on the floor and curse. Nothing to do for it now. It was a sin to spill beer, even this swill, but he wouldn't like it.

"Captain, two travelers outside, looking for you."

Captain Schiller stood up from the table he was sitting at with two of the local burgers.

"Who is it? Anyone from the capital?"

Grombar shrugged,

"Don't know. They don't look like any of those wolf-skins."

It was an insulting way to refer to Middenlanders, but the dwarf didn't care. His people had bled and died for these swill-loving humans, so who cared about their short-lived feelings. The Captain glared at the dwarf, but headed for the door. The dwarf lead the way.

Noteably, he hadn't brought a beer for his drinking companion. He was a shit that way. He handed one to Mikhail first, then nearly (she was too swift) spilled one on the Nayobee. The last was, of course, for himself.

The Captain stood in the doorway, waiting for the dwarf to get out of his way. He was an old man, with gray hair going to white, with a white mustache. His eyes were clear though and his mail was well cared for. The old man studied the newcomers with bright, clear blue eyes, obviously looking for someone else and now waiting for them to state their purpose.

[Nayobee]

She had spent quite some time with humans in the past but she could never get used to their etiquette. The large man's 'bear hug' was met with a cold glare and she flatly replied, "Nice to meet you too, Wolfgang. I got barely warmed up by the beastmen it was disappointing in retrospect."

Nayobee spoke perfect Reikspiel without any accent and her voice lacked empathy except for the part of being disappointed about facing too little numbers of Beastmen.

She was about to sit down when the Dwarf almost spilled the beer over her armor and clothes. Her eyes set on the Dwarf with indifference and she put her beer on the table obviously not wanting it. "Some things sadly never change.", she stated not clear if she meant the Dwarf or the Beastmen-encounter.

Sitting down now she let her eyes wander through the Tavern answering without looking at Wolfgang, "I'm just a bow-for-hire, Wolfgang. I felt the desire to take this fight back to the hordes of chaos and while my people are more entangled with defending our homeland I prefer taking things into my own hands."

Nayobee met most expectations a stranger could have about elves. She was beautiful and graceful but also aloof and detached. In Nayobee's case a certain lust for war and murder seemed to underline everything she said when the topic of fighting the enemy arose. That seemed to get the most emotional response from her. Simple conversation wasn't her forté and it showed on her face which lacked a nice smile or maybe a smirk to loosen up small talk. She always put on a perfect mask somewhere between being polite and showing disdain. Maybe it was just her eyes...

[Rorx]

"Well you had more luck than I did then, one of them got a lucky shot into my leg and I had to face them in a rush."

He grins at Grombar's obvious offensiveness, "Yep, something don't change. So who's your friend, or is it employer if you are for hire now."

He gives the man from Kislev a careful study for clues to his occupation and standing as he poses his question to Nayobee.

[Nayobee]

"I would not say it was luck, Wolfgang.", her eyes finally set on him after she had gotten a basic impression of the Tavern and any possible threats.

"Mikhail is not my employer. We've spent some time hunting Beastmen about two years ago. I'm with him because I don't have anything better to do. Having someone around you can trust is a rare luxury these dark days.", her voice barely changed at the end of the sentence but enough to hear she was genuine about that.

"I think I hear the Captain at the door.", she didn't even turn or showed any sign of concern but there the Captain stood and was waiting. Nayobee looked at her companion expecting him to introduce himself. She was just here to help.

[Talos]

Mikhail sweapt back his worlf helm revealing long hair held back from his face by a pair of small braids that met in the back forming a natural headband. His haid was the color of wheat in the early autumn and combined with his lightly bronzed skin to create an slightly monotoone complextion. Only his eyes, rings of bright emerald green, offered any contrast. His face was wide with a hawklike nose and a strong square jaw. He smiled at Wolfgang, showing bright white teeth, "You have forgotten your comrade so quickly? I tink mayhap I should have let that beast take von more bite from your behind before I cleaved it's head."

[Adrian Moss]

The aged warrior at the door clears his voice.

"I'm Captain Schiller, commander of the forces in Untergard. Why have you asked to see me? Or, why has this," he spits as if tasting something bitter, "Dwarf said you wished to see me?"

As he spoke, a mist began falling from the heavens and the skies darkened. Not a good sign for those seeking to travel by road.

[Talos]

Mikhail nodded to Wolfgang in apology and turned to the captain. "We are here to cross the bridge. Your comrade sentry told us to speak vit you. I am Mikhail Petrovich, and my comrade in arms Nayobee Firandiel of the Elves." Mikhail's accent was nearly gone at this point and his grammer was markedly better. It was an old habit of his, people tended to think less of you when you spoke poorly, and those who underestimated were easier to defeat or manipulate.

[Adrian Moss]

"Hmmm ... I was hoping you were reinforcements from Altdorf. We are expecting some kind of aid from Middenheim in the morning."

The Captain seems to ponder something. His hand rubs agains his bristly skind on his chin. The man needs a shave. The whiteness of his beard is showing through.

"Would you stay until morning? I can promise you free room and board. We are poor here. I can't offer you a standard wage."

[Talos]

Mikhail looks to the sky, at the impending rain. "Rain coming. I think we can come to an agreement comrade. But first, what do you need reinforcing against?"

[Nayobee]

Nayobee raised an eyebrow and looked at Mikhail for a brief moment before answering to the Captain. "I would be willing to take your offer Captain Schiller. What foes are you expecting and are there any scouts on the lookout on the perimeter? I suppose not giving the abysmal condition of this place."

She was slowly standing up taking her place again a half step behind Mikhail, her face the same mask of disdain or indifference as before.

[Adrian Moss]

"Hrumpf. What don't we need reinforcing against. Until the walls get rebuilt and we get a gate over the west side of the bridge, we will be vulnerable."

He looks at the Elf,

"Our scout is overdue and I have need to be concerned. Hans is a fine woodsman, but he's not been in the wars. If something has eaten him, I'm not sure what we'll do. All the other people here are peasants or townsfolk - not so much as woodcutter amongs them."

The rain starts getting worse. Grombar mutters something how it makes the beer better.

"Why dont' you come inside? Have either of you seen much action?"

The Captain steps aside so the others can come in. Keen eyes can spot across the platz the sentry at the bridge moves over to a small structure near the bridge and take shelter. It is unlikely that he has a good view of his charge.

[Nayobee]

"Hans.", she repeated the name with suppressed disgust. Human's had such a poor sense for names.

"How long is he overdue? Nightfall will be in about three hours. I could cover roughly 12 miles on the lookout for him and be back before darkness.", Nayobee stated in a matter of fact like tone.

"Did he carry something important with him that should be retrieved?", the Elven woman seemed to be eager to get into action an unusual trait for her race.

[Adrian Moss]

The Captain looks a little put back by the Elf's intensity.

"Hrrmmmm ... he has been gone for a week. We expected him back three days ago. He went across the briged to the eastern woods. We were looking for any survivors how had taken to the deep woods to survive. He was to bring them back to town."

"I don't like being blind, but I don't know were to tell you to go. Three hours, eh? Hrrrmmmm ... we discussed him going norht by norht-east, roughly along the river line, but deeper in the woods."

"I'm afraid it would be a waste of your time Elf. Tossing you in the woods with the night coming on seems like waste of a life."

Clearly the Captain has no idea how capable Nayobee is, or any Ghost Strider, in the Woods. Nayobee knows though that on a night like this, with vision down to only a few yards, things would be rough. With the man being gone nearly a week, the chance of picking up his trail would be nearly impossible (Very Hard -30%). The rain would't help.

The problem with humans is they tend to assume that anyone who walks out into the wilderness and comes back is qualified to be a scout. To Nayobee it is like feeding candy to the Beastmen.

[Nayobee]

"I decide what is waste of my time Captain Schiller. Your concern is acknowledged. I will be back before nightfall. If I shan't find your scout I can at least give you a report on the eastern woods. I doubt there will be any survivors, though.", Nayobee's tone remained calm and slightly detached. If she did care for any survivors it didn't show.

She briefly checked her equipment and put on her hood to protect her from the rain. Giving the men a final look she nodded at her companions waiting for the unlikely event that they had anything to add to her assessment.

[Adrian Moss]

"The Elf's leaving," burps the Dwarf. "Must mean we are about to be attacked."

He doesn't bother looking at Nayobee. Instead he puts his Axe on the table he's sitting at and proceeds to start putting powder and ball to one of his two pistols.

He seems immune to his impact on the world, but Wolfgang knows from experience that this is just his way of coping. He insults everybody in some manner and is about as pleasant to be around as over-ripe turnip pie. He's handy to have in a fight though.

[Rorx]

"May Ulric grant you good hunting this evening Nayobee," Wolfgang says with a grin, "and a safe return. I'll see if I can find a decent drink for you when you get back."

With that he turns to go back into the bar, "Grombar, I owe you for my friends drink, what'll you have?"

[Nayobee]

Nayobee gave the Dwarf just a brief look and barely raised an eyebrow at his remark. "I suppose that is what you call witty, short legs."

Meeting Wolfgangs eyes she acknowledged his blessings and even smiled for a split second before she darted into the wilderness heading east.

Once she covered a good part of the area she started to look out for any secret signs or marks the other scout may have left. She didn't expect to find anything worth following in these conditions but who knew. Maybe Khaine smiled favorably on her tonight and would grant her some victims to sacrifice in his name.

Click to reveal..

Follow Trail at -30% because of heavy rain. (1d100=76) roll failed

The ground had softened to an indistinguishable mud making any attempt to find tracks to follow almost futile. Nayobee kept on the run - if she didn't find Hans, there was still a chance she might find the enemy somewhere in these woods and with some luck her bow might strike one down... or a dozen.

[Adrian Moss]

"Nothing here," he grumbles. "The beer tastes like water and the water tastes like piss."

The barkeep is the former-owners wife. Wolfgang knows that her husband and son both died in the fighting and her daughters were taken by the Green Pox a decade back. She doesn't acknowledge the insult to her establishment. She barely acknowledges anything at all, but tends bar and wipes at unseen spots counter.

When Wolfgang comes over, she stops wiping and gives him that vacant stare he is all to familiar with.

***************************

Nayobee moves north at a steady gate, but sees not sign of the man, alone, one week gone. No surprise really, because had she found something it would mean the man was a total clod and most assuredly in some Beastmen's belly by now.

Darkness is falling quicky by the time the Ghost Strider choses to turn around. The way back seems to stand against her now, as if the woods are holding her back. Nayobee knows this is a trick of the gathering night and the darkness that comes with it. She knows were the town is and how far she has yet to travel.

[Rorx]

In a gentle, respectful voice Wolfgang address the owner "Good evening Frauhlein, 4 more beers please. I don't suppose you have anything else to drink that survived the recent events?"

Click to reveal..

Attempt a Charm roll I suppose?

(22:04:29) ChatBot: (Wolfgang) rolls 1d100 and gets 15.

Charm = 64 plus Streetwise if applicable?

[Adrian Moss]

Her eyes gain a temporary light and she gives an ephemeral smile to the priest.

"I think we have some brandy in the back, sir."

She wanders back into the rear room and rummages around for about five minutes. She returns with a rather average brand of brandy.

"Here you go, sir. One crown."

She retains a somewhat dream-like quality about her, as if she is looking through him at something eles. At least she is smiling.

Meanwhile, as the barkeep goes into the back, the Captain looks at the Wizard and Dwarf. He addresses the Wizard,'

"Stay here the night. Come to the central platz if the alarm is sounded. I'll be at the main warehouse for the night, if you need anything. I sleep lightly."

Looking to the armed older man sitting by the fire, the Captain motions,

"Come on. Time to make our rounds."

The other old man rises and hefts his spear with creaking joints.

"Okay Captain," the man says then sneezes.

"If there is nothing else?"

If no one has anything else for the Captian to address, he departs into the rainy evening.

As darkness falls, Nayobee hasn't returned.

[Rorx]

Wolfgang turns as the Captain makes to leave, "I will make my rounds later Captain. May Ulric lend you strength until we meet again."

When the barkeep returns, he addresses her as before, "Thank you," he pays her without haggling and indeed slips her an extra silver, "Now what fare might you have available for myself, the foul-mouthed short one, and the weary travellers this fine evening?"

[OOC - yes he knows it's raining or will be soon, he's just being friendly and charming, she's had a hard life recently with no sign of improving much.]

[Adrian Moss]

"Blackened Chicken and Onion soup," she says with a hint of will coming through the listlessness. "The chicken is a bit tough, but the soup is good. My ..." she sobs suddenly "... son ... loved it."

She sobs once more and stops.

"Will there be four for dinner?"

Wolfgang is pretty sure she is counting in the elf, and not herself. The woman is smart, but broken. Her black hair, turning slowly to gray, is pulled up behind her head. Her outfit is a gray, full-length dress with a stained apron. She even wears a silver locket around her neck with the stamp of the White Wolf on it.

[Rorx]

Wolf nods and waits for her to compose herself, "I'm sure he did, and it will be more than good enough for the likes of us Sister. Yes, it will be four, I've worked with the elf before, years ago. But it would probably be best to serve hers when she returns, we wouldn't want to make her grumpier would we?" He ends with a smile.

After paying for the meals, with an extra silver again, he says with another smile, "After all Sister, wolves run in packs. May the Lord of Wolves guide you in these dark times."

He then carries the drinks over to whatever table the Dwarf and presumably Mikhail are at.

"So Mikhail, have you been travelling with Nayobee long?"

[Talos]

Mikhail takes a sip of the beer and winces visibly at the taste. "Wow this really is swill isn't it?" The comment earns him a quarter of a smile from the dwarf and Mikhail nods to Wolfgang, "Perhaps three cycles of the moon. Feels like thrice that comrade, between you and me!" He laughs a hearty deep laugh but stands up shortly and walks to the counter. "Ma'am, if you would allow it I would enchant your beer into something of a higher quality." She nods and indicates the large keg standing behind the bar. Mikhail lays his hand on the keg and whispers for a few moments, it sounds like a breeze through the summer boughs.

When he is done he grabs three fresh mugs and pours a deep amber liquid from the keg and pays for them. Returning to the table he sets down the drinks and says, "Comrade, please see if my brew can enliven your spirits some. I have known many good dwarfs and hate to see your people in such low spirits."

Click to reveal..

Rolling 2 magic dice against a Target of 4

(08:30:28) ChatBot: (Mikhail) rolls 2d10 and gets 2,3.

Result = 5 = pass

[Rorx]

Wolfgang smiles and shrugs his agreement of Mikhails assessment of the beer, "It is all they have after the recent conflict here."

He grins at Mikhails quip about Nayobee, "Yes, Nayobee is as welcoming and cheerful a soul as many a Dwarf I've met."

When Mikhail proposes enchanting the beer Wolf nods to the barkeep, but focuses his attention on trying to determine which branch of magic Mikhail draws upon.

Click to reveal..

Magic Sense roll,

(12:47:08) ChatBot: (Wolfgang) rolls 1d100 and gets 29.

INT = 43, so made if penalty is only -10?

Wolfgang drinks the newly enchanted brew appreciatively, "So what brings a Mage and an Elf so far from civilisation? Although in Nayobee's case it's likely to be the chance to kill something."

[Nayobee]

The rain had turned into a tide and had soaked her armour and clothes to her bones. Nayobee was in a foul mood and needed a warm place to settle down again. No sign of Hans or any Beastmen to the east – but given the conditions they might have hidden in the next bush and she wouldn’t have noticed it. On the other hand it meant they had no clue about her looking around either.

Nayobee entered the tavern and cursed under her breath. She stomped towards the fire and removed her cloak and wrenched it a few times to remove as much water as possible from it. Her long blonde hair that she had kept in a complicated braid dangled down to her waist dripping water, too. The Elven Ghost Rider was wet to her bones and she didn’t seem to like it and it showed on her face. Her disdain for the place had turned into something akin to hatred.

Her glare which was more like a gaze fell on the men at the table and she grumbled, “One beer and whatever you got that passes as a warm meal in this forsaken place.”, she was removing her boots as she spoke and placed them carefully near the fire. After she had taken a seat she started to wrench the water out of her braid. All in all she left a pool of water where she was but she didn’t seem to care much about that. “One wrong word Dwarf and you can be my guest, I’m in no mood to tolerate your foul tongue.”

[Rorx]

Wolf is sympathetic to the conditions the weather brought to Nayobee, but expects nothing but insults in return, after all it is Nayobee, "I assume that given the weather you were unsuccessful in the short time you had available? Would you prefer some of you companions enchanted beer, which is very good, or some Brandy? Food has already been ordered for us all."

He turns and waves to the barkeep to start bringing the food as soon as it is ready, before turning back to the table.

[Adrian Moss]

"Grrr ..." was all Grombar said. Whatever was on his mind, he was smart enough not to speak it. Instead he pulls out a clay pipe from his kit and lights up. Between swigs he drinks his frothy beer. After about an icy minute, Grombar walks over to the fire and sticks a poker in. He stirs up the embers, leaves the iron in, and puts two more logs on the blaze. He then walks back to his table.

For the two humans, the reaction is probably a bit different. the Elf is beautiful and the armor sticks to her like body paint. It is enough to make a hard core Slaanesh worshiper weep. (How you react is your business.)

The barkeep comes around from the kitchen struggling with a large soup cauldron. It has a laddle in it and it swishes around when she puts it down at the table closest to the fire. Looking over the cauldron,

"Thank you ... for going out ... for Herr Baumer."

She remains somewhat slack-faced and wanders back to the bar. There she retrieves four wooden bowls and wooden spoons. She places these dreamily on the table.

"Dinner is served," she says in a sad voice. He pain is somewhat abated, but the well of her misery is deep.

She then wanders back into the kitchen to finish preparing the chicken.

The Dwarf finishes off his beer, goes to refill his (and looking at the Wizard like his some sort of festive spirit) and gets another. Gromabar stroll over to the table, places his beer down and takes the other one to the fire. He takes out the hot poker and stabs it into the beer with a firey rasp of steam. He hands the beer to Nayobee like he's handing his arm over to be eaten by a troll.

"Here. It warms the bones."

[Nayobee]

Nayobee watched the Dwarf carefully, ready to jump right into his face with her Dagger ready to cut his throat. She even wished he did that favour to her, the day would’ve had something worthwhile then. Instead of giving her a witty remark he actually just mumbled and came back with a warm beer after some shuffling at the fire.

Quote:

He hands the beer to Nayobee like he's handing his arm over to be eaten by a troll.

"Here. It warms the bones."

She takes the beer and slowly nods at the Dwarf. <Thank you>, she quietly answers in perfect Khazalid – well as perfect as it could get being not a Dwarf.

She carefully sipped the beer savouring its taste and the warm quality it now had thanks to Grombar. She had to admit, it did warm her bones but she would be damned to show him how grateful she was for his gesture. Instead she put it down on the table and did her best to hide it but her body betrayed her. A shiver went down her spine and she had to physically shake it off to regain her composure. She wished she had had better self control in that moment.

Trying to overplay that moment she reached for the bowl while she reported, “The rain has washed away all tracks there may have been. The Human scout could have left some other marks that would have endured the weather but either he did not know or did not think about it. I suppose it was the latter considering the short-mindedness of most humans.”, Nayobee’s mask was perfectly back when she finished her sentence and she slowly took a spoonful of the soup.

[Talos]

Mikhail watches the the two non-humans for a while as he silently drinks his beer. Finally he leans over to Wolfgang, "And they call us uncivilized." He winks and smiles mirthfully as he downs the last of that mug and starts on a fresh one.

[Nayobee]

Nayobee finished her soup and the stiffness in her joints slowly faded. She took another long sip of her beer and asked the men without looking to them, "I suppose nothing of importance happened here during my absence? I wonder why the Beastmen are raiding this particular area unless they are planning a larger scale attack and need to cross the Delb. In that case Middenheim and Altdorf should be informed.", she was slowly removing the bands and ribbons on her braid and looked back to the men once she was done with her braid and let her hair flow free over her shoulders.

"Are we going to stay for longer, Mikhail?", there was a hint of anticipation in her voice. The prospect of getting into a warzone seemed to lift her spirits.

[Talos]

Mikhail shrugged his shoulders in a non-committal gesture. "Talabheim. It can wait if these people need us. If not, then we go. The root may grow through the rock as easily as it grows around it. Sometimes the path to ones end requires trial along the way."

[Nayobee]

"I take that as a 'yes', Mikhail.", she said and smiled for the first time that evening.

The elven Ghost Rider visibly eased in prospect to getting back into the fight and ordered a second beer. Her demeanor was unsettling to those not accustomed to her.

[Rorx]

Wolfgang nods to the sentiments expressed around the table, he was glad of Mikhail's and had expected Nayobee's, "I am due to go to Talabheim as well, and I expect for similar reasons as your Mikhail, but I believe we would be well served to wait for a few days to see if the expected reinforcments from Altdorf arrive."

With that he applies himself to the soup while he checks for the response to his words.

[Talos]

Mikhail simply shrugs once more as he eats his own dinner. After a while he replies, "One cannot expect to bury an apple in spring and yield a crop for Harvest."