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


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"North is as good as East to me," grunts the Dwarf, "but that kid Wolfgang got a message a few days back that says different. East it is."

He sips his beer then downs it. He gets up to get another, tossing a few pennies on the bar.

"What I do know is that if this weather doesn't let up, we aren't going anywhere. Bad for the powder and bad for bow work. I prefer softing up my hellspawn before I finish them with my axe. Letting a Beastie come at me all fresh-like, in their numbers, don't feel right to me."

He came back and sat down.

"I'm not one of your muddleheaded wolf-farts, or crazed Sigmarite Meat-beaters who want to get all cozy with their enemies, frothing at the mouth. I got a life I still want to be living."

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Mikhail nods at the dwarf's words. "The trees, they do not like to see me carrying an axe, and I do not like to use it. Anastasia likes the taste of blood however. I find I do well to balance her needs with my own."

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"I will leave again and scout the area once the weather has cleared up.", she suddenly interrupted her sentence and put a more pensative face on.

"Unless the rain is not of any natural source - which would mean that an attack is imminent.", she quickly jumped back on her feet and went to the fireplace to put on her boots. She seemed determined to be prepare for battle.

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"Ha! You are quite correct my friend, especially if there are scrumpers about! So perhaps we shall travel together on to Talabheim when the time comes?"

After the meal Wolfgang will push himself away from the table and take up his hammer and get a lantern from behind the bar.

"I tend to take a stroll around the town to make sure all is in order before I turn in for the night, I shouldn't be long."

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The lady had brought the chicken in and pulled away the plates when you are done. The chicken was tasty, if a bit tough, but spiced with peppers. It served with potatos and beans, which helped fill the bellies of our heroes.

The dinner taken away, and Wolfgang having made his pronouncement, Grombar gets up, finishes his beer and says,

"I'll get a cloak. I don't trust these humans to keep an eye open - too many winters, or too few."

He stomps upstairs and comes back down with two cloak and a leather bedroll. He sticks his pistols in the bedroll and slings it over his shoulder. The coal gray cloack sweeps over him, he puts on his helmet, and the hood comes up over it.

"Ready Wolfgang," he pronounces. "Try not to fall down, or everyone will know you for the pig farmer you were."

Wolfgang takes a wick to the fire then lights his lantern. Together, man and dwarf, they go into the cold, wet, and very dark night.

Inside, the inkeeper comes out of the storage area with a pile of blankets and two straw pillows. She takes these upstairs and after a bit, she comes back down. She goes by and puts a screan in front of the fireplace and in a quiet voice says,

"Your beds are ready. I put a screen up for the lady. I am off to bed. If you want anything, knock loudly on the store room door."

The widow turns and leaves the Wizard and the Elf to the fire and the night. Mikhail immediate takes a liking to the keg he hs 'freshened' and proceeds to empty it. Nayobee drives off somewhat, but the leather dries slowly. She needs to get out of her armor.

Upstairs she finds the roof to be low, and there to be only one, long room. Half way down a blanket has been draped across some string to provide some barrier. Two of the beds look lived in. while she can see one other has a fresh blanket on it. She assumes a blanketed bed lies beyond the partion. Light is provided by a lone lantern hanging in the middle of the room. There is a window at the front end of the chamber.

Moving beyond the partion, the Ghost Stider strips out of her gear and proceeds to put on some dry clothing from her kit. No one disturbs her. She lays out her armor and clothes so they can dry. After that, she takes her bow and sword and pulls one of the unused beds by the window and takes watch.

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(Done with Rorx in IC chat)

Walking around to the bride post (unguarded) Wolfgang sees movement across the river near the other side of the bridge.

He goes and wakes up the guy meant to be guarding the bridge, if there is one. He is hiding at the shrine to sigmar.

Wolfgang glares, buth e is awake though.

"Boy, is the Priest here? If so wake him, then go to the Captain and bring him to the bridge."

The boy responds with an affirmative nodding of his head. At least the priest wasn't out visiting parishoners.

"Go on then boy!"

Wolfgang returns to the door to watch towards were he saw the movement. The militia man runs inside the shelter and bangs on the door. He whispers the Fathers name. After about 30 seconds, the door opens.

After trying to see if he can spot movement, Wolfgang sees nothing throught he downpour. he could swear you saw something by the old Toll house across the bridge though.

"Wolf, I don't see anything in this rain," grumbles the door. "We going to kick down some doors and look around?"

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(Done in IC chat)

"I thought I saw something over by the Toll house. I'll head that way, keep an eye on me, or come along it's up to you."

Wolf peers into the darkness then attempts to sneak off in that direction, keeping to the shadows of the remaining buildings and wrecks of the town.

"Pistols ... in this downpour? What a dunderhead," Grombar gripes as he splashes along side the War-Priest.

"Your choice of weapon is your own problem, I never mentioned it."

Wolfgang takes some comfort that the rain is probably dampening his enemies perceptions as they are dooming his efforts. They cross the bridge without incident, the Toll House just yards away, or what's left of it. He hears nothing but the rain falling down.

Grombar reaches out slowly with his shield arm and bumps Wolfgang. "I sees something," he whispers. He points at it with his axe.

Wolfgang looks at where he is pointing.

"I can't see it, so you better lead us after it."

Grombar leads Wolfgang around to the front (eastern face) of the Toll House. The door is gone and he slides in, kicing a board over. He stands still. Nothing moves. He begins stalking into the house, moving toward one of the western (river facing) rooms. He stops at the door. "Inside, on the right - far wall." It occurs to Wolfgang they have no idea of what, or in what number, they are facing. Grombar shrugs to Wolf, motions for him to go first, then shrugs again.

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(Posted from IC chat)

Wolf sneaked into the room panther-like. When he had a count of the - four humanoids huddled on the ground a a fifth on the ruin of the second level holding a musket.

"Alright you!" Wolf's brass voice rang out. "No sudden moves. Stand up and come with us."

Grombar cringed. They were only humans. Slaughter them and rob the corpse.

The five figures rose up and turned to face. They were mutants! One was beastial, with horns and thick furs. Another had a pig's snout, while the third had three eyes and the fourth had tentacles for arms. They hissed at the humans. The fifth mutant had a crow's head and he started to aim his musket at the Ulrican Priest.

Wolfgang leaped to the attack, going for the Bestial One. The creature brought up his club to parry Wolf's first blow, but staggered under his follow through.

A shot rang out, but the shot passed inches above Grombar's head. The Dwarf charged in, shouting a warcry in Khazalid.

His blow fell short, and the mutants charged. Wolfgang easily handled his foes, dodging back as they came on. Their timid blows against Grombar were off their mark.

The Priest swong his massive hammer, Stone Heart, around to gain some space. He struck at the Beast again, but the creature blocked his hammer haft. The Crow started running along the edge of the second floor, exiting the fight. Grombar slashed deep into the chest of the tentacled mutant, killing in in an ichor of gore. The mutants returning efforts failed against their opponents superior skill.

The fight dragged on as all five surviving combatants struggled to find their footing in the dark, rainy ruin. A wrathful strike by Wolf shatterd the breast of the Beast, felling it, Grombar drove his enemy into a corner, but failed to finish it off. Fear was gripping the heart of the mutants.

The fight was almost over. With a might cry for Ulric to witness his fury, Wolfgang brought his hammer down on PigSnout's head. The skull smashed like a melon and brains shot out his ears. Grombar's attack was less glamourous, but as final.

"The Crow," Wolfgang cried out, looking around.

"This way," responded Grombar loudly. His little legs pumped furiously once more as he took off after the Mutant beast. They chased it through the eastern side of the city, slowly gaining. All the time, Wolf chanted a prayer for Ulric to grant him speed. Once more he lost sight, but the dwarf's vision remained true.

"We are gaining on the Villian," Grombar panted.

Wolf pushed his speed even faster, knowing his prayer could not last much longer. The creature knew this too. In a desperate effort, it ducked into a ruined warehouse. The two heroes were quick on his heels.

Grombar lost track of the Crow, but the Priest of Ulric's eyes were keener. He spotted the things hiding place and snuck up on it. He jumped over the few fallen timbers that were the creatures shelter, smashing down with the haft of his hammer. Crow rolled out of the way. Grombar, switched out his axe for a whip and lashed out, but failed to entap it.

Crow attempted to stand and gains space, but Wolfgang was on him. Crow dodged another blow, but the whip wrapped its leg. Crow stumbled and fell. As he attempted to free himself, the hammer came down and the Crow's lights went out.

"Quickly, bind it's hands!" Wolfgang commanded. Grombar replied, binding it with his whip. Wolfgang searched it taking is long knife, musket, and ammuntion.

Frog-marching it back to the Toll House was anti-climatic. They gathered up the gear of the fallen mutants, finding only poorly maintained weapons ... and no food. Crow had two days, but his followers had none.

By the time they crossed the bridge, the Captain was out there with a lantern and two of his guards. Father Dietrich was there in his armor and with his hammer.

"Here you go. We found five mutants across the river - killed four and brought this one back to answer question. I checked him for disease, but found none."

The Crow glared at all the people around him, while the priest of Sigmar made a prayer that the two warriors would be okay and disease free.

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An alarm had been raised. Nayobee had seen the Priest and the dwarf running over the bridge and dissappear into the rain. By the time she was ready to go out, several humans had gathered at the warehouse across the way. She could make out the Captain with two of his militia and another armed man standing by the bridge.

Now, as she stood there shivering in her still-damp armor, she could either wake the slumbering Mikhail, or go out and see what the fuss was about, or she could do nothing. What would she do?

Mikhail, in his light slumber, he dreamed that the winds of shadowy darkness were moving through the wood's eves, and fire ... fire approaching the town. His vision faded as the the shadows left the woods, but the sense of dread remained.

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She had known something was up and she cursed herself for not trusting her instincts. Nayobee consider not waking Mikhail up but opted against it. He was after all a Jade Wizard and she respected his abilities.

“Mikhail, wake up – something is up.”

Nayobee didn’t wait for him to actually wake up and donned her cloak on her way out of the Tavern. It would’ve been better if she had stayed up instead of trying to get her clothes and armour dry. This had better be worth her attention. She joined the gathering of men and just glared at the Captain without saying anything.

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After dropping the Crow headed mutant with the Captain and Priest of Sigmar to interrogate Wolfgang heads over to the Inn to rouse Nayobee and Mikhail. He needn't have bothered as he spots Nayobee leaving the Inn as he approachs, he waits for her to reach him, then turns and walks with her towards the gathered men.

"During my walk around I thought I spotted something over the bridge. Grombar and I went to investigate as it was by no means certain that anything was there, but in the end surprised a group of five mutants. After dealing with the others we ran down their leader and the Captain is attempting t gathering information from it now."

With a sigh he continues, "Sorry I didn't summon you, but it was uncertain to begin with, and then we were in the thick of it. However, you can cheer up, their presence here might indicate another attack is immenient."

On arriving at the group Wolfgang will grab the two militia men and send them off to alert and join the watch at both the gate and the bridge.

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Nayobee barely nodded at Wolfgang setting her eyes on the crow headed mutant. “Pity the fool who survived this. You shall wish you had died like a man out there. Good work, Wolfgang” If someone had considered her overall attitude as rude and condescending she was outright hostile now.

“Once the Captain is done with you I gladly put your miserable life to an end” she addressed the mutant with an ice cold voice.

“In the meantime I shall join the watch at the bridge. Mikhail should be here any minute.”

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Mikhail's eyes fluttered open even as the elf threw her coat on and left. Groaning, with his head muzzy from too much ale, Mikhail vaguely recalled a dream but found himself unable to pull details out of the cob webbing in his head. He heard the town's alarm and grunted, "Should not have finished the keg." He stumbled about as he dressed and gathered his gear. By the time he left the inn he was feeling more alert and the fresh rainy air only made him feel better. Breathing deeply he looked around for the ruckus.

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The Captain grimaced.

"We'll put some hot irons too him. I don't know much about this torture craft, but nothing likes being burned."

Looking at the Crow-headed Mutant,

"Tell us what you were doing here and you will get a quick, clean death."

The mutant spits at the Captain, but says nothing.

About this time, Mikhail comes out and the rain abates somewhat.

"Let's take this into the warehouse," the Captain requests. "You two," he points to two militia men,"guard the bridge until I get back."

The Captain and Father Dietrich start dragging the creature toward the warehouse door.

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Nayobee took a station with the two militia men at the bridge. The rain slowed then pettered out into a light drizzle. It was a cold spring morning coming on. Occassionally, she would hear bird-like screams coming from the warehouse and the raised angry voices of men.

Right before dawn, the Captain and the priest drug the body of the mutant out. They left it there. The Captain went off to rouse up his remaining men while the Priest returned to the shring. Father Dietrich came back out soon enough and offered the three guardiand some wine.

"Praise be to Sigmar, you are keeping us safe," he intoned.

Around dawn, Captain Schiller came across the the platz and headed over the bridge with the four men bearing spear and sharpened stakes. The came back after a going into the ruined toll house across the way with the severed heads of four mutants. He wedged the stakes into the bridge wall and stuck a head on each side as a warning to all other chaos creatures that dare come this way. He took the other two head off to West Gate.

Around the same time one of the boys nodded to the other,

"Well, I'm off. See you around noontide."

He tips his helmet to Nayobee.

"Nice standing watch with you, Ma'am," and he wandered off, supposedly to his own hovel. Now it was Nayobee and one bleary-eyed boy.

Inside the inn, before dawn the Innkeeper came upstairs and and started a fire in the fire place.

"Breakfast in an hour," she said in a ghostly voice.

An hour later, the smell of cooked ham came wafting up the stairs. The fireplace was beating back the chill and the light of the sun came peaking through the window. There was no sign of the rain.

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Wolfgang encounters Mikhail as they both leave the Inn.

"We found and dealt with a small band of mutants while patrolling the town, the Captain is interrogating the leader now."

They arrive in time to hear the Captain's comment and see the Crow headed mutant being dragged into the warehouse.

"Nayobee has headed over to the bridge to keep watch. There may be an attack coming. Just like the old days huh? So what have you learnt in the, what is it, 4 years since we last fought together?"

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"Four years. Yes, that sounds right." Mikhail looks as they drag the beastman away and shakes his head, "Yes. Well I have been elevated to master wizard. Just recently in fact. Other than that though there are precious few moments of joy in the world today. Too much blood and war and too little laughter." Mikhail whistles sharply and after a few moments Vladimir swoops out of the darkness and alights on his shoulder. "And you? Have they made you a full priest? Or perhaps an abbot?" He smiles jovially.

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Nayobee watched the young human boy leave and settled her eyes on the remaining guard. Her eyes spoke a clear language Talk to me and I'll make you regret you were born.

She sighed and looked back down the road. At least the weather had taken a change for the better. Scouting the area would be much easier after she had some breakfast.

The Elven beauty just glanced briefly back to where the Tavern was and saw her two companions just stepping out into the welcoming rays of the sun. "I'll be right back, boy.", she said flatly and turned on her heels to meet the men.

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"Here she comes. A silver coin says she complains or insults something before she says something nice." Mikhail steered the pair toward the tiny inn where the smells of breakfast were wafting out and making his stomach grumble noisily. Nayobee met them at the door and Mikhail offered a wry smile, "How went the evening Nayobee?"

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"Unfortunately very uneventful, Mikhail. I seem to be running out of luck lately. Must be a side effect of your company.", Nayobee answered and sighed.

"It wouldn't take much to run over this place and raze it. I wonder what the enemy is waiting for?", her eyes set on the Dwarf and she smirked at him. "Blame it on our short legged friends halitosis I guess."

She didn't wait for the Dwarf to answer and simply added, "I shall scout the eastern area again once I had some breakfast. Any better ideas?"

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Mikhail broke into a hearty peal of laughter even as he dug into his coin purse and flipped a silver to the other man. "I should have know better I suppose!" He laughed again as he saw the confused look on Nayobee's face, which quickly became a haughty scowl that sent the large Kislevian into a new fit of laughing. "Come, we must eat. The sapling will not grow into a mighty oak without water and soil."

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"Eat first or track down the Captain to see what information he may have?", he looks at his wizardy friend, "Hmm, no contest is it eh Mikhail. Food it is, the Captain can find us here if he wants us before we seek him out."

With that he turns and leads the others into the warmth of the bar.

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Grombar looks up at Wolfgang,

"See, the wee Lassie has taken a shine to me!"

Looking to Nayobee - about breat level,

"Come up stairs and I'll show you my breath isn't the only thing that's strong."

With the mention of food, he gets ready to go inside, but decides that turning his back on this elf may not be the wisest of measures.

"Pointy-ears first," he grinds out. "You were once Lords of the Earth, after all."

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"Don't make me forget my good manners Dwarf!", she spat out the word 'Dwarf' and glared at him.

"Where did you pick him up, Wolfgang? I remember you had a better taste for company back then.", she tsked at the Dwarf and headed to the Tavern.

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Wolfgang calls back over his shoulder to her, "We were both involved in the previous fighting here and picked up wounds that necessitated us staying on here when the rst of the army moved further north. We are both just about healed up and I was starting to consider moving on to my next assignment, in Talabheim when you arrived last night."

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Breakfast is grewl, ham steak, apples, fresh bread, butter and heated cider. You can only imagine what a fine place this must have been in it's prime ... a month ago. The lady brings out the food looking little different than the night before, but keen eyes can tell that her frock is clean, as her stained apron. The clothes are just old.

The barkeep remains a distant presence, staying at the bar, picking up and cleaning mugs with a cloth. There is a fresh keg by the keg stand, but it sits there, inaccessable. Apparently she doesn't have the strength to pick it up and put in on the bar.

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Wolfgang goes up to the bar, bringing Grombar with him, "Good morning Sister, and a fine spread you have for us this morning. Please let us lend you, and ourselves, some assistance in addition to your payment. Gromabar, you take that end of the keg and I'll get this one, and together it will go more smoothly."

The two manage lift the keg up onto the stand between them, and Wolfgang turns and pays the innkeeper for everyones breakfast before returning to the table and tucking in.

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Diarmuir

Diarmuir had heard that the lands south of Middenheim were devastated, but it was nothing like seeing it first hand. The walls of Delberz had held, but the town was swollen with refugees – thousands. South of Delberz, there was little but ruin. Immelscheld had been wiped off the map. Grimminhagen was a shattered hulk with the survivors digging through the wreckage in order to survive. The forest was already taking back the land in so many places, and everywhere the woods looked darker, and this was on the western side of the river. He shuttered to think what the eastern marches must look like.

Pushing on through the night was his best option. A terrible storm had closed in shortly before dark and there would be little sleep gained during this deluge. Leading his pack mule and its largesse for the people of Untergard, Diarmuir saw the broken wall of Untergard not an hour after the sun rose. He was still wet to the bone, but hopefully there would be a warm fire, and warmer food, soon. Only the realization that he was soon to be at loose ends bothered him. Maybe he would follow the advice of a now deceased colleague and move to Talabecland. Talabheim was the city of laws and laws meant lawbreakers. Also, many bandit bands and wreckers had fled across the river Talabec, fleeing from the Chaos Incursion. There would be much demand for a man of his skills.

The wine bottles clanked in their case, all twelve bottles, the bread, rock hard on the outside, remained dry, wrapped in wax paper. The mule carrying them was weary on its feat. Diarmuir’s horse was little better off. They needed food if they were to carry on. On the walls, militia men could be seen bobbing around. The gates of the town remained closed. In a water tight case, there was a declaration for the Burgomeister of the town which would explain everything. Hopefully they would share their newfound bounty with the messenger.

The guards eyed him suspiciously as he approached the gate, a figure wearing an oilskin cloak that reached down to his calves and a shapeless broad oiled leather hat, both dull brown from the ceaseless damp. At about twenty yards from the decrepit walls, he was hailed and told to announce his business.

"I'm to deliver supplies an' a message from Midden'eim to the town of Untergard." He replied loudly enough to be heard, his voice strong in the dawn air. "Now let us in, will you? It's been a curs'd freezing night on the road and my temper's short."

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The one-eyed man on the wall has been covering the rider with his crossbow. It disappears with him and Diamuir can hear the man call down,

"Gunter, open the gate. We got a man from the Count outside."

One door of the gate opens and a youngish boy with a leahter jack and steel helmet, spear and shield can be seen pushing it open. Maybe sixteen winters, Diamuir guesses.

"This way, sir," says the boy happily.

When the traveler comes inside, the boy then struggles to pull the gate door shut, putting his spear aside. After it is shut, the bar goes back up as well. The militiaman picks his spear back up and walks to the front of Diamuir.

"Follow me," he requests his voice as soft as his cheeks. He also looks weary and in need of sleep.

He leads the messenger to the town platz and over to a large warehouse. Near the front of the door lies a dead, crow-headed mutant, wth burn marks across it's body. It appears to have been tortured to death. The militia man/boy uses the butt of his spear to knock on the door.

"Captain. Word from Middenheim."

The door opens quickly enough and an old man, hair growing from grey to white, stands there. He also looks like he hasn't gotten much sleep. Unlike the previous residents, the Captain looks less pleased to see Diamuir.

"Let me see it," he commands. Looking past the messenger to his pack animal, he adds, "Is this it?"

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The Captain motions to a building on the far side of the platz.

"They should be serving breakfast about now," he mutters distractedly. He opens the scroll and starts reading what's within.

"Gunter, back to your post. You can open the gate for traffic now."

"Yes sir," the boy replies with an awkward salute, his spear shaft bumping against his helm.

Reading once, the an reads it again, somehow not accepting what he has been given.

The Inn has a stable to its side. It is a handsome two-story building that has come through the destruction of the town remarkably well. There is also a hitching post up front. As he approaches the door, the smell of fresh bread and ham reaches his nostils.

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He tossed the reins to the stableboy and passed him 3 brass pennies. "Rub her down, get her dry and feed her, and there'll be more in it for you." Without pausing he stepped past the boy into the inn, doffing his hat and shaking it out on the step. He took a seat at the long table near the fire and shook out his cloak before leaving both it and the hat draped over the hearth to dry before getting comfortable.

He was a compact man, about three inches under six feet in height, and the dark leather armor and rugged travelling clothes did little to hide the lines of his wiry frame. A baldric holding six black-hilted throwing knives and a quiver of crossbow bolts looped down from one shoulder across his chest. A neatly folded weighted net was clipped to his belt on one side, and on the other a pistol crossbow hung next to it's own small quiver of smaller quarrels. Of more immediate attention was the beautifully-made black steel crossbow that he set on the table before him. Unadorned though it was, it was clearly crafted by a master, as was evidenced by it's sleek compact lines. It also possessed two arms: a double crossbow, which was a rarity by any standard.

The man himself seemed to be in his prime, a full head of red-gold hair tied back at the nape of his neck in a ponytail and a few days stubble on his cheeks. A faint scar just under his right eye loaned him a rakish air, though by far the most distinctive feature was his eyes. One was a pale grey colour; the other, however, was a deep burnished copper hue. Those eyes fixed on the others at the table: a crass-looking ugly dwarf, a coldly beautiful she-Elf, a burly-looking man with the air of a woodsman, and another strongly-built man who bore the insignia of a Priest of Ulric. He was fairly sure that the priest was Wolfgang, a name of some note in Ulric's order. And the blonde elf-maid could only be Nayobee, whose womanhood was said to put Ulric's breath to shame for chilling a man's bones, but whose skills as a scout were well-known in Middenheim. The other two he didn't know.

With a cursory nod of greeting to the four, the stranger took a tankard, plate and bowl from his knapsack and set to eating. Faint lines of weariness were etched under his eyes: the man had obviously been travelling overnight.

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Wolfgang notes the weapons and mismatched eyes of the newcomer and concludes that it can only be the bounty hunter called Diarmuir. He had heard a little of him as the Church occassionally had used him in the past, but this was the first time he had encountered him. Wolfgang raises his pint in salute to the newcomer, "Welcome to what remains of the town of Untergard. Diarmuir, isn't it? Your reputation as a bounty hunter preceeds you. Allow me to introduce the table to you, Grombar a Dwarf pistolier, Mikhail a Master Jade Wizard originally from Kislev, Nayobee a Ghost Strider and I am Brother Wolfgang of the Order of the White Wolf."

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He didn't stop eating, but nodded once more, a little less cursorily as his strange eyes studied each of them. Then he swallowed his mouthful.

"Well met, all." he told them in a quiet voice that had an underlying strength. "I'm curious. What brings four such notables to this wide pisshole in the road?" He tore off another mouthful of ham and chewed as he waited for the reply.

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Buttering a chunk bread Wolfgang replies, "As for myself and Grombar, we were injured in the last battle here and left behind by the army to heal up, which we have just about done now. As I recently mentioned to the others, I now have orders to head to Talabheim." Having said his piece he goes back to eating, looking at his associates expectantly.

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"Hrrrrmmm," grunts the Dwarf. "I slipped on some intestine of a Beastman I impaled and then this oaf," thumbing toward Wolfgang, "fell on me, he did."

Wolfgang chuckes. Grombar growls then relents before the Priest of Ulric goes into outright laughter.

"Well, it did manage to stick it's axe in my face" (the axe scar running from his nose brige to just above his left eye is still puffy and in much evidence)"but I was still in the fight."

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Diarmuir?, Nayobee turned around to face the man with the Elven name. She gave him a long intensive look with her steel blue eyes and smiled briefly. A bounty hunter of his reputation would add an interesting twist to the company of seasoned veterans – of course only if the pay was right.

Originally Posted By: Diarmuir
"Well met, all." he told them in a quiet voice that had an underlying strength. "I'm curious. What brings four such notables to this wide pisshole in the road?" He tore off another mouthful of ham and chewed as he waited for the reply.

“I happen to be at loose ends and momentarily am bored to death. Usually Mikhail’s company is enough to get us into trouble one way or the other but I seem to have run out of luck lately.”, she tried to make it sound like a joke but given her overall colder-than-ice attitude it failed to deliver.

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