[WHFRP 2nd Ed] Reign in Blood (IC I)

[BananaPhone]

Regine von Carstein

The travel back to Forteresse de Carstein had been, thankfully, uneventful. With the roads regularly patrolled by her uncles there was no need to fear the hidden dwellings of pick-pockets, bandits or worse, greenskins. Instead, the vampire was treated to a pleasant journey through the mountainous ravine of her family's temporary home, the fjord to her left and the forested crags to her right. Regine watched as Luna's silvery disc slowly descended behind the crests of the ridges, a smile upon her face, her blood-red eyes drinking in the natural beauty of her new world. She could stare at the gentle fjord passing her by all night if she wanted to, and who knew, now that eternity stretched out before her, maybe one time she would do just that.

Arriving back to the fortress with ten to fifteen minutes to spare, Regine entered through the large gate of the towering walkways and battle ramparts, one prize on her hip and another bulging out a sack she carried over one shoulder. Dismounting Casper and placing him in the stable, handing him over to the, admittedly handsome stable boy with a sly smile, Regine moved into the interior of her family's castle where the thick, sturdy walls afforded her fantastic protection against the incoming sun, particularly with the heavy drapes drawn across every window on the premises.

Moving through the large banquet hall and courtroom, through the corridors and rooms, the first of her family Regine encountered was, surprisingly, Ulrich, who seemed to be busying himself in one of his research laboratories. Regine could hear him chuckling while talking to himself as she passed by the entrance way, the curiosity prompting her to pause her advance and peer into her one of her uncles workshops.

"Uncle Ulrich?" she called out, entering the large, neatly ordered space approxiamtely twenty yards by twenty yards in size, with several support pillars arranged down the centre to help bear the load of the stone above them, as well as serve as convenient places to hang shelves and racks.

"Oh - little niece, is that you?" that familiar voice returned, Regine smiling as she heard it and entering deeper.

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She moved deeper into the workshop, noticing the red-steel grates that composed the central section of the workshop and leading down to a type of drainage system beneath them. Flanking that arrangement was what looked like six beds, or at least man-sized platforms for people to be placed upon, their maneuverability on display as they were tilted upright at 45 degree angles so that Ulrich could doubtlessly inspect whatever unfortunate soul found themselves strapped into place. Speaking of which...

"Little niece!" Ulrichs had emerged near the end of the workshop, that white hair of his neatly combed and his cloak discarded. Wearing black pantaloons, a white top and a dark vest over it, he looked every bit the man of learned science he was.

"Uncle!" Regine smiled, picking up her pace into a stride as she approached.

"I must admit, I had not expected you to return for a few days. You were supposed to explore the region, familiarise yourself with it...something important must have compelled your return."

The former thief nodded, her black top-knot moving behind her head slightly as she did so. Coming to a stop before the older vampire, Regine easily unslung the head bag that from her shoulder and sat it upon the ground before her. It was now that Ulrich perked an eyebrow when he noticed the disheveled and damaged state of Regine's clothes; the torn segments of her cloak, ripped and cut segments of her outfit, the puncture marks and penetrations that had destroyed zones of her chainmail.

"You look like you fought a clan of orcs..."

"I went to the mine - the one on the map? I thought - "

"You went there?" Ulrich asked with surprising inquisition, "hmm, we should have warned you: we heard that that place was being eyed by the humans for revival. There were rumors that the deed had been granted to a party whose identity we had not yet learned."

"This deed?"

Regine reached into her back pocket and produced the crumpled, but functional roll of parchment. Ulrich received it, opened it and ready it, his eyes widening as he did so.

"How did you get this..."

"There's more, uncle. I think the region is in great peril. I went through the mine and - "

"You went through it?!"

Regine nodded, reaching into her large bag once again and withdrawing the barrel sample she had retrieved.

"Beastmen. They were all sick, like they were diseased. They had this stone in their communal area, I could feel magic within its make and it bore a symbol the likes of which I have never seen nor heard. There was this leader among them who said that I was a traitor, or some such? That I was in league with Sul Konarr...? Or some foreign name as that. I breached the mine, went through it, and I discovered a group of Norscans, led by this giant of a man, clad all in armor that had fused to his skin!" Regine's eyes were wide with excitement, Ulrich listening with quiet solemnity.

"I slew him, I took, this sword from him," she reached over and withdrew her new weapon several inches to display the gleaming steel, before pressing it back into its scabbard.

"But they had no loot...no plunder. He said that the Beastmen were too weak to 'spread the fathers blessings', or something? He claimed that we are soulless, outside of the Father's circle. On their ship I found many of these..."

Now Regine held up the barrel for Ulrich to take, the learned vampire's nose twitching as he was now brought close to the fetid stench emaneating from within the container, as he turned it over in his hands for inspection.

"I burned the ship and their camp and I brought this here. I don't know what it is, but I'm worried, uncle: what if the the Norscans used it to infect the beastmen? There was a small, but deep river running through the mine, it passaged out into the water networks that move down to the human towns. What if they were pouring this into them?"

It was clear that this was a lot for the older vampire to take on, his current surroundings seemingly forgotten for several moments as he thought in silence, peering at the evidence in his hands.

"What did you say the symbol on the stone was?" he asked cautiously, all humour drained from his visage.

"It was three circles, arranged like this," Regine formed a triangle by pressing the tips of her index fingers and thumbs together in an upward facing triangle.

Ulrich shook his head.

"They've reached out this far? Damn that blasted city. If only Manaan would smite and drown it with one great tidal wave..." he uttered, shaking his head before placing the canister upon the nearest bench and starting to pace.

"Who are they? What city?" Regine asked, almost like a child hoping for a parents attention.

Again, Ulrich held his silence for several long seconds, pacing back and forth and thinking to himself, before suddenly remembering that she was still in the room.

"Oh...I'm sorry, my niece. The geographical politics we occupy is...tenuous. The Norscans you encountered, I believe, were either worshipers of or employed agents of a particularly...gifted emissary of Nurgle, who resides within Mousillon."

Regine blinked; Mousillon! That was where they were going...a string of knots slithered into her stomach, an echo of the past tugging at her heart when she recalled her former companions, Bertelis among them.

"Nur-gull...what's that?"

Ulrich smiled patiently, putting his hand on Regine's shoulder almost affectionately.

"You have entered a much larger world than you realise, my niece. You know of the ruinous powers, yes? The four mightiest among them are Khorne, the god of slaughter and war, Slaanesh, the god of lust and corruption, Tzeentch, the god of magic and ceaseless change and finally, Nurgle, the god of disease and decay. He is often called Father Nurgle, or Grandfather Nurgle, due to his followers foolish attempts to anthropomorphize an entity beyond their comprehension."

Regine thought back to her encounter with the Norscans, the referral to 'the Fathers blessings'.

Taking his hand off her shoulder, Ulrich moved over to the canister once more, picking it up in his hands.

"It seems that the Beastmen believed you to be in league with the Norscans; you are, ostensibly human in appearance, after all, and they cannot particularly distinguish between us. The Norscans who spread this among their number and the water supply..." he gave the barrel a small, gesturing shake.

"I saw what the effect of this...concoction had on the beastmen. If this got into the water streams from that mine, those currents run right down through past Marmande, Bellefontaine, Chateau Sable and Tour-en-Bois! That's tens of thousands of humans, our herd could be devastated, and they'd look for things to blame - they would come looking for monsters in the mountains! We can't let our cattle perish in such a way!"

Ulrich nodded solemnly, "you are absolutely right, my niece."

"And Sul Konarr?"

Ulrich pursed his lips and nodded, turning to face her and then move to her side, silently beckoning her to follow him.

"Come, my dear niece, we must inform father of this." and she dutifully fell in alongside him as they moved from the workshop and into the castle interior at large.

"So...you slew beastmen and Norscans? I've never dined on the northerners, believe it or not. What do they taste like?"

Beside him, Regine smiled, "Salted pork."

Ulrich snickered, his sense of humor returning, "how many did you say there were? A dozen? I'd have to sleep off such a large meal."

The former thief's smile turned into a grin as they rounded a corner and started upon some stairs, a black banner of their family coat-of-rams hanging from a stone wall. She shrugged to his words, her grin almost bashful, "Waste not."

Ulrich laughed, nodding in amusement as he reached out to clap his niece on the shoulder humorously, both vampires snickering among themselves as they sought out their father.