[WFRP] The Bloody Crown XIV

[rax]

Spoiler: HillfolkGossip

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"Curious girl, don't you think?" said Wadim, nodding his head just a fraction towards Tatiana. "Wouldn't be surprised if she had some Vrani blood in her."

Spoiler: Hillfolk gossip

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"Could well be. I understand she's Elsa's apprentice, but I don't know if she can actually do any magic," Bardhyl replied with a slight shrug. "She seems a nice enough girl, though, and she's not lacking for courage."

Spoiler: HillfolkGossip

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He took in a long breath, looking around at their travelling companions with an air of idle curiosity. "Yes, this is an interesting bunch you've fallen in with, that's for certain. How on earth did you convince them to go chasing goblins in the arse-end of the Teeth?" That one bright eye gave Bardhyl a penetrating look from under its bushy brow. "Surely as far as they knew, I was likely as dead as you."

Spoiler: More Hillfolk gossip

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"It was easier than I thought," he chuckled. "I heard that Elsa had been up in the Hills, trying to get people to talk about the Jackal, so I made my way to Savonne and put the word out that I'd like to meet her and her friends. Sieghard didn't want to believe that the Jackal is still about, but I made my case and pointed out that if they really wanted to know what the Vrani know about him, then they needed to speak to you."

"In return for their help in finding you, I offered to help them with a problem of their own. Morr had been sending me dreams of a spirit hiding in the city, a spirit that was looking for something. Turns out it was a djall, and it had possessed Hieronymous, the high priest of the Temple in Savonne, but Elsa and her friends only suspected that. I was able to prove to them that it was so."

"Anyway, to keep a long story short, we drove the djall from the priest and vanquished it, but - and this is the worrisome thing - the reason it was in Savonne was that it was trying to find the Book of Nagash! It lies hidden in the city itself!" he whispered fiercely.

[rax]

At the farmstead - before stew
"You look like a man suffering from an almighty headache," Bardhyl knelt down next to Dierk and addressed the big man. "If you don't mind me asking, has it been getting better or worse? Have you been feeling sick or throwing up? Have you been feeling dizzy since getting hit?"

At the farmstead - afternoon tea
"Relax, Ortwin, the girl probably just ran away," Bardhyl muttered. "And if we ever run into the wyvern itself, I'll let you take the first shot at it so you can see that it's a living, breathing thing, just like the rest of us. Plenty dangerous even without curses, but if it can bleed, it can be killed, and then...no more curses, aye?"

Spoiler: LCP

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At some point during the meal, Bardhyl will check out Jarla with his Magical Sense. Let's say that talking about the fight with Tshula has got him thinking again about Jarla's demeanour on leaving Savonne.
(1d100)[11] vs. WP 58

[RossN]

Jarla - Farmstead

Jarla was delighted to be introduced first and graciously nodded at Marten. "Thank you my fine sir. What a welcoming homestead!"

Her smile faded a little at the sight and sound of the goblin casualties. "My sympathies," she murmured awkwardly. It was hard to escape the dire conditions of these poor people and she tried to seem humble as she accepted a bowl of stew.

[LCP]

Spoiler: HillfolkGossip

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"The book of what?" said Wadim. From the urgency of his voice, Bardhyl guessed that ancient name meant something to him too. "Bardhyl, you'll have to forgive an old man who's been out of the sun too long... but what are you talking about?"

"You look like a man suffering from an almighty headache," Bardhyl knelt down next to Dierk and addressed the big man. "If you don't mind me asking, has it been getting better or worse? Have you been feeling sick or throwing up? Have you been feeling dizzy since getting hit?"

Dierk mumbled something unintelligible that he seemed to think was words.

"He can't stand up," said Stevan, in the same morose monotone with which he'd given his opinion on the wyvern. "Seems pretty dizzy to me."

The woman who had spoken before gave him a jab with her elbow. "It's scarcely been twelve hours since the greenskins ran off," she said. "Hard to say if he's getting better."

"Relax, Ortwin, the girl probably just ran away," Bardhyl muttered. "And if we ever run into the wyvern itself, I'll let you take the first shot at it so you can see that it's a living, breathing thing, just like the rest of us. Plenty dangerous even without curses, but if it can bleed, it can be killed, and then...no more curses, aye?"

Ortwin didn't seem too reassured by that. He bobbed his head in a quick nod, and looked away towards the door.

Spoiler: BardhylOnly

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Offering a silent prayer to Morr over his bowl of stew, Bardhyl kept one eye surreptitiously on Jarla as they ate. The smoke from Marten's cookfire rose up between them. In its thin billows, Bardhyl thought the noblewoman's face looked different - as if, just for a moment, it was another woman entirely sitting on the other side of the fire. Then the image dissolved, and Jarla was Jarla again.

[rax]

Spoiler: Hillfolk Gossip

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"The Book of Nagash - that's what they called it. A tool of the Jackal form their own accounts and one he wants back. They have it buried somewhere in the castle in Savonne, locked in a dwarf-made chest and guarded by the Prince's men. The djall tried very hard to bargain for it when she was discovered," Bardhyl explained.

"I see," Bardhyl replied. "I have some experience patching up war wounds. If you like, I could take a closer look at your man here," he offered the woman.

Spoiler: LCP

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OOC: Is it safe to assume that Wadim has Magical Sense as well? If so, Bardhyl will ask him to take a look at Jarla as well.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard thanked their hosts and sat down with his bowl. "Have the hill goblins always been so aggressive?" he asked. "I'm sure there's always some danger from them, but does it seem like it's gotten worse lately?"

[LCP]

Spoiler: HillfolkGossip

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"A tool of the Jackal," said Wadim. He fell silent for a little while. "A lot to catch up with. This book... where was he keeping it hidden away before your friends here found it?"

"I have some experience patching up war wounds. If you like, I could take a closer look at your man here," he offered the woman.

Marten's people looked at one another.

"Don't know what there is you can do," said Marten, "but if you're willing to try, we'll be much obliged for it."

"Have the hill goblins always been so aggressive?" he asked. "I'm sure there's always some danger from them, but does it seem like it's gotten worse lately?"

Marten nodded. "They never used to come this far down off the hills," he said. "Not in these numbers, anyway. People said it was worse in the south, nearer the marshes, but even then..." He trailed off. "Scavengers, not raiders."

Sieghard noticed that Bardhyl and Wadim were whispering something to each other in the hillfolk language. Already they seemed thick as thieves - at least, Bardhyl didn't seem disconcerted by how much the old man reeked.

"Your, um, friends," said Marten, who'd noticed it too. "They... work for the prince, as well?" He coughed. "There's an old tub in the back, if any of you want a wash after... after the road."

Spoiler: BardhylOnly

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When Bardhyl drew Wadim's attention to Jarla, the old man didn't look at her straight away. When he did, the glance was sideways and fleeting, calculated not to draw attention.

"I see a woman there who casts more than one shadow," said Wadim. "What do you know about her?"

[-Sentinel-]

"Your, um, friends," said Marten. "They... work for the prince, as well?"

"They don't," said Elsa. "The older gentleman, we just rescued from the goblins. He'd been their prisoner much longer than Meg and Matthias, which explains... er... it."

"There's an old tub in the back, if any of you want a wash after... after the road."

Elsa smirked at Marten's cautious request to bathe Wadim. "I can think of some among us who'll appreciate it. Got a few clothes to spare too? Maybe something that belonged to poor Gismar? Some shears as well..."

Spoiler: OOC

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We're not that late in the day. Are we planning to stay the night, or continue while there's daylight? I don't mind either way, but maybe Wadim could use a bit of rest.

[rax]

Spoiler: HillfolkGossip

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"A tool of the Jackal," said Wadim. He fell silent for a little while. "A lot to catch up with. This book... where was he keeping it hidden away before your friends here found it?"

Spoiler: Hillfolk Gossip

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"I don't know, exactly. The djall said that the book had been in a library, where it was hidden from its master's eyes. From the context, I believe that was a reference to this Nagash - the djall spoke of the Jackal as his hound. How it came to be in Savonne isn't something I've wanted to dig into too deeply just yet, but I don't doubt that Elsa and the others had a hand in it. They complain a lot about getting into trouble all the time for trying to do the right thing," he chuckled.

Marten's people looked at one another.

"Don't know what there is you can do," said Marten, "but if you're willing to try, we'll be much obliged for it."

Bardhyl nodded in reply. "Wadim - a little help?" he said to the old man in Vranspel before inspecting Dierk's head wound to see if he could determine how bad it was and whether there was anything he could do to help.

OOC: Heal check (1d100)[57] vs. Int 44 (plus any bonus from Wadim)

Spoiler: BardhylOnly

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When Bardhyl drew Wadim's attention to Jarla, the old man didn't look at her straight away. When he did, the glance was sideways and fleeting, calculated not to draw attention.

"I see a woman there who casts more than one shadow," said Wadim. "What do you know about her?"

Spoiler: LCP

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"She's lady-in-waiting to Sforza's wife and the sister of a Verenan priest who used to travel with this lot. Adelbert, I think his name was?"

"At Hieronymus' house, where we confronted the djall, she passed out suddenly when it abandoned the priest, but when she awoke she was the first to strike the body snatcher's flame form with her sword. The djall presented itself as woman, but when it was inside Hieronymus I could not see it directly - only fiery sparks from where it held a door showed that there was more going on than met the eye. This feels different," Bardhyl reasoned.

"But...there was one other in the house. Hieronymus kept a skull in a box and its spirit had not passed on to Morr's realm. The others called it Meshkenet - they claimed she was once a librarian among the lowlander invaders who summoned the Jackal to the Reaches. She had attempted to use the Book of Nagash to save her people from greenskins, but the book turned all her people into the living dead instead. I confronted them for harbouring a creature of the Jackal in their midst, but they were adamant that this woman had told them how they could kill the Jackal, so I let it drop. She seemed to be sleeping - dreaming - when we left the building."

[LCP]

Spoiler: HillfolkGossip

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"Mm," said Wadim, his gaze straying back to the others. "But the right thing by whom, that's the question."

He trailed off, seeming lost in his own thoughts. "Much to think about," he muttered to himself after a lengthy pause. "Much to see."

Unwrapping Dierk's crude bandages, Bardhyl could see the left side of his forehead was one enormous bruise. Wadim stooped down next to him to examine it.

<Looks like he took quite a whack,> said the Raven Speaker. <You've seen those clubs the goblins use? Almost as big as themselves.>

Very gingerly, he reached out and touched the bruised flesh. Dierk gave a low groan, like someone being woken from the world's worst hangover.

<Don't think there's much we can do for this fellow, unless you want to cut a hole in his head,> said Wadim. <You see right there?> He pointed to where the bruising was darkest. <That feels like a fracture to me. Either he's strong enough for the skull to heal, or it kills him.> He glanced back towards the anxious faces of the farmers. <Of course, we could still offer them some medicine. To set their minds at ease.>

Bardhyl's own assessment agreed with Wadim's - he knew of nothing that would help Dierk's recovery except rest and the grace of the gods.

OOC:

Spoiler

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Bardhyl knows that Wadim's suggestion of offering a placebo isn't out of character - it's the kind of trick he would have taught him before his exile.

Elsa smirked at Marten's cautious request to bathe Wadim. "I can think of some among us who'll appreciate it. Got a few clothes to spare too? Maybe something that belonged to poor Gismar? Some shears as well..."

"Well, you're welcome to the tub," said Marten. "The well's in the yard."

Wadim didn't seem to have heard, or if he had, he didn't acknowledge Elsa's not-so-subtle comments. He was engaged in another muttered conversation with Bardhyl. The two vrani certainly seemed to have a lot to discuss. Jarla thought for a moment she saw the old man looking at her - and had they said the name Adelbert?

Spoiler: Bardhyl&Wadim

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"You have been busy, haven't you?" was Wadim's response to Bardhyl's tale. "Talking skulls, women made of fire... if I didn't know you better, I'd think you were spinning me a yarn."

His eye darted back to Jarla. "Let's keep an eye on her for now, eh? Whatever spirit haunts her, I'm sure we can persuade it to show itself soon enough."

[RossN]

Jarla

Frankly Jarla would have welcomed a bath of her own but she caught Elsa's expression and bit her tongue, amused at the thought of Wadim turning the water brackish if anyone thought to give him a bath.

Glancing his way she was surprised to see him conspiring with Bardhyl - and gasped when she heard the slip of a very familiar name. Standing up from her seat she moved over and gave the duo a ferocious look Irene herself might have envied. "What is this about my brother?"

[rax]

Unwrapping Dierk's crude bandages, Bardhyl could see the left side of his forehead was one enormous bruise. Wadim stooped down next to him to examine it.

<Looks like he took quite a whack,> said the Raven Speaker. <You've seen those clubs the goblins use? Almost as big as themselves.>

Very gingerly, he reached out and touched the bruised flesh. Dierk gave a low groan, like someone being woken from the world's worst hangover.

<Don't think there's much we can do for this fellow, unless you want to cut a hole in his head,> said Wadim. <You see right there?> He pointed to where the bruising was darkest. <That feels like a fracture to me. Either he's strong enough for the skull to heal, or it kills him.> He glanced back towards the anxious faces of the farmers. <Of course, we could still offer them some medicine. To set their minds at ease.>

Bardhyl's own assessment agreed with Wadim's - he knew of nothing that would help Dierk's recovery except rest and the grace of the gods.

<"Unless you're hiding something in those rags of yours, I've got nothing on me in the way of medicine,"> Bardhyl replied with a shake of his head.

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do for Dierk with what we have on hand. The blow fractured his skull, which I'm sure you already know is a serious injury. Your man seems a sturdy fellow, though, so there's hope that the fracture will heal by itself, but he needs plenty of rest to do that. If you know of any herbs growing nearby which can dull pain, that will help him rest. Other than that he needs food and drink to let his body do the work - a prayer or two wouldn't hurt either," he reported to the farmers in Reikspiel.

Glancing his way she was surprised to see him conspiring with Bardhyl - and gasped when she heard the slip of a very familiar name. Standing up from her seat she moved over and gave the duo a ferocious look Irene herself might have envied. "What is this about my brother?"

"Ah, I am sorry, Lady Schreiber, it was rude of me to speak in an unfamiliar tongue. Force of habit when speaking with a fellow Vrani, I'm afraid. I was merely filling in Wadim on who you are. I was saying that I'd heard that your brother once travelled with the others here and that his name was Adelbert," Bardhyl apologised. "I shall endeavour to mind my manners better in the future!"

"Well, you're welcome to the tub," said Marten. "The well's in the yard."

Wadim didn't seem to have heard, or if he had, he didn't acknowledge Elsa's not-so-subtle comments. He was engaged in another muttered conversation with Bardhyl. The two vrani certainly seemed to have a lot to discuss.

"Did you hear that, old man? There's a tub out back with your name on it. For all our sakes, get out there and get cleaned up. You stink like a goblin's armpit!" Bardhyl broke off the discussion and loudly proclaimed his opinion for all to hear.

[RossN]

Jarla

"Ah, I am sorry, Lady Schreiber, it was rude of me to speak in an unfamiliar tongue. Force of habit when speaking with a fellow Vrani, I'm afraid. I was merely filling in Wadim on who you are. I was saying that I'd heard that your brother once travelled with the others here and that his name was Adelbert," Bardhyl apologised. "I shall endeavour to mind my manners better in the future!"

Jarla raised an elegant copper brow at that but after a moment smiled and nodded. "I see well thank you." Her blue eyes flicked over to Wadim. "As it happens Adelbert did mention a Norscan barbarian he had known who you may have known. Kelda. I believe she is dead now, but when I heard you mention Adelbert's name, I wondered whether she and he had... well you know and that she had....?"

She trailed off, obviously not sure how exactly to phrase it.

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa guffawed. "Oh, gods, no. We only met Kelda a few times. She made quite an impression, though."

"Adelbert did have a lover, once. I'll tell you about it later." This did not seem like a conversation for this time, place and company.

She picked up Khalida from the floor. The snake's body was now slightly deformed from the mouse making its way through her digestive tract.

"So what do we do now?" she asked, addressing the rest of her group but especially Wadim, whose legs looked so wasted that it was a wonder he could stand at all, let alone travel. "Should we stay the night, or make the best of daylight to push on?"

[LCP]

"Did you hear that, old man? There's a tub out back with your name on it. For all our sakes, get out there and get cleaned up. You stink like a goblin's armpit!"

“I do?” said Wadim, sounding genuinely surprised. He looked down at his matted beard. “I suppose I must. You get used to it, you know.”

Getting shakily to his feet, he clapped Bardhyl on the shoulder with one grimy hand. “Very kind of you, to volunteer to help an old man.” He stretched, pushing his knuckles into the small of his bent back. “I’m sure it won’t take more than a few buckets’ worth from the well.”

Bardhyl’s men watched with some interest to see what their chief would say. It wasn’t every day that they heard someone speak to him that way.

"As it happens Adelbert did mention a Norscan barbarian he had known who you may have known. Kelda. I believe she is dead now, but when I heard you mention Adelbert's name, I wondered whether she and he had... well you know and that she had....?"

Wadim didn’t seem to share Elsa’s amusement at the question. His answer was serious and sincere.

“I knew Kelda Wave-Born,” he said. “I don’t believe I ever heard her mention your brother… but you know, that wasn’t the kind of thing she often discussed with me.”

“I’m sorry to hear she is dead.” He dropped his gaze, looking down into the fire. “How did she die? Fighting, alongside the Jarl?”

"Should we stay the night, or make the best of daylight to push on?"

“Personally, I’d appreciate the rest,” said Wadim. “That is, if it’s not abusing Herr Marten’s hospitality.”

“Well… we don’t have beds for all of you,” said Marten, “but we can find you some space that’s under a roof.”

“And who said the lowlanders were not generous?” said Wadim. “I’m sure if the goblins return, my friends here will be able to repay your kindness.”

“No need to talk of that,” said Marten. He didn’t seem to know what to make of Wadim’s comment about ‘lowlanders’, but kept his good humour all the same. “Not when you brought two of our own back to us.”

“As you say,” said the Raven Speaker. He waved a gnarled hand towards the low beams of the roof. “Morr’s blessings upon this house.”

With those parting words, he shuffled off in search of the well and the tub. Stevan leaned over and whispered to Meg:

“He some kind of priest?”

Meg just spread her hands and shrugged.

---

Backertag, 8th Sigmarzeit

Their night under Marten’s roof was much more restful than the one they’d spent on the hillside. Though they kept their weapons close to hand, the goblins kept clear of the farmstead. The first sound to wake them was the crow of a rooster announcing the dawn.

“You will tell his Highness about what’s going on out here, won’t you?” Marten anxiously asked, as they were packing their things to leave. “It was on his word we came back this way. The edict - they said it was safe.” He hesitated, seeming to think for a moment he had said the wrong thing. “N-not that I’m making accusations, mind. Just thinking he, uh, he needs to know.”

Wadim, meanwhile, had emerged from his bath looking like a new man. Gone were the layers of grime, the natural colour of his skin shining through like old teak. Even his filthy rags were gone, replaced with some plain woollen clothes that had belonged to the late Gismar. They were far too large for him, hanging very loose around his wasted limbs - but it was still a huge step up.

He had kept hold of his walking-stick from yesterday, and seemed alert and ready to go. Bardhyl knew the old man had been awake before the sunrise - Wadim had already been out in the yard when he’d first stepped outside, fully dressed and watching the last stars fade from view in the west.

~

It was a long day’s march back to the northern foothills where Bardhyl’s band kept their hideout. A rustling in the undergrowth betrayed the presence of the sentries, who made themselves known quickly enough. Back at the cave, Grim and the others were waiting, sharing bits of roast rock dove around a low fire.

The other two vrani in the outlaw band gawped openly when they saw Wadim’s face among the returning troop. He didn’t seem to mind the attention - instead, he just smiled at the new faces and took a seat on a handy rock, stretching out his tired legs as if he were already at home.

[-Sentinel-]

“I’m sorry to hear she is dead.” He dropped his gaze, looking down into the fire. “How did she die? Fighting, alongside the Jarl?”

Noticing Wadim's somber gaze, Elsa stopped smiling. "She did. She fought her last battle in her wolf form. I'm afraid I was on the opposite side of that battle. But I made sure she had a proper burial." Wadim did not strictly need to know that Kelda had died at Elsa's hands. "I regret it had to be this way. I met her only a couple of times beforehand, but I felt a kinship with her. I'd like to think the feeling was mutual. War makes enemies out of people who'd be friends under other circumstances."

She did not avail herself of the bathtub, having a phobia of water like most pyromancers, but she wiped herself with a wet rag, commandeering Sieghard's help for the spots that were harder to reach. She spent most of the evening playing dice with their hosts and encouraged Tatiana to befriend Matthias.

---

Backertag, 8th Sigmarzeit

“You will tell his Highness about what’s going on out here, won’t you?” Marten anxiously asked, as they were packing their things to leave. “It was on his word we came back this way. The edict - they said it was safe.” He hesitated, seeming to think for a moment he had said the wrong thing. “N-not that I’m making accusations, mind. Just thinking he, uh, he needs to know.”

"I'll pester him about it," swore Elsa with utmost sincerity. "I know he's been down south lately, and his man in Savonne only cares about the columns of numbers in his ledgers, but he returned recently, and he'll have to listen to me."

[rax]

Getting shakily to his feet, he clapped Bardhyl on the shoulder with one grimy hand. “Very kind of you, to volunteer to help an old man.” He stretched, pushing his knuckles into the small of his bent back. “I’m sure it won’t take more than a few buckets’ worth from the well.”

Bardhyl’s men watched with some interest to see what their chief would say. It wasn’t every day that they heard someone speak to him that way.

"Oh, did your arms wither as well as your mind while you were relaxing with the greenskins?" Bardhyl shot back, then threw his hands in the air in mock despair. "Fine, but once you're in the tub, I'm staying at least three feet clear. There's probably funguses growing all over you..." he grimaced.

Spoiler: Speaking privately to Wadim while he's bathing

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"So you said you met the Jackal himself? Want to give me the details on what happened?" asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

---

Backertag, 8th Sigmarzeit

It was a long day’s march back to the northern foothills where Bardhyl’s band kept their hideout. A rustling in the undergrowth betrayed the presence of the sentries, who made themselves known quickly enough. Back at the cave, Grim and the others were waiting, sharing bits of roast rock dove around a low fire.

The other two vrani in the outlaw band gawped openly when they saw Wadim’s face among the returning troop. He didn’t seem to mind the attention - instead, he just smiled at the new faces and took a seat on a handy rock, stretching out his tired legs as if he were already at home.

"Make yourself at home, why don't you," Bardhyl grumbled as Wadim strode into the cave like he owned the place. "Everyone, our search is over. This is Wadim, Raven Speaker of the vrani," he introduced the old man unceremoniously.

"Did Damjan make it back safely?" he asked Grim.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard held his tongue during the talk about Kelda. He didn't share Elsa's fondness for the Norscan woman. She knew that and so did Ludo. To the others, it would've meant nothing or been against their interests to dig up old enmities. Even so, he didn't hide the look of distaste he had while the others talked.

---

"If he's making himself comfortable," Sieghard said. "Then maybe it's a good time to start telling us what he knows about the Jackal." He took a seat near the fire and began undoing the straps on his armor. "We were told the Jackal was slain by a dwarfen spear... The first time," he clarified. "But from your reaction when Elsa told you we had it in Nath, I'm wondering if the story you know is different."

[LCP]

7th Sigmarzeit

Spoiler: Bathtime

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Wadim didn't seem the least bit self-conscious about peeling off his filthy rags while Bardhyl filled the tub. Perhaps his year with the goblins had cured him of any sense of indignity.

"So you said you met the Jackal himself? Want to give me the details on what happened?" asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Wadim looked at his old pupil, and for the first time since they had found him, Bardhyl saw in the old man's eyes a glimpse of the scars his experiences had left him with.

"It happened as I said," he said. "What more is there you want to know?"

---

8th Sigmarzeit

"Did Damjan make it back safely?" he asked Grim.

Grim nodded, and by a small motion of his head indicated that Damjan was in the back.

"We were told the Jackal was slain by a dwarfen spear... The first time," he clarified. "But from your reaction when Elsa told you we had it in Nath, I'm wondering if the story you know is different."

"Well," said Wadim, "the story I know is the same one Bardhyl does. I take it he hasn’t given you his version? All you’re getting with me is a better storyteller,” he added, with a dry chuckle.

He took a long pause, judging his next words carefully. “I’m older than I’d care to say,” he began at last, “and for most of my life I’ve been walking these lands listening to stories about the Jackal. But I’d never heard about your magic spear before you told me. I don’t know who told you its story, or where they heard it from, but whoever told it first… well, I’d say that claiming the Jackal was dead and gone probably seemed like a good excuse for forgetting him. And the lowlanders have always been keen to forget.”

He leaned in closer to the fire, rubbing his hands together in front of him. “We vrani have never forgotten. We know Nahorek has been with us every day since they brought him here." The hillfolk among Bardhyl’s men flinched a little when he said the name, and Kreshnik spat into the fire. “It was Morr who chained him, and the day was always going to come when that chain broke. It was our duty to be ready.” Another long pause. “What you say gives me some small hope, that we have not quite failed. Not yet, anyway.”

[-Sentinel-]

8th Sigmarzeit

“I’m older than I’d care to say,” he began at last, “and for most of my life I’ve been walking these lands listening to stories about the Jackal. But I’d never heard about your magic spear before you told me. I don’t know who told you its story, or where they heard it from, but whoever told it first… well, I’d say that claiming the Jackal was dead and gone probably seemed like a good excuse for forgetting him. And the lowlanders have always been keen to forget.”

"Perhaps you should meet old Skorgrund of the Dwimmulson clan," Elsa suggested, sitting cross-legged by the fire. "Lowlanders may be keen to forget, but the dwarfs don't forget anything, ever. They're the ones who forged the spear long ago and imbued it with vengeful rune magic. They've hated the Jackal for just as long as the Vrani have. They call him Varag Kol."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard nodded. "We heard it from someone far older than you," he said, knowing the implication would be one of the dwarfs. "And after wielding the thing, I'm convinced it's true. I fought the Jackal with the dwarf spear and... it's hard to describe, but it's like the spear wanted to kill him. Like every time the Jackal tried to sidestep my attack, it moved on its own, faster than I could react myself. It never did that against any other foe."

[rax]

7th Sigmarzeit

Spoiler: Bathtime

Show

"You said you went out there by yourself to challenge the Jackal," Bardhyl retorted hotly, his tone wavering somewhere between anger and concern. "What were you thinking? Surely you had some sort of plan? How did you plan to defeat him?"

[LCP]

7th Sigmarzeit

Spoiler: Bathtime

Show

"I didn't," said Wadim. He had a knack for being infuriating, with that blank tone of his. Bardhyl remembered it all too well. "I went to stop the man from the north. I arrived too late."

---

8th Sigmarzeit

"They've hated the Jackal for just as long as the Vrani have. They call him Varag Kol."

"Just as long?" said Wadim. The corner of his mouth curled in something that could have been a smile. "Not quite as long, I think. And you know, sometimes a small difference can be all the difference in the world."

Adjusting his borrowed cloak, he looked across to Sieghard. "I don't doubt what you say. I'd like to see this weapon for myself, if I can." He cleared his throat. "But you were asking me what I know. I know two things. The first is, never trust a dwarf with the glint of gold in his eye. The second is, the Jackal lives."

A breath of wind gusted through the mouth of the cave, stirring the fire to crackle a little louder.

"We can talk about... myths, and legends, until the moons come up again tomorrow night," said Wadim, "but you say I have the man in front of me who held this spear in his own hand, and used it to strike him down. Forget the stories." He fixed Sieghard with a long look. "What do your own eyes say?"

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard gave Wadim a look, unsure what the old man was getting at.

"I'm no priest or wizard and I've not been to the Raven Hills nor seen the Pale Waste since then," he said. "I saw his body turned to ash and dust. Any man would call that dead, but dead didn't stop his man Klammenberg from bringing him back the first time and Mala is still out there as well."

[LCP]

"Klammenberg?" said Wadim. He looked to Bardhyl. "The man from the north? I met him, on the desert road. A pawn in the Jackal's game... though I don't think he believed it. Nothing more dangerous for a clever man than thinking himself too clever, hm?" He paused for a moment, the recollection seeming to draw his attention away. "...This Mala I don't know. But I suppose it should be no surprise that he would find others willing to serve him."

The old man shuffled a little closer to the fire. "Either way," he said, "it sounds to me like you know better than anyone living what this spear of yours can do. You've seen it." He fixed his beady eye on Sieghard. "So what's the question, here?"

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"The question," Sieghard said, starting to grow a bit irritated, "Is how to make sure the Jackal stays dead and can't trouble the living. If running him through isn't enough, then what did they do different last time?"

[rax]

7th Sigmarzeit

Spoiler: Bathtime

Show

"I didn't," said Wadim. He had a knack for being infuriating, with that blank tone of his. Bardhyl remembered it all too well. "I went to stop the man from the north. I arrived too late."

Spoiler: Bathtime

Show

"Fine, so it was an accident," Bardhyl muttered through gritted teeth. "Did you turn tail and run straight away or did you speak to any of them?"

"And you said before that you've seen what's gathering out in the desert. What is it? When did you see it?"

[LCP]

7th Sigmarzeit

Spoiler: Bathtime

Show

"Fine, so it was an accident," Bardhyl muttered through gritted teeth. "Did you turn tail and run straight away or did you speak to any of them?"

"I tried to stop them," said Wadim. "They had just stumbled out of the desert. The thing they'd brought back with them was starving, half-mad. Newly let back into the world, still hiding from the sun." He sounded defeated. "I thought... I thought there might have been an outside chance that it would work."

"And you said before that you've seen what's gathering out in the desert. What is it? When did you see it?"

"The night of the blood moon," said Wadim. "The goblins took me up to the peaks. As for what I saw... I could tell you. Or you could come up there with me yourself, and I can show you. Perhaps Morr will show you something he did not reveal to me."

Wadim's manner became very grave. "The Jackal's tomb is open, Bardhyl," he said. "His prison has become his throne... and I fear that is only the start."

---

8th Sigmarzeit

Wadim leaned forward, so close to the fire it seemed he would singe his beard. The reflection of the flames danced in his good eye.

"What makes you so certain that what they did before worked any better?" he asked, quietly. "You want him quiet in the grave? Not to trouble the living? He's been troubling the living for thousands of years."

He leaned back again, taking a good look around. "You said you were wondering about the story we know," he said at last. "We vrani don't have much left but our stories. We don't share them lightly. But I'll give you the short version, all the same." He took a deep inward breath, and closed his eye. "Nahorek the Jackal did not come to these lands by chance. He came because he was called."

"When the first of the lowlander princes came here from the south, they found our lands ripe for the taking. They had sharper swords, and faster horses, and they bought the loyalty of the dwarfs with gold. They took our herds and our green fields, and they drove us up into the hills. But when they found that there was nothing more they could take - when they found that the sons and daughters of the raven would fight twice as hard for every yard they drove us back - they began to fear the day that their strength would fail, and we would take back what they had stolen. They knew our god was on our side, so in their fear, and their greed, they called up his shadow. Not Morr the patient, the welcome, the inevitable, but Nahorek, the hungry, the thirsting, and the insatiable. And only when he had slaughtered all their enemies, and forced our ancestors deep into hiding, did they stop to think that his thirst for death would not end with us."

"So, they betrayed their own god. Turned on him before he could turn on them. And the Jackal, in his rage, cursed them for the traitors they were. He would have drunk the life from every soul in the Reaches, had Morr himself not intervened to cast him down, and bind him in a prison beneath the earth."

"Of course, the Jackal is Morr's shadow, and you cannot kill your shadow. For as long as the lowlanders ruled, the Jackal's curse would endure, even chained and wounded as he was. He would drink the life from out of the land, and every drop of blood they spilt on Morr's soil would go to restore his strength, until the day he was strong enough to snap his chains, and take his revenge. Until in time, the very stones of his prison would turn the colour of blood."

Wadim exhaled and fell quiet, seeming to listen for a while only to the crackling of the fire. "Our stories don't speak of exactly how it was the lowlanders stabbed their god in the back," he said at last, "but I'd wager your spear has something to do with it. And no weapon made by mortals can kill a god. Suppose you did send him back, though - back to the underworld. Come with me up to the top of those peaks, and I'll show you why that won't stick." He waited a beat, as if watching to see if any of them would get there ahead of him. "The grave you want him to stay quiet in. The Red Pyramid. Morr's prison is broken open."

[-Sentinel-]

"The grave you want him to stay quiet in. The Red Pyramid. Morr's prison is broken open."

"So we've heard from the dwarfs," said Elsa. "They sent an expedition there. Only two returned. I really don't know what can be done about the pyramid now. Are there even enough stoneworkers in the Reaches? Can they work in the conditions of the Pale Waste?"

She brought her waterskin to her lips to get a gulp, as if merely mentioning the Waste had made her mouth dry.

"What I do know," she added, "is that Nahorek isn't the counterpart of Morr. Morr would find that insulting. The Jackal is a child of W'soran... in other words, an underling's underling. Not Nagash's apprentice, or advisor, or lover... his hound. I doubt anyone outside the Reaches know of him. He may seem a god, but in the grand scheme of things, he's just a big fish in a small pond."

She supposed this was the way of the Reaches. A mercenary officer could capture a few hamlets and call himself a lord, just as a vampire could claim dominion over an area smaller than the Moot and call himself a god.

"What matters now, beyond the Jackal's nature and motives, is what's to be done next. You say his curse would endure for as long as the lowlanders ruled the Reaches. But even if we were to believe you... because the gods know many peoples all over the world have their own self-serving myths about how this land or that land belongs to them... I fear that breaking the lowlanders' power is well beyond our capabilities."

[LCP]

Elsa found herself the centre of a circle of unfriendly stares. Most of Bardhyl's band weren't vrani, but there were enough of them for her words to make the atmosphere around the fire feel quite awkward indeed.

Wadim seemed unperturbed. "You seem very certain about what Morr thinks," he said. "Perhaps you should have been the Raven Speaker, and I should have been the wizard." A crooked smile crossed his face. "Mm. Or maybe it's for the best that I'm not."

"You don't believe my story. That's your choice. For me, as I said, I've heard many stories in my time. One of the things I've learned is that there can be more than one truth. Suppose everything you say is true... about Nagash, and Uzoran, and the rest. Nahorek can be all that, and be Morr's shadow all the same." He squinted at Elsa. "You're from the Empire, yes? What was your Sigmar, if not both man and god?"

"That's what this all comes down to in the end. You're asking me a question, but there's only one kind of answer you want to hear. Forge a sharper spear, build a higher wall... things that your prince's power can achieve. And for that, he has to be mortal, doesn't he?" He let the question hang in the air. "Because if he does represent divine judgement - a test from Morr - then all the blood and gold in the Reaches won't be enough to turn him away. Because then, those who rule might have to reckon with themselves, rather than looking for someone else to bear the burden."

"I don't expect you to believe me. Who'd take the word of a broken old man, eh?" he said. "But my offer stands. Come with me up to the crags, and I'll show you what I've seen. Or at the very least, I'll try."