Session 1: Shades of Altdorf Report

General Summary

3rd Day of Jahdrung, 2507 IC Wellentag (Work Day)
Time: Evening/ Weather: (Sunny) A warm bright spring day in Altdorf
The journey from Grunberg to Altdorf took almost five days, the Shiffers barge finally mooring on the north bank of the river Talabec at the docks serving the Werksviertel District to be unloaded. As predicted by Verstohlen the remainder of the journey had gone without incident apart from the hangovers from the brandy. The Grunberg Canal and the River Reik were heavily patrolled by river wardens and supported by outrider patrols. Being part of the Reikland under direct rule of the Grand Prince order was rigorously maintained.
Vestohlens note arrived by messenger just before the barge left Grunberg though its content proved to be somewhat cryptic in nature. It named Sali and Gunnars main contact as a man called Dietrich Barl, a lawyer with the firm of Locke, Stock and Barl in Bogenhafen. Verstohlen apologised for the fact that Bogenhafen was a good two days travel from Altdorf but stressed that the distance was necessary to discourage unwanted observation. He also pointed out that there was no need to visit Barl's offices in person and that arrangements had been made for all communication to be by post. Reports and letters for Verstolen were to be sent to Dietrich Barl's office and marked 'For Collection by Mutter', replies would be addressed to 'Herr Rächerin' and could be collected from Barl's Office or could be forwarded by arrangement to any address Sali and Gunnar chose. However, collection was advised for obvious reasons and Vestohlen suggested a trusted minion be employed for the purpose. The other key contact could be communicated with through the same channels by addressing a sealed note to 'Q'. 'Q' was described as a person with an extensive network of contacts in the city who should be able to provide you with useful information. Payments would be made by the firm of Locke, Stock and Barl and could be collected at their convenience

Arrival In Altdorf

Even before Sali and Gunnar disembarked from the Shiffers barge they knew that something isn't right in Altdorf. For a start, the Reiksguard are patrolling the streets which is really unusual and must mean that the Imperial Palace is less secure than usual. The tension in the streets is palpable and both Sali and Gunnar find themselves regarded with hostility and suspicion wherever they go. Sali has never seen so many street urchins handing out pamphlets before. One could easily collect a dozen or more just walking from the Werksviertel District to her home in the Oberhausen District. Which is doubly surprising when one considers how few of the lower class can actually read. The content of these publications seems to be mainly focussed on exposing corruption amongst the nobility, though several of the more powerful merchant families are also singled out for attack. The Reikguard and the Watch seem unsure how to deal with the plague of paper. But some concerned citizens have begun taking justice into their own hands and scuffles have become so commonplace that the watch have found themselves in the unlikely role of providing protection for the pamphleteers.

Gunnar Investigates

33rd day of Sigmarzeit, 2507 IC Wellentag (Work Day)
Time: Evening
Weather: (Dull) Heavy Clouds block out the sun casting a shadow over the city.

Since their arrival in Altdorf, Sali has become withdrawn and seems to have forgotten the deal they struck with Verstohlen in Grunberg. She is frequently drunk and rarely without a hangover and Gunnar has been left to do what he can to unravel the mysterious events in the city. The servants at the Drakenhof have been respectful though understandably curious about the presence of a slayer in their mistresses house and most prefer to keep their distance except when performing their duties. Thus Gunnar has been left largely alone and has taken to spending most of his time wandering the streets of the City and sitting in taverns along 'The Street of a Hundred Taverns' and the 'Volkerweg'. Gunnar was quick to notice that most of the activity seemed focussed on the areas of the city known as 'The Docklands' and 'The Inkwell' and so he decided to use the only skill he felt confident of 'his acute dwarven hearing' to listen in on the tavern conversations of the locals. It also combines his two favourite occupations of drinking ale and talking to his daughter, who invariably joins him in the darkened corners of the taverns and keeps him company on his lonely vigils. She also has a sharp intelligence and often points things out that Gunnar may have missed. Unfortunately, Gunnar cannot read or write and so has not been able to communicate anything back to Verstohlen, or to receive any news from him about events in the west. Consequently, he has earned nothing in the past twelve weeks and were it not for the generosity of the Darkenhof family he would surely have starved or been forced into some demeaning servitude. Perhaps even joining the paid thugs beating on the print workers.

Sali rubs her head, in an attempt to clear the pain. The wound from the night’s drinking long forgotten, replaced by the dull hum behind the eyes. Familiar now, again. Things hadn’t been so smooth lately, and the she had fallen into a rut. Where’s that slayer gotten to now? She ponders to herself. The last few weeks a bit of a haze...

Months of hard drinking and lack of companionship have taken their toll on Gunnar, and he is beginning to doubt there is a single troll left in the Empire, with all the blank looks he gets every time he raises the subject in the dingy taverns he frequents. He tries his best to avoid thinking back to happier times visiting the city's Dawi quarter; that life is past now and his oath, and the frosty reception he know would greet him, keeps him from the bierkellers favoured by his own kind. Instead he has done his best to listen and watch the umgi who come to drown their sorrows, in the hope of picking up some news for the strange fellow he and Sai met all those weeks ago. Gunnars rare attempts at making friends with either the printers or the thugs didn't really achieve much apart from abuse and an occasional brawl and he soon gave up on that approach. He hated trying to talk to craftsmen anyway as it brought back bad memories. His attempts to spot anything of value and to follow interesting looking suspects didn't work too well either. He was just too noticeable and anyone he spent too long looking at soon got nervous or aggressive. So, he found his best tactic was just to pretend to be asleep of studying his ale and let his ears do the work. He listened in to the conversations around him and the arguments that occasionally exploded into violence and tried to pretend he wasn't paying any attention at all. It seems that the artisan's that work in The Inkwell District are not happy in their work. Since the coming of the new machines, their skills have become less valued whilst their workload has increased. There are complaints about being treated like slaves and made to work excessive hours in disgusting conditions. Anyone who complains just gets sacked. Gunnar occasionally hears the voices of agitators urging the printers to unite against their bosses and organise themselves to form a solid front against the exploitation of their masters. But those voices are quickly silenced by the bully boys and thugs who hunt them down and enforce obedience from the workers. It seems to be a steady pattern but apart from an occasional intervention there is little else to be learned and even the one or two agitators Gunnar managed to save from a beating were not prepared to share any detailed information with him about the machines, their bosses, or the thugs that attacked them, and none of this seemed to link back to Verstohlen's concerns about the army being away from the city.

Sali rises from whatever flat surface she had been lying against. She heaves her legs over the side and plants them too the ground. She takes an exploratory few steps while remaining seated, to test of her legs are land-worthy. Standing, she cringes as she thinks about putting off the business with Dietrich Barl another day. No. Money was tight and getting tighter. And she had to think about Gunnar. With a heavy sigh and a heave, she pushes herself towards the door, and heads out into Altdorf to start... and hopefully hill finish her business with Barl! Sali vaguely remembers that Gunnar said he was heading to the street of a hundred taverns when he left the Drakenhof after breakfast. It's a really long street and a street full of taverns selling ale is probably going to test Sali's willpower to the limits. But that's the only clue she has if she wants to find him before he returns to the house for dinner. The good news is that with that shock of orange hair he isn't that hard to spot.

The Paper Chase

33rd day of Sumerzeit, 2507 IC Aubentag (Levy Day)
Time: Evening
Weather (Light Rain) A warm summer rain washes the filth from the streets of Altdorf
Whilst Sali tries to sort out the letter drop Gunnar puts his evaluation skills to good use trying to gather some clues from the pamphlets he finds discarded in the streets and taverns around the Docklands and Inkwell Districts. He has gathered quite an armful of these when he is suddenly set upon by a small group of angry street urchins demanding to know "What in Ranald's name you think you are doing?" Turns out that these street urchin's own scavenging rights for the streets and taverns in the area and aren't happy that Gunnar is stealing their business.

Gunnar scowls at the boy who spoke, "Haven't yer heard that dwarves eat little boys? Best bugger off, it's getting on for dinnertime." Dice Roll Failed The children are not in the least bit impressed with Gunnars attempt to be scary. They have to face worse pretty much every day on the streets. Instead, Gunnars threats merely escalate the confrontation and their gang leader shouts "This is our turf stumpy, if you want to collect paper do it in the dwarven quarter where you belong." There is a chorus of jeers from the rest of the gang, which numbers six or seven and seems to be attracting more children every minute.

Sali leaves her room, her head not entirely on straight, before quickly doubling back, having forgotten the very first step to the whole ordeal. She pens a letter, and calls up a servant from downstairs to drop it to the mail service. Phew... that’s a start at least! Rethreading her steps downstairs, she feels a rumble in her stomach. A little bit of food and... something... to drink would settle that. She opens the front door and steps out on to the street, following her nose, and the vague direction she suspected Gunnar to be in. She continues on until she gets to the long street with all the taverns. Perfect... She begins her search for the orange shock of hair. Perhaps he’s in a tavern? She slaps the idea out of her head. It’s merely temptation. She knows that the dwarf has more self control than her, and she’d have better luck finding him on the street instead of inside propping up a tavern bar! Sali remembers that Gunnar mentioned he was planning to visit the street of a hundred taverns to collect discarded pamphlets and so she heads in that direction. It takes about an hour before she finds him marching stoically towards her clutching a large armful of paper and trying to remain dignified despite being pelted with dung and manure by a large gang of jeering street urchins shouting 'Stunty go home' and other similar insults.

The sun shoots daggers into Sali’s eyes, even after an hour into her walk. A full ache sits behind the eyes. The smells of the street call out for her to eat... and not to eat. She comes across Gunnar after a time, and sees him being accosted. She’s well used to these urchins, and immediately draws herself up to her full height, and attempts to hide the pain behind her eyes. Hat on, feather shooting skyward, she marches, unspeaking, past Gunnar, a sour look on her face, and launches into the urchins. “Oy!! Oy! C’mere you little shi...” She grabs one by the collar, if she gets close enough. Dice Roll Failed Sali manages to grab one of the unsuspecting street urchins by her shirt as she runs past her to find another pile of manure to throw at the dwarf. She struggles to try and free herself from Sali's grip. But Sali has a firm hold and her struggles are futile.

Gritting his teeth and doing his best to ignore the jeering of the crowd of feral children, Gunnar stamps up to Sali. The sheaf of pamphlets still clutched in his fists; surely these scraps of paper must be worth something to cause such anarchy?

“Now. Leave my friend here alone, or I’ll see to it that you and your little band take a swim in the Talabec. Understand what I’m saying?” Dice Roll Success The street brats stop throwing muck and demand that Sali lets their friend go and in return the dwarf can keep the paper he stole. Sali pushed the urchin away. “Go do something worthwhile, eh? I’m sure the regiments could always use another set of hands, familiar with handling muck...” She turns to Gunnar and sets an expression that asks what is happening! The young girl scampers off and she and her companions are soon lost in the crowds leaving Sali and a rather smelly Gunnar standing in the street still cluthcing his pile of paper.

"Now lass, where've yer bin?" Once he gets a proper look at Sali, Gunnar knows a hangover when he sees one and tries to soften his tone. "No matter, no matter, yon scallwags were trying to pinch these papers," he holds out the pamphlets, now stained with manure. "Seen fellas handing 'em out in bars and on street and such, and other fellas who don't seem to take too kindly to 'em. Must mean summat or other only... yer know..." he gestures at the writing, too embarrassed to say he cannot understand it.

“Well, you know me. Always busy with... something.” The less said, the better. Sali looks at the papers and then the dwarf. Then, realization. “Ah... yes. Well let’s see here! What’s this thing say to cause such a fuss?” It's getting quite late and the shadows are lengthening. Gunnar and Sali make their way back to the Drakenhof so that Gunnar can clean himself up and hopefully begin to smell a bit better. You then get together to study the pile of papers that Gunnar has collected from the streets. Gunnar goes through the pile looking for anything unusual and sorting the paper into stacks of similar quality and format. Whilst Sali studies each of his stacks and reads the content and nature of the information each contains.

The News Summary

3rd day of Vorgeheim, 2507 IC Bezahltag (Tax Day)
Time: Mid-Day
Weather (Bright) A bright sunny day in Altdorf
Whilst the rest of the city celebrated Sonnstill Gunnar and Sali sat together in the study of the Drakenhof and worked their way through the stacks of paper. The quality varied considerably and it was clear to Gunnar that a considerable amount of recycling was going on to try and make the most of the limited resources available. Sali quickly identified that the highest quality paper, ink and typesetting belonged almost exclusively to a pamphlet she recognised called the 'Altdorf Speiler'.

The Altdorf Speiler has been in circulation for some time and is a semi-official news sheet published to spread the officially sanctioned version of events amongst the population of the city. It mentions the uprising amongst the western provinces and the heroic actions of the state army and the Emperor's Champion in suppressing sedition and restoring order to Auerswald. More worrying is the official list of traitorous families who have betrayed their oaths of allegiance to Sigmar and the Empire, which includes the von Jungfreuds, the von Tahmes, von Hoptbergs and the von Drakenberg's. Sali hopes her mother never reads it.

The Griffins Tail makes up the largest bulk of the paper collected and is at the poorest end of the scale in terms of quality. The paper is of poor quality the ink pale and clearly diluted and spread thinly and even the spelling and setting is poor. The content seems to be little more than salacious gossip mainly aimed at the nobility and the larger merchant families of the city. It makes claims to reveal the true nature of those who wield the power over the people, but in fact, just seems to be repeating common gossip. The Emperor is supposedly insane and in the grip of some sort of dark power. The Saponatheim family are supposedly harbouring a chaos spawn in a dungeon under Castle Grauenburg. The Baroness Weissbrucke is said to be an Estalian Witch who has already given birth to one chaos sorcerer and the von Drakenburgs are denounced as traitors in league with the Bretonian Viscount de Chegney and with the traitorous tyrant Sigismund von Jungfreud.

Whilst these two publications account for the majority of the paper collected there are a few copies of others called 'The Rising Whisper', 'The Truth', 'Bizzarre!', 'Hammerzungen', 'The Wolfs Call', 'Schlag', 'Wunderkid' and 'The Reik Report.'.

'The Rising Whisper' is a rather pretentious publication consisting of poems and verses berating the tyranny and brutality of the Imperial nobility and advertising meetings and plays depicting the true horror of their treatment of their subjects. Most of the content is badly worded with frequent misspellings and constant references to events in Kislev where apparently wholesale slaughter is taking place. The Angry Theatre Company seem to focus on dramatising some of the worst of these atrocities for the lower classes to enjoy.

'The Truth' is basically anything but the truth and seems dedicated to the promotion of any sort of conspiracy theory including supposedly that the Emperor's nephew is a Chaos Demon and that most of the Imperial Court are actually vampires.

'Bizzarre!' is similar in content but tends towards the more bizarre stories such as that of a 'Dancing Plague' which supposedly wiped out an entire village on the borders of the Wasteland and the sightings of man-sized rats in the sewers below Altdorf.

‘Hammerzungen' and 'The Wolfs Call' are basically opposing religious publications most of the content being dedicated to accusations and bickering between Sigmarite and Ulrican theocratic dogma.

'Schlag' is a pamphlet that publishes serialised hero stories. These are supposedly true stories of the great heroes and villains of the Empire and one of the few publications that openly acknowledge the name of the writer and printing company as Messrs Jacobus & Heinrich Gritt. They also publish the 'Wunderkid' which is a similar publication aimed at children.

Finally 'The Reikland Report' at first glance just looks like a local trade report with information on goods delivered and prices paid for various commodities through the Reiksport and contracts available for future expeditions. The only slightly morbid aspect of its content is the list of ships and barges lost and warehouses burned which seems to take up a significant portion of the paper.

There is even a list of obituaries for merchants and their families who have died or been killed recently. The final small stack of paper consists of a number of small publications just marked with a 'Q'. These seem to be aimed at promoting the reputation and contribution of the halfling community to the well-being of the city and demands that the value of halflings should be recognised by 'The Big Folk'. There is a demand for legislation to protect the halfling community from exploitation and persecution on behalf of the 'HEL' 'The Height Equality League' who want it to be made law that no halfling should be looked down upon by the big folk and that the later should be expected to kneel when talking to halflings 'even their servants' so that their heads are lower than the halflings they are talking to. Gunnar listens to all these stories in silent concentration as Sali reads them out or paraphrases their content. According to her most of these pamphlets were in circulation before the army marched away but never in such large quantities Is the sudden increase in volume and the absence of the army linked in some way? And how is all this being paid for?

Gunnar studied the sheets of paper with considerable care but it was obvious that the paper used by the stack Sali called The Altdorf Spieler was freshly made and new and it's ink was pure and clear. This was equally true of 'The Reik Report.' but after that the quality began to deteriorate. 'Hammerzungen', and 'The Wolfs Call', 'Schlag', and 'Wunderkid' could be visibly seen to be printed on recycled paper. It was thicker and more course, possibly having been mashed and bulked out with additional fibres. However, by far the worse quality was to be found in 'The Rising Whisper', 'The Truth', 'Bizzarre!', and 'The Griffin's Tail' where not only was the paper clearly recycled but the ink itself was of poor quality and the consistency and colour varied even on the same sheet of text. As a former craftsman himself Gunnar found the lack of quality irritating though he knew that the artisans involved probably had good reason not to bother taking pride in their work.

Sali scans the papers, the reading bringing out the stinging from behind her eyes. A whirl of fonts and rumors and gossip start to disorient her after a time. At the end, she sighs, and looks to Gunnar. “What do you make of all that? Quite the tales eh?”
Dice Roll Failed
It's hard to know how much is true, either by design or by accident, with these things. Sali ponders the mass of information scattered amongst the papers Gunnar has collected. she was certainly not aware of this volume of paper in circulation in the past, but whether the increase is linked to the absence of the army or purely coincidental is impossible to say. Based on what Gunnar has overhead the increased production is putting a serious strain on the artisans who work the printing machines suggesting that their skills are in short supply. Likewise, the complaints about working conditions suggest that there is a shortage of workshop space, or perhaps that some of the machines are being hidden. Likewise, the steady degradation of the paper and ink quality also suggests a shortage of resources and a high dependency on recycling, which might also explain why the street brats were so touchy about Gunnar stealing their scavenged paper. Perhaps, the shortage is driving up prices and increasing competition amongst the cities scavengers. Sali shakes her head this intelligence gathering makes your head hurt. One thing is certain though and that is that someone somewhere has a grudge against her family. To distract herself from all the conflicting thoughts in her head and a growing desire for a drink Sali decides to mentally go through everyone she knows in Altdorf who might provide a useful address for her secret letters from Deitrich Barl.

Admiral Haimreik von Seirt The former Duke of Seirt. He was deposed when the Wasteland declared itself independent of the Empire and now serves as Admiral of the Stone Fleet in Altdorf. A very angry man with an overwhelming ambition for revenge and the restoration of his status. He also has a tendency to arrogance and whilst charming company and quite knowledgeable he also tends to be unreliable and driven by his own passions.

Allard von Mordenland Another former noble who serves under von Seirt as a Fleet Captain of the Stone Fleet since he was blinded by shrapnel in a sea battle with the Marienburg Fleet. He is now totally blind and looked after by two loyal servants. Unfortunately like von Seirt he is great company and very charming despite his injuries. But he is driven by the desire for revenge and completely merciless in seeking it whenever the opportunity arises which could make him unreliable/

Corvin von Schienfeld Sali knows Corvin from her army days and he was always a bit of a troublemaker. He's an ugly character with a vicious temper and a very short fuse. After being discharged from the army he joined the Bounty Hunters Guild but found the rules too restrictive and eventually moved on to specialise in hunting vampires and the undead. He has since joined the Cult of Morr as an initiate after a ghoul ate one of his legs, He has a tendency to be arrogant is very touchy about his reputation and will do anything for money.

Elizabeth Baern Elizabeth Baern is a neighbour who owns a house just up the street from the Drakenhof. She likes to let everyone know that she is a hero of the Empire who is famous for exposing a dangerous Chaos Cults that was threatening the city. She also claims to be a former Colour Wizard though nobody has ever seen her cast any spells. She is a pleasant person with a very generous personality if someone self opinionated and egotistical. She also likes to be helpful and will often provide useful information to those she considers freinds.,
Markus Fischer Another of Sali's former army buddies Markus is generous, good company and loyal with an unbounded enthusiasm and a desire to help his friends. He is currently a Grey Guardian and Master Wizard of the Grey Order.

Haug Bauman Another of Sali's former army buddies Haug just loves fighting and combat. He is a former outrider and now serves as a Road Warden, So in theory he could legitimately pick up your mail from Bogenhafen whilst out on patrol. Unfortunately, he has a tendency towards violence and cruelty and whilst a real ladies man he treats women really badly and cannot really be trusted.

Johan Schmidt Johan is a childhood friend and is one of those typical sons of rich noble families who have no need to work and just spend all daydreaming about what they would like to do but never doing it. Johan is obsessed with history and warfare and loves to study battles but is too much of a coward to actually join the army though he loves to talk about it with Sali when he gets the chance. Always good company and a generous host he is always surrounded by women and is very popular with the ladies.

Mathias Drauwulf Is the youngest of the six sons of Baron Baron von Drauwulf and realising there was little hope of him ever inheriting the Baronry he opted to make his own way in the world becoming a very ambitious merchant and city burgher master. Whilst good company and extremely generous to his friends he is also very ambitious, cunning and arrogant. He also has a very bad temper when things don't go his way.

Valdred Hoch Yet another of Sali's former army buddies. Valdred considers himself to be a true patriot, in fact, he would probably say he is the only true patriot in Altdorf. He was a former volunteer in 'The Street of a Thousand Taverns Free Company' and fought in the Great Northern War for which he expects to be given unlimited respect and gratitude and constantly reminds everyone what a hero he is. However, Sali happens to know he is really a coward and spent most of his time in the army hiding. Before joining the army Valdred worked as a stevedore on the Altdorf docks and has a tendency to be cruel and vindictive if crossed. He is totally loyal to Sali because he knows that she knows his secret but generally will do anything to further his own ambitions which at the moment are focussed on unifying the various factions amongst the dockers of Altdorf into one Sigmarite based Guild under his own superior leadership.

“You know... I might just know the right person to talk to about... well everything. Marcus Fischer. A wizard. Grey. He might just be able to help us with our... undercover work, if that’s the right term, and he might know a bit more about all... of this!” She gestures to the paper fanned out in front of them! Sali sits down a scribbles a note to Markus Fisher at the Grey College asking for an appointment to meet with him and hands it to Hildi one of the maids for delivery. A couple of hours later Hildi returns with a reply inviting her to dinner the following evening.

Off To See The Wizard

4th day of Vorgeheim, 2507 IC Konigstag (King Day)
Time: Late Afternoon
Weather (Bright) A bright sunny day in Altdorf
The weather remained dry and bright through Konigstag and Sali and Gunnar eventually made their way across the city to meet with Markus for dinner. They walked but avoided the more direct route through the slums of the Sindelfingen District instead following the wagon road along the dockside and only turning away from the river when they were close to The Three Beards tavern near the city wall.

The Grey College was an unimpressive and rather shabby looking stone building hidden amongst the side alleys between Vermin Alley and Ragansweg. It looked neglected and uncared for much like the other buildings around it and would have been hard to find had Sali not been there before to visit Markus. They knocked on the small oak door which was eventually answered by a grey-haired old man and asked for Markus Fischer. They were shown up a flight of rickety old stairs and eventually left in a long narrow corridor and told to knock on the third door to the right. They made there way down the musty hallway and eventually found the door with a worn sign saying 'Lord Magister' is fading gold letters. They knocked and Markus answered the door himself.

Markus grins as he makes a sweeping gesture "Welcome to my humble abode." he quips "It has been too long." The room reminds Sali more of a student's lodgings than the home of a powerful Lord Magister. It's clear that Markus has made no effort to prepare the room for his guests and a thick universal layer of dust seems to coat everything from the chaotically stacked bookshelves to the chairs. Markus quickly makes a half-hearted effort to brush the dust off the chair he offers to Sali but seems uncertain whether to do the same for Gunnar. "And who is this stout fellow you have brought along with you?" he asks respectfully bowing to Gunnar.

“Gunnar. Slayer.” The dwarf’s head is still too full of the tales Sali has related to pay much attention to the man’s polite greeting. He’s beginning to suspect the writers of these pamphlets may not share the dwarven aversion for falsehood, but still, such stories. Is the emperor’s cousin truly a vampire? Or was it that his niece was a witch? Of course the nonsense about man sized rats was obviously a tale to scare children, but perhaps there really are monsters hiding in this city, maybe even a troll... Lost in his thoughts, he lets Sali do the talking.

“Indeed! A long time!” Sali greets, cheerful. “And you haven’t changed one bit!” She laughs as she gestures around the room! “Can’t say the same for Altdorf, I’m afraid! Wouldn't you agree?" "Apologies, Marcus. Such a grim greeting! How have you been?”

Markus makes sure everyone is seated comfortably "Gone are the days when our enemy was decent enough to identify themselves openly and throw themselves on our swords like decent folk." he says with a chuckle."It's all smoke and mirrors these days and hard to tell your enemies from your friends." His voice takes on a conspiratorial tone "Speaking of which, I notice your father has acquired an enemy at court. A rebel Duke and Bretonnian ally no less he's obviously annoying someone." He reaches into a cupboard and extracts a bottle of Tilean wine and three glasses. "Would you care for a glass?" "Fresh off the barge this morning, so I'm told."

“It would be rude to refuse, after so long! "Gunnar, will you take some?" "How do you rate Tilean product in Dwarven halls?” She shifts in her seat for a moment, preparing to launch into the topic at hand! “Yes! We have gathered as much from these...” she puts the papers on the table “What is happening in Altdorf?" "There’s some rage simmering here. Not to mention the fellow we met before we arrived...” Sali will summarize their encounter with the master of whispers!

Markus pours Gunnar and Sali some wine and then glances at the papers Sali has presented to him. "There is nothing much that's new in the content of these pamphlets though. The names and demands tend to vary over time but the general motivations seem to be consistent. The really interesting question is why there has been such a sudden increase in the volumes being distributed and where the money is coming from to fund it." "However, there are clearly enough machines hidden in the city to put a serious strain on the supply of paper and ink. So, someone has a lot of money to spend supporting this activity and when last I heard Prince Kloszowski was practically penniless and in hiding from creditors in Tilea." "But your new friend Verstohlen probably has the right of it. There is clearly some reason the army has been sent away from the city, but whatever that reason maybe is not as obvious as one might imagine. The army would have made no difference to the distribution of these pamphlets, in fact, the soldiers would probably have merely served to increase the sales as they have a notorious appetite for gossip especially of the salacious variety. I suspect that whatever the reason it's more subtle than that."

Sali listens to Markus for a moment, and thinks. Finally: “Forgive me if this is forward, friend. But Grey Guardians are known to be secretive. Tricksters, is what the common people know them as. Surely uncovering a motive this subtle would be right up your alley?" "At the very least, a trickster of such renown as yourself might be able to point us in a... more deliberate direction?”

Gunnar is unused to wine, Tilean or otherwise, and throws his first glass back like he would a tankard of ale, gratefully accepting a refill from their host. The alcohol loosens his tongue, and mind, a little. “Them brats on’t street before, they were right keen on getting hold o’ these papers,” he says thoughtfully. “Could be if what yer saying about a shortage is true, whoever’s having ‘em printed is buying ‘em back? Should’ve thought to ask one o’ the little buggers...”

"That is almost certainly correct Master Dwarf. I suspect the reward paid for used paper has risen dramatically as a result of the increase in demand and your small tormentors were probably protecting what they considered to be a very lucrative resource. But I'm not sure you would have learned much from studying the scavenging activities of these cockroaches. What they do is actually a vital service to the city and it's not illegal to trade recycled paper." "As for uncovering the motives behind all this activity Sali." he sighs "The truth is that there are any number of possible motives but none so far that makes complete sense. As I said when you arrived we are dealing with an elaborate game of smoke and mirrors. What is happening on the streets of the city may just be a distraction for something much more sinister, or it might simply be opportunism." "Whilst the cats away the mice will play so to speak. Though I still maintain that the army itself is not the cat in this instance as it would have had no power to curb the sale of news sheets." "Verstohlen naturally assumes it is linked to the movement of the troops away from the city. But even he admits that the number of troops being deployed is excessive and that there appears to be no military threat to either the city or the Empire to justify it. Perhaps the reason so many troops had to be sent was less obvious." “That is certainly one line of enquiry to be pursued along with the question of where is all the money coming from for these machines and the resources needed to operate them. I'm sorry if you came here expecting me to have all the answers but at the moment I simply have a long list of questions." "The only good news is that at present it doesn't look as though the Empire is under threat."

"Yer reckon they're dawi made then these printing machine? True enough there's some'll turn their hand to owt there's coin in making, but it'd want to be plenty of coin. Who'd have that sort of brass to be spending on printing papers and such?" Swilling the second glass of wine around his mouth - it makes a change from the watered down ale he's been used to on the Street of a Hundred Taverns - another thought occurs to Gunnar. "And as fer the army, well who's telling 'em to march off eh? The Thane or Marshall or whatever yer call it? Well he's the man to ask ain't he?" Gunnar sits back in his chair satisfied at having solved the problem, why do humans overcomplicate things so?

Markus nods "From what we have been able to determine so far the machines are delivered in parts by barge from Marienburg and are assembled on-site under contract by the Guild of Engineers here in Altdorf. The machines are expensive and most are owned and operated by wealthy organisations under Imperial sponsorship. But someone is providing smaller organisations with the funds to buy their own." "We have traced letters of credit to a number of mercantile accounts including 'High Tide', 'Spring Tide', 'Rising Tide' and 'The Gnomes of Xurik' but so far these seem to be simple investment accounts with numerous investors amongst the merchant and noble classes. Attempts to dig deeper has proven risky and we have lost several undercover agents already." "As for the army, it was dispatched by the Reikmarshal Kurt Helborg. He claims that based upon the reports he was given the force dispatched is justified and until proven otherwise he is not prepared to recall it. We have investigated the sources of the information and it appears to be based on complaints made by Graf Ferdinand von Wallenstein and Graf Willhelm von Saponatheim and approved by the Reikland Diet Grey Guardian Christoph Engel who accompanied the army has already reported that he can find no evidence of a large muster of troops in the Duchy of Ubersreik but so far the diet is refusing to allow the army to return claiming that there is unrest and corruption in Auerswald. The Emperor is planning to appoint an Imperial Pelepotentiary to oversee the restoration of Imperial Law in the town." "As for the specific accusations against Duke Konstantin I suspect his grace probably has a better idea than anyone else who his enemies might be at court, but what they might hope to gain is difficult to say."

“There was a wizard attached to a troop just downriver. Have you thought to send a Grey wizard to join the ranks? Perhaps we would have an easier time figuring out what’s happening if we had someone in the ranks...”

"That was Christoph Engels but apart from assisting in exposing the corruption amongst the burghers of Auerswald he has found no evidence of a hostile army mustering in the western provinces." Further discussion was interrupted by a rhythmic pattern of taps on the door. Followed by what sounds like a heated discussion between hushed voices. dice roll "That was wrong." whispered the first voice accusingly. "No! Twern't" replied another indignantly. "Twaz! It goes like this." and there is another pattern of taps on the door similar to the first. "Rubbish! I knows how it goes an mine was right."

"Sounds as though our dinner has arrived," announces Markus with a grin. "Come in!" he calls. The door opens slowly and two small halfling girls sidle through the narrow opening. They need to sidle through because each is carrying a pair of large wicker baskets hanging from a yoke across their necks. Having cleared the door they turn and carefully lower the baskets to the floor unhooking the yokes and placing them down before bobbing politely to Markus and his guests. Markus goes down on his knee's and introduces the two halflings as Blueberry and her sister Strawberry. "They work for Fat Mathilda's Bakery just down the road." he explains "I usually order my food from there as quite honestly the kitchens here are awful and the local tavern is not much better." The two halflings could not have been more different in appearance if they had tried. Blueberry is dark-skinned with a massive shock of black hair and a somewhat haughty attitude, whilst Strawberry is fair-skinned with a mass of blond-hair cascading in ringlets down her back and seems to be constantly struggling to stop herself from giggling. As Markus bows, his head lower than theirs Strawberry steps forward and taking his head between her hands plants a kiss squarely in the middle of his scalp and then smooshes his face into her ample bosom before stepping back and trying to control her laughter by clamping a hand over her mouth. Blueberry tuts loudly and looks annoyed. Markus turns to his guests "My apologies. That may not be an official halfling greeting but quite honestly I don't care." he says with a grin. Strawberry just has another fit of giggles. The two halflings quickly get to work opening their baskets and laying out a wide range of pies, bread and cakes on the table before you. The room is instantly filled with delicious aromas of freshly baked food.

"So, Gotrek how reliable do you think this rumour of a troll in the sewers might be. It's certainly the first I've heard of it."

It's pretty obvious that both the young halfling girls are listening in to the conversation and Strawberry looks up in surprise as Markus mentions a Troll in the sewers.

Sali gets to work on some of the Halfling cuisine, as the floor is open to Gunnar to talk about a topic of his interest. It’s not often that she gets to try authentic Halfling stuff lately, and she relishes the chance!

Gunnar is somewhat distracted by the odours of halfling baking, but looks up sharply. “Troll? Err....yes, well. They certainly don’t mind sewers. Err...tell us what yer know” He squints at the grey wizard; it’s hard to know when this man is speaking straight.

Markus looks a bit perplexed for a moment but as the two halfling girls are still fuzzing around with the food he proceeds to tell Gunnar what little he does know of Trolls. "Well, your story is certainly not impossible the area downstream of the city known locally as The Altdorf Flats is notorious as a haunt for river trolls. So, it would not be implausible for one of these creatures to find it's way into the cities sewer system. But the causeways and river channels of the flats are heavily patrolled by road wardens and river wardens. It would be extremely difficult for a troll to evade them and find an unprotected outfall it could access. The Grey Order is certainly grateful for the warning and I shall certainly take it very seriously. We shall ensure that the Sewer Watch is put on high alert and its patrols doubled."

The two halfling girls finally run out of food to distribute and gather their yokes and baskets. "We will come back this evening to collect the dishes and bring your supper." announces Blueberry "Enjoy your meal." she adds with polite courtesy and then they are gone.

Markus holds up a finger and listens intently until he is sure the two girls have gone and then gets up and checks the corridor outside just to be on the safe side before returning to his seat and picking up a small pie. "Apologies for that," he admits with a grin "couldn't think of any other reason a slayer might be visiting me just off the top of my head. But it will be interesting to see where that story travels." He leans forward conspiratorily "Exactly why are you visiting me by the way?" "Not that I don't welcome your company of course."

Gunnar bites into a meat pie and tries not to look too downhearted by the continued absence of troll. “Fell in wi’ lass in Ubersreik” he gestures in Sali’s direction with a crust. “Had a bit of a scrap with some local lads outside a tavern, stuck together ever since. Seein as how all the trolls seem to have gone in to hiding, not got much else on.” “This business wi’ papers and the army and such... well, feels like there might be trouble in it,” he finishes with a grin.

“Actually yes, we had hoped that you might help us with one bit of business we have here. That peculiar man we met down river, well... he had an assignment for us. If we had any information about what was happening here in the city, well, he was willing to pay for it. But we can’t go direct, you understand. These operators like to bake misdirect after misdirect into their schemes. Your part is very simple. We need someone to send someone with a letter, setting up a dropbox for info a little outside town. One of those Halfling girls might do, if you feel you can trust them. You might be able to do it yourself, but you are rather high profile!”

"You need a dropbox, an address where someone can send you information?" "I wouldn't recommend Blueberry or Strawberry unless you want your news to be circulated around the city on a news sheet and as you say having strangely addressed mail delivered here would merely raise a lot of questions. But I can give you a reliable address that we often use for the same purpose," he says drawing a small sheet of paper out of a draw. He quickly writes down an address in nearby Vermine Alley. "You will need to rent a room but the rates are very reasonable and it provides you with a secure room with a key so you can collect your post whenever you like."

“I knew you were the man to come to with this. Thank you, friend.” Sali will spend the remains of the evening enjoying wine and catching up with the wizard, before meandering her way back to her and Gunnar’s accommodations! 18th day of Kaldezeit, 2507 IC Angestag (Start Week)
Time: Noon
Weather: (Windy) A Windy Winters day
The autumn of 2507 came and went and Gunnar and Sali continued to monitor events in the city. The room in Vermine Alley continued to receive regular correspondence from both Verstohlem and Q, but Vestohlens duties still kept him from returning to the city. The situation in Auerswald was apparently more complicated than he had hoped. Christopher Engels had uncovered a Khornite cult in the town that had been blackmailing the town council and the Witch Hunters were now out in force trying to hunt down their leadership but they had gone to ground and it was proving difficult. 'Q' reports similar activities in the Imperial Court though the anger over the rumours and scandalous material in the local new sheets is making it hard to differentiate between the desire for vengeance and the desire for power. On the streets, Sali and Gunnar have noticed a similar escalation. The number of bodies found floating in the Reik has increased significantly and it seems that the desire for vengeance is actually being acted upon, at least at street level. Most of the bodies recovered have been from the lower orders of society though one or two have been from the merchant class. As the body count begins to rise Sali and Gunnar decide to meet over lunch to decide how to deal with this new development.

"Oh don't worry about a knife in yer back lass, take a brave type to have a go at the pair of us," replies Gunnar, patting the axe at his side. He scratches at his beard and looks across a table covered in papers at Sali, trying to think of something to cheer her up. "But...come to think of it, what if we were the ones on t'other end of the knife? Someone's putting all them bodies in the river, could be they'll pay coin for a little help." Gunnar explains his thinking; wherever trouble is brewing and tempers are raised, there are always people looking for muscle to hire - he's not been above that sort of work himself. A dwarf slayer and an ex-soldier offering their services in the run down taverns where the rumours run wildest, could soon find themselves enlisted by one side or another in the war going on in Altdorf's shadows. They might even be able to learn who is doing the fighting, and why. "..course we'd need to blend in as a couple o' hoodlums," he finishes, gesturing vaguely at Sali's magnificent but distinctly aristocratic hat.

“... I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again; I think we need help.” Sali gets out through a mouthful of lunch. “I just don’t think we can unravel this thing... even a fraction of this thing by ourselves. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to end up face down in the Reik.” “I like your thinking. At our base, we are the type to cut to the heart of the issue, aren’t we?” a smile crosses her lips. “I could go for a bit of a scrap, truth be told.” she says, removing her hat, and looking at the locals, learning how to blend in! Gunnar and Sali begin to hatch a plan which will see them pose as thugs for hire. It certainly seemed to be a growth industry in the city at the moment. But the question arose as to who they should offer their services too. There was no shortage of potential employers. Even the City Watch seem hard-pressed and might be willing to take on extra muscle. Then there are the pamphleteers who already have protective gangs to avoid being set upon by rivals but would probably still need more, and the local Merchants were constantly advertising for bodyguards and security for their warehouses. Especially since the first of them had been found floating face down in the Reikspool. The only people who seemed aloof to the threats were the priests. Who whilst condemning the violence and conflict in the city managed to remain untouched by it along with their temples and hospices. Having finished their lunch, and with an agreed plan, Sali and Gunnar head over towards the Kaiser-Franz Bridge and Empire House, the headquarters of the City Watch situated on the Westernstrasse. Empire House is a large stone building that has clearly been built for defence with thick stone walls and narrow windows. However, it has a large wide arched entrance and its stout doors are usually open if heavily guarded. The main lobby is a large dark and rather grim room the only natural light coming from the open doors and the small thin windows set high on the walls above. The far end is dominated by a long wooden counter policed by a mixture of overworked human watch sergeants and gnomic clerks. The room is crowded with people waiting to be seen. Most look like Bounty Hunters who are waiting to claim their rewards, some even carry proof of their success with them in suspicious-looking muslin bags dripping blood. Others, usually the more nervous-looking, are there to pay fines or argue for clemency or more time. Whilst others are seeking licenses for whatever activities they hope to undertake in the city. Fights are not uncommon in the lobby, especially amongst the bounty hunters who often have long-standing rivalries and disputes about current or past bounty claims. The room is therefore patrolled by a number of armed watchmen ready to jump in and calm any outbreaks of violence. It looks like they are in for a long wait unless they decide to use their influence and skills to jump the queue.

Gunnar runs a hand through his greased hair, slicking it up to maximum height and puffing out his chest. Picking the skinniest plaintiff in the queue in front of them he shoves the poor man into a much tougher looking bounty hunter. “Oi! No pushing in!” he bellows before anyone has time to react, “Out the way, out the way! We were here first, important Slayer business.” In the ensuing mayhem he and Sali try to barge and cajole their way to the front of the queue, Gunnar glaring ferociously at anyone who objects. Dice Roll Failed There is a general ripple of movement through the crowd as those who see Gunnar approaching take steps to avoid being in his path and those too slow or stupid to move aside get roughly shoved out of the way. Sali quickly follows in the wake of Gunnars progress before the crowd closes behind him. In no time at all Gunnars path is blocked by a solid wooden counter. On a human, the counter is probably around chest height. But on Gunnar, it reaches his neck. Gunnar stares up belligerently up into the face of a tiny creature with a big nose and a mass of bright red hair. It's obviously standing on a box. "Whaddaya want?" it says looking down at the strange individual that has just caused total chaos in its nicely ordered lobby.

“Gun...Grimald. Grimald Ironaxe. And associate. Sascha.” “Let’s not muck about, we know the Watch is short handed. Yer‘ve too many heads need kicking in and not enough to do the kickin. Well, we’ve been coach guards, deputies, nightwatchmen and bailiffs all over. And being such law abiding folks we’re offering you our experience in keeping the peace. For a very reasonable rate.” The clerk doesn't bother replying but merely picks up a watch bell sitting on the counter before him and rings it loudly to attract the attention of the desk sergeant. "What's up Scantleburn?" says the Sergeant standing over the clerks shoulder despite the box he's standing on. "Volunteers," says Scantleburn not bothering to hide his contempt. The Sergeant looks up and regards the strange couple on the other side of the counter quizzically for a moment before addressing them. "Right then! Better let you through." he says resignedly "Make your way to the end of the counter an I'll let you in." he adds pointing to the far end of the bar. Grimald turns and begins once more ploughing his way through the crowd. This time disrupting the orderly queues laterally rather than longitudinally and finding it slightly easier and less chaotic. Sascha follows him closely behind as before until they reach the far wall and find the desk sergeant waiting. "Come through," he says unbolting the countertop and lifting it out the way to let Grimald and Sascha through before leading them down a narrow corridor and into an interrogation room. "What can I do for you?" he asks

“Aye,” Gunnar agrees, looking around approvingly, “grand spot, nice and dark, helps keep the ale cool.” “Anyroad, we’re here to sign on. Can see you’re in need of a few more pairs o’ boots out on the beat, and we’re just the ones to fill ‘em.” The desk sergeant doesn't seem that interested in what his guests have to say merely enjoying the opportunity to take the weight off his feet. Eventually, he scratches his head and eyes Grimald and Sascha apologetically. "Look!" he says "Err's the rub see. Yer can't join the watch." he shrugs in a dismissive sign of resignation. "Simple fact is we don't recruit dwarves, elves, halflings nor anyone else except good honest human citizens of the Empire. Causes too much trouble otherwise." He then turns to the young girl called Sascha "As fer you, your Ladyship. The watch ain't no adventure fer bored little rich girls. Beggin yer pardon fer being blunt." "But if you want to serve the Empire then I'm 'appy to take you to talk to the Watch Captain General and if 'e's of a mind 'e might enrol you as a Watch Captain 'an then I will 'ave the joy of 'avin to salute you every time you walk past. But you ain't gonna get to slum it as an ordinary watchman an' that's a fact on Sigmar's balls." He gets up and begins to pace the room. "Now iffin yer serious about wanting ter 'elp out. Then I can suggest some other options." "First off, yer can go out there an look at the wanted posters on the wall choose one yer likes the looks of an' bring 'em in. Yer won't get nuffin fer it because yer ain't bounty hunters but the Empire 'an Sigmar will be grateful." he grins. "Alternatively, yer could take a walk over to the Luitpoldstrasse Watch Station 'an 'ave a word with the Watch Captain in charge over there. 'E commands the Dock Watch 'an they do things a bit different like. 'E might 'ave some freelance work if yer talk to 'im nice and lady-like." he winks conspiratorially at you "'an don't fergit to mention I sent yer," 18th day of Kaldezeit, 2507 IC Angestag (Start Week)
Time: Early Afternoon
Weather (Overcast) The wind has dropped and heavy clouds begin to gather.
Sali and Gunnar are escorted out of Empire House by the Desk Sergeant and make their way over the River Reik by the Kaiser Franz Bridge and then turn south into Luitpoldstrasse. The weather is beginning to look dark and the crowds seem to be hurrying to complete their business in anticipation of a downpour. They cross the street of a hundred taverns where Gunnar had his confrontation with the street urchins but apart from the normal beggars and assorted drunks they managed to force their way across the flow of humanity without incident and discover the Luitpoldstrase Watch Station nestled between 'The Breasts of Myrmidia' perched on the banks of the river itself and the Harbourmasters Office overlooking the quayside. Sali and Gunnar push their way past the idlers clustered around the doors into the lobby. The layout looks similar to that at Empire House but on a smaller scale with a counter at the far end of the room policed by a collection of watchmen and gnomic clerks. Gunnar forces his way through the small crowd waiting for service and once more finds his path blocked by a neck-high counter. However, this time his aggressive passage attracts the attention of the Desk Sergeant without him being summoned. A large menacing man with an impressive moustache stares down at Gunnar from behind the barrier. "In an 'urry, Master Dwarf?" he asks

Gunnar stares back, pondering why the umgi are so proud of their moustaches when a dawi infant could grow the same. “Spoke to your fat pal over on’t Westernstrasse, said yer were desperate for new recruits, on account o’ all them bodies yer got washing up. Well, it’s your lucky day.”

The Watch Sergeant ponders Gunnar's cryptic request for a second or two in order to piece together the clues before replying "Ah! take it yuv bin talkin to Stier at Empire House, fat bloke, always complainin about 'is feet?" "But yer right therz bin more floaters than usual fer this time of year. What der yer know about it?"

The Watch Sergeant looks up when Sali starts talking obliviously not realising they were together before. "Bin tried didn't work very well ta be honest yer ladyship. Dwarves like yer friend here tend to 'ave their own concept of justice that usually starts with an axe. We like to talk to the scum fer a bit before we get to that bit." he explains talking over Gunnars head. "You two a team I take it?" he adds. "Sort of Gotrek and Felix set up then?" he grins proud of his knowledge "Come to fight the bad guys of Altdorf?"

The Sergeant grins "Won't be under my leadership yer ladyship, strictly regulation that's me. But I'll take yer through to meet Captain Trenker he'll fill yer in on the ground rules so ta speak." Sali and Gunnar are once again ushered to the end of the counter and allowed through into the back of the watch house. The Sergeant asks them to wait in the corridor whilst he knocks on the door of one of the side offices and is given permission from a gruff voice to enter. There is a brief conversation and then the Sergeant beckons Sali and Gunnar into the room and leaves closing the door behind him.

Sali and Gunnar find themselves in a small office containing a single desk a bookcase, a chalkboard and some pictures of elegant looking women on the walls wearing less than decency dictates. Behind the desk lounges an elegant looking man who leans back in his chair and regards them over templed fingers. "Esker tells me you want to save the world." says the man sarcastically "But the first thing to learn in this business is that the world isn't worth saving and even if it was we're not the ones who'll do it." He sits up and gestures for Sali and Gunnar to sit. “You look like you can handle yourselves at least. That's more than can be said for most of the scum that staggers through my door." "Have you had any military service?"

“Aye lad, marched with the Throng more than once. And as for saving the world, we’ll settle for doing our bit.”

"Thought as much." admitted Trenker "Something in the eyes." he smiles grimly. "Anyway! Let me give you the low down on our tactical situation here in the Dock Watch." He leans forward and takes a more belligerent attitude. "Simple fact is we are the eye of the storm. If anything is going to go down then chances are it's either going to start here or it's pretty certain to end up here. Even the floaters seem to end up on our doorstep." "First off, There's the dockers themselves most of them are members of the local Stevedores Guild though there are a few gangs of moonlighters operating from The Old Docks and the elves are a constant hassle. But even those who are Guilded tend to work in fixed gangs and there is constant sometimes violent competition for contracts and territorial rights. Our job is to try to minimise the damage these disputes cause and the death toll involved but it's best to try not to find yourself in the middle of one because they don't pull any punches and anyway it part of the process." "There are three major factions amongst the dockers. The Hooks you can usually tell by their tendency to wear blue and grey and their leadership tends to vary but generally, they're co-operative and loyal Sigmarites and mostly ex-soldiers who have done their bit for the Emperor."
"The Fish on the other hand are mostly out-of-towners a mix of Wastelanders and locals linked to a larger organisation in Marienburg and favoured by the Marienburg based merchant companies. They tend to favour green and yellow and recruit a lot of ex-sailors and marines. People who know boats and understand smuggling and piracy. Difficult to tell where their loyalties lie probably depends on who's paying the most on the day." "Then finally there are the official Guild gangs who call themselves 'The Wharf Rats' who usually wear red and brown and generally work the docks in the Reikspool, They're loyal to the Stevedores Guild and do whatever they're told. A guy called Johanssen is their current guild leader, but between you and me the real puppet master is Marshal Mornan Braun the head of the Merchants Guild. He'd like all the docks back under the control of the Stevedores Guild and uses the Wharf Rats as his own private army towards that end." Trenker catches his breath "You with me so far?" “If not say so because this is important stuff, if you walk into The Breasts of Myrmidia across the road for a pint and it's full of tough looking guys in green hats you need to know who you're dealing with."

Trenker sighs in mock exasperation "Take your pick" he exclaims picking up a copy of a newsheet from the corner of his desk and sliding it over to Sali. "As you can see there's no shortage of work. That's for sure. Not surprisingly Quinsberry Lodge is all over this supposed pattern killer and Heironymous Juniper is over here demanding more action almost every day. My knees are red and sore from talking to him." He nods at Gunnar "Mind you as your dwarven friend here rightly says the number of floaters we are pulling from the Reikspool has been increasing steadily and they aren't all halflings." "If you're really interested I'll give you a badge as official members of a Citizens’ Vigilance Company which will give you the authority to ask questions and not much else and you can let us know if you find out anything useful."

“Aye, we’ll ask a few questions alright,” Gunnar holds out his hand for the badge offered by the captain, then turns to Sali. “Where to then lass? Reckon it’s about a drink, and sounds like we might bump into a few interesting characters in the taverns near the docks.”

“Begging your leave then squire, unless yer’ve owt else yer want to tell us?” Gunnar nods at the watch captain, pocketing the Vigilance Company badge." [OOC: Gunnar would like to get out of the captain’s earshot before discussing their next move with Sali, as their plans aren’t always strictly legal. However I’m not sure if the captain is done with us yet] Once confident they aren’t being overheard Gunnar considers Sali’s question, scratching his scalp. “Seems with all these different guilds and gangs and coloured hats and whatnot, we’ll never pass for dock workers. Reckon we might be better off as a couple o’ ne’er do wells who’ve heard there might be a bit o’ work in protection for them as are handy in a scrap?” 18th day of Kaldezeit, 2507 IC Angestag (Start Week)
Time: Mid-Afternoon
Weather: (Heavy Rain) The heavy clouds have finally burst and the city is drenched in a heavy downpour Whilst Sali and Gunnar have been talking with Watch Captain Trenker the weather has taken a turn for the worse and they emerge from his office to find the lobby full of drenched watchmen and riff-raff of various descriptions. The staff on the desk are suddenly a lot busier now that the rain has driven those waiting on the street to seek shelter within the watch house. The main focus of attention seems to be a rather smartly dressed halfling who is having a heated debate with Sergeant Esker across the counter. Whilst a small group of apparent supporters provide moral support.

Sergeant Esker is clearly annoyed but is doing his best to reason with his diminutive aggressor. "Look! I've told you already. I can't take a knee to you behind this counter. If I do we won't be able to see each other let alone discuss our investigation of the pattern killer."

"And I have made it equally clear Sergeant." replies the halfling with barely disguised contempt "that I have no intention of standing here looking up at you. Besides have you any idea how disgusting it is staring up at your hairy nostrils?"

"Alright! Alright! Alright!" says the exasperated Esker "What say we both go through to one of the interview rooms outback. That way we can both sit down, take a load off our feet, and our heads will be at almost the same height."

The halfling draws itself up to its full three and a half foot height and replies indignantly "Oh! Yes! You'd like that, wouldn't you? Get the halfling out of the way behind closed doors so the public can't witness how we are treated by the authorities." he says gesturing to the attentive crowd of sodden individuals clustered inside the watch station lobby. "Besides I have my friend Herr Vedris from the Altdorf Spieler here to witness the institutional prejudice of the watch towards those in the halfling community." he says gesturing at bookish looking man quill tucked behind his ear "And I have brought along my lawyer Herr Schmidt, just to make sure I am treated respectfully," he adds gesturing at a tall rather elderly individual wearing the robes of an Arbiter of the Cult of Verena. "So, I demand that you comply with my instructions and kneel."

“Well, this one don’t look like he’s bin murdered. Dead don’t tend to talk so much.” Gunnar frowns at the officious Halfling and the crowd of onlookers. “Still, spose there’s no harm in seeing how this goes, bin light on entertainment of late.”

"Look! Peraps it would be better if you spoke with Captain Trenker. I'll let him know yer here...again." growled Esker clearly losing patience with the officious little halfling.

“No, I will NOT just be fobbed off on your captain.The halfling population of Altdorf have a RIGHT to know about what the putative “Watch” are doing in order to bring this murderer to justice, and I demand to know what you and your patrol are doing to help, as is only MY RIGHT, would you agree Markus?” announces Hieronymous turning to the ageing Verenan Arbiter for support.

“Erm, yes, ahem! There are many amongst our order who stress the wisdom of gathering information from not only those in positions of high authority but also those laymen who, whilst not so exalted, often have a practical perspective that proves enlightening - not all of us, I feel I must say, in order to be honest with you, which I only feel is the right thing to do - but yes, urm, I feel Hieronymus is correct in his belief and his assertion that you should furnish us with any pertinent information you may have gleaned, or even ...” He is cut short by another outburst from the halfling.

“Yes, so, what are YOU doing to catch this man?" the halfling snaps at Esker. "As a trader in Mootland goods to Altdorf for over twenty years now, I feel I am rightly placed to act on behalf of Altdorf’s marginalised halfling community to find out exactly what the Watch is doing to find this killer! I mean, everyone knows the Watch is institutionally prejudiced against halflings!" "How many halflings are employed as Watchmen in Altdorf?" he asks pointedly "Precisely none!" he shouts raising a finger and turning to the crowd for some reaction that doesn't actually materialise. "Is that just I ask you?" he adds looking a bit deflated and glancing at the Verenan for support.

Arbiter Schmidt looks a bit uncomfortable at being drawn into this point “Hem! Well. Ahem! Whilst many within my order say that a system of proportional representation is the only just course of action in terms of fair employment other voices do stress the wisdom of choosing the right person for the right role…”

Esker smirks as he senses the Halflings argument begin to falter. Glad to see the division in the enemies ranks. Hieronymus Juniper “What are you implying Markus?" snaps the halfling turning on his advisor with ill-conceived irritation. "That halflings make bad Watchmen?" "Is THAT it?" "I tell you my people make brilliant lawmen and you need only look to the peaceful and prosperous life to be led in Eicheshatten and other Mootland communities for your proof of THAT!"

“Yes that may well be so but investigators from my order, and I feel it is only just and right to credit Brother Frederick Graveur and Brother Gert Schilp at this point for their sterling and redoubtable studies of the Mootland folk...” begins Schmidt clearly uncomfortable at being turned upon,

“What ARE you implying!” interrupts Hieronymous clearly losing his patience with the ailing verenan.

Schmidt ignores the halflings questions and continues to ramble on with his explanation “...have discovered that the natural inclination of your folk to avoid, some may say cower, from violence, and the fact that the Mootland Watch adopted a highly lenient view of many petty forms of larceny meant that Mootland communities were not to be viewed as an accurate control environment to determine the effectiveness of policing of...”

Hieronymus loses patience with the senile old human and waves a dismissive hand to shut him up “Well anyway, I have a RIGHT to know!" he pronounces changing the subject. "Drago here is a reporter for the Altdorf Speiler and he has some questions for you!” he adds pointing to the blonde-haired human in spectacles who up to now has remained silent with nothing but a bemused smile on his lips. Drago Vedris The reporter looks slightly embarrassed at finding himself suddenly thrust into the spotlight “Heh, yes. Morning officers, Drago Vedris, Altdorf Speiler," he says by way of personal introduction. "I’m sorry to trouble you but if I could just take a minute of your time." he clears his throat and stares at his notepad where presumably he has made some notes. "Conservative priests have been heard to say that Hugo Shortshank’s death was only righteous given the manner of the way in which he made his living." "Is this an opinion shared by members of the Dock Watch?”

Esker snorted his derision at the reporter's question "If yer mean that Hugo Shortshank's was a well-known ragamuffin, spiv, ne-er do well an' Weirdroot Dealer an' deserved what 'e got?" he asks. "Then I doubt there are many around the docklands who'll be sorry ta see I'm gone." "But that don't mean we ain't just as determined to catch 'is killer." he adds glaring down at the halfling spokesman.

"And yet Sergeant. As yet, I am reliably informed that nobody from the Watch has spoken to the staff at The Mermaid Tavern. Just across the street here" he says pointing towards the watch station door and its ongoing vision of torrential rainfall "Despite the fact that Herr Shortshanks was known to be a frequent patron of that tavern."

Esker looks uncomfortable "Who told yer that?" he says defensively. "Jus' cos' me an me boys aven't bin in there turning over tables 'an beating on the locals don't mean we haven't been pursuein our inquiries. Sometimes softly sofly is a better approach." Esker glances at Sali and Gunnar but his purpose in doing so is unclear.

“Aye, err, right. That’s right!” Gunnar catches on eventually. “Sarge over there’s told us, no stone to be left unturned and all that, ain’t that right Sarge?”

Hieronymous looks Sali and Gunnar up and down suspiciously "A young female long-legs and a tattooed dwarf." he finally utters in a disgusted tone. "Is that the value you place on the safety of the halfling community in Altdorf?" he adds glaring up at Esker.

"Err! I think you will find, unless I am mistaken, that the lady in this instance is a member of the Empires Nobility and the tattoo's worn by the dwarf indicate that he has taken a personal oath to Grimnir their warrior god and may therefore be prone to violence." warns the Arbiter shuffling slowly backwards to put some distance between himself and the halfling.

"Oh! Interesting." squeaks the reporter excitedly his voice rising an octave as he snatches up his notepad and crayon and turns to confront the two new leads. "So, tell me, your ladyship, what interest have the Reikland nobility in the welfare of the halfling community?"

Gunnar also glares at the halfling “An' if yer recognise the tattoos yer know what they mean. Was reckoning we could be friends, but if yer’d rather be enemies?” Gunnar mutters darkly under his breath, pondering the honour to be had in the title "lawyerslayer" but holds his tongue, waiting to see the outcome of Sali's more conciliatory approach.

Hieronymous snorts derisively at Sali's little speech but swallowed the snide comment that instantly sprang to his lips and instead decides that actions speak louder than words. "Well then," he says with a smirk "Let's put some of this value you have for the halfling community to good use and visit 'The Mermaid Tavern' to find out what its patrons and staff know of the fate of Hugo Shortshank's. We shall be happy to accompany you and witness your skills in action." he says gesturing to his two companions.

Drago titters nervously but puts away his notepad and crayon and prepares to leave.

Markus looks less enthusiastic "Err! I would just like to point out that we still have precipitation in full spate outside and that learned physicians clearly warn about a direct link between water and the spread of disease. Um! Perhaps we should wait until it stops?"

Esker beckons you over to the desk. "Just a word of warning." he says under his breath "The Mermaid is a pretty rough place. hang out of the Ulmenstraffenbande, one of the independent gangs of dockers. So, just be careful out there. Ok!"

Gunnar nods to the halfling and his entourage, and makes an attempt at saluting the captain, like he has seen other men of the watch do, then bustles out behind Salundra as quickly as he can. 18th day of Kaldezeit, 2507 IC Angestag (Start Week)
Time: Late-Afternoon
Weather: (Heavy Rain) The heavy clouds have finally burst and the city is drenched in a heavy downpour
Sali and Gunnar emerge from the watch station into the torrential downpour heralding the first day of winter in Altdorf. Cold water quickly seeps into their clothing causing them to shudder as they make their way hurriedly across Luitpoldstrasse towards 'The Mermaid Tavern'. 'The Mermaid' is a run down looking tavern built on a wharf that overlooks the pool of Altdorf. It was once a warehouse but has been heavily modified over the years to provide a watering hole for local dock workers. Despite the improvements, the tavern still retains many of its old features being a tall square building with a wide entrance onto Luitpoldstrasse, originally used by wagons and another at the back which opens onto a quay overlooking the river. The building still retains the distinctive hoists at the peak of its roof originally used to hoist goods to the upper floors. Though the winches have long since been removed.

Ducking underneath the water cascading from the abandoned hoist, Gunnar shoves his way through the tavern doors, remembering at the last minute to hold them open for Sali. As his eyes quickly adjust to the relative darkness within he looks around the room; for signs of the type of trouble Esker warned them about, but more urgently for the bar.

“Ale.” Gunnar holds up two fingers to the barkeep. Leaning back against the bar while the tankards are filled he glances around the room, trying his best to do so surreptitiously. Dice Roll Success Gunnar scans the room seeing nothing of any real concern. The room is full of human labouring types as one might expect in a tavern on a major dockland quay. In some ways, it reminds him of a drinking hall from back home in Karak Angaraz where burly dwarven miners would congregate to relax and let off steam after a hard days work. The halfling and his soggy companions follow Gunnar over to the bar.

"Three white wines please Trotz." he demands bruskly.

"Can't keep you away can we Master Hiero. I reckon I should start charging you fer accommodation." there was a snort of derision from the two other barkeepers standing nearby and Trotz gives them a wink.

"Just doing my civic duty Trotz that's all." replies Hieronymous imperiously.

Trotz guffaws at the halfling "That's what you call it then is it?" He winks again at the other bar staff "Nothing to do with the size of Petals arse then?"

"I'm merely looking after her welfare. The size of her bottom has nothing to do with it." he snaps though he doesn't sound very convincing "Where is she anyway?"

"In the kitchen working. Some of us don't 'ave the money to waste swanning about causing trouble. So leave her alone she's preparing the dinners." Trotz warns.

"Actually Trotz we're here on official business," announces Drago stepping up to the bar. "These two crack investigators are here to track down the murderer of poor Hugo Shortshanks." he says waving a hand towards Sali and Gunnar "We know he dealt weird root in this tavern we just need to know who killed him because of it."

Trotz bristles "He did not. I'll have you know I run a tight ship an if Hugo was dealin in my tavern I'd 'ave kicked im into the pool meself." The bar goes quiet again as Trotz glares at Drago. The two barmen step back giving the boss more space.

Trotz is taken aback by the sudden challenging question from the woman in the big hat. "Jus, don't want no trouble is all, yer ladyship." he stammers defensively "What people do in their own time is their affair jus' not in 'ere right?" The latter comment seemed to be to the bar as a whole. "Don't care what it is," he adds pointedly "I run's a tight ship, just ask anyone, ask Tarwin Fleischer soon showed 'im the door I did."

"Excuse me!" interrupts Drago fiddling with his notebook and removing the crayon from behind his ear to poise it over a page "This Tarwin Fleischer could he have been the man who murdered Hugo Shortshanks?"

Scratched his beard thoughtfully "He's a nasty piece of work to be sure. Wouldn't put it past 'im especailly if 'e was paid enough."

"Ranald only knows and I'm not 'is keeper." Trotz blurts in response to Sali's enquiry "But if I had ta put clanks on it I'd say 'The Three Beards'. They let anyone drink in there."

Gunnar has been concentrating on his ale throughout the conversation, but his ears prick up at the mention of another tavern. Bar crawl? "This Fleischer lad then, what makes yer think he's behind it? What had he against errr, whatsit, the dead halfling fella?"

"Never said 'e was did I?" Trotz replies indignantly "Just agreeing with that inky you brought with you that he might be up for it."

"Well go on then, who d'yer reckon it was? Must have a pretty good idea of the comings and goings, bar keeps always do. Unless o' course yer want us to go and ask your pal Fleischer? We'll be sure and let him know who it was sent us." Dice Roll Success

"Hugo was addled most of the time 'an when 'e wasn't 'e was botherin' everyone to raise the clanks fer another root to chew on." he looks over to the two barmen for confirmation "Simple fact is 'e was a damned nuisance 'an none of us are sorry to see him gone. But do we know who did 'im?" he shrugs "Could 'ave bin Fleischer if 'e was paid enough, but could just 'ave been someone 'e owed money to, or someone 'e stole money from, could even 'ave been The Lodge trying to clean up their own mess, Ranald knows he must 'ave been an embarrassment to them. Who knows?"

Drago jumped in quickly crayon poised for a quote "So, you're saying that 'The Shorty Slicer' could be another shorty...I mean halfling?" he seems really excited at the idea "And from Quinsberry Lodge no less. Interesting."

"Never said that at all" growls Trotz clearly annoyed with the reporter.

"No! He didn't and the idea is preposterous. Quinsberry Lodge is a respectable organization fighting for the welfare of the halfling community not a den of cutthroats and murderers." injects Hieronymous Juniper acidly

“... I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again; I think we need help.” Sali gets out through a mouthful of lunch. “I just don’t think we can unravel this thing... even a fraction of this thing by ourselves. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to end up face down in the Reik.” Sali could feel a buzzing starting to form at the sides of her head. She was growing tired of his tag along and wanted to extract herself from this particular thread of inquiry as fast as possible! “Well, it looks like you’ve given us a lot to go on. We have a few places we’d like to visit and follow up on some leads. And... well, we know where to find you if we need to talk again!” Dice Roll Success Sali scans the tavern again but fails to notice any obvious lines of inquiry to pursue. Like Gunnar, Sali sees a tavern full of laborers. Tough hard-working men covered in tattoos enjoying a few drinks after a long day on the docks. Sali signals to Gunnar and heads back out into the rain hoping that the halfling and his entourage decide not to follow or at least are too slow to keep pace. Sali leads Gunnar eastwards along Luitpoldstrasse and across the Old Kaiser Bridge into the Reikerbahn District following the wagonway along the river before crossing the Reik by the Mourners Bridge and arriving in the halfling district of the city by which time they were both thoroughly soaked but had managed to lose the halfling and his party. They make their way through the diminutive buildings of what is locally referred to as 'The Little Moot' towards the one large building that stands out above all the others known as 'The Lodge'. The Lodge is one of the largest buildings in Little Moot being two stories high and almost 50' square. The double entrance doors are made of solid wood and adorned with a large stylized letter 'Q'. Built in a similar style to Empire House it's clear that the solid walls and small windows would make the building very easy to defend. As Sali and Gunnar approach the main doors to The Lodge House it becomes pretty obvious that halfling builders whilst mimicking the architecture of Empire House had made no concessions to the comfort of other races. The lintel of the door is approximately level with Sali's chest and whilst Gunnar might just be able to walk under it without stooping Sali would need to crouch or drop to her knees to get through it.

Finally! The door is thrown open and an elderly well-dressed rotund halfling stands on the threshold. "Quinsberry bless me a dwarf no less and a soggy one at that. Well, you'd better come in before you both drown. Have you no idea what time it is, my dinner will soon be ready?" "You'll have to duck down a bit, we don't cater for big'uns here."

Gunnar weighs up the size of the door and Sali's height before deciding to stay out in the rain for now. "Won't be a moment, just had a few questions about Hugo Shortshanks. Err, gods rest him and all that," he does his best to look sympathetic.

"Hugo Shortshanks?" the halfling repeats the name as if trying to place it "Oh! Yes, the pedlar who was murdered last week." he finally remembers where he has heard it. "Terrible thing of course, but he was warned that trading with the big folk carries a big risk. I believe one of our members is investigating the murder as we speak. May I ask what interest you have in the tragedy?" "He didn't owe you money did he?" "I'm afraid Hugo was not a member of The Lodge." he leans forward conspiratorially "In fact, his family is quite near the end of the Haffenlyver," he adds by way of explanation. "Wanderers you see, not really from the Moot at all." he shrugs "But even if he were a member we are not a guild and offer no guarantee or warranty for our member's obligations."

"No no, not here for money. Just thought we'd look into it on behalf o' the Watch. Us being upstanding citizens like. Yer reckon he was dealing with one o' the long legs then? Got mixed up in some trouble?"

"The Watch err!" snorts the halfling "Well they could certainly do with some help. My name is SIR Bullywick Applebag by the way. I don't think we've met before have we?" "I'm the Grand Master and Lord High Chancellor of the Lodge, a direct descendant of the heroes of the Battle of Hell Fenn and a proud campaigner for equal heights for halflings everywhere." "And who might you two be?"

"Captain eh!" acknowledges Bully "I'm pleased to see that the watch are finally taking this murder seriously. Perhaps now young Hiero will stop moaning about the lack of progress they are making."

"The lad Hiero's taken a bit of an interest hasn't he, were he close to the dead fella?"

Bully chuckles at the dwarf's question "Hardly, Master Dwarf. In fact, if the rumours are true they were probably rivals for the love of that young female halfling who works in The Mermaid Tavern. What's her name now begins with a 'P'," he frowns in concentration for a bit "Pansy, I think, or was it Polly, No! No! No! pretty sure it was a flower name." he waves his hand dismissively "Anyway doesn't matter what she's called really, the point is Hiero takes his role in the community very seriously and he didn't like the way that Hugo fella was bringing halflings into disrepute, especially if it endangered a pretty young halfling female." he chuckled again and gave Gunnar a wink.

Gunnar catches Sali's eye and nods, waiting to see the chubby halfling's response

"Oh! I suspect it was just the usual sort of obsession with them both trying to pick the ripest fruit on the bush. I only know about it at all because Hiero was fixated on the danger that Hugo was placing the girl in. Tried to get us to ban Hugo from visiting The Mermaid Tavern, but we have no authority over non-members so there was really nothing we could do."

"Aye and what sort of danger do yer mean? The lad were dealing in weirdroot no? That's what yer mean by, errr, disrepute?"

Bully's stomach shakes with amusement at the female sore-heads naive question "Young lady I doubt that the blessed Hyacinth herself knows the answer to that question, but if she's anything like my girls she'll be sampling the milk before buying the cow. Perhaps you should ask her which she found the sweetest." "As for poor Hugo from what Hiero tells me he was mixing with that nasty bunch of soreheads in the tavern where the girl works. There was certainly mention of weirdroot but Hiero was never clear whether Hugo was dealing or simply addicted. Either way, he wanted to try and keep the girl out of it if he could reckoned Hugo was just using her and putting her in harm's way." Sali and Gunnar have been standing around in the pouring rain for some time, neither is wearing protective clothing and so both are thoroughly soaked to the skin.

"Tell us more about these wrong'uns from tavern then, how bad are we talking? Bad enough to have poor Hugo bumped off?" Gunnar wipes the rainwater out of his eyes as he talks, and glancing at Sali's similarly drenched state adds, "And don't suppose you could tell us the answer somewhere indoors could yer? Perishing out here." Dice Roll Success

"You are welcome to come in out of the rain, but I'm not sure there is much more I can tell you. I only know what Hiero told me. He said Hugo was dealing with some nasty soreheads from The Mermaid and that he was concerned the young halfling lass might be drawn into it. We know that Hugo was trading in weird root and other illicit substances but he was careful to keep his suppliers secret even from us."

"According to Hiero, she works in the kitchens at The Mermaid Tavern."

"And these long leg pals of the dead fella yer were talking about, any chance of a name?" Droplets of water run from Gunnar's beard as he speaks.

Under his breath while he waits for Bully's response, Gunnar mutters to Sali, "Reckon we're about done with me laddo here, could do with a roof over head and summat to drink. What d'yer think, check in with Hugo's fancy lass back at Mermaid? Or try that Fleischer bloke the barman were on about?"

"Not that I recall. Hiero seemed more concerned that Hugo was getting the girl involved, but said she was scared and wouldn't talk to him about it."

“Aye, agreed,” Gunnar can already feel the warmth of the Mermaid’s kitchen, and smell the pot of halfling stew. “Thanking yer for your time then Sir.” 18th day of Kaldezeit, 2507 IC Angestag (Start Week)
Time: Early Evening
Weather: (Freezing Fog) The rain has eased and the city is now shrouded in a dense freezing fog.
Sali and Gunnar bid farewell to Sir Bullywick and make their way back once more towards 'The Mermaid Tavern'. The freezing rain has eased slightly but has now been replaced by a dense freezing fog that chills the bones and reduces their visibility to no more than sixty paces. Fortunately, Sali knows the city well enough to navigate the streets and alleyways without being able to see the landmarks on the route and they work their way back across the Sigmar and Old Kaiser Bridges to Luitpoldstrasse. However, as they pass the Teamster's Guild House on their right they become aware of a commotion ahead of them. Voices are raised, there are shouts of command, jeers of derision, and the distinctive sound of wood being smashed. It sounds like a riot.

"Sal... N.... Oh for..." the girl is gone into the fog before Gunnar can think of what to say. He hurries after in the direction of the guildhall as fast as he can manage. Sali marches resolutely along Luitpoldstrasse towards the sound of the disturbance with Gunnar still cold wet and bedraggled struggling along behind. They pass the Riverman's Association Guildhouse on their right and are approaching Fork Wharf and the Fischmarkt when they see a large crowd gathered on the wagonway ahead laughing a jeering at something further down the street. The sound of shouted orders and splintering wood comes from beyond them focused on one of the nearby warehouses that line the street opposite the wharf. [Roll For Observation]

Sali forces her way through the crowd to find Sergeant Esker and his squad dithering about at the entrance to one of the warehouses to the right of the road. There is the sound of wood being smashed and things being thrown about inside but the watchmen seem reluctant to investigate whilst Esker seems to have his hands full trying to placate a trio of foreign traders with dark hair and thick drooping moustaches gibbering away at him in what sounds like Tilean. Esker looks up as Sali appears out of the crowd "Don't suppose you speak their lingo do you, can't make out a word they're saying."

“... I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again; I think we need help.” Sali gets out through a mouthful of lunch. “I just don’t think we can unravel this thing... even a fraction of this thing by ourselves. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to end up face down in the Reik.” “I haven’t the first notion what they’re...Give me a sec. Maybe they speak a bit of Bretonnian.” Sali steps forward with her hands out non-threatening. She’ll try to greet the men in Bretonnian. Gunnar follows more slowly behind Sali his hair dropping and feet cold and wet in his squelching leather boots. He nudges his way through the jeering crowd behind her noting that most of them seem to be dockers. His professional eye glances at the tattoos on their arms always interested in what runes the manlings choose to adorn their skin with. There is the usual mixture of anchors, knives, ships in full sail and deaths heads but the most common device present on almost all of them is a representation of a fish. Gunnar begins to look for it explicitly. The designs vary from the crude and simple ones that are probably self-crafted to the elaborate and colourful ones picked out in vivid colours and clearly the work of artists. Curiosity peeked Gunnar begins to study the manlings more closely, they are nearly all wearing caps to protect their heads from the rain the large floppy berets being combinations of green and yellow. Some with small fish brooches pinned to the band or used to attach a bedraggled looking feather. One particularly huge and heavily built man looking to Gunnar to be a young mature male with a shaved head and a large brass earring. Notices Gunnar looking at him and scowls at him "You lookin at me, Dwarf?" he growls his face breaking into a cheerfully psychotic grin. The rest of the crowd seem to be focused on making fun of a group of watchmen dithering about in front of an open warehouse. They seem to be trying to get a lantern inside the door. but whenever one of them pucks up the courage to dash in a place one on the floor a crate or some other missile is launched from the darkness to smash it away and extinguish it. Each failed attempt prompts fresh cheers and jeers from the crowd around Gunnar who are clearly enjoying the sport. Meanwhile, Sali is practicing her Bretonnian on the three foreign traders but without much success. Sali of course speaks fluent Bretonnian having been schooled extensively in the more refined language skills by her mother the Duchess. But unfortunately, it appears that the foreigners had no such schooling and instead resort to manic sign language and mime to try and convey their information. Pointing to the warehouse making weird animalistic noises and gestures and then hugging themselves and pointing at each other.

Sergeant Esker looks at Sali and shrugs. "The dockers," he says pointing to a nervous-looking group of stevedores gathered quite a distance down the street "reckon there's a troll loose in the warehouse." He looks over as another crate flies out of the darkness "Not sure about that but there's something nasty in there and it obviously doesn't want to be seen."

Thinking of a suitable riposte to the big man with the earring, Gunnar doesn’t initially hear Sali’s words. When they do register all thoughts of green and yellow fish disappear from his mind. “Stand back here lass,” he says, already marching off towards the warehouse door before turning back, “Err..Hrolfsson. Me full name. Gunnar Hrolfsson, o’ Karak Azrgaraz, clan o’ Ironbeard. Just so’s...yer know.” Then he stamps off into the unlit warehouse. Dice Roll Failed There is an eerie silence as Gunnar steps off the street and into the darkness of the warehouse, even the crowds outside fall silent holding their breath and waiting to see what happens next. Gunnar lets his eyesight adjust to the dark and avoids looking back into the light to see what's happening on the street behind him as it would ruin his vision. The floor is littered with broken packaging cases and spilled foodstuffs, mostly fruit, and scattered lanterns. There is a growing pool of lamp oil under his feet and all around him are stacks of wooden packing crates rising up to just short of the ceiling on either side of a narrow aisle which is just wide enough for a trolley. At the end of the aisle, he can see some sort of lift mechanism operated by rope pulleys leading to a second floor above. There is a sudden shriek almost directly above him and he looks up just in time to see another packing case heading directly for his head. Gunnar was looking for a Troll, something huge and in your face. He wasn't expecting a crate of apples and by the time his brain reacted to its unexpected appearance, it was far too late. He tried to duck out of the way but his sodden boots failed to grip well on the oil-soaked floor of the warehouse and whilst he managed to protect his head with his arms the crate landed painfully against his right forearm and broke apart shedding another layer of fruit across the warehouse floor. It was a glancing blow and lacking any real power, nevertheless, it had weight and gravity behind it and Gunnar grunted in pain as he deflected it away. [Damage Right Arm: S3+1(1d6)+0SL = -4 Damage to Right Arm Wound Pool reduced to 14]

Cursing and rubbing his injured arm, Gunnar stares up at the top of the stack of crates, trying to catch a glimpse of his assailant. He reaches for his axe, using his uninjured left hand to free it from his belt, then pauses. Does everything seem right here? OOC: Gunnar has knowledge of trolls and their ways, would anything he can see or smell (or not smell) indicate whether it is a troll or not hiding in the warehouse? Gunnar can hear something scampering about along to top of the stacked crates muttering gibberish in a foreign tongue. He knows that Trolls come in many and varied species but the sounds coming from above don't sound like any dialect of Orgvar he has heard before, and somehow he can't imagine a troll managing to squeeze into the narrow space between the crates and the ceiling. Nor does it strike him as normal troll behaviour even if there was physical space to allow it. Gunnar stands in silence listening to the creature above him and poised to avoid another crate if necessary. After a long few seconds, it seems to calm down and perhaps thinking the dwarf may have gone it peers over the edge of the stack to see what's going on. Gunnar catches a brief glimpse of a small head, dark skin, large nose, pointed ears and large red eyes. It screeches again as soon as it sees him and pushes another crate of apples from the top of the stack towards him, but this time its aim is poorly judged and the crate simply crashes to the floor as the creature goes into another fit of panic rushing back and forth along the top of the remaining crates. Gunnar still isn't certain what it is but it looks like a small goblin, or perhaps a large Snotling.

"Now lad," Gunnar shouts up to the creature, putting his axe back in his belt, "why not stop hoying boxes about and come down and we'll have a chat, civilised like." For good measure he tries the same line in Dawi. Turning back to the warehouse door he yells "Lass, Sarge, yer alright to come in, just watch your heads, not a troll after all." "Buggered if I know what it is mind," he adds to himself frowning up in to the shadows.

"Flaming comets!" growls Esker as he feels his boots slip on the oily floor. "Stay back the rest 'o you, an keep those lanterns and torches away we've got lamp oil all over the floor in 'ere."

Feeling slightly guilty at not having warned them about the slick of oil, Gunnar nods at the new arrivals, keeping one eye on the top of the stack of crates. "Some sort o' little gnome thing it is, or perhaps a greenskin, but not like the regular ones. Them warehouse boys know if there's a way up on top o' them boxes?"

"It's not a gnome, Master Dwarf." An authoritative voice interrupts the conversation from the direction of the street and you all turn to see a rather short figure with dishevelled hair standing silhouetted in the warehouse door. "In fact, it's a goblin. Surprised you didn't recognize it to be honest though I am reliably informed it's a rare breed. 'Scabby Eye Tribe' one of the few goblin tribes still haunting the Black Gulf. Disappointing really I had hoped for a rat." There were jeers from the crowd to the left of the door "Stay outa this ratman, its got nuffin ta do wiv. you." and a few missiles were launched forcing the small man to duck. The Watchmen reacted quickly to push back the crowd and prevent them closing in on the figure in the doorway.

Having avoided the flurry of missiles the short figure at the door returns to Gunnar's original question "As for surmounting the boxes Master Dwarf if you stand around long enough I'm sure the Goblin will oblige by hurling enough of them at you that you will be able to reach the top. But the stevedores tell me the more usual method is to stand on a cart." There is another flurry of missiles and someone from the crowd shouts "You betta shut yer gob ratman, this ain't got nuffin ta do wiv you."

Esker walks gingerly back towards the door trying not to slip "Mebbe! You should make yerself scarce Groffnung. Yer not doing yerself any favours sticking yer oar in here. As you said yersen it's not a rat so no need fer you to get involved."

Groffnung shrugs "Just trying to be helpful Sergeant seeing as I'm the only one here who seems to speak Tilly. They're quite keen to get it back alive by the way. Reckon their patron will pay a decent reward for its recapture unharmed. Though it appears that at the moment he too has also gone missing which is why they are without a translator."

"Yer sure it's a goblin then? Bugger's scrawny even for one o' them. Still, shouldn't be a problem, give us a leg up onto these crates will yer?" Grinning cheerfully back at Esker and Sali, Gunnar scrambles up on to the pile of boxes. "Wait on Sarge, be back with his head in a moment." Gunnar asks Sali and the Watch Sergeant to give him a boost to the top of the lowest section of crates. Esker steps forward and cupping his hands lifts Gunnar up until he can reach the top of the crates. There is a brief struggle as Esker takes the weight of the heavily muscled dwarf but Gunnar eventually manages to get his elbows over the lip of the crates and hauls himself over the edge. He finds himself laying on a crate of apples with just enough headroom to stand upright, though the crates under his feet don't feel very stable and the thin wooden slats that make up their top surface buckle under his weight. Gunnar has a short platform of crates 2' wide and 10' long. To his right is an 8' drop back to the warehouse floor. Whilst to his left and front is another layer of crates 2' tall that reduce the headroom to from 5' to 3' and behind him is the front wall of the warehouse. The creature seems to have retreated into the far corner of the warehouse and is gibbering to itself apparently aware of Gunnars presence and determined to stay out of his reach.

"Hehehe! Fancy meeting you again. Our paths seem destined to cross don't they." Sali looks up into the face of the reporter she met in the Watch Station earlier. "I understand from our friend here" he says gesturing at Groffnung "that there is a goblin infestation." He smirks triumphantly "Smuggled into the city by a halfling no less." he adds impishly watching Sali's reaction, before leaning forward conspiratorily to ask "As a member of the nobility and of course a loyal Sigmarite, how do you feel about these halflings undermining the security of our city?" his crayon poised for a quote from Sali.

Grumbling and cursing Gunnar gets to his feet, trying his best to balance on the thicker timbers forming the frames of the crates. He gingerly makes his way along the tops of the boxes towards the back wall of the warehouse. When he reaches the higher row of crates he hauls himself up on to his belly, ignoring the splinters from the rough wooden slats, and peers in to the corner where the creature is cowering, trying to figure out exactly what it is he's facing, and how dangerous it looks. Now laying more or less flat on the top of the crates, Gunnar can just about crawl but there is no room to swing an axe. To his right, there is a drop of ten feet to the floor of the warehouse, but at least the crates feel more stable now his weight is evenly distributed across them. When he tries to move Gunnar finds that his clothing and equipment keep catching on things like exposed nails and crate corners making rapid progress awkward and frustrating. The creature is now about ten feet away still huddled in the far corner of the warehouse. It seems to be naked and clearly isn't a troll or a goblin. It's difficult to judge its size as like Gunnar it is laying flat and has jammed itself into a small defensive ball, but it must be close to the size of a manling. Its skin is dark and it stares at Gunnar through bright yellowy-orange eyes from an ugly man-like face. Also unlike most goblins Gunnar has seen it has a shaggy matted head of black hair which it appears to have greased and tried to arrange in the cocks comb almost as if trying to mimic Gunnars hair style. As far as Gunnar can tell it doesn't have any weapons and there are no obvious claws visible though when it hisses at him Gunnar can see what look like small fangs in its mouth that might inflict a nasty bite. It doesn't look particularly strong in fact if anything it looks pretty emaciated and scrawny.

"Buggered if it looks like any sort o' goblin," mutters Gunnar, staring at the thing in the corner of the warehouse. "Sali, Sarge, think yer'd better ask them warehouse boys where the hell this little bugger popped out from. And what the 'eck it is. Don't look like no greenskin," he yells down to the unseen floor below, unaware that Salundra is on the street outside. Then turning back to the creature and doing his level best to sound friendly "Oi come out from there fella, no need for all the carry on, sure we can be pals." Dice Roll Success

Gunnar hears Eskers voice from the aisle below even though he can't see him. "Oi! Groffnung. The dwarf reckons the creature don't look like a goblin are you sure you 'eard right?" he shouts "Check with those Tilean's again an ask 'em where it came from 'an all."

You hear Groffnung call back defensively "They reckon it's a Hab Gäblən, which I'm pretty sure means goblin in Tilly talk. But they keep saying it's rare and really valuable. This halfling bought it in Matorca and had them sail it all around the coast to get here. Not sure what 'hab' means."

"Not a clue lass," Gunnar shouts back down to Sali, "it ain't for coming out and telling us neither." The battle fury that descended on the slayer at the thought of a troll or greenskin has dissipated a little and he begins to think more clearly. "Not the toughest looking though. Reckon any o' us can grab him if we've got a clear shot. How precious are these crates Sarge? Going to be trouble if a few more get smashed?" Gunnar's plan is to push the topmost crates off the stack one at a time, so that he can advance up towards the creature on his feet rather than crawling on his belly. He hopes this will let him grab it and wrestle it down to the ground. If the creature makes a break for it Sali and Esker are covering the door out of the warehouse. Dice Roll Success

Gunnar hears Esker respond to his question "If that thing is a goblin, or anything like then this whole warehouse will need cleansing, and anything it touched burned."

With a grunt, Gunnar pushes himself off the crate he is lying on, dropping back to his feet and feeling the timbers of the crate beneath him bending beneath his weight. "Well he don't look the most vicious o' beasts, but wouldn't take any chances lass, stick 'im if yer have to," Gunnar shouts back down to Sali, then taking a grip of the frame of the crate in front of him, "mind yer heads down there!" Flexing his muscles he heaves the wooden box down to the warehouse floor below; as it smashes on the ground he can already imagine the complaints of the merchant. Gunnar heaves the first of the apple crates over the edge of the stack and it falls with a loud crash to the floor. The creature flinches at the sudden noise. Gunnar moves two feet closer and heaves the next crate over the side. The creature is now clearly agitated as there are now only two more crates between it and Gunnar and it's beginning to feel trapped.

Gunnar hears Esker shout up "Do you need any help, is it working?"

"Just be ready to catch the little git if he slips by," Gunnar shouts down to the two on the warehouse floor. Wiping the sweat from his brow he turns back to the next crate, clenching his jaw with the effort of shifting it.

The small dangerous-looking creature threw yet another of the strange loot chests to the floor of the cave and Oku hissed at it again. Warning it to keep away but the red-haired thing kept coming closer. Oku realized that time was running out and there were only two options for escape. The red-haired creature was almost within reach and what at first, had seemed like a safe refuge had now become a trap. But the strange cave full of loot chests only had two exits one through the ceiling and the other at the far end of the passage, Oku could see light beyond the latter exit whilst the one above led into the darkness where perhaps even more beasts prowled. Better to head for the light it thought. Gathering its resolve Oku resigned itself to fate and the care of the gods and lept for the gap between the creature and the cave wall on the right. Trying to time it for the moment the creature was distracted by throwing another loot chest to the floor below and had its back turned. dice roll The creature suddenly made a break for the four-foot gap between Gunnar and the sidewall of the warehouse. It had waited until Gunnar was in the process of heaving another crate of apples off the stack and Gunnar was slow to react, he threw himself at the creature and almost managed to grab its foot as it slithered past hugging the wall to stay out of Gunnars reach and headed as fast as it could towards the front of the warehouse. (Oku -4 SL, Gunnar -5 SL)

Too slow to react to the creature's sudden move, Gunnar curses and shouts to Sali and Esker to look out. Scrambling to turn round on the precarious stack of crates he sets off in pursuit of the thing, back towards the front of the warehouse.

Oku realized it had made a mistake as soon as it began making its way towards the light. The red-haired monster was much faster moving along the lower path where it could stand upright than Oku was crawling on its belly along the top. It was simply keeping pace with every move Oku made and now Oku had to press itself against the cave wall to stay out of reach. Oku cursed the gods for abandoning it but realized there was going to be no easy escape. Even if it tried to go back and choose the dangerous-looking passage into the darkened upper cavern the monster would merely match its movement and block Oku's escape route. Oku felt its bowels loosen as it realized what it must do. There was no other way to reach the light than over the monster's head. With a dreadful scream, Oku launched itself at the head of the monster intent on pushing it out of the way and allowing itself to drop naturally onto the cave floor beyond. Gunnar heads back along the crates easily keeping pace with the creature crawling along the sidewall towards the front of the warehouse. They are vnearly at the front wall when suddenly with a blood curdling scream the creature tries to launch itself at Gunnars head.

Gunnar begins to shout a warning as the creature springs, but it comes out as a strangled yell as the strange beast is already on him. Instinctively he tries to tackle it with both arms as it leaps towards him. Dice Roll Failed

The monster wasn't expecting Oku to be so determined and for once the gods smiled. Oku threw itself at the monster's head and pushed with all its strength trying to topple it off the ledge and roll with it onto the floor of the cave below. The thing tried to raise its arms to fend off the attack but was far too slow. dice roll There was a desperate scramble as the creature tried to force Gunnar backwards off the stack of crates and Gunnar tried to push the creature back and maintain his balance. But in the end the creature managed to find enough purchase amongst the crates it was laying on to push Gunnar backwards and with nothing to grip on the unstable ledge Gunnar felt himself toppling backwards over the edge with the creature still trying to climb over his head.

Overbalancing as the weight of the creature hits him, Gunnar desperately fails for purchase. Gunnar desperately tries to grab a handhold on the apple crates lining the ledge but the creature continues to push him backwards and his fingers fail to find a secure purchase. As he topples backwards he drags the creature with him, sliding it off the top of the crates it's laying on, whilst the creature continues to try to pull itself over his head. On the floor below Esker and Sali have been listening to Gunnars efforts in the darkness at the far end of the warehouse poised to intercept anything that made a dash for the door. The sudden reappearance of Gunner on the ledge above them quickly drew their attention but they were not expecting the sudden appearance of the dark creature directly overhead nor the hazard of a falling dwarf.

Oku felt a moment of elation as it sensed the monster lose its balance and begin to topple over the ledge. It's working Oku thought as it gathered itself for the leap towards the light. It vaguely noticed two surprised faces looking up from below that it hadn't expected to be there but gods willing the monster's body will scatter them and avoid any interference in its escape.

Oku lands with a jarring thump on top of the monster and already poised for action leaps off the body and heads for the light. Thanking the gods for their blessing freedom is just a few feet away.

Rolling off the stricken Esker and to his feet, Gunnar glances anxiously over at Sali. Seeing her on her feet, if not exactly unruffled, he sets off in pursuit of the creature, yelling a warning to anyone still lingering outside the warehouse door.

Oku rushes into the light but as its eyes adjust to the glare any hope of liberty was dashed. Where were the trees? Where were the mountains? Instead of freedom, it found itself in a small clearing surrounded by hordes of savage humans. Hundreds of them all baying for blood and fighting with each other for the chance to kill it. The first instinct was to run back into the cave but Oku knew the monster was in there waiting for it. The only other gap in the circle of enemies was blocked by the great waters of the river and Oku couldn't swim. Oku screamed in frustration and cursed its gods "Why?" dice roll

Even as it raged Uko was attacked. Three missiles flew from the crowd, two missed completely but the third struck it hard on the back making it wince with pain. Oku turned and saw the three creatures it recognized from the cave where it had been trapped for so long. The ones who had captured it and brought it to this terrible place.

Wincing in the daylight, Gunnar can see only a blur of activity, but makes out the silhouette of the thing, frozen in place. Bruised and angry from being unceremoniously thrown from the crates, he puts his head down and charges at the creatures back, aiming to tackle it to the ground with both arms. Dice Roll Failed

Oku was still trying to process the horror of its situation when the monster from the cave barrelled into it from behind knocking it to the ground and pinning it in place. There was a mighty roar of triumph from the crowd of savages in their green and brown headdresses.

Esker finally emerges from the warehouse looking a bit the worse for wear and with one hand rubbing a painful spot where Gunnars elbow hand caught him just below his breastplate. He quickly sizes up the situation and confirms Sali's orders "Muller, Weiker, Kassenwart, keep those Fish back, use force if you have to." he growls "Pell! Knakk! Escort these tillies back to the station and tell Inga I want a statement explaining how their pet ended up in Oldenhallers warehouse." He glances around assessing the situation further. He spots an elderly-looking man amongst the crowd of onlookers with the blue and gray caps and beckons to him "Ok! Karl you'd better get your men organized and start emptying this warehouse. I want everything dragged out and burned. We don't know how much that things contaminated. An' no trying to save stuff for the black market. if there's another infestation I'll hold you and your mates responsible is that clear." As Karl began to organize his men there was a fresh explosion of jeering from the men in the green caps penned back by the halberds of the three watchmen assigned to keep them under control. Esker points to one of them accusingly "An if I find out you were behind this Fleisher I'll have you cleaning the streets for a month. Is that clear." Fleischer's face takes on an exaggerated look of innocence "Me Sergeant?" he exclaims in a hurt tone. "I'm just 'ere fer the show. Nuffin to do wiv' us is its boys." There is a burst of laughter and sniggering from amongst the crowd of green-capped spectators. But one of the Tileans looks at the man that Esker has singled out and begins yabbering excitedly at the Watch Sergeant. "Riconoza chy era in giro pour la noztra barca il griorno prima chy habgabblin fos rubato." he exclaims excitedly pointing at Fleisher who rapidly backs away and disappears into the crowd.

Taken aback by the sudden appearance of the Tileans, Gunnar resists the urge to ask where they’ve been up to now. “What the bloody hell is this thing?” he yells at the nearest foreigner. Realising he wouldn’t understand the answer anyway, he turns to the other two. “Sali? Sarge? Yer ever see owt like this before? Oh, and err, sorry about that...” he belatedly realises the Sergeant is still winded from Gunnar’s heavy landing. The Tileans are busy securing the creatures arms and hobbling its ankles but one of them glances up at Gunnar and shrugs "Gratzy! Gratzy! see stato di grand aeuto." he says with a grin. As the Tileans finish binding the creature two of Esker's watchmen arrive to escort the Tileans and the creature back to the watch station. Sali seems to be taking charge of crowd control though as the creature is led away the crowd starts to thin and disperse naturally. Whilst the dockers in the blue and grey caps reluctantly muster themselves to start clearing the warehouse of stock.

Esker wanders over "You're eavier than you look Master Dwarf." he says with a grin "Still better to land on me than the stone floor I suppose. Thought you might recognize what that thing was. I've not sen anything like it before but I'm taking no chances Gronffnung insists the tillies are saying it's some sort of goblin."

Drago hurries over notepad and crayon poised for action "Any comment for the Spieler Sergeant?" he asks "I understand that creature was smuggled into the city by a Halfling who has since disappeared. Do you think this is another Halfling plot?"

"Can't say it looks like any regular kind of greenskin," Gunnar replies, watching the scrawny creature carried away and feeling a pang of sympathy. "What happens to it now?"

Esker shrugs "Groffnung said summat about it belonging to a halfling. Inga might find out more when she takes their statement."

Gunnar’s head is still reeling from the sudden turn of events. The mention of a halfling reminds him that they were on their way to the Mermaid to talk to the halfling kitchen maid. His sodden clothes and sore elbow from landing on the sergeant’s breastplate make the thought of a warm kitchen particularly appealing. “Aye, seems they’ve their fingers in all sorts of pies,” Gunnar nods to Sali. “What halfling would this be then?” he asks Esker, “Just on our way to the pub to have a word wi’ the lass o’ young fella who got himself killed as it happens.”

Esker scratches his head "Don't remember Groffnung mentioning a name." he admits glancing around to see if he can see the agitator anywhere to ask. But it seems he has wandered off "But whoever it was supposedly disappeared soon after the goblin was taken. Maybe they'll find out more from these Tillies at the station.".

"Perhaps it did a runner as soon as it had hidden its infectious goblin in the warehouse. What do you think Sergeant?" added Drago crayon at the ready for another scoop.

Vedris smiled disarmingly and shrugged "Merely a hypothesis based on the facts your ladyship. Obviously, if you have an alternative opinion I shall be happy to hear it."

Vedris smiles at the response and bows slightly "Of course your ladyship. Very professional I'm sure. But now I must beg your leave because I really ought to see if these Tilean's can shed any more light on the person behind these events." and with that, he stows his notepad and pencil and stalks off towards the Watch Station.

“Don’t half harp on does that lad, well handled,” Gunnar says to Sali, watching the journalist depart. “Now what? Looks like there’ll be a bit of a show with these tillies down at station, but we’d have to leave the lass at the Mermaid ‘til another time.” Gunnar thinks it over, his curiosity about the strange not-goblin competing with the urge for a pint and a warm fire.

Gunnar wipes his runny nose and wrings a little more rainwater out of his jerkin. "Feeling a lot better for a bit of a scrap lass, what say we follow on to station and see what they can make o' that thing?" 18th day of Kaldezeit, 2507 IC Angestag (Start Week)
Time: Late Evening
Weather: (Sleet) As the sun begins to set the temperature drops and the freezing rain resumes.
Gunnar heads off up the street in the direction of the Watch Station with Sali following on his heels. The freezing rain helping to disperse the rest of the crowd around the warehouse whilst bringing the work to clear it to a virtual halt. They arrive at the Watch station to find it once more crowded with people trying to shelter from the cold. But there is no sign of Vedris or the creature. The three Tilean's are clustered around a female watch person jabbering madly and waving their hands about but she clearly can't understand a word they are saying.

“Can’t help wi’ that, struggle to understand regular umgi most o’ time.” Catching the watch woman’s eye, Gunnar shouts over the Tileans. “We’re after a couple o’ watchmen came in here with a, well, sort of a goblin type thing, only not. Scrawny creature, lots o’ black hair.”

Inga glances over at Sali and Gunnar and shrugs "Dunno what I'm supposed to do with these three, but that creature they brought with them is locked in one of the cells." From the stairwell leading down to the cells, you can hear a man with a cultured Wissenland accent complaining in a loud voice. “How dare you keep me incarcerated in here with this disgusting creature, don’t you know who I am? I’ll have you thrashed man! Thrashed!” One of the watchmen appears at the top of the stairs and catches Inga's attention "That southerners moaning again!" "I can hear." growls Inga "Tell im if he don't stop bein' gobby, we'll put im in the same cell wiv the creature. That should keep im quiet. The Captain said he'd deal with im personal so best leave ‘im to it, eh?” Inga turns back to the three Tileans who are still gibbering nonsense and waving their hands about madly. "Does anyone in here understand this lingo?" calls Inga clearly exasperated. "Am I supposed to be arresting 'em or wot?"

Inga frowns "Oi! Pell!" she calls "Did Sarge say what to do wiv these Tileans?" Pell just shrugs "Take a statement he said." "Fat chance o' that" she groans before suddenly realizing that Sali had asked her a question "Who?" she pauses to let her head clear "Oh! You mean 'is lordship in the cells." Inga grinned "Arrested in the street of a thousand taverns trying to catch a doxy with a whip and 'is breeches around his ankles. The Captain said 'e'd deal wiv it. Some 'o these Morogen types don't know 'ow ter behave in a civilized society." "Don't suppose you speak Tillie does yer Captain?"

Inga pondered Sali's idea "Good idea Captain." she finally agrees "Though I doubt many dockers wud speak Tillie. One o' the shipping agents might if they deal in Tilean goods. Then again it might be easier to see if the Tilean Embassay 'as a translator or grab someone from little tillie."

"That's true! by the time you get there, it will be dark and they'll 'ave probly put the shutters ups. Also, I doubt anyone'll want to traipse over here in this weather just ta work out what some sailer are jabbering about." "Oi! What are you up to?" Inga suddenly demands as she realizes that the three Tileans have wandered off and seem to be talking to someone else in the room. Sali and Gunnar follow her gaze and discover that Drago Vedris has reappeared this time with another studious looking individual in his company who appears to be talking with the Tileans.

Drago glances up at being hailed by Inga "Nothing to worry about officer. Just interviewing these witnesses to see if they have anything to add to the story of the mysterious creature discovered in the Oldenhaller warehouse. We'll be out of your way in a trice, don't worry." he laughs nervously.

"Want that nosey bugger getting rid of?" enquires Gunnar of the watch woman, nodding at Vedris.

Inga gives Gunnar a wicked grin and clearly considers his offer before replying to Vedris "Peraps! Herr Vedris you'd be prepared ta' share yer understandin of what's goin on wiv the rest of us. It is our job after all." she says between gritted teeth and a fake smile.

Drago Vedris grins back at Inga and completes a small bow "Of Course! Of Course!" he utters ingratiatingly in a silky condescending tone "The Altdorf Spieler is always happy to assist the brave men and women of the watch." He clears his throat and refers to his notepad. "According to my notes, these three gentlemen are Tilean seamen from......" he flicks through some pages "Matorca. Can't say I've ever heard of the place but my colleague here tells me that its a port city on the coast of The black Gulf. Wherever that is." he giggles to at his own ignorance and Inga rolls her eyes "Anyway they say they were hired by a halfling called...." and again he begins flicking through notes "Elderberry,...Bernhardt Elderberry, to transport a goblinoid creature along with a number of other specimens from Matorca to Altdorf. Their boat is apparently moored in the Reiksport." he adds pointing distractedly in the direction of the main shipping port to the south of the city. "Needless, to say a boat full of strange creatures caused a bit off a stir upon docking but apparently the halfling dealt with the authorities and the paperwork and the crew were expecting their cargo to be unloaded and to be paid for their services when the goblinoid creature simply disappeared during the night along with the halfling." Vedris shrugs "And that's about it really. The goblin turned up this evening in the Oldenhaller Warehouse just down the quay, but the halfling is still missing, probably in hiding somewhere and these three Tileans are left with a boatload of creatures and no payment for all their effort." Vedris pauses and refers once again to his notes "Yes! That's about it. These poor seamen are obviously considerably out of pocket and have no idea who to approach about payment or delivery."

Inga frowns "So, they're expectin us ta' find this halfling 'Bernhardt Elderberry', who owes 'em money. Is that the gist of it?"

Vedris chuckles "Pretty much. Concise and to the point as always." he agrees. His companion looks a bit surprised at Drago's response but keeps quiet.

Inga shrugs "Not really our problem, as long as these coves don't try an dump their cargo ta' cut their losses."

"Yer don't mean to say there's a whole ship load o' goblins and such sitting at docks do yer?", Gunnar looks at Inga aghast.

"That's wot Vedris just said isn't it?...Well creatures anyways."

Vedris looks up as he hears Inga mention his name "Err! Yes thats what they claim. A boat full of creatures collected by this halfling character Elderberry." he giggles again as though sharing some personal joke with himself "Anyway, you seem to have everything in hand. Luigi and I shall leave your duties and return to the office. I need to make a start on tomorrow's copy for the Altdorf Spieler and warn the population of this new threat to their safety."

"Hang about, yer pal's the only one as can speak Tilly, so the two o' yer can just stick around and do your civic duty by the watch right?" says Gunnar, glaring at Vedris. "What sort o' creatures are we talking here?" he directs this question at the reporter's companion. "The one in cells don't look like no goblin, but he certainly ain't friendly. What do the Tileans say it is?" Turning to Sali and Inga, "And like lass says, shouldn't a ship full to brim with goblin things be under guard? Or better yet under water?" Dice Roll Success

Vedris halts in his tracks and turns to face Gunnar "Master dwarf." he sighs reluctantly "Luigi and I do not work for the watch, we work for the Altdorf Spieler and we have duties to perform and deadlines to meet." he says rather pompously. But under Gunnars angry stare his resolve seems to melt and he giggles nervously "However, never let it be said that Drago Vedris was anything but supportive of the city authorities in their battle against crime." he declares reluctantly "What exactly did you want to know and I'll see what Luigi can find out?"

"Right, first of all yer can ask them Tillies just what the thing in the cells is, and how dangerous. And what about the boat? Going to be a bunch more the same or what? And what did this halfling want with 'em all anyhow?" Running out of steam a little Gunnar looks over to Sali to see if she has any more to ask. There is a brief exchange of gibberish between the Tileans and then a whispered exchange between Luigi and Vedris before he finally replies.

Vedris clears his throat and takes an officious attitude "Apparently the creature in the cells is what you would probably call a Hobgoblin. Though it's from one of the more savage tribes that frequent the shores of The Black Gulf. The Tilean's say it's part of a varied shipment of creatures including a giant bat, a large wolf, several small goblins and something they call a squig or cave wolf. It seems the halfling was particularly interested in creatures with the ability to see in the dark. He claimed there was a market for specimens in Altdorf."

"Hob-goblin yer say? Not heard o' them before, some special manner o 'goblin they have down south is it? Still, what's good for one of 'em is good for t'other." Gunnar nods at Inga and looses his axe from his belt. Now he knows the creature is a greenskin, albeit a not particularly green one, the course of action is clear. "Be back with its head in a moment, then we can see about the rest of the buggers on this Tilly boat." He makes to head for the cells, axe drawn.

"Ere! hang on yer not killing stuff in my cells Master Dwarf it's bad enough cleaning the shit off the floor without blood 'an gore as well. Side's that things evidence so leave it be."

"But it's a bloody greenskin! Yer let one alone and yer'll have a swarm of the buggers soon enough. And it's already escaped once!"

"Exactly, which is why I don't want you spreadin' bits of it all over my cellblock." Inga snaps at Gunnar "Find out where they were plannin' ta deliver it so I can get rid of it." she suggests "An find out wot dicked in the nob idiot thought it would be a good idea ta bring a boat loada' greenskin's into a city."

Inga's attention is drawn to the sudden intervention of the lady in the big hat and she makes a visible effort to calm herself before replying. "Thanks!" she replies sheepishly "Ideally we wanna get that boat outa the city sharpish an' burn it on the flats well downstream where it can't do no damage."

Grateful for Sali's intervention, Gunnar nods to her, the thought of a pint somewhere without goblins and journalists is appealing. "Well if come tomorrow there's an empty cell and a goblin on the loose, can't say yer weren't warned," he says over his shoulder to Inga, as he makes to leave.

Vedris clears his throat nervously "Can I assume then that you are done with our services and I can get back to my office?"

Gunnar starts at Drago's question, with his mind already on ale. "Aye, that'll be all ta," he replies, before thinking further. "Unless o' course there's any more yer'd like to share with us now lad? Would be a shame if yer forgot to mention something that come up later on, that sort o' thing could look suspicious like..."

Vedris giggles nervously "Not that I'm aware of." he replies "Though I must say it has been most enlightening. Not just one goblin but a whole barge full no less. Who would have suspected the extent of this halflings plan to create mayhem across the city. It is a much bigger story than I thought. I must think of a suitably dramatic headline." 18th day of Kaldezeit, 2507 IC Angestag (Start Week)
Time: Dusk
Weather: (Heavy Rain) The sleet has given way to a heavy downpour of freezing rain.
Sali and Gunnar make their way to the door only to discover that the cold sleet has once more been replaced by a heavy downpour of freezing rain. Fortunately, The Mermaid Tavern is quite close by and a quick dash along the street brings you to the main entrance of the warehouse-like building. You walk into a room that smells of pipeweed, tar and burnt fat and make your way to the bar on the far side of the room shaking off as much rainwater as possible.

"Back so soon." notes Trotz "not got yer posse this time though I notice."

Shaking the rain out of his hair, Gunnar grunts "Ales. Two." "Eh, couldn't let us back in yer kitchen could yer? It's right parky out and could do with warming up."

Trotz shakes his head "Staff only" he nods to the hearths at each end of the room "but yer welcome ta squeeze into the scrum around the fireplaces." he places two large tankards of ale on the bar."filthy weather shunt be surprised if we don't get some snow at this rate. Not a time ta be walking around wirout a cloak and that's a fact." he adds.

"The rain's a mixed blessing. Brings 'em in off the street but discourages others from making the journey. Bruno and Gebbard are around here somewhere. I think Bruno's outback 'avin a smoke an' Gebbards checking the barrels." As he speaks a small halfling bumps her way through the door from the kitchen into the bar area carrying two steaming bowls of some sort of delicious smelling broth and makes her way over to one of the tables to deliver it. "The hot foods selling well though 'an that's a fact."

Gunnar’s eye, or rather his nose, is drawn by the stew. He nudges Sali’s leg to draw her attention. “Send that lass over with a couple o’ bowls o’ broth and all would yer? We’ll look for a spot by the fire.” OOC: Unless Sali has more questions for the barkeep Gunnar will try and find somewhere out of earshot to ask the serving girl a few questions, if indeed she is the murder victim’s sweetheart.

"Who said it 'ad any meat in it in the first place." grins Trott "Two bowls comin' right up." He sticks his head in the Kitchen "Hey! Petal...two more bowls of the stew fer the lady in the big hat. and her dwarf." Sali and Gunnar find a spare table as close to one of the hearths as possible and Gunnar lets the heat seep into his bones as he drinks his ale and waits for his food. The tables around them are packed with dockyard workers playing cards or bones and there is a general hubbub of conversation, pipeweed smoke and body odor. A couple of minutes pass before Petal finally bumps her way through the kitchen door again carrying your stew and looking for Sali's hat make her way over to you.

Petal deftly places a steaming bowl of stew in front of Sali and Gunnar and quickly pops a wooden spoon from her apron pocket next to both bowls. "There ya go!" she quips "Enjoy. Did ya want any salt or peppa?"

"Wiv me own fair 'ands yer ladyship" Petal replies, grinding some salt and pepper into Sali's bowl from the wooden grinders hanging from her belt. "How about you mister dwarf?"

"Same lass. Looks a good bowl. Petal isn't it? Yer been working here for long lass?"

Petal stares at the ceiling pondering the dwarf's question "Bout six month, since the summer anyways." she finally answers.

Petal nods "Gets a bit boisterous at times, but the boys look after me." she says smiling at the muscled dockers clustered around the nearby tables.

Petal looks impressed "Nothing like that, thank Esmerelda. Leastways not since Werna banned Tarwin Fleisher from the bar. Course! I don't have a nice hunky dwarf bodyguard ta save me.! Though Faustmann wud probably 'elp." she nodded at a huge muscle-bound brute with broth dribbling down his chin on a nearby table who just grunts and gives her a gap-toothed grin. "Did it 'urt?" she asks "The knife in the ribs I mean."

Gunnar nods at the mention of his name, spoonful of stew halfway to his mouth, and steam rising from his drying clothes. As he listens admiringly to Sali’s silver tongue he keeps an eye on the big men gathered around the fire. Has the mention of Fleischer made anyone’s ears prick up? Do any of these brutes look familiar from the warehouse, or the weeks of unrest on the docks? OOC: rolling for observation! Dice Roll Failed

"Tarwin?" Petal exclaims "'E's a thoroughly bad man. "E was always round here causing trouble. It's been much quieter since Werner barred him and his mates." Gunnar scans the room but none of the characters seated around him look familiar and the fish tattoo is noticeably absent from their skin replaced instead by an apparently random assortment of runes and glyphs that appear to have no common theme.

"Jus' the usual" Petal quips offhandedly "Causin' fights an' the like. He likes ta' show off in front of his mates, runs wiv the fish and likes ta' think 'e's the boss. Typical male behavior. But 'e took the 'int 'an don't come in 'ere anymore."

Petal looks puzzled and then burst out laughing "Burning buns hoo told you that?" she giggles "'ave you seen Tarwin Fleisher?" she splutters "'e's this great big muscle-bound thug. 'Sides 'e's a man t'wudn't be natural." she grimaces at the thought. "Nah! It don't take much to upset Tarwin but 'e's more likely to thump you fer wearing the wrong colour than cos' yer talking to me. in fact, I doubt 'e even knows I exist."

Gunnar grins to himself at the misunderstanding, and the mental image. “Think the lass were talking about yer being courted by a couple of fellas more your own size? Though come to mention it, what d’yer mean about Herr Fleischer and wearing the wrong colour? Some kind o’ scrap between different clans?”

Petal cocks her head at the dwarf "Halfling's yer mean?" "Yer know it's not insulting to call us what we are Master Dwarf. But I am insulted that yer thinks theirs only two. I reckon I cud 'ave me pick 'o the male halflings in this city, an a few more besides." she says with a cheeky grin. "Which two was yer thinking on?" "As fer colours, well yer'd 'ave ta be blind not ta notice that the rival gangs on the docks wear different colours."

"You've bin talking to Hero 'aven't you?" Petal said grinning at Sali "Either that or Sir 'wotisface' Applebag. According to them I should be insisting that you kneel when you talk to me. Good job yer sitting down really 'an that Hero isn't about or I'd be gettin' earache fer even talking to you."

"Not sure about dwarfs to be 'onest." says Petal "but we ain't supposed to talk to humans unless they are on their knee's an' Hero is a stickler for the rules. We're not supposed to talk, or trade, or cook, or serve any big folk who don't do it." the last part of her reply sounded like she was reading from memory. "Like I can afford to stop working."

Gunnar opens his mouth to explain that the long history of Grudges against the elves is not comparable to some halfling squabble, but thinks better of it. "So yer not a follower o' young Hiero's way o' doing things then? Still that don't seem to have put him off'f yer."

"You don't know much about halflings do you Mister Dwarf." Petal giggles "Female halflings don't follow males. they follow us." she shrugs "But Hero keeps comin' round 'ere every now and then to beg me to support the Lodge. He reckons he's protecting me, but I'd rather rely on Faustmann." "'an lets face it 'is principles 'ain't going to feed my family." she adds wiping her hands on her apron. "He is determined though, I'll give 'im that much." Sali notices that Bruno and Gebbard are back behind the bar and serving customers again. Bruno seems curious about the conversation taking place at your table and keeps glancing over.

"I jus' stay outa 'is way. 'E's trouble that one." acknowledges Petal "I warned Hugo to do the same but 'e reckoned 'e could 'andle it." She looks over at the bar nervously "I better get back to work." she says picking up some empty tankards from a nearby table.

"Now 'old on a moment," Gunnar slurps down the last of his stew, "yer can give us a refill of you're on you're way back the bar." Lowering his voice and keeping one eye on the curios barman, he adds, "So your pal Hugo tangled with someone he shouldn't eh? Nasty business. How're yer coping?"

Petal reaches for the bowl "Of course Master Dwarf, it will be my pleasure." she says loudly. Then adds "Hugo was a dreamer, always reckoned 'e was about t'make it big. I told 'im 'e was taking too many risks, but 'e wouldn't listen." she adds sadly turning to return to the kitchen, "Did you want another bowl yer ladyship?" she asks Sali.

“Aye lass, another ale would be grand and all.” Gunnar turns to Sali, and mutters. “Keep an eye on that fella at the bar, looks like he’s summat to say to our Petal. Dunno about you but this is some mess we’ve landed in. Looks like there were folks lining up to do poor Hugo in, reckon we need to find this Fleischer fella?”

Petal wanders off to get two more bowls of stew and to refill your tankards of ale.

"Aye, let's make these our last sup for the night," nods Gunnar, still watching Petal's course through the crowded bar room.

A few minutes later Petal is back carefully carrying two steaming bowls of stew and two refilled tankards of ale. "Enjoy. Did ya want any salt or peppa?"

Gunnar takes a swig from the new tankard and wipes his beard; not the finest ale in truth, even by umgi standards. Although it doesn't seem to be dissuading Sali. "Don't reckon we're going to get owt more from lass, do you? Let's finish off this swill and try our pal Tarwin Fleischer on the morrow." He winces again at the ale and tucks in to the stew.

"Ya! Welcome" smiles Petal before trotting off back to the kitchen, still watched suspiciously by Bruno from behind the bar.

"Same agin! No problem mistress." says Petal collecting the empty tankards and heading for the bar.

Gunnar groans internally at the order of another ale. But on the other hand it’s warm in the tavern and there are no strange half-goblins throwing things at him. “Well why not eh, s’not like we’re making much progress on this one sober. Bloody dockers and goblins and halflings, least we ain’t had an elf.”

Petal returns momentarily with your third tankards of ale "Are ya done with the stew?" she asks reaching to collect the empty bowls and spoons. Bruno is currently distracted by a customer and no longer watching your table, in fact, he leads the customer out of the back door onto the quay overlooking the river.

Petal overhears Sali's comment and instinctively glances over towards the bar, looking back quickly when she notices that Werner and Gotthard are still there. "Another top-up?" she asks trying to look busy by wiping down the table.

Gunnar gestures with his empty tankard for another ale. ”Seems to have their eyes on yer, them lads at bar. More admirers is it?” he asks Petal.

Petal bites her lower lip and ponders Sali's question "We don't get much call fer wine in 'ear yer ladyship." she admits "I think we 'ave a few bottles in the cellar though. I can 'ave a look if you'd like, but you'd 'ave ta buy a bottle. I couldn't open one for just one glass." Petal looks over to the bar again briefly "Not interested in long-legs, they're too...." she paused trying to think of the right word "....bossy." she finally decided.

"No? Well they're interested in yer right enough, 'specially that one as disappeared out back just now. Wouldn't s'pose any o' yer mates at the bar would know a bit more about poor Hugo would they? Or about the other poor buggers that've been washing up?"

Petal chuckles at the dwarf's suggestion "Them's not interested in me, Master Dwarf. Them's interested in you and her ladyship here. I reckon their ears is flapping 'cos I'm spendin' too long yappin' wiv' you." she picks up your tankards and prepares to leave and get you another refill "You can ask 'em about Hugo if yer like, no skin off me nose if you do. But if they did know anything I doubt they'd tell you,"

Gunnar glances over at Sali through a slight haze of ale, and nods. Between the booze and the warm fire driving the rain out of his clothes he feels ready to call it a night. By mutual consent, Sali and Gunnar rise from the table and collecting their possessions head for the door. As they do so a group of dockers detaches itself from the bar and heads in the same direction apparently keen to get there before Sali and Gunnar.

Sali draws her blade and stumbles on the spot a little. She pushes the dwarf, unusually quiet now that the action has started she noted, in the direction of the opening. Had they spiked the drinks to dull the slayer’s senses? Well, she still had her own, foggy though they are. She prepares to carry out a fighting retreat, slashing her sword at any that approach!

The man directly opposite Sali and in the centre of the group raises his hands as he sees her draw her sword "Nar! Nar! Yer ladyship nar need fer der poker. We'z jes 'ere fer a palsy little chat like." He glances nervously round the group catching the eyes of the others. "Ain't dat reet lads." The man behind you on the right scrambles to his feet still grasping his bruised knee.

“You say your piece, and I’ll decide if there’s need for the poker. How about that?” She retorts, stabbing the air in front of her to keep anyone from getting too close. She pushes into Gunnar they move away, to keep them moving and stop them from getting surrounded.

The man takes a step backward careful to stay out of reach of Sali's sword point "Now look 'ere yer ladyship all we want ter say is leave young Petal alone see. She don't know nuffin, an it's bad enough wiv all dem 'alflings sniffin. about wiv'out you bothin 'er as well. Alreet." he tries to regain some of his composure and appear more threatening "So, stay away we don't want you 'ere. Reet lads" he says looking around at his four companions. dice roll

“I… am Captain Salundra von Drakenburg. And I’ll talk to whomever I please…” The drink was making her brave, and stubborn. “Reet? Happy to show you how I… earned my rank.” She says, waving the blade around at the men.

"Darn't git flinty wiv' us Captain. Dis is our place 'an Petal is our mate and yer not welcome. Yer big 'at don't cut the mustard, got it. Stay away" With that he makes a throat-cutting gesture and he and the others fade slowly away into the fog leaving Sali and Gunnar standing alone in the street.

“You were awfully quiet there, Slayer! I don’t suppose a few of Altdorf’s finest were enough to put the fear into you.” Sali says, as she stops pushing the dwarf away when the men retreat. “I think we had better come back to see this Halfling girl tomorrow. With daylight and without drink!!” Sali ushers Gunnar northwards along Leitpoldstrasse towards the street of a hundred taverns and the Three Toll Bridge. The fog is thick around them and they are barely able to see the buildings they pass as they make their way over the bridge and into Tempelplatz paying the bridge tolls en route. (see note) They make it back to the Drakenhof without further incident and are greeted by Karl the gatekeeper with some generic comment on the filthy state of the weather. But by now the warmth of the stew has begun to fade and Sali heads directly into the house where she knows a warm fireside and a hot drink will be waiting. She enters the reception room and is met by the steward and the housekeeper who fuss over the removal of her wet hat and coat and ask if she has eaten. The elderly housekeeper also hands Sali a sealed note "This arrived today whilst you were out yer ladyship. It's from your mother the Duchess, came by courier." she adds as if to emphasize the import of its contents even though she has no idea what it says.

"My dearest darling Salundra, I hope this letter finds you well. Your father and I have not heard from you for some time and we miss you terribly. Please write when you have time and let us know you are well. Things in Drakenburg are not going well, though your father continues to make light of it and put his faith in Sigmar and the Emperor, there are rumours of a large army led by Ludwig Schwarzhelm massing in the Duchy of Wallenstein and threatening Ubersreik. The Graf Sigismund von Jungfreud is once more harassing your father to demand his loyalty and support against what he claims is yet another plot against him by House von Wallenstein. The nerve of the man after the way he treated us over your engagement to that fickle son of his but your father is torn between the pledge he made to the Graf upon your engagement and his duty to the Emperor and so has refused to rally the Drakgard to the defence of Ubersreik. The Graf is furious and is making all sorts of threats so please be careful you know better than most of us how obsessive and vengeful the von Jungfreud family can be. Your father is planning to travel to the Drakenhof shortly to plead his loyalty at the Imperial Court and to try and allay these rumours of our involvement in a Jungfreud led conspiracy against the Emperor. However, the Graf insists that the pledge ring given to him by your father upon your engagement was evidence enough of the oath made by our family and that having broken our word we must now be considered enemies of his family and beneath contempt. Your father had word yesterday that the Graf has traded the pledge ring to an elven merchant called Alantha Goldcrest in return for his support and influence at the Imperial Court. Your father believes the merchant intends to use the ring to blackmail us and discredit our family with the Imperial Court if we do not comply. It seems Lord Goldcrest has been approaching many other noble houses seeking their support by threat or bribe and demanding sole rights to the trade from their estates and your father is worried what damage he might do to our families reputation if he presents that ring to the Emperor as proof of our alliance with the Jungfreuds. Salundra if you are reading this please come home, you are not safe. The Reikland may be heading for civil war and I have no idea who our enemies might be. If this devious elf uses the ring we may find ourselves branded as enemies of the state along with the Jungfreud’s and you may be arrested. Come home I need you. Duchess Anya von Drakenburg"

Sali recognises it as the typical outpouring of her mother's anxiety for family honour, the injustices of the Imperial court and concern for her daughter's welfare. Things which as usual her father found too stressful to deal with and always brushed aside. But apparently, he was coming here and Sali wondered how soon he might arrive and whether she wanted to be here when he did. SESSION CLOSED I'm going to close this session at this point as it has already run on for some time (400 posts) The next Session will deal with Sali and Gunnars decision on what to do as a result of receiving the letter from the Duchess. There are a number of options available: Sali can do as her mother wishes and return to Castle Drakenburg, where no doubt her mother will fuss over her, try to make her wear dresses and generally smother her. However, with the hostilities mounting on the Duchies borders she might make herself useful in commanding the Drakgard and dealing with any military threats. Sali and Gunnar could simply ignore the letter and carry on with their duties as vigilante volunteers in Altdorf. In which case we will continue the story where it left off in this session and you can decide to return to The Mermaid or follow up your investigation with the search for Tarwin Fleisher. You could always take your mother's letter to Marcus or some of your other contacts in the city and see if he knows anything about this elf Alantha Goldcrest and what purpose he may have in buying your family's pledge ring. Or you could simply initiate direct action to search for Althantha Goldcrest yourselves or even hiring bounty hunters to do it for you with the intention of recovering the ring from him by purchase, theft, or violence. You could visit your dead letterbox and see if Vestohlen or the mysterious 'Q' have come up with any fresh leads on the reason for the army being sent away. Something else I haven't thought of above. What you decide will largely determine the nature of the next session.

Session 1: Shades of Altdorf Report

General Summary

Arrival In Altdorf

Gunnar Investigates

The Paper Chase

The News Summary

Off To See The Wizard

Salundra von Drakenburg

Gunnar Hrolfsson

Find your way!

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