Bones on the Amber Steppes- In Game thread

[Thundercake]

This is now the in-game thread for the Regemential/Warband RPG started here,

The Rattling Night

The Pickled Wurm was loud and musty. Between the many travelers clustered around tables, the dirty laborers stopping by on their way home, and the stench of wurm; that had permetated the city since the cursed Skaven had erupted from beneath the great Wurm’s skin; it was hard to stand the stench, unless you drowned it out with alcohol. Gullus was trying to do just that. Between his long shifts at the lift cages, bringing that damn Vurm-tai rider to his superiors, and then seeing the notices posted round the city, he knew he’d need multiple tankards of the taverns fermented wurm oil to feel better. And if his past couple of days hadn’t been enough, his Vurmite livery seemed to act as a beacon for every idiot in the place to ask him about the notices that were posted inside this tavern and every other establishment like it in the city. He knew no more than they did, rumors from what had happened within the City Council’s chamber, and what the notices’ said, though few that asked seemed to believe him.

“Bar Keep, another!” He motioned sloppily with his empty tankard as caravan guard captain vacated the stool next to him after asking about the notices. “Damn, coin dogs” Gullus muttered under his breath.

“Bar Keep!” “Fill my-“

“Sigmar’s Thunder, Boy!” “Don’t you hear the bells?!” Snapped the bar keep. The bar keep had been standing seemingly lost in thought but now Gullus heard the bells over the din of The Pickled Wurm as well.

‘Blast! What could that be? Another Skaven attack? Something else?’ Gullus tried to control his thoughts and get his limbs under control. Standing up, Gullus put his helm on and looked around for his halberd. The room was now at a murmur, most patrons had heard the bells and those nearer the door had started to look towards it with alarm in their eyes. Now shouts and cries of pain could be heard from outside as well as the alarm.

As Gullus gave up looking for his halberd and tightened the belt that held his short sword around his waist a woman in the flowing leaf robes, showing her devotion to the Lady of Leaves, stumbled into the tavern clutching her stomach.  A deep red stain was quickly spreading across her clothes. ”Rats, rats everywhere……….and bones, th………bones…rattle….” She gasped as she stumbled into the group around the table nearest the door.  

Sounds of battle could now be clearly heard outside of the tavern. Drawing his sword Gullus rushed past the dead women out into the square.

 

[Davariel]

"What do you make of it, sire?"

King Arend's eyes flicked from the notice to Merinne, who was sitting across the table, and back again. He shrugged and took a long swig from his tankard, then almost gagged. "By Sigmar's golden balls! What is this swill? Tastes like dung."

Merinne sighed and patted a loose strand of dark brown hair back behind one ear. "I believe it's worm oil. Readily available, if nothing else. But what of the notice, sire?"

Arend looked at her strangely. "What of it? This is the realm of beasts, isn't it? Don't see what they're all so worked up about. Creatures like that belong in a god-forsaken place like this."

"Yes, but..." Merinne faltered and looked to the king's left, where one of his knights was seated. Beneath the table she gave him a not so subtle nudge with her foot.

"If I may, sire..." the knight paused. "The people are worried about these beasts. Too worried. I do not think it is any ordinary occurence. And there is other gossip as well, about strange happenings amongst the nearby tribes..."

"Hmm." The king's dark eyes softened as he pondered that, stroking his bushy moustache. "Well, you're right about one thing, Belerad. They're worried, sure enough. You can smell the fear in the air, the uncertainty. Haven't seen folk so afraid for a long time." He looked around the fine tavern, considering the Azyrite nobles, the merchants, the servants. Some hid it better than others, some didn't hide it at all, but almost all showed some signs of deep unease. "Even so, I don't see what I'm supposed to do about it. The King of Serenor, working as a common sellsword? Bah!"

"Perhaps it is beneath you," Merinne admitted, "but we are not in Serenor. Things are different. Perhaps Iliena has provided you the opportunity you need, not the one you want."

Arend grunted, but said nothing. Once again he looked to the notice, his eyes boring into it as if he could see straight through the parchment. It seemed he was about to speak when a loud cry from outside cut through his thoughts; the usual rumble and bustle of the city had been growing louder for some time, and now it burst into a fire of screams and tolling bells.

"What is that damn noise?" The king thundered, leaping to his feet. "How is one supposed to think with all this racket!"

The tavern went quiet, those within torn between looking to the troubling sounds outside or the loud and imposing king in their midst. Around the table where the Serenni sat, the Templars of Iliena readied their greatswords. A man peered out the window, then let out a scream as a bony hand smashed through the glass and clutched at his throat. At once the tavern was engulfed by screams, panicked cries, and tears; the doors were thrown open, and terrified people began flooding in.

"Rats!" Someone cried. "The rats have returned!"

"No, the undead. Nagash has come to claim us!"

"Sigmar save us..."

Arend did not hesitate. "Serenni, to arms! To arms I say! Take up defensive positions." He turned to the rest of the tavern's patrons. "You lot! Either find somewhere to hide or find a damn weapon, use a chair if you have to. Block those windows and barricade the door. And someone fetch me my shield!"

"By what right do you command us, you filthy reclaimed heathen-" one of the Azyrites burst out.

Arend stepped forward and slapped the man across the face with his mailed fist, drawing blood from his nose. "You're addressing a king, man. Show some dignity!" Raising his sword he turned to the rest of them. "Now, do as I say and perhaps we'll all live 'till morning..."