[center][h3]Warhammer Fantasy: From Small Beginnings... [/h3] [img]https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/warhammerfb/images/5/5b/Reikwald_Forest-0.png/revision/latest?cb=20170913202717[/img][/center] Darkness fell over the Reikwald as surely as that which clothed Sylvania, an ink black shroud that smothered the dense woodland of all life that favoured the light of day, the only sources of light becoming the sickly waning moon and whatever source of light that a lonely traveller may make on such a night. Tonight it seemed that it was no singular traveller, but a small group of men and women huddled close together around a blaze that could be called 'sufficient' at best. There were children with them too, and these huddled most tightly to the others, small eyes peering out into the dark and their immature minds conjuring all manner of ghosts and ghouls – every snap of a twig was a monster making its way toward them, and every screech of an owl was another soul being claimed by the impenetrable forest and its daemonic denizens. Would the knowledge that their elders were equally as afeared as they have given some small amount of comfort? It was doubtful, and anyway, the children could see the same furtive glances they made themselves coming more and more often from those they trusted to shelter and protect them. “What was that?” Questioned one particularly portly man suddenly, his clothing noting him as a cook of some household, clearly a man that had sampled too many of his own dishes. “Stop it, Gunulf! You are scaring the children.” The chiding from an elderly woman gave him pause, but only for a moment, the cook half standing as his eyes widened, “there... what was that? I swear by Sigmar that something's out there.” More eyes now began to face away from the fire, the menfolk thumbing whatever makeshift weapon they could – for this was not a wealthy or heavily armed party – and the women and children shuffling closer to the central fire that acted as their focal point. “Gods above and below, there is something out th-” Ermric had been a blacksmith all his life, as huge and strong a man as one may find, but when his head flew from his shoulders and the snorting horror stepped forth on cloven feet, illuminated most distinctly by crackling flame, terror and distress spread through the travelling peasantry like wildfire. It was the eighth group to disappear on the road from Fenzelschëss to Nurten in a week, and something [b]had[/b] to be done... As the Mayor of nearby Schartenfeld knew, being a former military man himself, the best way to rid oneself of a killer was to hire a killer yourself. [hr] [h2][u]The whys and wherefores[/u][/h2] Welcome to Schartenfeld, good adventurer! It is a small town, smaller than most you will find in the Empire of Man, with barely a luxury within its palisaded walls. What it had got are taverns and opportunities for hire in abundance, built as it was upon a crossroads with roads leading to almost every part of the Empire and beyond; how it has not grown due to commerce and the like is anyone's guess! Well [i]wheesht[/i], for that is not why you are here, lest you include the possibility for a little cold, golden, coin in exchange for work. What work? Well, the work that any penniless runaway, disbanded veteran or adventurer may partake in... the work of sanctioned murder. For one reason or another you have found yourself in [b]the Ogres Maw[/b], one of the least reputable taverns in Schartenfeld, and it is here that tell of a recent incident on the road – one of many if your ears do not trick you – men, women and children carried away into the Reikwald and no sign of them left behind 'cept blood and a cold fire. Dietrich van Schlofel, retired Imperial Greatsword and mayor of the town, is offering a handsome reward for those brave (or stupid) enough to sign themselves up temporarily to his service – it is just a shame that he is somewhat xenophobic, no friend to Elves and Ogres (though he will tolerate Dwarfs and Halflings). So, will you help? Will you be brave or foolish enough? Will [b]you[/b] make your mark? [hr] [u][h2]Character 'Sheet'[/h2][/u] I've decided to go with a prose-based biography for characters, ending with why they're present in Schartenfeld; I'd be much obliged if you could include their name, a brief overview of their 'look' - equipment etc - and, primarily, some of their background. You can include age and so on as well if you wish. Allow me an example here: [Hider= Renault Geelard, Bretonnian Peasant]Renault Geelard had always been a peasant, like his father and his father before him, bound to their little plot of Bretonnian soil in the Dukedom of Quenelles for just over ten-and-seven years... or was it ten-and-nine? As a peasant of no education and downtrodden birth he was no even truly sure how old he was, his liege lord would never tell him and his father - the only individual who had ever openly loved him - had been struck down by a fairie arrow when their lord had attempted to enter Athel Loren in search of a particularly elegant stag. Nevertheless, while not the brightest of folk, Renault had grown tall and strong as rustic folk are want to do when sufficiently provided for. Again, it was his father that had given him his last spoon of oats, or his single slice of beef on fesitival days, and although such thoughts filled him with great sadness it never failed to bring a lopsided smile to his youthfully handsome face. The breaking point came when his lord, Sir Gilette de Mooton, began to gather another force of the peasantry to enter the fairie forest yet again; Renault would not be part of such an expedition, he would not die as his father did! On a thunderous winter night he clothed himself in simple garbs of leather, breeches and a jerkin over his 'best' woollen shirt, and fled into the surrounding countryside. By the time he reached the towering border between the Empire and Bretonnia...[/hider] You get the idea. If you would like to send me a character, please feel free to pop it into a hider here or PM it to me. Please feel free to ask any questions you may have and I'll do my best to answer them.