POOHEAD189

No Good Deed

While the snarky girl Malcador found himself stuck with went to go and fetch a stick for their meal, the wizard set the fish down next to the fire, letting it cook a bit before they would really strip it and get it simmering. He reached into his smaller pack, with his barest necessities that stupidly did not include food. His larger pack was long ransacked by grubby greenskin hands, but he still had a bit of his supernal divination powder. It was good for little more than thaumaturgical magician tricks, but it did help with the location of a person or place, especially when the practitioner was starving and tired. He took a sizeable pinch of it and tossed it into the fire. The flame gave a soft woomp as grew in size for a brief moment as he began to chant softly to himself, staring into the flames. The middle sections of his fingers were pressed together in a light fist, save for the index and thumbs, their tips touching. He repeated the rhythmic incantation, and willed the flames to show him the location of the imperial forces, if there were any left. For over a full minute he chanted, the fire consuming his vision as he delved deeper into the spell, and for a moment he thought he was having a bit of mystical impotence.

However, he began to see muddy ground; soiled and mud-caked tents, drooping horses and the faces of downtrodden and wounded soldiers. Some he recognized, many he did not, most had not come out of the battle unscathed. He shifted the view, trying to ascertain the approximate location from his own, but his first, more petty priority was to see if his fearless leader was still alive. Eventually the inimical, bovine face of little Lord Wegindorf appeared as he chastized the unsung heroic sergeants that no doubt had kept him alive, or at least whatever remnants of a force they had left. It was a jerimiad of labyrinthine rationale and orphic logic, but to Malcador's satisfaction he looked wounded in the leg and sleepless. His magics began to coalesce a direction and a distance, the ephemeral weaves he cast were drawing back to him with the information he sought, but then he heard the earthen haired bint screaming.

Immediately his divination was dashed, and it felt like waking up in the middle of a dream. Wearily he tried to blink away the trance, and he stood up with what energy he could muster, stepping to the small doorway of their pitiful shelter to see her waving a stick and yelling that he run.

"What did-" She did not slow down, and the stupidest thing she could have done, she did. She ran headlong into stone.

Somehow, by the grace of Sigmar, it was so derelict and ruined that her weight and momentum alone was enough to turn it to rubble, but her feet caught themselves in his, and Malcador had the briefest view of her falling into darkness before he joined her as the earth and tree that had kept them dry collapsed around them, dousing the fire and burying their would-be dinner, along with themselves.

Some unforeseen time later, Malcador stirred. His head was pounding, and he wondered at the sheer bad luck a celelstial wizard could have. Somehow he had found the only woman in the empire he was not keen on getting to know much better, and now he was...somewhere, without light or food. He pondered this state of affairs as he lay there, refusing to move for a time and fading in and out of consciousness. Ultimately, he knew he could not lay there and waste away like that academy dropout Albericht Kruger, and so he summoned his will and sat up.

"Hannah?" He whispered, sounding a bit more haggard than he would have liked. "Are you alive?"

Black Serpents: Warhammer RP

When Kayden ran the black witch's plot by his men, they were a bit dubious, but they trusted his plans, which by association meant they trusted his agreement to other plans. However, it took some doing. They had to find some musty, flea-bitten apparel lost in the lowest drawers and the deepest closets in the townhouse firstly, and then they needed to decide just who was going to go, and how.

"I need at least three of you to go," Kayden told them, arms folded. They had cordoned themselves off in one of the guest rooms, as the kitchen had become a bit of a hazard from the potential flying rocks and missiles. "Three of you can stay and keep your bows, but the rest need to go, without weapons except your long knives."

"You should be one of the ones to go, Captain. You need to lead the men, and you need to get out of here in case it goes north." Arnest advised, but Kayden was already shaking his head.

"The lady wishes me to stay, and I want to keep an eye on her as well. She's the meal ticket, after all." He said in a tone that halted any argument. A few of the longbowmen exchanged looks, and Kayden had to stifle a sigh. No doubt they were thinking his womanizing was getting in the way of his judgement, though Grolmes and Hanke seemed less than enthused, likely believing Calliope wasn't worth the risk in general. "Now, who's going? Walden, if you do you can't wear the helmet." The entire group halted when Morek raised a hand, and Kayden waited a long moment before adding: "Morek, you understand you'd be running away from a siege with your short legs?"

He lowered his hand again and grunted. "Thought we'd fight out way out." Was his only explanation.

"No, this is secretive. You need to blend in."

Swiftly, Kayden and his men organized themselves, and Grolmes, Hanke, and Leuthold would need to change and find a way to slip out the back. Arnest, Walden, and Gerhardt would stay, while Morek and Kayden set up to barricading the defenses below. This was not the first time they had fought in a manor. There was standard for villa defense in Tilea, if one sold their swords enough. Luckily the mezzanine on the 2nd floor was perfect for longbowmen and riflemen. Kayden had a pistol ready, himself.

Once the meeting broke, he and Morek went to aid the knights in piling up tables and furniture against the doorway as the three longbowmen made their escape through the cellar, which led to a small hatch a few dozen paces behind the townhouse. Kayden expected Otto to tell them to sod off when they came to aid, but it was the one time the arrogant tart did not give him a tongue lashing and they silently worked together. Morek began to rearrange the pile, pointing for the knights to move chairs and barking an order here or there. It seemed the short-lived peace was going to abruptly die, but before Otto could argue, Kayden held a hand up. "Dwarfs have a knack for sieges and obstacles. If you wish to defend your charge, I would listen to him."

He growled but acquiesced. Within two hours, the entirety of the bottom floor could hold off a rampaging Ungor horde if it came down to it. As Otto and Morek were shoving the last cupboard against the symmetrical walls of timber, books, and bedding, Kayden ascended the stairway to inform Calliope of their progress. He stepped inside the library where she had a good view of those down below, and he found her on the cushioned chair, her eyes closed but a fell light emanating from behind her eyelids. His men weren't entirely wrong, he did find her quite fetching, but the look of whatever magic she was doing almost had him going for his sword. When she heard the scuffing of his feet, her eyes opening were even more unnerving. They had been pure black, the stygian color slowly eroding as her magics faded and she returned to normalcy.

"Any news?" They both asked in unison. Calliope's red lips thinned, clearly wishing for him to speak first. He gave a courtly bow.

"We have reinforced all doors on the first floor, and covered all windows on the second. If they make a move, which should be happening shortly I imagine, they'll have hell to pay."

Have At You!!! A Game of Swashbuckling Adventure

My bad. I'll get the next post up either tonight or tomorrow, and get stuff moving.

@AndyC

Thanks! Sorry to be a bother

Have At You!!! A Game of Swashbuckling Adventure

I think I just need one more update from your end before two lovers can have eternal peace (mine and penny's characters meet).

A Hard Rain - Urban Fantasy RP

"It would be my honor to aid you, warrior maiden."

Rupert sighed. It had not been his voice, but it had come out of his mouth. He was not necessarily going to leave her to her fate, but having the knight answer without granting him time to think was not his idea of agency, and it only made him wish to abandon her all the more. Still, one look at her and he knew his efforts killing the men of the Precinct would be for naught.

"Very well," he acquiesced, but the Winter Knight had already passed out.

Hours later...

The rhythm of the wheels juttering over the tracks above shook the meager wood and too-thin stone. Water dripped ubiquitously across the breadth of the hideout, dropping into half filled buckets from the recent rain. Rupert opened the wound gently, carefully sliding the oversized medical tweezers (his own name for them) to grip the bullet gently. Once the hold was firm, he pulled it out. Kelly Asher must have been fading in and out of consciousness. She moaned woefully, but was as silent as a corpse after that. Rupert had to double check and confirm she was still breathing.

He stemmed the flow of blood and sutured her up, before wrapping her wound in clean cloth. Rupert was not a doctor, but he had experience with gunshot wounds and could perform minor magics. He set a dwemor upon her, which would dispel any minor curses or negative effects a bullet might be enchanted with. With that, he carefully picked her up and laid her on a cot, her trousers staying on throughout the small procedure. Afterwards, he went and heated up some ramen and sausages on a pan over a fire in the corner. After he ate a bit, he would check on her again.

Then he would want answers.
@Penny

Black Serpents: Warhammer RP

The Lady Blackwood and Kayden arrived back at the relatively refurbished townhouse within the hour, walking with perfect, innocent poise. Kayden made a show of waving to those who watched or giving friendly nods, eyeing their surroundings while making a show of congeniality and flirtation. Even Calliope gave a smile to a few more prominent members of the township. When they arrived, Kayden knocked on the door for the lady, and one of her knights answered. He opened the door for both of them, and Kayden, a perfect gentleman, allowed the noblewoman to step in first, the prince following in her wake. The door clicked shut before the prying eyes of Nehren. Kayden was glad, he doubted he could hold it in any longer.

The Prince laughed, the pleasant sound echoing in the main lobby and carrying up the carpeted central stairway. Even when he was finished, he grinned. The Lady Blackwood held herself a moment longer, acting confused on his source of mirth, but there was a knowing, amused twinkle in her eyes. Otto Von Draken appeared at the top of the stairs, holding his sword hilt to steady it and hurrying down to meet his liege. "How did the court decide?" He asked in breathless worry. The prince ignored his entrance and continued with the dark wizardess as Morek stepped into the foyer from an apparent interest in the kitchens.

"That was well played," Kayden admitted, giving Calliope a smile Gossippa Lotta would have killed an elector count to have thrown her way. "I was afraid I was going to dearly miss the intrigue after I left Tilea. Everything I've heard about the Empire makes it sound so droll, and my time at Altdorf did not necessarily dissuade me of such notions." He placed a hand to his forehead as he chuckled once more. "Rhya’s tits, forgive me my ignorance."

"Do not speak to her in such a familiar tone." Otto warned him. If his gaze were daggers, Kayden would have been impaled thrice immediately. It only made Kayden's grin wider, getting some sly, fey delight at Otto's incessant jealousy. There were rumors some men of albion had the blood of elves or spirits. Likely false, even to Kayden's reckoning, but while he was controlled and educated, he did find himself cursed with deep passions when the mood struck him. It only fueled Otto's ire, but Morek stepped forward as Otto gripped the hilt of his sword. The ironbreaker gave him a black look, and it caused him to hesitate long enough for Calliope to wave his concerns away.

"The Captain was merely complimenting me, Otto. Don't be a bore. And the proceeding went well. I'm simply glad such a litigious meeting could bring out such joy." She placed a perfect hand to her chest. "I, myself, feel rather satisfied as well."

Kayden found himself toying with the amethyst earring again, but pulled his hand away as soon as he grew conscious of it. As the Lady Blackwood began to speak the details to those knights that did not follow, Morek escorted Kayden into the kitchens with the six men that had joined them in the townhouse, leaving twenty scattered across Nehren. Just as Kayden had advised, they were Pike's men. Each held a longbow with arrow bags. Longbow arrows were too large to be used in traditional quivers, unless under great duress, at least.

"I see that look in your face, Captain." Leuthold remarked, leaning against the left wall. He had a scar over his left eye, leaving the orb milky white. Somehow he was still one of the best shots in the company. He claimed he just needed to cross his eye like one might with both and it brought it all into perspective. As long as it worked. "Good news?"

"'Course it is, we'd be run out of town if it weren't," Arnest said, sitting at the table and chewing a bit of cooked mutton. On his shoulder was Conrad, a small squirrel the archer had found alone as a baby and raised with scraps from his rations. It did tricks for nuts and scratches, and followed Arnest everywhere. At night, some men said Conrad could be seen watching the Mannslieb from atop his tent. No one could figure why.

Kayden sat down and ate some mutton with them, telling them of the whole ordeal. An hour passed, and Kayden was somewhat convinced that things would turn out in their favor, and with relative smoothness.

They were unfortunately interrupted by a rock thrown through the kitchen window, shattering glass and pitching poor Walden over when it struck him in the head, though the man wasn't hurt badly. His propensity for wearing his helmet indoors served him well in this instance, the stone bouncing off the steel audibly. Immediately Kayden, Morek, and the men got to their feet, weapons out. Two grabbed their long knives, but while Arnest helped Walden up, the others nocked their bows. The loud sound of more glass shattering showcased it wasn't an isolated incident, and peering through the window, Kayden saw Ernst Ruttiger, with what looked to be a quarter of the townsfolk behind him, along with several of the bailiffs from the court room. He even spotted the rabbit poachers from days before lurking amongst the crowd. A number of the men had ranged weapons, crossbows and rifles and pistols, but most had messers or daggers, many holding mining implements. No doubt Ernst had squeezed their livelihood to have them join him or lied about Lady Blackwood, likely both.

"Lady Blackwood!" Ersnt screamed, his pudgy face sweating in the relatively mild heat.

"Captain?" Gerhardt asked, readying his bow. Kayden shook his head, staying his man's shot.

"Lady Blackwood, I know you're in there!" The fat merchant seemed very pleased with himself, despite his pitiful efforts to make his presence more grandiose for the masses. "Come out and speak with me reasonably! Come out, or we'll come in and drag you out, you witch!"

Above him, Kayden heard the voice of Calliope Blackwood carried on the wind, oozing smugness. "Dear Ernst, you brought my money already? I was led to believe the appointment was tomorrow! How thoughtful..."

"My money belongs to me! You and your backwood liturgy has no place in Nehren!" He cried, and a few of his men yelled in support, though most of the townsfolk remained silent. In hushed tones, Kayden told Morek to stay below with Walden, Arnest, and Leuthold. Gerhardt, Grolmes, and Hanke were to follow him to better vantage points as he ascended the stairs, rushing past the mezzanine and making it to the third floor in the private library, where Calliope, Otto, and another knight were near the window. Kayden motioned for each man to find a different room and a different window to cover, and joined Calliope, albeit at a different stained window to her right. As he opened the glass pane, Ernst caught the movement with his eye.

"Captain Caladwarden! You should have taken my offer!" Ernst lamented dramatically. "You seem like a man of honor! Why not come down and join us! I would take the deal if I were you, my boy!"

"If you were me, you'd be charming." Kayden replied simply. Ernst looked taken aback, and a few of his men dropped their jaws. A number of the townsfolk chuckled and tried to hold their laughter. He heard a snicker to his left, and he dare not look but he believed it was the Lady Blackwood.

"You little shit!" Ernst roared, his pudgy face red. He looked like the crimson-faced ape from the southlands he had seen once in a cage during his stint in araby. "You clearly do not value your life!"

"I am a mercenary, herr Ruttiger. It's my job to value money over my life, and by the court's decision, you'll soon be lacking it." He said, a sly grin spreading across his face.

No Good Deed

"Oh, pardon for being a bit too cold to ask," He remarked back just as testily. They had days of walking ahead of them, they had time for their life stories later! But after the glance spared her way, his eyes were fixed on the new opening in front of him. It was a bit too convenient they had found this place, or something like this. He ran his fingers over the inscription, cursing himself for knowing barely any khazalid. Then again, even a dedicated class would only teach so much. The dwarfs guarded their secrets jealously. Absently, he remarked, "My name is Malcador."

He heard her chuckling, and it broke what little patience and concentration he had. He whirred on her. "What!?"

"It's a bit cliche, don't you think? Definitely a wizard's name. 'Malcador'." She snickered. He looked at her like she was crazy, and then his mood was corrupted from amazement to frustration and derision.

"So we should all have names common as grease?" He asked her with barely contained arrogance, and that brought a scowl to her face.

"Hannah's got spirit!" She countered, and she almost looked like she was about to spit on him. "Malcador sounds like something made up!"

"All names are made up!" He yelled.

"You know what I mean!" She exclaimed like he was a fool. He was about to call her the most blasted insult, before he took another route and vented his anger in a slightly more productive way.

"Look, just cook the damn fish so I can figure out what in Sigmar's arse is on this stone, please?" He asked, gesturing at the strange stoneworks behind him that screamed 'read me!.'

"You cook the damned fish!" She spat spitefully, tossing it to him with a contemptuous fling of her hands. Malcador caught the flying fish clumsily, now intensely aware of the clammy dead thing in his lap. His lip curled in distaste. He was going to grab it, but instead he rubbed the bridge of his nose instead. He doubted they would be so at odds back home, even if they were world's different. It was the damned cold and the blasted hunger and the thrice-poxed greenskins.

"Alright, fine! I'm sorry. You find us a good stick to shove into this thing, and I'll cook it, then we can share it. Deal?"

Black Serpents: Warhammer RP

The Silverhill Skirmish, the men were calling it. I felt it was a trite more harrowing considering my experiences, but we did come out relatively unscathed. I acquiesced to Lady Blackwood's request and did as I was bid. We fortified our position at Silverhill, and I gave Merie command of the Rearguard and half the Free Booters to escort our patron back to Gallow's End. We lost five men on the journey there and back. Three mysteriously disappeared, one man dehydrated himself to death from some unknown affliction, and the final was killed by the walking dead. I was assured it was an isolated incident from a number of unmarked graves that had been disturbed on our first journey, and were awaiting our return as Merie walked them across disturbed soil. However, three days after our victory over the Shaman, the lady returned to us, and we marched with a token force to Nehren. I personally met with the mayor at the gates, and my force of men were told to wait outside, for an occupying force could not simply walk in, legitimate or not. However, Calliope Blackwood and a smaller retinue could enter. We did so. It had been an eventful week, working for the Black Rose. It was by no means over.

The Imperial Campaign, Pflugzeit 13, 2508
Prince Kayden Caladwarden

"What do you make of it?" Kayden asked him.

"I won't say my opinion as fact, Captain." Cyrdic Becker remarked, sipping his mead. The clouds made way for the sun, giving the humble mining town of Nehren a dappled look of light and dark. Kayden had kept his one hundred men and women encamped outside the walls, and had brought in twenty five of the Linebreakers with the mayor's acquiescence. The mayor was a slim, skittish man, by the look Kayden had of him. He could tell immediately he was in the pocket of someone else at best, and a mongrel lapdog at worst. Well, he looked more akin to a weasel, but that was beside the point. Kayden had informed his men to not wear the Wyvern colors coming in, and to spread out when they entered. If worst came to worst, he didn't want them all found in one location, and to be ready to spring at a moment's notice. Kayden, however, could not blend in to the crowd. He was too striking of a figure to meld in, due to his unnaturally good looks and his modest jewelry to denote his status. On the side of the street, the prince had seemingly "bumped" into Cyrdic, however he seemed to pay little heed to subterfuge, out of his own choice than happenstance. Cyrdic motioned his mug across the way, to the billing house where four toughs in boiled leather, messers sheathed at their sides, stood. They watched the two Wyvern's openly, holding the cold stares of killers. "But they look like men who were told to strike, and soon."

"They do look like dogs at a table." Kayden agreed, turning away from Ernst's paid men and giving Cyrdic a subtle wink. "Keep close to your batch of the men, but not too close. I'll be in touch."

"Yes, Captain." He said, taking another sip of his mead, his wolfish eyes never leaving the steel gaze of the thugs. He was an Ostermark man, but he bore a Norscan shield and a sword with a wolfish pommel. Kayden had never bothered to ask, but there was a story there. The prince let the mercenary be, striding up the street to busy himself while Lady Blackwood finished negotiations with this Ernst fellow, a petty merchant prince with some evident influence in this part of old Solland.

He stepped out of the sun and into the local Alehouse, dubbed The Gold Vein. An auspicious name for what he felt amounted to pretty much a nothing of an establishment. A few tables full, a few empty. He smelled alcohol and sweat, and saw when he glanced around the timber constructed room, prospectors and townsfolk made half of the customers, and the other half seemed to be as rough as the men waiting outside. He made a conscious effort not to look at a few of his men planted in the crowd, and instead decided to busy himself with the barmaid. She was a pretty, plump, blonde haired girl who had a snaggle tooth one could not miss when she smiled, and she smiled widely when she saw Kayden. He mirrored her smile, having approached the counter so casually it seemed as if he had simply glided up.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, fraulein" Kayden said, his voice like silk. She let out a small, unconscious breath, and it made him smile wider.

"Welcome, ser. We um, we have ale, wine, and beer. All locally brewed." She said, catching herself idly rummaging with the silverware she was supposed to put up and placed it down on the counter.

"The darkest ale you have, and once you get that, maybe we can talk awhile if that's no trouble for you." He offered. When given the chance, he was a shameless flirt. She said yes a bit too quickly and went to fetch his drink. No sooner had she turned around that a grunt could be heard behind him, and a portly man with a lined face and a weather coat set down on the stool next to him.

"Yeah, Helga's well liked around here, stranger." He said, placing his cup of beer down, half full. Kayden raised an eyebrow at that. He sat down for a desire rather than a need, then. When Kayden did not reply, he continued. "So, how long have you been walking to get to this little town?"

"Hard to answer." Kayden remarked.

"How come?"

"Does that mean how long have I walked before I got here from my last destination, or how long have I walked since I planned on arriving?"

The figure shook his head and smiled. His teeth were full of ivory and silver, and one wooden molar. "You're very precise, herr Captain." He said, chuckling at a private joke. "I like that. I bet you're a shrewd businessman. You'd have to be, wouldn't you? I wanted to offer you a bit of business myself." Helga had returned, but having noticed the stranger joining Kayden at the counter, her smile had disappeared. She placed the drink down and walked away, busying herself with other matters that suddenly needed her attention. Kayden took the drink and sipped, staying quiet. "See, Ernst and Co is a big conglomerate. Growing larger, actually. I hear soon, we're going to own the whole southern half of Wissenland. Bringing civilization back to Solland, cities, towns, commerce! No more curses or the talk of superstitious locals. You seem like just the man for the job, and we pay better than black bitches from a dying family. With respect."

"Really? And what do you propose?" Kayden asked idly, nursing his drink.

"Oh, nothing much. Say, righting a few wrongs you made under duress. Seems you had some trouble few miles south of here, yeah? Maybe escorting the good lady home, see to it she stays there. If you get my meaning..."

Kayden took another swig of his drink, smiling to himself. He drained the mug, and set it down on the table before placing two crowns, double the price of the drink, for Helga. "I think I do. Maybe when my contract is up, I'll see to it. Until then though," He said, turning to lean on the counter and look the man dead in the eyes. "I'm afraid I'm a Blackwood man. She might not pay much, but she's easier on the eyes than Ernst, I bet. You as well." He grinned at that last bit, and without further talk he walked out, the chuckles of a few listeners following him.

He needed to find Calliope and talk to her about it.

Black Serpents: Warhammer RP

Hours later, the excavation was more or less going as planned. With the death of the shaman, most of the goblins and orcs saw fit to scramble away, though there were always stubborn ones. Afterwards, Kayden ordered the men in the mines to retreat, allowing Morek and Sketti and the other dwarfs to form their own temporary units and thoroughly route what greenskins were left, letting the soft menfolk eat and rest. Neil (and Sketti) had been a bit saddened by the fact that no explosives had yet been needed, but Kayden allowed that sergeant Edwards could go beneath with them and if they needed it to be done in a place outside of the safe zone, he would grant them allowance to.

Meanwhile, Francesca had been given thanks by Kayden and suitably collapsed, given an entire's days rest. Kayden felt like he needed the same. He was not entirely claustrophobic, but during his adventuring years with Morek before this outfit, he had experienced a little too many terrors of the deep to feel comfortable in there, and this latest excursion had nearly incinerated him. He loathed the aristocracy for their unearned sense of self worth and vanity, but he had always been an exceptionally dashing individual, and once he had come to terms with his life still in tact, he fretted a bit over his singed hair. Once that was done, he had gone to Lady Blackwood's tent with only the barest moment to be announced. Mesmer was there, his vitality somehow returned. He barred Kayden's way as surely as a stone wall, much like how Morek would do so at his tent. Silent and foreboding.

"Come in, Captain." She called, and only then did Mesmer step to the side like a yawning gateway. Kayden eyed him for a moment, and he flipped the pavilion's flap open to enter, stepping onto a lush carpet. The inner section of the spacious, too spacious, living quarters was illuminated by candles. From the outside, he knew there could be no room for any other chambers, but whilst to his left was a large desk of arcane scripts while strange fetishes from he guessed was distant Cathay, to his right was a soft sitting chair and beyond it was another exit that led further in to somewhere. The Lady Blackwood stepped out, having just fixed the fringe of her own tied up hair. She wore black as was her custom, but her usual ostentatious robe and corset combination that commanded respect was replaced by a a simpler but elegant shift that one might sleep in, albeit still accompanied by her amethyst jewelry. It hugged her lovely form, but despite her nonchalance, now that he knew who or what she was, he could see she was cloaked in power in some anticipation. Whether it was because she expected him to assail her tent with the entire army or to distract her from an assassin, he was not certain. "Can I help you?"

"You've helped quite enough," he said, pulling his hand away from his amethyst earring. He was wondering if it would be good to get it replaced. "I was nearly burned to death and my second almost drowned. The entire mine nearly collapsed atop us. Is it amusing to toy with us?"

"Slightly, but I was not toying with you there." She corrected him, reclining on her cushioned chair. "There was a mage of some skill below, more than you likely suspect. I solved it for our goals. I did not deign to endanger you."

"No, it just almost happened anyway because of your secrets." He said, and the silence hung for a moment as they stared at one another. Eventually he capitulated, more out of his own conscience than any power of hers. "But, better my life than those of my men. However, you could have told me earlier you were a sorceress. I would have thought you would concede it is of particular note."

She chuckled. "Taken from La'Teirsen's Contemplations. Are we going to argue philosophy, Captain? I do miss my time at the Scholars Sanctum."

"We could, and we likely will, but I would rather a straight answer at present, my lady."

"It is no one's business but my own, however I do not wish for it to be advertised regardless. I would ask for your confidence as well, for the time being. I know you can convince your dwarf friend to do the same."

"And Francesca?"

"I gave her a poultice to help her sleep. Oh don't worry, Captain. It's harmless and she'll forget my part by the morning." She said, and then looked at him appraisingly. "You're better at the sword than I anticipated."

Mesmer stepped into the tent before Kayden could reply. The brooding, quiet man gave a bow to Calliope, who sat up inquisitively. She rolled her hand to bid him speak. "My lady, Otto has returned. He brings news..."

Black Serpents: Warhammer RP

Braving the mountains, I had promised my men a bounty of gold and women on the other side. So far I had managed to provide some of the former, but the latter required us to make it to civilization to spend the gold. The Werholt fiasco notwithstanding, we had procured thrice the payment and had some easy sport. My lieutenants were in high spirits, and I knew I needed one more good contract to get us to pay season. I managed to find it, or it found me, with a black coach and an equally foreboding promise to a Lady Calliope Blackwood. A fair payment and an odd, albeit simple job was given to us. We had a pint of rum in our increasingly depleting stores, and marched the next four days to Silverhill. I had not expected Lady Blackwood to accompany us, but she saw fit to settle on my shoulder like a crow, and I could tell there was far more in store for us than this mundane task of greenskins.

The Imperial Campaign, Pflugzeit 8, 2508
Prince Kayden Caladwarden

At the pace they set, the journey to Silverhill should have pleasant by all accounts. No poor weather, open roads, scenic areas to camp. The men had started imagine Nuln or Averheim and their intrepid night lives once they could spend all this coin. We were fat and happy after an easy victory. However, while we had forgotten the land was cursed, the land itself had not. During our march, we would find dug up graves and trees sucked of vitality, seemingly at random. Every few miles, stone ruins or the blasted remains of some farmstead were discovered, and lodges that were inhabited held queer, superstitious folk that would sooner shoot us with a crossbow than trade with us. Some never unlatched their doors. On the second day, the sun high in the sky, I saw a hill overlooking a copse of trees we marched passed, a dread feeling on my mind. A pressure in my brow, and a small pain as if fingers pressed against the nerves. Upon the hill was a derelict, crumbled tower not unlike the decimated side of Gallow's End, and I saw a cloaked figure standing still beside the rubble. Somehow I knew it watched us, watched me. Never in my life I had felt more certain that eyes were on me, but when I blinked again, the figure was gone.

At night, what Lady Blackwood's Knights would swear on their life were bird calls and stags sounded more like the dead awakening and the lost souls calling to be let loose from this plane of reality. We slept when we could, but our guard was doubled. What we did not realize, was that while we watched for threats from without, the problems came from within. By the time we arrived at Silverhill, twenty men and three women had risen from their cots at night and simply walked out of the camp, and we never saw them again. By all accounts from their comrades, the day before they were their old selves, but something called to them in the woods. Kayden did not know what had led them to do such a thing, he wanted nothing to do with anything outside of the picket lines, but there was a siren's song that permeated the air of old Solland, and it took its toll on his men.

Luckily, they found the mountains by day four. Usually mountains were not the most welcome sight. They had very little strategic value save if one was to occupy a fortress, and they were often filled with barbarous creatures rather than verdant villas to plunder. Kayden doubted they could have made it there quicker, despite Lady Blackwood's claims. The reputation of the land had preceded it, and the men needed that extra day to rest if they were going to be any effective in the mine. Within the hour, he had called his lieutenants to together. Calliope joined them, lurking in the shadow at the back of the tent like a specter. Everyone was keen to keep their eyes off of her from her aura alone, except sergeant Neil, who needed to be called out twice to pay attention.

"Fletch, Pike, I need you two to take your men and set up a four kilometer-wide perimeter. Double up squads, keep your eyes peeled. I don't want anything living or dead to enter this camp without my express permission, understood?"

"Yes Captain," Fletch remarked with a salute.
"Not a problem, Cap." Pike said, saluting right after. Kayden dismissed them, and turned to the rest, who watched expectantly. Kayden unrolled an antiquated piece of parchment, and laid it out on the war table. Everyone leaned in, Morek quirking an eyebrow as Neil placed a monoscope on his eye to examine it more thoroughly. On his shoulders sat Merie, the halfling peering over his head with the telltale curiosity of the mootland people.

"This is the map the Lady Blackwood has provided us. I've already gone over it with Morek and Sketti. Unfortunately, Sketti ate some bad porridge last night and he currently has the shits, so that means sergeant Edwards is up." Kayden held a hand up before Neil could run his mouth. "Hold your questions until the end."

On the map was all three levels of the Silverhill mine, along with its three entrances all within a two mile stretch. Behind them was a wide, shallow thoroughfare in the rock that fed to each tunnel entrance, and beyond it was a series of sinuous caverns that snaked into the mountain before it dropped off into unexplored cavities in the stone, and to the south was a sheer drop in a chasm that might as well be endless. All in all, the mine covered twenty square kilometers, and they had around two hundred and fifty men, women, and dwarfs to spare.

"We're going to set you into temproary teams." Kayden told them, eyeing them to gauge their attentiveness. "Each team consists of two freebooters or rear guard, five from the bulwark, and two men from the linebreakers. That means they will be a team of nine, sometimes accompanied by one of us. No two dwarfs to a squad, we need as many across the board as we can spare. We go in defensive formation. If we find an area that is clear, we double back and announce it is clear. If we find dangerous area with toxic gas or the like, we come back and report it. There are no heroes underground. We step carefully, touch no wooden beams or parts, if you find greenskins that outnumber you, make a fighting retreat until you're bolstered by another force. On day one, we scout, perhaps even day two. By day three I want a more accurate depiction of this map, and by day four I want the greenskins out or turning tail to run. Neil, after two days, you can use whatever explosives Sketti and Morek allow you to. But not before. I'll leave the safety measures to Morek. Any questions beforehand?"

"What if we find something worse than an orc?" Cyrdic asked, granting an appreciative nod from the others.

"Kill it all the same." Morek responded, the first words in over a week. Cyrdic seemed satisfied with that.

"Speaking of explosives, I'm about to bust out of my pants, Captain." Neil said tightly, letting Merie drop to the floor in a huff. "Can I be excused?"

Kayden dropped his head, and he took that as permission. Cyrdic placed a palm to his face. "You keep saying that!" He called to him as the engineer walked out. "That's not what you say when you have to piss!"

---

The first eight hours of exploration left nothing except empty tunnels, devoid of both life and silver. Tunnel epsilon had been collapsed previously, but tunnels alpha, beta, gamma, delta, zeta, eta, theta, and iota were clear, unless some of Solland's ghosts had found ways to permeate the rock. By hour ten, Kayden wondered if the greenskins were still there. However, midnight that night, there were reports of skirmishes in the deep. Out of the twenty six squads, four came back to report combat with greenskins, mostly goblins. They were different than the gremlins one found in the woods. Some had iron balls hooked to huge chains and others wielded wicked scythes, their mail covered bodies clad in dark and pointed cloaks. However, a full day of fighting and the Wyverns had pushed them back, driving a score over the chasm and another two score had been killed by sword, axe, and pistol shot. Only five Wyverns had been killed, three of their bodies able to be collected for burial. It wasn't until near the end of day two, when nearly two squads were wiped out instantly. One simply had not reported back after four hours, and the squad sent after them came back with just two, a man and a woman. The man, a bulwark man, was in a state of mute shock. He could barely eat or drink. The woman, however, was a mercenary from Estalia. After she pulled the fellow out, she gave Sketti and Kayden an explanation. But Kayden didn't believe it.

"A moon? Underground?" Kayden repeated incredulously when Francesca had been taken to the medic. He shook his head. Lady Blackwood and the two dwarfs sat in the tent, the other lieutenants too busy keeping order or continuing the operation, albeit keeping the western tunnels free for the time being while the captain decided what to do. Apparently the moon had been in the shape of a goblin's visage, and green energy had spilled out of its mouth to eat his men alive. Maybe Francesca hadn't come out as unscathed as Kayden had thought.

"Said there was laughter behind the moon, too. In the dark." Morek reminded him.

"Grobi magic," Sketti spat. In fact, the very words did make him spit, as if it left a sour taste in his mouth. "We might need t' collapse that section. Leave it be, as much as I hate t' say it." It was clear he wanted to personally wring the neck of every goblin and orc down there.

"We can't, that's the central area." The Captain lamented, shaking his head. Magic or no, he needed to find a way to push through it. "If we don't take the western central tunnel, half the mine can't be reached. We need to think of something."