32nd Ulriczeit 2511 (from late evening): Blackie; A Chase; First Aid
Ferdinand staggered as he regained his feet, the words “Change” and “Soon” left echoing in his dazed mind. He vaguely thought he heard screams… whether they were another echo or something more real, he wasn’t sure.
The screaming stopped as Gunnar’s axe sent the abomination back to whatever hell space it had emerged from. The book from which it emerged lay smouldering on the cobbled floor. Everyone was fixated on it or more precisely the afterimage of what had just emerged from it. Salundra had seen this kind of shock in soldiers before. She needed a distraction… where was the pet bird, what was its name again? “Blackie!”, she blurted, “Anyone see where Blackie went in all of the commotion?”. The barman, whose name she did not recall, clewed into to what he was doing. He called the bird’s name in an attempt to get the patrons to follow suit. Gunnar wasn’t interested in such manling nonsense and went behind the bar to pour himself a well deserved beer. Neither the barman nor Gustav, the landlord, objected any.
While feigning searching Salundra realised that there was someone else missing. The young man who had been reading the book at the bar was nowhere to be seen. She thought to search for him out back, but first went to check on Janna and the others. Franz waved an ‘okay’ from the Deft Dancer and she knew the former mercenary could take care of things there. She returned to the bar, walking straight through. Gunnar raised his eyes and put his not-yet-half-drunk drink down and followed her. They passed a slightly dazed Ferdinand as he returned. He looked unsteady and took a seat at a table just inside the back door. The barman saw he looked out of sorts and put two drinks in front of him, one tall and one short.
“We should find who was reading that book”, Salundra whispered as they crept into the courtyard. The reek of the outhouse and strong smell of stables filed the cold air with foul odors. Gunnar’s keen eyes spotted an overturned barrel at the edge of a narrow passage, probably leading to stores. They snuck forward. Caw-caw-caw! Blackie shrieked. “There’s that damn bird”, Salundra thought as they heard someone scurry hurriedly away from just around the corner. The pursuit didn’t take long. They’d been gaining when the ‘reader’ took a corner unsteadily. He slipped and went down hard, catching his head heavily against a wall as he went down. The coppery tang of blood hit almost immediately. Again her soldier’s instincts kicked in. She bandaged and applied pressure in moments.
Ferdinand had been contemplating a drink when he heard the bird out back. It was followed by the grunting the Dwarf makes when running. Ferdinand didn’t give the drink a second thought and dashed to aid give aid. A cursory check showed Salundra had done the right thing in tending the head wound. The returned the reader to the bar where he was further tended to by Ferdinand. Gunnar returns to his drink, finishing it in two gulps. He spots Blackie swooping back in through the back door, taking a perch right above the stricken reader and those seeing to him. At a certain point there is nothing more to be done. Gustav says they will bring the man to his room. Ferdinand, Salundra and Gunnar return to the barge. They let Franz know what happened and they set a watch for the night. Thankfully, there is no further excitement that night.
33rd Ulricszeit 2511 (Mondstille Eve): Trade; The Sigmarites; A Hunt; Mondstille Celebration
The Deft Dancer set off at first light, leaving The Coach and Barge and the weirdness of the previous evening behind. Low cloud had rolled in overnight and there was a light drizzle. Auerswald was the next stop. Gele was hoping to turn the money she’d made from the coal sale to pick up some more cargo for onward trade in Altdorf. Franz approached Salundra, Ferdinand and Gunnar early in the day, wondering what their Mondstille traditions were. None of the three were particularly religious, but nor were they against any particular tradition. Franz said that he traditionally went on a hunt in honour of Taal and was wondering if they’d join him, if there was an opportunity later in the day. They weren’t opposed to the idea and Franz went off to ask Gele, returning that there should be time if the trading in Auerswald went well.
They made Auerswald by noon, Salundra accompanying Gele into the town. Here Gele was in her element as she shook hands, pursued hearty banter and followed leads. Eventually this led her to a mercantile office and a deal was struck quickly. Some money and paperwork was exchanged and Gele left the office. “Grain! Good quality and at a good price too!”, she said with a big smile, “A runner has been sent; the stevedores should be starting to load the Dancer by the time we get back.”
As they made their way to the docks, a monkish man, clearly a brother of the Sigmarite faith, stopped Gele on the street. He’d heard of her imminent departure for Altdorf and wondered if he and two brethren could travel with them. She said she’d had to think about it and he let her know where they were staying. She consulted with Salundra and while she was a bit circumspect, they agreed if Janna’s identity was kept secret, it should be okay. She let the brother know and he, another brother and a priest made their way to the barge with Gele and Salundra. Loading had already begun when they arrived and it wasn’t longer before the Deft Dancer was fully laden with cargo. Gele settled the remaining outstanding monies and they departed.
By mid-afternoon they reached a forested area Gele thought might be suitable for Franz’s hunt. Franz emerged from below decks with two bows in hand and a dozen or so arrows. Gunnar had no interest in the tradition and opted to stay aboard. Salundra took one of the bows and she, Ferdinand and Franz set off. Franz was clearly experienced, and he moved with the practised ease of a hunter. His footfalls were light and he steered the others through the wood, every so often kneeling down to examine the ground.
Franz froze and put a hand back to still them. He pointed at a dense patch of ivy climbing over some deadwood. No sooner had he done so than a large stag appeared in view. Salundra nocked an arrow and let it fly. It slammed home a fraction of a second after Franz’s shot, both hitting the animal square in the flank. It ran for about ten yards before collapsing. Franz bounded towards it, moving well for a man in his mid 40s, and dispatched the deer with merciful slash of his dagger.
“That’s one”, he said. “We need one for the feast and one as a sacrifice to Taal”, he continued when they’d looked confusedly at him.
Meanwhile Gunnar had found himself cornered in conversation with Father Markus, the Sigmarite Priest. It had started with him enquiring about the beliefs of Slayers, but had turned to a one way ‘conversation’ about the Sigmarite Heresy and how he was a foremost authority on the subject. He’d been summoned to Altdorf to consult with the Grand Theogenist no less. Gunnar didn’t really care, but nodded at what seemed to be the appropriate time. He showed a sudden interest in the play of the children and excused himself, though was sorry he had as Joris was crying over something he perceived Jerte and Janna as having done… or not done… he wasn’t sure!
The drizzle had stopped and the cold air allowed every sound to travel in the forest. They continued on the hunt, again Franz in the lead. In almost a repeat of the last encounter, he froze, signalled and a doe, a little further than the stag had been, was nibbling on some foliage. They were downwind and she didn’t spot or smell them. Again, two arrows sailed towards their target. Both struck, with Franz’s hitting the doe in the neck. She fell on the spot and he again dispatched her with a hunter’s efficiency. Pulling the arrows out, he said, “We’ll leave this one. She’s a sacrifice for Taal and the forest.” He guided them directly back to where they’d killed the stag and then they dragged it to the boat.
Eugen decided he’d help Franz butcher the animal, but he didn’t quite have the stomach for it. The smells from the boat were good. Maglyn and Jasmina had been cooking all day. Gele announced they’d stay moored here for the night, she quickly gave orders for a tarp to be slung over the boom, creating a makeshift tent over most of the deck, though it became quite cramped with all of the cargo. They set out crates as best they could to create a table for the Mondstille feast. They celebrated. It wasn’t religious, though Father Markus noted that Sigmar would have celebrated Mondstille much as they were now. Looking around the table it was good to see everyone well, even Felix was much improved.After the meal and cleanup, the children were bustled off to bed and Franz produced a bottle of the good stuff, and reminisced about his brother Helmut. He also wondered what had become of him and whether the Skaven had gone after him too. The skies cleared, revealing the heavens again and the night passed without issue.
Mondstille: The Grünberg Canal; Into the Reik
The next morning they made towards Grünberg, Gele indicating that the Deft Dancer was going home for she had been built there. The day passed easily and they didn’t stop in the small town, instead joining the queue to pay the toll and enter the Grünberg Canal, a stretch of water Gele had not journeyed on as it had only been built about five years ago.
Travel on the canal was easy and they made idle gossip with fellow barge travellers. Franz approached Salundra and asked if it were okay for he and Magly to speak to the girls, Jerte and Janna, about playing nice with Joris. She said it was and wondered secretly if they might be able to offer the kind of home for Janna that she could not.
As the light was fading from the day, they exited the canal at Prieze into the mighty Reik. Ferdinand and Salundra had seen it before, but Janna and Gunnar stood in awe at the scale of the river. The clear skies disappeared quickly as the mists oft associated with this stretch of the great river rolled in.
Until next time,
Owen