Showing posts with label Altdorf. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Altdorf. Show all posts

Sunday, 15 January 2012

The Van Tanncred Sword [Warhammer] Blind Beggar Inn


Angestag 7th Ulriczeit 2522

It is freezing on deck where I sit now. My breath clouds white from my lips which nip from the icy air. The sky is clear overhead with the last stars fading from the newly rising dawn, of which only the brightest stand defiantly in her gaze. The blue lightens to the yellow of hot metal, though no heat is to be found here in Ulric’s month. We march ever forward to the day of least light that of the longest night, a little way off but not long. Frost coats the deck like a dusting of fine ground diamonds, a bitter beauty. Peace hangs like a mist.


Not many are moving on board, not any who do not need to be that is. I myself am sat with as many layers as I could don. A rough blanket is folded beneath me to keep from the chill. I have another over my legs. Against all common sense I am awake and writing on some of the fresh parchment I acquired in Altdorf’s markets. It is not my best script as these new gloves are stiff but it is better than blackened  shriveled fingers the sailers of Erengrad tell of. My ‘acquired’ hat protects my head.
I awoke to find the sky still starry like a dark embroidered gown and the false dawn showing the promise of things to come this morn. All in our quarters slept soundly in all their various fashions, dark mounds in a room warm from breath and bodies.
My mind was calm but perfectly awake. No reason. I just opened my eyes and felt no need to stay in the bunk. I wanted to come outside and watch the sun rise. A new day in my new life.
Now that the sun has risen I write. Writing soothes me. You are the friend I need never fear of loosing. I do not need to pretend to be anyone other than who I am whilst speaking to you. You are silent and patient. You do not judge my innermost thoughts and desires. You do not heap scorn on me for feeling or thinking the way I do. You are my mirror where I see what really is, the quiet room where I can listen to the echo of truth. 
It is two weeks since I woke in Marienburg last and so much has changed, such a long time in my mind. You already know the tale of there to here, but what of the events I have not spoken of? What happened in the Blind Beggar in Altdorf?
Grunnd’s suspicions were right. It was a night of little sleep and much disturbance. 


The first time I woke to a man being shown the short way down the stairs for having turned the handle on the ‘wrong door’. Grunnd does not hold back when he hits. When he came back to the room he replaced the chair below the door and dismissed the encounter. “We’ll know soon enough what is to come. That was only the beginning of tonights entertainment I think.”
He shook his head and asked me outright. “Tell me mouse. Who exactly is your father? More importantly, what lengths would he be willing to go to get you back? What are we facing here?”
The questions felt like a chiding, in fact I was almost embarrassed to admit I had not considered the full consequences of who I am and how it would affect how long I would be free for when I ran. I explained that my father is Johann Eisenjaeger. One of the wealthiest, most successful and consequently probably one of the most powerful Marienburgian merchants alive. Though the power struggles and posturing of merchants is a politically turbulent and wholly labile affair. At home, to me, he is just ‘father’. I admitted that I had assumed very naively that I would be free to make my way in the world and that the loss of one daughter would not be of much consequence. It seemed I was wrong. 
Grunnd agreed that it was rather short sighted of me but that we would deal with what came. He then asked me out of interest what the circumstances were that caused such a well placed young lady to run away in the first place? From a life with such promise as to be the daughter of a highly successful merchant? What was so wrong?
This brought back memories I would rather not have faced at that time of night. I decided to be brief and not delve into a history that would go dredging in the deep. 
“I am sorry. I am not trying to be awkward but I do not wish to discuss in full my reasoning tonight, another time perhaps, but here is the quick of the tale. My father wished me married to one of his close friend’s sons, an ally if you will. I could not dissuade him from this decision as I had done in the past. I lost my heart long ago to the seas of Manann and I will not be forced to settle for less than what I lost. On the day of our wedding my brother helped me make my escape. I did not arrive at the temple where my groom and future family waited. I took flight and stayed with some of Andreas’s friends before deciding to make my own way. You know the rest. I chose the wrong man to fish from.” 
Later after sleeping what felt like moments, I woke. I threw myself from where I slept into a bleary upright. My limbs trembled with the urge to run or fight while my eyes fought to remain open, trying to make sense of why I was standing. The sound of Grunnd’s voice told me this was it. I loaded my pistol hastily,  fumbling and turning to the door as I heard the sound of men outside in the hall. Within a heart beat Grunnd threw the chair through the window with no warning. The shattering glass shocked my tired nerves and my pistol went off, firing through the closed door. Then, the shriek of a man in pain. I’d shot someone through the door! A voice yelled “Get the girl!”. It was me they were here for.
It all happened in a blur of confusion after that. Grunnd ordered me away from the door. Moving toward the window and I caught the tip of a pistol edging round the jagged frame. I threw my back against the wall and began hastily reloading. If only I had a second pistol, a rapier, something. Grunnd gave our assailants the opportunity to rethink their course of action before the repercussions began. He gave me the choice. This was it. Did I want to end it all and go back to my father, or did I want to stay here? “What will it be little mouse? Predator or prey?” I chose the now, my freedom.
All but one of the hired men died in what ensued. The one Grunnd tackled down the stairs as he tried to flee, I am not so sure of. I believe he and Storm Breaker may have had some unpleasant words. I think Grunnd would have left him as a messenger to go back to Albrecht. 
Not wanting to have to deal with the Watch he bade us move quick. Stefan gave the dead their rites as we looted the bodies. I was quietly pleased to find myself that second pistol and a hat to add to my disguise. I was to go with Stefan and Hans as men together to the Temple of Sigmar, to await the morning before going to the Blue Bird. Grunnd took Danielle but not before I had given her one of my brother’s coats to make her disguise as me all the more convincing. 
No more excitement happened that night. We left the temple with the rising sun and arrived at the quayside to find Grunnd and Danielle were safe also. As they approached Grunnd smiled “That’s a fine hat mouse.” I nodded and smiled. No use for pleasantries, Stefan in is inimitable style handed me his bag and strode up the gangway to rouse the captain. 


I followed his course with my eyes. Watching his serious expression. His gate full of importance. The man who appeared was not who should have been there. It was Albrecht. My heart fluttered and ice ran under my skin. A trap! I drew my new hat over my eyes and whispered to either side of me who it was. I squinted sideways down the wharf but could not see any armed men. Grunnd rattled along the gangway after Stefan and demanded what was happening. I could not hear much but I imagine from what I know now Albrecht was asking if anyone had seen me as he had heard I was to be onboard. Grunnd yelled at me “You boy! Bring me my belongings.” Against every voice in my mind I made my way on to the boat at which Albrecht took his leave. With not so much as a look at me he handed me a note while passing with instructions to give it to ‘my master’. I made sure to keep my hat tilted but did not have a problem disguising my voice. My throat rasped tight as I spoke "Yes sir". 
You already know what the note said. Albrecht knows Anya Eisenjaeger is now in service to the Empire for thievery and is most probably on the Blue Bird to Talabheim. Other than that? Nothing. For we ourselves do not know what the future holds. Snow I suspect, or rain. Rain is one of the few certainties in this life. Considering the clear sky for now and the frost we may have a reprieve to catch our breath.
~ Mäuschen ~

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[First entry - Ranald's Luck]

Friday, 13 January 2012

The Van Tanncred Sword [Warhammer] Precious Commodity


Konistag 6th Ulriczeit 2522
 Life presented me with the embodiment of Grunnd’s question. It demanded my answer.
“What are you little mouse? 
Are you a predator or are you prey?”
Today I made the decision - I am a predator. I will not run. I will stand and fight. I will live. I will feel. I will make my own decisions.
My life has been spent as the pawn in a game controlled by the hand of my incredibly wealthy and seemingly power-hungry father. I am not his piece of property to be traded and used as a ‘commodity’. I am no longer an Eisenjaeger. No longer the merchants daughter. The child has come of age and makes her own life for herself. However long that is will be the decision of the gods.
No matter how I found my way to this point from now on I am here because I chose to be. Not because life and other beings overtook me. I am on this quest to find the Van Tanncred sword - an opportunity of a lifetime to fight in saving the Empire from destruction. I will do the will of the Witch Hunter because his is the fight against chaos. Chaos does not play by rules, it is not pretty, it is not remorseful, not merciful. Fire must be met with fire. All or nothing. I see this now.
News will reach my father that I am now a thief serving my sentence in servitude to the Empire by serving the Witch Hunter Verstohlen. Grunnd told no lies. Pulled no punches.
When Albrecht left the Blue Bird he passed a letter for my ‘master’ Grunnd. Here is what it said -
“He will never let you go Anya, you are 
his most precious commodity.”
Whether this meant he knew I was on board, could see through my disguise; or that Albrecht hoped the letter would be given to me ‘back in the Temple’ where Grunnd said I was in refuge, is unclear. I feel the sickly tendrils of politics and the stench of money in this. 1000 gold crownes is what is offered for my safe return. A price on my pretty little head. I wonder how much I am truly worth to him if back in his grasp?
No doubt my father would tell me he has nothing but my best intentions at heart. That he loves and misses me and that is why he has flexed all influence he can to set the mercantile guilds in his reach to be on the alert for me. To bring his lost dear precious golden child home safe to her family. Of course behind the closed doors of Marienburg where loose lips chatter and twist the fabric of life, home of poisonous gossip, his authority will be in question. “Oh my! He cannot control his own household?” My leaving my ‘groom’ at the altar has most likely offended that most ‘honest’ of families the Ehrlichmann’s. It will be of the utmost scandal among the stalls, the inns, along the wharfs, among the harbourmen, in the washhouse by now. 
If the Eisenjaeger’s were nothing but paupers. If I was a young son. There would not be this furor. No one would care to look for me. I would be considered the lost son - off to become a hero and find his fame, or his fate. There would be no mercenaries risking their skins for the reward. A king’s ransom! Enough to raise an army!
I wonder if I would still be a precious commodity if I were scarred, missing an eye, a limb, my teeth? Would I still be precious if I was found to be with child? My honor sullied? If I had brands or ink marks on my skin, better - my face, like some of the more exotic servants found in the ports? Maybe I could take a vow of chastity at a religious order? Maybe I should forfeit my life in full to Sigmar to fight to restore the balance of Order over Chaos replete?
I must go for now. We are aboard the Blue Bird and ‘safely’ at the beginning of a weeks passage to Talabheim. I shall tell the tale of the Blind Beggar in time.

~ A ~

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[First entry - Ranald's Luck]