...or in the Sigmarite Priest's case under it
The Enemy Within Revisited Cast: Gustav the Minstrel/Dilettante (Davy White) Falco the Ratcatcher (Michael Morgan) Smof the Ogre Maneater (temporarily played by Davy White) Yorgon the Sigmarite Warrior Priest (Jack Roye) Badigon the Boatman (Shane) The old grey haired priest rests at a table nursing a mug of ale. He is surrounded by children and workman alike as he reminisces on his past adventures. “Ah yes I remember that day well! It all started with me and my party smuggled aboard a ship, the captain was a right arse. I sometimes think he was worse than the Knight!” The old priest roars with laughter, his great belly rumbling. “We just spotted that poor sod covered in bolts and floating down the river. When Smof tried to fish `em out, well the big oaf fell overboard! The ship cap`n shot down a winged mutant hangin in the trees and Smof swam upriver to this abandoned boat! Mind you this river was deep! Not even an Ogre could stand up in it!” The priest describes to his crowd, the workmen smiling at each other and the children`s jaws open in awe. “When Smof climbed aboard he nearly tipped the bloody boat over! luckily the oaf knocked over the mutants waiting` there ready to jump him! Oh Smof was in a terrible mood from the hangover and he was hollerin and wailin` as he nearly smashed the boat in two trying to hit the mutants!” The priest takes another chug of ale wiping his mouth with his long beard, he smacks his lips and continues telling his story. “Then the damned Rat Catcher decided it was a bloody brilliant idea to unload his blunderbuss into the abandoned ship! Nearly made my ears bleed when he fired that damnable thing! After the smoke cleared I could see he hit Smof!” The children gasp and the workmen lean in further, forgetting their mugs. “Oh to say Smof was mad wouldn't do him justice! He gave a terrible roar and tore through the mutants like they were smoke! And I was stuck on this f**ing boat slowly drifting up the river I had half a mind to jump off and swim. I couldn't very well let Smof kill `em all! But! I got lucky! There was a winged mutant that the Rat Catcher tried firing at with his thunder cannon… I'm not even sure he was shootin' lead with his blunderbuss cause he couldn't hit a damn thing besides Smof! So the Rat Catcher missed and I whirled around and gave my Hammer a swing.” The old man swings his ale and slams the mug back down on the table. “I barely clipped the poor thing and *Poof!* it went up in feathers! I stepped on the mutant's head for good measure and yelled at the captain to make that damn boat go faster! But...out of nowhere! The most horrible of mutants came from under the depths of the river!” A small girl gasps and covers her face as the old priest smiles and pats her head. “Not to worry lass the creature grabbed my leg and whipped me off the deck so fast the captain blinked and I was gone! Now, this creature was dragging me to the bottom of this river an I was strugglin to break free but to no avail! The creature was too strong for me!” The priest gives a small chuckle. “Or so i thought… I called to Sigmar and lo and behold I broke free of the creature's grasp!” The children gave a round of applause but the priest quieted them down. “Now, knowing Sigmar was watching me… I swam down to fight the creature! I wrestled him trying to grasp his slimy tentacles and haul him up to the surface where i could smite him properly with my hammer! Mind you swinging a hammer underwater is hard enough! So I was running out of breath and I made for the surface to get a breath so i could keep fighting! but the damnable creature thought otherwise… He grabbed me by the waist and the last thing i saw was murky water then… Darkness..” The small girl is crying now and Yorgon quiets her down Just listen my dear girl. I didn't die did I? No! I'm still here! Now mind you, my party members say otherwise but I KNOW I killed the beast! I awoke on the deck with that damnable captain handing me a beer.. Our relationship got much better after that day. Now Smof and Gustav were soaking wet I'd suspect the beast dragged them down as well and I freed them… Though mind you again the water was murky and Smof said he stabbed the creature but like I said it was me who wrestled the creature to death. After a few sips of beer I noticed the Captain had scurried off to the abandoned ship. It's hard to remember much after that… though I'm sure if i had another ale I'd remember!” The old man laughs as the workmen order another round for him and the children beg for the next part of the story. by Jack Roye aka Yorgon Fulic.
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...and a double for his dog
Photo Credit: Fred Barnard (Public Domain). via Wikimedia URL https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Bill-sikes.jpg
The Enemy Within Revisited Cast:
Falco the Ratcatcher (Michael Morgan) Smof the Ogre Maneater (Sedrick Galamonte) Yorgon the Sigmarite Warrior Priest (AKA Jack Roye) Badigon the Boatman (Shane) “I am a simple man.” “Come again mate?” asked the young man sitting across from him. The young man was a gambler, usually found drinking at the inn after a losing streak. The man across from him was the only other person seated at his table. He looked disheveled and tired, giving the impression that the beer he was consuming might be consuming him. He threw a scrap of meat to the tiny dog sitting on the floor next to him before speaking again, “I am a simple man who wants simple things. But simplicity has eluded me for some time now.” The young gambler looked down at the dog and noticed the vicious looking creature was lapping beer out of a bowl. “Mate, don’t you think your dog would prefer some water instead?” “Did I ever tell you about the time I took on the skaven?” “Mate, I’ve never met you before…” “Or when I helped save a city from the demon apocalypse?” “Oh christ.” The gambler started looking around the room for empty seats at other tables. “We were in Bogenhaafen and had tracked these cultists to a warehouse where they were summoning a demon. We dealt with them accordingly, but it resulted in a bit of carnage. There was a Sigmarite priest with us who used his hammer to turn those cultists into quivering piles of jelly, and an ogre who dealt with demons like they were rats on a stick. He sent that god damned bastard-of-a-changeling back down to hell, the same one that framed me for arson. He hung onto the ceremonial knife too, corruption be damned. The minstrel and I dealt with the thugs outside.” The gambler resigned to the fact that his new found compatriot would continue with the story, and audience was of little import. “We left the warehouse in pursuit of the remaining thugs, but the city guards came after us. Not to thank us, mind you, but to detain us. You see, at this point we were framed for murder, covered in blood and leaving the scene of a demonic ceremony. We figured this would all work against us if the guards caught up. We looked like a guilty lot. Not to mention the squashed brains on the ogre’s boot.” The gambler looked perplexed. “You see, there was a female sacrifice who had seen better days. The ogre put her possessed soul out of its misery with one small step.” It pained the gambler to have to sit through such an outlandish story. He was tempted to call the man out, but refrained from engaging him further. “We knew we had to get out of sight quickly. The priest suggested finding a bar and having a drink. You see, while I’m always up for a beer, I felt we needed to lay lower. We had access to a safe house so we fucked off there for a night…” he stopped to take a sip from his stein, “…and it seemed like a good move too. Turns out the whole town was searching for us. You see the safe-house belonged to this man named Baumman. We were working with him on a related matter. Now be aware, you had to be careful with him. He was powerful and could turn nasty on you. Cross him and he’d have his men drowning you in a pool of shit.” The gambler was wondering what kind of edge he would have if he suggested a game of cards. He could probably win back some of the money he lost earlier. “Didn’t matter though. You see, he was our only way out. He sent his men to retrieve us at the safe house. We followed them back to Baumman’s inn. There he told us we were fucked. Whole town was looking for us, and the city exits were under close surveillance. He seemed to know all about the goings-on at the warehouse too.” The man threw another scrap of meat to his dog and reached down to pet him on the head. The hideous beast responded by wagging its tail and looking slightly domesticated, if only for a moment. “This man, Baumman, offered us a deal. Said he would provide the four of us safe passage out of the city if we agreed to transport a package to Weissbruck. We agreed and settled down at the inn. We planned to stay there for a couple days while they sorted everything out.” “What was in the package?” asked the gambler, surprising even himself that he cared. “The package? Oh man, the priest went rat-shit insane over that package. Wanted to know what was in the package. Had to know! He even got the ogre riled up. They were both ready to burn our only bridge out of that town. I saw where they were coming from, but I feared prison all too much. Luckily, being the diplomat that I am, I was able to calm everybody down and settle on a deal. ” The gambler rolled his eyes, and signaled the bar maid for another beer. “So like I was saying, Bauman allowed us to stay at his inn free of charge while they figured out the transportation. And drinks were on the house. The priest and the ogre took full advantage of this. Challenged each other to a drinking game. Almost got lethal as they considered using pure alcohol. I tell you, that fellow drinks unlike any other Sigmarite priest I’ve ever known. “ “How many have you known?” The man ignored the question and continued, “So in the interest of staying alive, they decided on very strong alcohol instead. I joined in as it seemed like there wasn’t much going on. Thought we could get some gambling involved, and that I could trick everyone by drinking water instead of alcohol and win the challenge…” “Mate…” “…which never came to fruition, you’ll be happy to hear. I was out in the first round. Had been a couple days since I had a drink and I lost my tolerance a bit. Normally I can outdrink anyone. Just ask Noseless…” the man trailed off for a second pondering what he had just said. “I miss those days. Simpler days. I wasn’t rich, but I had a job, and a routine. Always met Noseless at the bar after work. Y’know why I went to Bogenhafen? To sell rats on a stick. I barely survived the Skaven and I just wanted to take it easy. Next thing I know I’m wanted for murder and arson. There’s no hiding from that minstrel. Who wants to be hunted by the authorities?!?” The man became tense and alert as he spoke these words. He stared right through the gambler for what seemed like ages until he relaxed and eased back into his chatter. The gambler again scanned for an empty seat elsewhere. “Anyway, we were stuck at the inn watching the ogre and the priest go round-for-round like maniacs. They eventually both passed out at about the same time. It seemed like the priest was less hungover the next day, so it was decided that he was the winner. Can you believe that? A priest out drinking an Ogre?” “I don’t really believe anything you’re telling me.” “During the drinking game we were introduced to this fellow Badigon who would be the one smuggling us out of the city. The plan was to take a boat up the river. Seems like Baumman’s men had their fill of us, so we left early. Departed the next day. Just had to fetch the ogre’s belonging’s first. “While on the boat, the ogre remembered he still had the ceremonial knife from the warehouse. Not the kind of weapon you want to keep tucked in your belt for too long. But he’s a hardy beast and was able to avoid its corruption. Almost threw it off the boat but decided to hang onto it for the time being.” “What did the knife look like?” asked the gambler, wondering if this conversation would ever cease to be one-sided. “That’s your question?” the man replied indignantly. The dog growled. “So we sail off from the city with this Badigon fellow,” the man carried on. “The ogre and the priest are in a bad way. We hoped to have smooth sailing, especially Badigon, who was visibly annoyed with all of us. I couldn’t blame him, tasked with transporting a right bunch of assholes, myself included. I needed just a couple days of rest, but the gods had other plans. Before too long we saw a mutilated corpse floating down the river, full of cross bow bolts. Wasn’t a good sign, and with the ogre and the priest violently hung over, we were unprepared for anything requiring brute force. The ogre tried to scoop the cadaver out of the water but fell in after it…” “Shocker.” The bar maid brought the gambler another beer. “…Another riverboat came into view and it was at this moment that Badigon’s mood changed. He told us that we were being watched. He spied something in the tree and shot it down with his crossbow. It was an owl with hands. A freaky looking thing. Then all of a sudden some tentacle creatures appeared in the water and started swimming towards the ogre. You want to know what happened next?” At this moment a seat opened up at a table filled with dwarves. The gambler quickly switched over without saying a word, leaving the disheveled man to drink alone with his dog. Un-phased, he reached down and patted his pet on the back. Muttering to himself he said, “It all was so simple once, but there’s no going back.” The man put a coin on the table and waited for the bar maid to bring another drink. by Michael Morgan (AKA Falco) A Smiting we will go
Photo Credit: ©AaronMiller@DeviantArt URL http://aaronmiller.deviantart.com/art/The-Ritual-342481946
The Enemy Within Revisited Cast:
Gustav the Minstrel (Davy White) Falco the Ratcatcher (Michael Morgan) Smof the Ogre Maneater (Sedrick Galamonte) Yorgon the Sigmarite Warrior Priest (Jack Roye) (Played this session by Shane) Jean the Bretonnian Knight (Vin Rampal) (Played this session by Michael Morgan) The recounting of this dark night is not perfect or complete. I fear that by including too much detail some power will be given back to the darkness that was already so close to overwhelming us that night. Jorgen, suddenly looking very sober and taking on a terrible aspect rushed the door and slammed his warhammer into the thick timber. The wood was no match for Imperial steel and the boards gave way. Rushing forward we realized just how close to crisis the town was. Crates had been cleared to the sides and the floor had been marked with patterns that refused to come into focus and made our eyes scream. Every brush with this deepest evil makes one feel so small. The power trying to get through.... let's leave it at that, lest I lose control over this quill. With Jorgen's roar we could see the cowled men turn in confusion. They were standing in a circle with the largest, Tuegen we presumed at the time, standing in the middle. I stood stunned for across the circle was the spitting image of myself. What a terrible two weeks this truly has been. Not once but twice has my likeness been borrowed. That I should be so comely that the very gods would use it to play with the fates. I watched in horror as my own voice boomed out and gave orders to our most loyal Ogre, Smof. As we lost our impetus for a moment we were rushed by the pair of thugs standing lookout in the shadows a little ways a way. After that things become a confusing series of moments and it is impossible for me to be certain of the order of events. Both the warrior-priest and myself were laid into by the thugs. I was most certainly doomed, having been caught flat footed except for the vicious intervention of Little Gustav. While he was being savaged I managed to get some solid strikes in, though I was not successful in putting him down. I did see Jorgen charge into the make-shift temple, throwing the man on him to the side. His hammer had taken on a fierce glow and blurred into an arc that passed through one of the masked man's head. Sigmar's wrath is a glorious thing to witness and I do not lie when I say I was glad to be there. Smof could be heard bellowing and there was the terrible crashing of wood being hurled and torn apart. Jean, Falco, and myself quickly laid the thugs out and poured into the room to help our comrades in this desperate battle. Upon entering the room I could feel my body go into revolt. It was a most hideous feeling but I could feel the ring and those unseeable marks call to my body and lighting every nerve. I felt most alive and full of vigour. To lose control of ones own body like that so easily is most disheartening. We really are things of such minor consequence. Mere playthings of things beyond our control. We heard a shout and from the back of the warehouse two more guards entered. I don't think they expected anything close to what was happening in that building. Smof still trying to wring the poor fellow caught a blow straight to his gut plate. A second strike from the side would get through his guard as well. They might as well have been hitting him with eels for all the good their weapons were doing against his huge frame. The Bretonnian as well was proving to be a frustrating target. I thought then that maybe things would truly go in our favour. It was at that moment that some sorcery revealed itself and Smof was briefly engulfed by the most unnatural flame. Sickly green and the most vibrant blue licked about him but I think it's fury paled to the roar emitted by the great ogre Jorgen had driven his foe to his knees, the wide eyes visible from under the hood. We really were taking the fight to them Jean and Jorgen relentlessly pommeling. I myself had slashed one of the traitors with a gallant strike from behind. At this time Jorgen, began to fall back chanting to Sigmar and by my own mortal soul Sigmar heard. At that time, across the circle the Daemon threw a dreadful force that squealed through reality. I saw a shimmering shield flash round Smof and the very energy just summoned was repelled and turned back on it's very caller. The Hammer protects. At this point the cultists began to break. Teugen ran screaming from the ritual his nerve broken. We fought our separate battles, Smof sticking the shapeshifter with a deadly looking dagger. The thing's terror was visible as the blade pierced it's flesh. However, during all this we failed to notice the oily smoke coalescing within the large pentacle into some shape that defied all that was sane. Someone screamed. by Davy White (aka Gustav) Because Sigmar Provides
Photo Credit: Tarolp©digital-art-gallery URL http://digital-art-gallery.com/picture/15953
The Enemy Within Revisited Cast:
Gustav the Minstrel (Davy White) Falco the Ratcatcher (Michael Morgan) Jean the Bretonnian Knight (Vin Rampal) Yorgon the Sigmarite Warrior Priest (Jack Roye) Special Guest Re-appearance Smof the Ogre Maneater (Sedrick Galamonte) After several failed attempt to scale the Steinhager Manor’s wall and what seems like an age of falling and tumbling, and not at all the entertaining kind that anyone might want to pay to see we eventually managed to exit the mansion grounds. But not before the ever entertaining Barber Surgeon decided to sacrifice himself to buy the rest of our party sometime. I wonder if we’ll ever set eyes on the silver tongued stylist cum surgeon again. Jean’s sideboards certainly hope so. Once over the wall the cries from the watch alerted other nearby guards and suddenly we had guards on our tail. We lost the Bretonnian Knight in the marketplace (mind-bogglingly remaining cool and even-tempered enough to be browsing fleur de lais kerchiefs). If only they could have lost the watch as easily. Gustav and Falco hurried through the crowds pausing only long enough for our devilishly devious dilettante to give his hat to an innocent bystander. The portly chap seems more concerned with filling his face than covering his head but deciding not to examine the molars of this particular gift horse he accepts the feather plumed bonnet and returns to selecting sausages with his sausage-like fingers. As they slip away, they weave through the streets on the way to the safehouse location and begin to think they may have lost their pursuers. Just as they think they’ve evaded their pursuers Falco rounds a corner and runs smack bang into a spitting image of himself. He is too stunned to do anything but gawp bemusedly as his twin winks and disappears behind him quite literally disappearing into thin air. This would not be so bad if the twin was not beingly closely pursued by a huge thronging mob who have witnessed this Falco double lighting fires in Bogenhafen buildings on the other side of town. Recognising another setup, he quickly runs in the opposite direction of the lynch mob closely followed by a fuschia faced and profusely panting Gustav. A chance meeting with a Sigmarite priest sat supping beer near his temple sees them duck inside his Sigmarite Temple for Sanctuary. Though this half cut and well rounded priest looks far from the archetypal Sigmar he’s a big fellow and Gustav and Falco decide that if he can wield his hammer half as expertly as he handles his ale then he might be handy to have around. Besides which this godless band could certainly do with a little in the way of faith. Offering both his axe arm and his orders robes for disguises the trio press on to the safehouse hoping to find Jean. Our Bretonnian meanwhile notices them but is occupied with nearby guards. When asked by the watch if he’s seen the pursued men he points thim in the wrong direction and then proceeds to follow the sounds of commotion that he can hear north of him. As he nears the mob he merges with them and follows for a while to ascertain their purpose. It turns out the mob are chasing a small group of men of whom a small bearded fatman is the most distinctive individual. Jean watches as the crowd confront a chubby fellow with a beard who is inexplicably wearing Gustav’s hat. Confused but not confounded by this he joins in with the voices claiming that the man is one of the wanted group. “Yes that’s him. Burn him” goes up the cry from a strangely Bretonnian tongue and the crowd ‘geed on’ by our valiant, and honourable knight proceed to beat the fellow half to death. Jean let’s them leave but not before fighing his way to near the front of the crowd. Some might have expected a knight to rescue this man. But this one was more concerned with retrieving Gustav’s hat as well as aiming a few kicks at the unfortunate man of mistaken identity. And who says chivalry is dead? :) At the SafeHouse our party regroup and press on towards the likely destination of tonights ceremony. The Sigmarite robes are offered but the pompous knight refuses outright. Arriving at Warehouse 13 it seems clear that this is the place. A few ‘key individuals’ among them Teugen and the devious monster masquerading as a paige. The place though guarded is not impregnable and Falco sneaks closer to the warehouse on a reconnaisance mission to suss out the area and viable entry points. Though there seems to be only one large main door there are numerous grated windows around the building that have been boarded up for added measure. While they don’t suggest an entry they do seem likely to provide a vantage point so with that Falco sneaks towards the warehouse to peak inside. What he sees inside makes him catch his breath. A number of men in grey hoods and cloaks stand chanting around a pentagram. A wide-eyed with fear (but seemingly drugged) woman has been strapped to an altar and is being held ready for sacrifice. No sooner does he have time to take this in than a huge, hulking figure of a man thing lumbers into sight and appears to come directly over to the window. Before Falco can hide himself, the huge figure pokes his eye up to the boards and promptly declares. “Falco! You’re late!.” The voice is unmistakeably Smof’s but what he is doing here in the midst of a strange cult? It’s a question that will need answering later. For now though a sharp, harsh, but somehow strangely familar voice shouts “Smof! Get over here with that dagger.” Yes Gustav comes the reply from the dim witted Oaf and he plods off. Falco who has seen enough to be concerned but understands nowhere nearly enough of what’s going on to make a decision himself goes back to attempt to explain the inexplicable to the rest of the group. There’s a cult ritual going on of which Teugen seems in charge and a poor unfortunate is to be sacrificed but as untoward as that is it’s nothing compared to the real bombshell. Smof the Ogre is with them dressed in cultist robes and appears to be taking orders from another Gustav. As a long discussion takes place about the best course of action the Sigmarite Priest Yorgon loses what little patience he possesses. Shouldering his hammer he sets off directly towards the warehouse. Let them waste their time in chatter, when the only true course of action was plain to see. There were forces of chaos in need of smiting and Yorgon felt like this was a damn fine day for a good smiting. My last recollection of the calm before the storm was of Yorgon staggering purposefully but not particularly straighly up to the warehouse. One swing of his hammer and the huge wooden door was rent in two and collapsed inwards held only by the now twisted clump of metal that used to be a hinge. The last thing the cultists saw was the broad smile from the huge priest as he swung his hammer back into position upon his shoulder. It was then that the smiting began :) by Noely |
Noely Been a fan of Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay since the 80's. The Enemy Within always stood out as a classic and at the time, and arguably since there was nothing like it. And these pages are my homage to it. Welcome!Enter adventurers! Leave your weapon at the door, grab an ale and make yourself at home. And don't forget to subscribe while you're here. Archives
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