A Virtual Year

And so, we come to the end of 2020…

Painting, modelling and wargaming have been a no-go for me this year, what with increasing stuff at work, the pandemic, home-working, home-schooling, home improvements and building work all taking up precious time, space and energy.

While Frostgrave-related activity as been virtually nil, I, like many others, have embraced the world of online gaming.

No, I don’t mean getting shot to pieces by a twelve-year-old on Call of Duty or Fortnight, but online role-playing. You’ve read (and hopefully enjoyed) some of my Call of Cthulhu exploits, but I thought I’d round off the year with something more in the realm of fantasy – my grim and perilous adventures in the world of Warhammer Fantasy Role-play (WFRP).

Oh, and, this being a post about virtual things, I shall provide illustrations, not with physical miniatures lovingly painted by me, but with virtual miniatures of our player-characters and other NPCs. We’ve been able to reproduce our characters virtually, courtesy of Heroforge (other websites are available). So far, I’ve resisted the urge to order a physical, coloured copy of my character (or find someone to print it out for me), but if I succumb, I’ll post it on here – it’d be interesting to compare it to a ‘proper’ figure.

Anyway, on with the tale of Oswald Ruckenstark (WARNING: contains spoilers!)

Oswald Ruckenstark

Here he is: all 7’ of him. In WFRP you can choose or roll randomly for your character’s race, profession and such (as you gain more XP for the latter, this is the option I chose). Going through the character generation process I ended up with Oswald: a tall, rangy, boat hook wielding Human stevedore. Strong in arm and thick in head.

Tiring of the quiet life of a small riverside village, he met another PC; a Halfling ‘entrepreneur’ called Shifty, who hired Oswald as a porter/bodyguard/general dogsbody. Wandering the Empire in search of opportunity, they eventually found themselves in the city of Ubersreik, where we attempted to establish ourselves and earn some coin.

After one particularly good week, we decided to celebrate. After a cracking pub-crawl we awoke, heads splitting, in a doss-house among the rookeries of Spittlefields. This is where the story proper began. What was that banging sound? Why was someone nailing shut all the doors and windows… from the outside?

Together with two more PCs: a messenger by the name of Staigh and Abelard von Nirgends: graverobber, we soon discovered that the building was wracked with plague! The place had been nailed up by the city authorities, and anyone who tried to escape would be met with a hail of crossbow bolts from the City Watch who ringed the tottering tenement.

Shifty the Halfling

After some amateurish detective work, we discovered that the source of the plague was a crazed vampire who lurked in the old passages below the building; attacking its victims from the ductwork that riddled the crumbling walls. Locating this feral beast, we managed to overcome it, largely by pelting it with rubbish until Abel, showing an uncanny knack for getting away with the most madcap schemes, managed to jam a piece of garlic into its mouth. Luckily this stopped the vampire from automatically healing itself, allowing us to batter it to death.

Thus established as local heroes, we took lodgings in the dilapidated tenement (pooling the few brass pfennigs we were able to earn in our modest careers). Our poverty didn’t stop us from window shopping though, and on one fateful day we took to the Marketplatz in the hope of finding a bargain. Perhaps we could make contacts among the artisans that plied their wares and improve our lot?

Alas it was not to be, for soon a scuffle broke out between the market-goers and a troupe of travelling players. We were quickly caught up in the resultant riot, throwing punches, slipping on pies and, for some, taking the opportunity to pilfer a few coins. Among the chaos we noticed a young noblewoman being threatened by some thugs. Wading through the crowd, we quickly dispatched the villains and rescued the girl!

However, alas, our gallantry went unrewarded! A popular fire-eater was shot dead during the ruckus. We did in fact spot the perpetrator: a vicious-looking crossbowman with a milky eye; but the City Watch, arriving to arrest all and sundry, accused us of the murder! Soon we stood before the judge, our pleas of innocence ignored as much as the overwhelming evidence that proved as much.

Abelard von Nirgends

Just as it looked like we were heading for the scaffold, a lawyer appeared – a very famous and expensive one at that! Hired by the noble family whose daughter we rescued, she managed to commute our sentence to three years’ unpaid indenture in the Watch, starting immediately. The next day we were marched to the Watch barracks to begin our new job.

We were put under the wing of Sergeant Rudi Klumpenklug, a seemingly jovial man, who would report on our conduct to his superiors. Failure to meet his approval would see us back on the chopping block. He eased us into our Watch duties gently at first, but, as we followed him around as he doled out ‘fines’, we realised that he was more corrupt than the rest of the Watch put together! Moreover, as we helped put out fires, stop pub brawls and apprehending thieves, it was Rudi who coolly took all the credit!

Balking under Rudi’s dominance, we made the best of the situation as we could. Although he kept the cushier patrols for himself (whilst taking his cut of any ‘fines’ we collected), our reputation among the poor of Spittlefields meant that our rounds weren’t too onerous. However, we soon began to face bigger challenges, starting off with the case of a missing father who, it transpired, had been eaten by a rampaging River Troll. The fight against this monster was a hard one, but eventually we prevailed (Oswald wears a Troll’s ear necklace to this day).

We were then called upon to help a merchant, who had suspicions about a big-money deal he had going with a Dwarf middle-man. After investigating as best we could, we discovered that the merchant was in fact a conman, working in league with the Dwarf, who was actually a big-time criminal, to swindle a handful of rich merchants! Enlisting the help of the inhabitants of the Dwarven Quarter, we exposed the plot, but were unable to save the lives of the merchants.

Thoroughly fed up with our lives in the Watch, where opportunities for honest advancement were few, we decided to prove our innocence. By owing a few favours to the local crime lord, we were able to lure the milky-eyed assassin to an empty warehouse. However, he refused to answer our questions and, after a tough fight, we had nothing to show for our efforts but his mutated corpse. At least, upon the discovery that he was a mutant, we managed to forge a wanted poster for the guy and claim a reward!

Our next job took us out of the city. We were to assist a nobleman in shaping up his recently-acquired hunting lodge and its lackadaisical staff. Travelling with his agent (and new PC) Fridolf Wechter, we fought off a Beastman ambush to reach the place and its suspiciously sleepy inhabitants.

Fridolf Wechter

Soon we unearthed an evil magic painting and the machinations of Chaos cultists, who managed to summon a demon, just as the Beastmen attacked the lodge! After a hard and bitter fight, we managed to see off the Beastmen, kill the cultists and send the demon back to the realm it was spawned from. Battered and bruised, we continued into the countryside, looking for a missing relative of Fridolf’s.

We found the relative’s village almost razed to the ground; its surviving inhabitant’s stark raving mad. After foiling the villagers’ self-destructive schemes, we traced the source of the devastation to a nearby cave, in which lurked a terrifying, gigantic Jabberslythe! The fight did not go as well as planned (thanks to the creature’s acidic blood and the terror it inflicted on its would-be assailants) but eventually we prevailed.

Wearily resuming our Watch duties in the city, we awoke one morning to fins that Staigh had mysteriously disappeared (taking one of Oswald’s boots with him). Before we could find him, we were summoned by Watch captain (word of our recent heroics having reached our superiors). Apparently, a notorious murderer had escaped execution twice. We were to escort him to the block for the third attempt (which, if failed, meant he would go free). Should we succeed, we would be freed from our bondage!

Investigating the man’s background, we discovered that the murders were in self-defence, and that his victims were actually mutants! Still, we had a job to do; but as we escorted the man to his place of execution we were ambushed by more mutants. For some reason they claimed the man as their own, despite his refusal to join them. We fought off these vile creatures and our brave actions not only persuaded the authorities to free the man, but also to pardon us! Finally, we were at liberty!

Tired of working at the docks, Oswald had for a while been spending his free time on the amateur boxing circuit, hoping to become a famous Pit Fighter. During one bout at a local inn, Shifty, Abel and Frid watched as he was soundly trounced by a female fighter. It was here that we fell in with the latest PC: a halfling thief by the name of Clepto.

Clepto the Halfling

With no Watch duties to perform, Oswald was able to continue his fighting career, earning a place in the ring at a local fayre. While the others sampled the various wares, tried a spot of pickpocketing and nearly died in the resultant brawl, Oswald (AKA 'The Boat Hook') prepared to fight. Eventually, after a tussle with a vengeful Goblin assassin, our heroes went to cheer on their friend.

Alas his opponent had eaten a dodgy pie, but rather than cancel the fight, Oswald was forced to fight the Halfling pie seller. Now she had struck up a friendship with Shifty, who leapt into the arena to defend her against his friend. Dismayed, Oswald pulled his punches, but it was the Halflings’ skill with a ladle that defeated the would-be fighter! 

Suddenly, the fight became dangerous as a pack of mutated dogs were mysteriously let into the ring. Yet another battle commenced and it was a hard slog to defeat the slavering animals. Eventually the battle was won, however, and we limped back to the city with a hefty bag of winnings (the odds of a Halfling beating a huge stevedore being rather high).

Free to roam the city, continue our trades and try to improve ourselves (clearly the Gods didn't want Oswald to become a Pit Fighter, so he continued working his way up the Stevedore's Guild), we were soon hired by the Merchant’s Guild to investigate a certain cheesemaker, who was buying all the milk he could lay his hands on. The Guild’s own investigator had mysteriously gone missing and the reward was a substantial one.

After a twisting and prolonged investigation, we uncovered a bizarre tale of kidnapping, murder, mutation and cheese which led us down into the sewers and a confrontation with a mythical race of rat-men known as Skaven! Fighting these creatures in their own environment was very risky and the threat of a violent death in the rank sewers was real. In fact, this was the last time we saw Abel: falling into the filth when his madcap schemes finally got the better of him.

Slowly we recovered from our ordeal, but other trials lay ahead. In order to defeat the mutants, we were forced to report the incident to the local Witchfinders. Alas, this put us squarely in their sights – in their fanaticism they saw us as possible Chaos worshippers ourselves! It was time to leave Ubersreik and start a new life elsewhere.

Sister Loren

Luckily, we had been hired by the representative of one of the many coaching companies to investigate a rival firm, who he suspected of sabotage. We were to travel by road towards the Imperial capital Altdorf and locate a missing coach. Joining us would be a new PC: Sister Loren Eisenhardt; a herbalist-turned priestess who had reasons of her own to leave the city.

En-route we scrapped with a group of thugs who accused us of being sympathetic to the Imperial authorities that had stamped its authority on Ubersreik. Seeing them off, the long journey was interspersed with drunken antics, trouser-less bandits and a case of mistaken identity before we discovered that the missing coach had been ambushed by a marauding band of Goblins, whom we promptly scattered. Disappointed that we hadn’t pinned this on his rival, our employer refused to pay us and escaped to Aldorf, leaving us stranded in the middle of nowhere…

These sessions have taken us through the scenarios in the WFRP 4th Edition starter set, by way of a few stand-alone modules (both official and fan-made). The next leg of our perilous road journey heralds the beginning of that famous Warhammer campaign, The Enemy Within…

If you enjoyed this round-up, I’ll continue to summarise Oswald and co.’s adventures in the new year. 

Until then, here’s to a better one!

Forget Me Not (1920s style) Part 3

WARNING: Spoilers! 

The Diary of Harry Harrison: Mystic

20th October 1922
Arkham, MA

It has been many days since I last put pen to paper, and it is only now that I can bear to write about our final day in Clio, MI.

After discovering our belongings and a mysterious book in the office of Ms. Volker, we were determined to confront her. However we decided to do some research first and so, after tidying up the office somewhat, we headed back to the hotel to flick through the book: most notably the supposed spell to rid us of the infection.

If the book was to be believed, the spell entailed us drawing a complex maze-like pattern on the ground, chopping off the tip of our fingers and allowing the blood to drip into the pattern whilst we chanted some strange incantation. Supposedly this would draw the ‘young of Eihort’ out of us and into the drawing.

We decided to try the spell out straight away and were soon pulling up in an isolated stretch of woodland, where we could perform the ritual uninterrupted. I went first, drawing the pattern in the soil and gritting my teeth as Monty sawed off the tip of my left little finger with his bowie knife. I uttered the strange syllables, but, despite some strange wriggling in my arm, nothing happened.

Undaunted, we decided on a group effort, cutting each other’s little fingers and letting the blood drip onto the pattern together. With our collective support and willpower, and to our horror and amazement, the spell began to work! As our hands glowed with unearthly blue light, a stream of white goo poured out of our wounds, turning into the sickeningly familiar white spider-maggot things before disappearing into the soil. By now I was faint with loss of blood, and lost consciousness just as a horrified Monty pulled his hand away in terror and began to swell up with the creatures!

When I came to, I learned that the others had repeated the ritual in a bid to rid Monty of the infection. After some first aid courtesy of Ossian we slept in the truck, each beset by horrific nightmares. Indeed Reginald suffered so much that he awoke to find himself naked – his clothes torn and his leg covered in bite marks – presumably his own!

Despite our ordeal, and the collective feeling that we had used up what little magical ability we might have had, we all felt much better. We each ate a hearty breakfast back at the hotel, unheeding of the frightened stares from the proprietors. We then headed for Doc Cowey’s, who, mindful of our condition, discreetly cleaned up our severed finger wounds and took more X-rays. It was Friday, so we would only be sure that we were free of infection when they were developed on Monday. For our own peace of mind we would have to stay in Clio over the weekend (if nothing else Reginald would have time to buy a new suit of clothes)…

We resolved to continue our plan to confront Volker and waited until she shut up her office for lunch before pushing our way in. She seemed confused by our accusations at first, but this soon changed when we mentioned Eihort…

If we expected her to be terrified of us, we were sorely mistaken! Instead, she drew the blinds, locked the door and weaved strange motions in the air. Suddenly we were all blasted by the collective memory of what actually happened in the pit below the Cooper House.

Volker had lured us into the secret chamber – a candle-lit place with an elaborately-decorated tile floor that was strewn with corpses! Suddenly from a pit at the other side of the room a hideous creature emerged! Even now I shudder at the recollection. It was huge – a terrifying assemblage of gigantic spider’s legs. One such appendage snatched up Lyn Cartwright as it spoke “WILL YOU BE MINE?” When the poor panic-stricken girl refused, she was squeezed by the thing until she popped!

The rest of us were seized in turn. Oh would that we craven madmen had refused like Lyn and at least suffered a quick death! Alas we insanely agreed to the creature’s ultimatum and were rewarded by having some hideous proboscis forced down our throats as thing pumped it’s brood into our bodies. The full story of why we ran screaming from the house, drove our truck off the road and found our nightmare-ridden selves physically degenerating was laid bare!

Realising the full horror of what befell us, we turned from conquering heroes to gibbering wrecks, running around Volker’s office shrieking like mad men! Thankfully Ossian quickly recovered his nerve and leapt at the witch as she drew out a pistol.

As we shook ourselves free of the madness, we all tried to overpower the woman despite our lack of fighting prowess, but she was unnaturally fast and strong (or maybe we were just too shook up). Shaking herself free of our attacks, she bent over Reginald and, horror of horrors, vomited a tide of the spider things into his face! Soon the poor chap was gasping for breath as they began to burrow into every orifice!

Once again we all went mad at this sight, with Ossian’s arachnophobia pushing him screaming into a corner while Monty suddenly took Reginald for his deceased father. Being a poor fighter I desperately sought for another way of gaining the advantage. Suddenly it hit me: what if I threatened to burn her precious book?

The act of thrusting the tome towards a gas light on the wall was enough to distract her, buying enough time for Monty to come to his senses and make a lunge for her gun. He succeeded in grabbing her, but with uncanny strength she turned the pistol on him and shot him at point blank range!

“Burn the book and your friend dies!” she sneered, as Monty lay with a gaping gunshot wound to the abdomen and Reginald fought for breath as the creatures burrowed into him, sapping his strength.

I’m afraid I may have sworn at this point, and recklessly shoved the book into the naked flame of the now uncovered lamp. Volker screamed with rage and once more shot poor Monty as he vainly tried to lash out at her. The chap’s number was now definitely up…

This did however give me an opening, so, drawing the cosh that I keep for self-defence, I whacked her across the midriff. Reginald was also able to act, having momentarily drawn breath. Grabbing hold of his rifle (which he had luckily brought with him), he shot the evil woman (in the derriere no less), causing her to collapse unmoving to the floor.

Ossian brought his medical skills once more into play as he treated Monty’s wounds, while I frantically wracked my brains about how to rescue Reginald. After nearly drowning the fellow, I hit upon the idea of jamming his head in the toilet and flushing the creatures off. I duly dragged him into the bathroom and did just that. Thankfully it only took a couple of flushes to rid him of the beasts.

But what now? Our struggle with Volker was sure to have been heard and the burning book had set alight a number of other documents. How could we get out of the office with a badly wounded man without being spotted by the authorities (who surely would not believe our story)?

In the end it was Ossian who stepped into the breach. Unlike myself, he had believed strongly in things rational and scientific his whole life. To have his world shattered and the veil pulled so cruelly from his eyes was more than he could bear. Volunteering to take the blame, he waited for us to flee the office before following us, blasting into the air with Volker’s pistol.

As he was subdued by the police, Reginald and I drove Monty to Doc Coweys to be stabilised. He was then taken to hospital for emergency surgery. In the meantime we were interviewed by the police, telling them how we had been visiting Ms. Volker when Ossian went berserk, wrestling the gun off her when she tried to protect herself and inadvertently setting fire to her office. 

Volker’s office burned to the ground, as did a neighbouring building, but her body was not discovered in the wreckage. I can only hope that the evil sorceress perished in the flames, but it is maddening that I cannot be sure. As for our X-rays, well they showed us free from infection! I for one can breathe a great sigh of relief, although I cannot say the same for Reginald…

As I reflect on these terrible events, I now sit in a comfortable room not far from the Miskatonic University as a guest of Professor Armitage, whose links to Lyn Cartwright and her Second Sight Co-operative led us to contact him. He viewed the charred remains of the mysterious book (I estimate that just under half of it was not consumed by flames when I grabbed it as we fled the office) with great interest and listened gravely as Reginald and I recounted the horrors of the Cooper House and what lies beneath it. I can only hope that he has enough clout to send men with machine guns and dynamite to that accursed place.

As for what led us to the house in the first place we still cannot recall. The last two years are a mystery to us, despite the occasional flashback. Monty is recovering in hospital while Ossian awaits a cell of one sort or other. On my part, I am not the man I once was and cannot shake the feeling that I have run out of luck. However, I must now look to the future and promise myself that I will never, ever, set foot in Clio, MI, again!

OOC notes:

A great end to our first scenario as an RPG group! We were within an inch of a TPK, so while we didn't defeat the Big Bad, the conclusion was still a satisfying one!

Playing location: A Victorian town house