The Enemy Within Revisited

Ep 20 - No Such Things as Mutants
..according to my scaly, horned, hairy friend with a tail


Listen to the podcast here

The Enemy Within Revisited Cast

Gustav Myrthenbaum the Dilettante (Davy White)
Falco the Ratcatcher (Michael Morgan)
Smof the Ogre Maneater (Sedrick Galamonte)
Gerhard Berger (Tom Kissel)

With Weissbruck a mere distant memory for all of us except Falco we pushed on towards Altdorf. For someone who is now wanted for murder in at least 3 major settlements in the Empire the ear to ear grin that Falco has been wearing seems wholly inappropriate. I thought at first it was perhaps his newfound profession that had him looking like the cat who got the cream. And while he has undoubtedly thrown himself into the business of herbs and potions with gusto, even this doesn’t seem to match the smug smile. If I didn’t know better I’d swear that healing potions weren’t the only fluids the two had exchanged. But no! This is the grubby rat catcher we’re talking about and the image of him and anyone naked is not an image I cared to dwell on. (Shudder!)

After a couple of stops to accomodate Falco’s herb gathering we arrived in Altdorf. No sooner did we disembark then Gustav was accosted by a pedlar (or what we thought to so). After a hokus attempt at selling pots he suddenly started making wild gestures with his hands. Left hand to right ear and so on. I’d have dismissed it as a party game except that it’s happened before but this time the fellow after gesturing to shake hands with Gustav, promptly disappeared. Gustav looked bewildered and even more so when he looked at his palm to find it was now a deep shade of purple and had been applied with ink of some kind. Is this a cult of some sort and why the interest in Gustav? And how in blue blazes is he supposed to remove this stain? Not the first stain on the man’s character I might add. But that was a question that would have to wait. First things first. Some lubrication was called for.

With Badigon off doing whatever it is sailors do when they’re in dock (ahem!), the rest of us headed to the bar for some well earned grub and the obligatory amber liquid to accompany it. While there we had a chance encounter (or so it seemed at first) with a peculiar wizard named Hieronymus Blitzen and his disagreeable. apprentice Hans Schiller. It seems the schemes of Etelka Herzen are known to many and perhaps more dastardly than even we first imagined.

And then the most unexpected of all happened. Our adventures have taken us over hills and down dales, up rivers and down streams, across miles and miles of adventure and excitement but nothing had prepared us for what happened in Altdorf.

Most of us had previously dismissed Smof’s mutterings about Sigmar and the priesthood as being merely insane ramblings, though of course none of us would have dared tell him that to his face. But imagine our surprise when we pitched up in Altdorf only for Smof to declare. “I’m going to talk to my dad, anyone wanna come for dinner?” Putting aside our natural reservations about dining with Ogres (not to mention the early fear that WE might have been the main course) we decided to tag along and accompany him anyway. And Falco assures me that his insistence on packing his Blunderbuss and Ogre pellets were merely precautions.

So we heads off to dinner but while some might have expected us to end up at a swamp somewhere or in some grotty slum, imagine our surprise when Smof marched straight up to the Temple of Sigmar and asked to be let in. The doormen recognizing him immediately duly obliged, and so it was that while relinquishing our weapons at the door someone quipped whether we were also relinquishing our minds grasp with this fools errand. Ogres living in the Temple of Sigmar in Altdorf?

Meanwhile outside the locals were up in arms about the recent ‘No Such Things as Mutants’ edict. And who could blame them? This had the signature of the Emperor but the reasoning behind it had all the hallmarks of a madman. And yet who among our party was the most vocal in his claims that this edict amounted to heresy? Why Smof of course, our agreeable Ogre who once called the Temple of Sigmar his home. Oh the irony. You couldn’t make it up.

by GM Noely

Ep 19 - The Red Barn at Weissbruck
(clippings from the Weissbruck Messenger)


Listen to the podcast here

The Enemy Within Revisited Cast:

Falco the Ratcatcher (Michael Morgan)
Badigon the Boatman (Shane)
Gustav Myrthenbaum the Dilettante (temporarily played by Michael)
Smof the Ogre Maneater (temporarily played by Shane)

3 Found Dead at the Old Schroeder Barn
9 Pflugzeit
By Hanz Spieler

Three men were brutally murdered at the abandoned barn on the edge of town, according to the local watch.
“It was a grisly scene,” said Captain Walter Berkel, who is leading the investigation. “One man was found outside, and he was choked so viciously that his neck resembled a prune. His attacker finished the job by crushing his skull. He must have been a big fellow.”
According to the official report, the other two bodies were found inside, having also been subjected to an intense battery. It was noted in the report that one man died from what appeared to be a fall from the second floor.
The scene was discovered yesterday by some local teenagers roaming the woods. “We do not have any suspects at this time, but we are following a few leads,” said Captain Berkel.

Body Found Outside in the “Barn Brutality” Identified as Local Wool Trader
10 Pflugzeit
By Hanz Spieler

The body discovered outside has been identified as local wool trader Bill Hicks, according to Captain Walter Berkel of the watch. Hicks’s wife reported him missing two days ago. The other two men remain unidentified.

Upon further questioning, it was revealed that Hicks had become financially destitute after making a sizeable investment in a new wool delivery that went missing on the river Bogen. After defaulting on his delivery to the buyer, he had to repay the performance bond plus penalties and above market interest, according to officials.

“When I asked him where he got the money to repay the buyer, he just kept muttering ‘I signed a deal with the devil’ or some nonsense,” said Mrs. Hicks. “I don’t know what happened; I just know he was a good man that fell in with a bad crowd.”
“It is not yet known why Hicks went to that barn or who the other men are, but our investigators are starting to form working theories based on the wool deal gone wrong,” said Captain Berkel.

The wife also told the watch that Mr. Hicks recently started making frequent trips to visit the local apothecary Elvira Kleinestun, which was out of character. “He was complaining about a sore knee, but he wasn’t limping or anything. It felt odd to me. I thought maybe he was having an affair.”

The watch attempted to question Ms. Kleinestun, but she has reportedly gone missing. It is not clear whether the watch considers her a person of interest.

Witness Comes Forward in the “Barn Brutality”
11 Pflugzeit
By Hanz Spieler

The watch announced today that a witness has come forward for the case of the murders at the old Schroeder barn. A homeless man going by the name of Weirdroot Stu has come forward and claimed to be in the woods nearby when the event occurred.

Officials stated that Mr. Stu informed the watch that he saw one ogre and three men interrogating Bill Hicks in the woods outside the barn. Mr. Stu, who lay hidden beneath a shrub nearby, said Mr. Hicks’s assailants were questioning him about the “Angel in the barn.” Mr. Stu admitted to being under the influence of various narcotics at the time, according to Captain Berkel.

“While inconclusive, it is feasible that the “Angel in the barn” is referring to Elvira Kleinestun, the missing apothecary," said Captain Walter Berkel.

Mr. Stu told the watch that three perpetrators argued for a while about the next course of action, finally agreeing on a plan to pretend to draw the other men out of the building. At this moment one of the men left the group and covertly entered the barn. Mr. Stu heard one of the other men order the Ogre to kill Mr. Hicks before the group went down to the front of the barn and began yelling. At this point, according to Mr. Stu, he “started tripping real bad” and could not remember anything else.

“We are attempting to corroborate his statements. There have been reports around town of a group of people travelling with an Ogre, but such a thing is common in this port town,” according to Captain Berkel. “Nevertheless, there is a report of a recent incident at a bar that involved an ogre and a priest. We plan to investigate further.” The watch declined to elaborate on the nature of the incident.

Mr. Stu could not be reached for comment.

Wool Sale Connected to “Barn Brutality” Victim
12 Pflugzeit
By Hanz Spieler

The watch has reportedly identified a recent wool sale to be the missing goods that belonged to Bill Hicks, the only identified victim of the recent “Barn Brutality” murders. The transaction occurred last week between an unknown man and local merchants, according to Captain Berkel.

“The seller was definitely not a local, but I thought nothing of it,” said Jeremy Eiger who bought the product. “Personal details are unimportant in such transactions. He looked shifty though.”

The wool was identified by its packaging, which is unique to the Vosser ranch up north. This ranch was recently appropriated by the empire and turned into a barracks.
“Just about all raw wool on the market comes in bales wrapped in sisal and held together by wires, but these were wrapped in jute and held together with steel trapping,” said local textile expert Joachim Aigner. “Upon seeing that, any imbecile could tell you that they came from the Vosser farm.”

“It was also well known on the market that Bill [Hicks] bought the last batch of Vosser wool at a serious premium, and it put him under. I told Captain Berkel immediately,” Eiger further explained.

Even with another break in the case, the suspects remain at large and unidentified aside from race and gender.

“All we know is that the seller of the Vosser wool has most likely left town with his party,” informed Captain Berkel. “At the moment the leads have gone cold.”

There are a number of rumours circulating, including one that has Mr Hicks and the others working for a demonologist and attempting to force Elvira Kleinestun to concoct some evil formulas. There is also speculation that the perpetrators were working for a crime syndicate out of Bogenhafen and that they effectively rescued Ms Kleinestun while delivering a package. When asked for comment, Captain Berkel categorized these rumours as “Utter bullshit.”

​Suspects remain at large.

by Falco (aka Michael Morgan)

Ep 18 - The Package
or the Sigmarite Priest Takes a Trip :)


Listen to Ep 18 of the podcast here


Falco the Ratcatcher (AKA Michael Morgan)
Badigon the Boatman (AKA Shane)
Smof the Ogre Maneater (temporarily played by Shane)
Gustav Myrthenbaum (AKA Jack Roye)

Such a busy day it has been. A bit of high river murder and some decent profit, but after the display I witnessed from the “Crew” I have for this trip left me with little confidence in their ability to man the ship.


Driven by a need to get to port as soon as possible, I was compelled to hold the rudder for nearly a full day whilst the moronic Sigmarite rooted through my belongings in search of a package. His ‘discrete’ search revealed nothing other than confirming my suspicions that the man is a brainless brute. In the end I told him where the blasted package was and I hear from our resident wordsmith that the dolt actually tried to eat some of its contents after I took to bed. Serves the fool right , I laughed so hard at the news of his resulting violent sickness I didn’t even begrudge being the one to clean up afterwards.


I was relatively sure that once off the boat they could handle themselves but I fear even I must question Baummans judgement on this lot. It seems that even the simple task of delivering a box of Tobacco is beyond them as when they returned the box was still in their possession. Moreover they brought back tales that sounded eerily like kidnapping and common thuggery.

Granted I have no problem with Thuggery but Baumman has never been one to show such a keen interest in anything Common. Perhaps when we finally reach the swamps I can gain an insight into the man’s thoughts, though i have a rough idea yet .. the lot of them are terribly good at chaos and death.


And it is on that note a guard patrol happened to be going by searching boat to boat for some lowlife what dug up the wrong grave. Pissed off the local Baron by making off with a loved one’s remains. Eh four bottles of Brandy sent them on their way happy as a lark .. Though tired as I was I forgot to make sure the good guard captain and his men were on the same page where bribery was concerned .. lucky me he was a keen one and kept them at a distance, Have to remember him see if I can’t get him promoted somehow. Ah yes that brings me to YOU me dear stowaway .. we have some business to discuss.

by Badigon the Smuggler (AKA Shane)

Ep 17 - Messing About on the Water
Or in Yorgon's case... Under!


Listen to Ep 17 of the podcast here

Gustav the Minstrel (AKA Davy White)
Falco the Ratcatcher (AKA Michael Morgan)
Smof the Ogre Maneater (AKA Davy White)
Yorgon the Sigmarite Warrior Priest (AKA Jack Roye)
Badigon the Boatman (AKA 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 over board! 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 I was given a struggle 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 succeed off to the abandoned ship it’s hard to remember 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.

Written by Jack Roye aka Yorgon Fulic.

Ep 16 - Rat Catcher on the Rye
…and a double for his dog


Listen to Ep 16 of the podcast here


Falco the Ratcatcher (AKA Michael Morgan)
Smof the Ogre Maneater (AKA Sedrick Galamonte)
Yorgon the Sigmarite Warrior Priest (AKA Jack Roye)
Badigon the Boatman (AKA 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…”



“…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)

Ep 15 - The Ritual Foiled
A Smiting We Will Go...


Listen to Episode 15 of the podcast here

Gustav the Minstrel (aka Davy White)
Falco the Ratcatcher (aka Michael Morgan)
Smof the Ogre Maneater (aka Sedrick Galamonte)
Yorgon the Sigmarite Warrior Priest (aka Jack Roye) (Played this session by Shane)
Jean the Bretonnian Knight (aka 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)

Ep 14 - The Return of the Ogre
and how Sigmar Provides


by Noely

Listen to Ep 14 of the podcast

Gustav the Minstrel (aka Davy White)
Falco the Ratcatcher (aka Michael Morgan)
Jean the Bretonnian Knight (aka Vin Rampal)
Yorgon the Sigmarite Warrior Priest (aka Jack Roye)

Special Guest Appearance:
Smof the Ogre Maneater (aka 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 :)

Ep 13 - A Knight of Murder
aka Setup, Framed and on the Run


Listen to Ep 13 of the podcast here

Gustav the Minstrel (aka Davy White)
Falco the Ratcatcher (aka Michael Morgan)
Aldor Irelgen the Barber Surgeon (aka Ferrin the Mighty)
Jean the Bretonnian Knight (aka Vin Rampal)

With memories of our recent beating fresh in our minds, it was clear that if we had any hopes of stopping the forthcoming ritual we’d need reinforcements. When it comes to the gift of the gab there is little doubt that Aldor and Gustav could talk their way out of a glue spillage from within a locked suitcase in a room with no doors. However it was proven that they can’t always talk their way out of a good hiding. With that in mind Aldor was reminded that a client of his, a Bretonnian Knight was in town (having tourneyed at the Schaffenfest’s Jousts) and would perhaps be able to lend some much needed muscle to their party.

But first things first. A message from Franz Baumann telling us he wanted a word was too intriguing not to investigate. He’d previously resisted our pleas for assistance. But was now offering us a safe house to facilitate our kidnap attempts. As well as providing us with some names. What could have caused this change of heart? Perhaps the bounty that Heinrich had been willing to pay for Franz’s demise? Who knew exactly. But the main thing is he’d agreed to help and strange though it might seem this Thieves Guild Boss appeared to be the most trustworthy individual we’d met in our dealings so far. A testament to the level of corruption weighing down the Bloated Town of Bogenhafen.


So then, now for tracking down this errant knight. Having been hanging around Aldor’s barber shop waiting impatiently for his daily grooming service we found him quenching his thirst and drowning his ‘bad hair day sorrows’ in a nearby inn. A handsome devil and obvious hit with the ladies he certainly had a high opinion of himself and an exceedingly low opinion of Falco. Assuming Falco’s lowly class status meant he’d immediately undertake his squire duties. We humored him (and told Falco to play along) in the knowledge that we needed his fighting skills. It was also deemed probably best to leave out certain of the less noble details of our plan. Namely that we planned to kidnap a high ranking member of Bogenhafen.


Before we could finish our meals though a pageboy arrived with a message bearing the Steinhager seal. It was from Franz Steinhager asking us to meet him at his home on the Adel ring as a matter of the utmost urgency. Without further ado we set off there, pausing only to tell the guards who barred our entry to the Adel ring our reasons for entering. Aldor’s doctoring skills proved useful here. It appears the doctor has a face that truly does open many doors.


Once at the house we were welcomed inside by the same pageboy and ushered into Franz Steinhager’s office. To our horror Steinhager was lay dead behind his desk in a fresh pool of his own blood. A message scrawled in blood read ‘WHOUSE’ (and then trailed off inconclusively to read either number 13 or 17). There was just time to take all this in when the shout of ‘murder, murder’ went up as the pageboy signalled the alarm and alerted the many watch guarding the ring. No sooner did he do so than the very same ‘pageboy’ materialized in the room.


“YOU KNOW YOU REALLY SHOULD HAVE KEPT YOUR NOSES OUT OF BUSINESS THAT DOESN’T CONCERN YOU”…boomed the pageboy who clearly wasn’t a pageboy and with that he vanished again with the sound of his hollow laughter filling the room.

With no time to lose, the majority of our party decided it was best not to stick around to be arrested and so headed out of the room looking for an alternative exit. The barber surgeon failing to recognize the urgency of the situation attempted to first dispose of and then burn the body. But eventually after a failied attempt at arson he too reluctantly fled after his comrades. Finding a rear facing window that overlooked a large garden and high walled fence we made good our exit from the house. As we reached the imposing wall an escape looked bleak. Thankfully our quick thinking Bretonnian knight had bough an end table from the house and we propped it against the wall.

With Gustav and I holding the table we urged the rat catcher over first. He hurled his dog over then attempted to clamber up with all the coordination of a ballet dancing elephant. As he landed at our feet in a heap we wondered whether we should attempt to toss him over like his dog.

Dusting himself off he tried again to reach his grubby mitts to grab the ledge and stood there on tiptoes teetering on the flimsy table held by Gustav and the Knight. Like a comedy troupe of incompetent tumblers we struggled to scramble over the wall with the voices of the guards raising the alarm and getting ever closer. This was not proving to be the best of days..

Ep 12 - Back Alley Brawling in Bogenhafen
(aka brutally beaten in Bogenhafen)


Listen to Ep 12 of the podcast here

Gustav the Minstrel/Dilettante (aka Davy White)
Aldor Irelgen the Barber Surgeon (aka Ferrin the Mighty)

After a night spent observing the Teugen manor (while pretending to be observing Grubs) under the watchful gaze of the baleful moon that is Mannslieb our party began to feel somewhat drawn and unclean. I can literally feel the taint of corruption creeping beneath my flesh as Mannslieb’s gaze seemed to look beneath my skin.

The Barber Surgeon seems more adept at sleuthing than he is at surgery if the gaping holes in Falco’s mouth and the godawful smell from his mouth are anything to go by. Anyway with Falco out of commission in a gutter somewhere (or perhaps off getting a second opinion on the molars Aldor so brutally and expensively extracted) and the air decidedly fresher in his absence, it’s a party made up of two that again attempt to find the answers to the corruption bubbling beneath Bogenhafen. So after a fitful and chaos haunted sleep in which the chaos moons glib mocking grin loomed large, Aldor and Gustav breakfasted and began to form a plan to go and have words with the youngest Steinhager, Heinrich.

But before they could depart who should walk into their inn but the elder Steinhager, Franz? Looking drawn and troubled in contrast to the first time he’d met the party at the Golden Trout Club, he asked if there was somewhere private to talk. Leading him up to the parties room he would not rest until he’d bolted the door and checked out of the windows to be sure you were alone.

He confessed how he’d been under orders by Teugen in their initial meeting to throw the adventurer’s off the trail but had since learned that the forthcoming ritual would now involve a human sacrifice and at that news he suddenly decided that this was too much for him and he wanted out. But fearing that Teugen has the authorities under his control he has no option but to seek assistance from the only people in town likely to believe his story.


He also shows a rather interesting letter between himself and Etelka Herzen who you distinctly recall as being the woman that The Elves told you eloped with their elf friend and your ex party member Athos. Frightened to dally longer and afraid to be seen in public with the adventurers he makes quick his exit and promises to get word to the party later, once he knows the new location in which the ritual will take place.

As the plot thickens and with half the party off doing god only knows what Aldor and Gustav set off in a hurry to go and have words with young Heinrich Steinhager. On the way they become increasingly aware of being followed. The decision is made to head down a couple of alleyways to shake off any would-be pursuers. In hindsight, this proves to be not the wisest decision when they’re set upon by a couple of thugs who are clearly spoiling for trouble. Aldor seems determined that attack is the best form of defense as he immediately reaches for his whip with the intention of whipping these young ruffians into shape. Or at the very least ‘cracking one off’ and make a run for it in the confusion this wholly unexpected turn of events causes.


A few blows are thrown and a few blows are received mostly to Aldor’s person. If only he was as quick in battle as he is quick-tongued he’d be a formidable opponent indeed. But as more thugs arrive from behind to surround our party and Gustav is roughly manhandled from behind (and not in the good way that he might have paid Shequanda several shillings for :-P), it is clear that this battle is unlikely to go well. As Gustav struggles with a couple of his assailants and a third clubs him across the head he begins to loudly recite what he believes may well be his final swansong when Aldor yells ‘Help! Rape!’ at the top of his lungs. Bracing himself for the seemingly inevitable penetration that must follow Gustav is suddenly surprised to feel his attackers loosen their grip. And the somewhat confused voice of the cognitively challenged brute, says. “Rape? I didn’t sign up to no rape!” There are further murmurs of agreement as the consensus seems to be that as handsome as these chaps are the attackers have little interest in seeking out those particular rewards of the flesh. At least not from anyone sporting a handlebar mustache.

But moments later another voice is heard and at the sight of the watch coming to investigate the commotion, the assailants scarper. How’s that for alternative battle tactics? As the watch return having chased off our would-be attackers you’re relieved to find that it’s the very same two guards that you met while masquerading as ‘biologists’ investigating worm grubs in the Adel Ring. You have never been so happy to see the watch.


So the party escapes with wits and virtue (relatively intact) and presses on to see Heinrich Steinhager. Drawing a blank at his home the gardener tells you that he’s at work so you head to the Steinhager offices. Once there you meet the younger Steinhager who seems most interested in stories of his elder brother’s transgressions. With every damning accusation, his eyes light up and it’s clear there’s no brotherly love in the Steinhager family. At one point, he even suggests that he will reward the adventurers handsomely if Franz Steinhager were to meet some unfortunate end at the hands of the PCs.

While loath to actually kill anyone the party do discuss a plan that involves bringing down Steinhager with Heinrich’s help and in passing it’s noted that ‘were Franz to somehow accidentally meet his end then that would be lamentable but perhaps unavoidable’. And so the meeting draws to a close with a somewhat dubious plan formed with a character of questionable nature and morals to bring down a group of powerful but morally bankrupt high ranking members of Bogenhafen’s elite. And how far could this Heinrich Steinhager truly be trusted?

As Gustav weighed up this question his thoughts turned to estimating the weight of said Heinrich. He was a portly gentleman and our bearded Dilettante doubted whether anyone but his recently departed Ogre friend Smof could either trust or throw this chap very far at all.

Ep 11 - A Study of Grubs, Worms and Crawlers of the Empire
...and that's just the people of Bogenhafen


Gustav the Minstrel/Dilettante (aka Davy White)
Aldor Irelgen the Barber Surgeon (aka Ferrin the Mighty)

Listen to Ep 11 of the podcast here

Sifting and feasting on and through the mud and shit the Bogenwyrm survives and breeds lustily, oblivious to the circling crypt crows that wait to gorge as neighbouring worms heedlessly carry on. As it would happen, these worms would have much in common with the local citizens of that burg.


On Speeking About Grubs, Worms, and Crawlers of the Empire.
Prof. Gustav Menthalbaum

It was a miserable night, looking back on things. We really had no business being out there, under that moon and against those men. That we weren’t cut and left for dead in the sewers like all those others is remarkable. Perhaps our position was so nonthreatening or their machinations were so far along that they figured they could not be stopped. Or more like, the gods would have something grander or more grisly intended for us.

From Fat Men Die in Their Sleep. The Early years of Gustav Menthalbaum.

Aldor and I found ourselves alone at the noisy tavern left to tackle the meeting called at Herr Teugens mansion. Aldor, as you may recall, was our new docktor acquaintance and one of the few locals that seemed at all concerned with the some of the recent peculiar events going on in Bogenhafen. Falco had disappeared again, insisting on watching the sewers for any strange movements into or out of Teugan’s. The fey folke we’d met the night before had not arrived at our predetermined time and place. I would later learn that all elves are deeply sensitive to lay lines and the sewers of men can confuse the energies of said magicks.


Feeling the urgency of the hour the Docktor and I set about on the best way to monitor the suspicious organization without calling unwanted attention or danger to our own persons. Once satisfied with our plan, we headed to the Adel Ring with our journals and several bottles of wine in hand. I’ll never forget that baleful moon, leering massively. I tell you now, I could feel it’s poison seep into my very soul. Despite the wine and my nervousness my mouth was dry and I was incapable of any perspiration at all.

Once at the Ring, we used the surgeons good name to not seem out of place and then situated ourselves in a place with a view of Teugen’s manor. When pressed by the diligent Nights Watch we explained that we were involved in some specialized research on the Bogen Wyrm (please see footnote) best conducted under the full moon of Morrsleib. A bottle of wine and a silver for their continued vigilance saw them on their way.


As we watched the gate we saw the Inner Circle members of the Ordo Septenarius began to arrive. We made notes in our journals of each of the attendees as to be able to describe them to others. Of note, each of the members brought a package, some boxed, other wrapped in brown paper. We waited there for a couple of hours and satisfied that we were not going to see anything more we made for the Crossed Pikes, and Franz Baumann.


You see, or plan from the beginning of the night had been to collect and present Franz and his organization a wealth of incriminating evidence as a bargaining chip. For this information, we were asking for the abduction of one of the Inner Council. I can see your horror but I’ll defend our actions to the grave. You didn’t see the thing in the sewers that they had bound. You weren’t there, when the warp boiled forth and took Piersson at Grunwald Lodge. We needed to hear and have it confessed that something most vile was happening at the highest levels of Bogenhafen’s council. We fully expected Bauman to seize this opportunity to lay some of the merchants low and step into one of the vacancies left in one of the shipping or freight lines. Bewilderingly, he advised us against such a plan and stated no good would come of it. I fear in our desperation we mistook his simple greed as ambition. Our hopes laid low, we began to despair when he recommend we question the younger Steinhager….

Footnote: Though at the time this was a complete fabrication, I did develop a fascination for the Bogen Wyrm and later became one of the foremost experts in the entire Empire on this most incredible creature.

by Gustav the Minstrel/Dilettante (aka Davy White)


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