The Enemy Within Revisited

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5. Write your first Adventure Log post

The adventure log is where you list the sessions and adventures your party has been on, but for now, we suggest doing a very light “story so far” post. Just give a brief overview of what the party has done up to this point. After each future session, create a new post detailing that night’s adventures.

One final tip: Don’t stress about making your Obsidian Portal campaign look perfect. Instead, just make it work for you and your group. If everyone is having fun, then you’re using Obsidian Portal exactly as it was designed, even if your adventure log isn’t always up to date or your characters don’t all have portrait pictures.

That’s it! The rest is up to your and your players.

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Ep 1 - Wanted Bold Adventurers!
Or, going off to get yourself killed

Listen to Episode 1 of the Podcast here:

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Cast:
Gustav the Minstrel (AKA Davy White)
Athos the Wood Elf Hunter (AKA Jim Hauber)
Grimmir the Dwarf Runesmith (AKA Dan)
Albrecht Vogelkopf the Pitfighter (AKA Davy White)

See the world they said. Earn your fortune they said. Well, if my first impressions of this adventuring lark are anything to go by it’s really not all it’s cracked up to be. So here we are, travelling on a coach, ridden at a snail’s pace (by a couple of drunken incompetents) bound for Altdorf. I say snails pace because I do believe that I could outpace our carriage on foot had I the mind. And I say ‘on the coach’ because with most of the comfortable seats being taken up by that whining noble Lady Isolde and her fawning entourage, here ‘we’ are on the roof of said coach.

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And no sooner did we clamber up onto the roof, with barely enough room to get comfortable between the hatboxes and trunks of who knows what finery than the heavens opened. Oh great! And as the cold rain coming down in buckets, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one of our party who began thinking. Could this day get any worse?

Me and my big mouth. As our carriage rounds the bend there appears to be something…no someone in the road. But what’s he or it doing? And why’s he bent over the body of that man? Is he injured? No sooner has the question become a thought than we get our answer. The figure turns and reveals a severed human hand hanging out of the creatures disgusting mouth. A limb which plainly belongs to the now deceased male on the road.

Though human (at least in part) this creature is abhorrent to behold. Its flesh hangs in shreds from its face and hands, and a green foul substance seeps from its eyes. Having spotted a tastier feast in the form of my adventuring party and I, it’s spits out the hand and rushes headlong towards our coach, menacingly brandishing a ferocious looking dagger as it charges.

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The horses, having seen enough of this mutant creature to decide they don’t want to stick around, suddenly rear up in panic and bolt, snapping the traces as they do so, taking the unfortunate driver Holtz with them. The screams from the ladies within are only drowned out by the even louder howls from the poor driver as he’s dragged off the path and into the surrounding forest of trees. There goes our driver, not to mention our horses.

Yes it would seem that this day just got a whole lot worse… Sigh!

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Ep 2 - Blood on the Tracks
A Tale of Mutant Mayhem and Body Doubles

Listen to Episode 2 of the Podcast here

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Blood on the Tracks

Cast:
Gustav the Minstrel (aka Davy White)
Athos the Wood Elf Hunter (aka Shane Martin)
Grimmir the Dwarf Runesmith (aka Dan)

As suspected our encounter with the mutant was just the beginning of the horrors.

No sooner did we round the corner to search for the horses, than we were met with a gruesome sight more blood churning than the last. An overturned coach lay across the road and while the horses struggled desperately to free themselves there was no such chance for the coach occupants whose bodies lay scattered across the road and were currently being dismembered or devoured by a quite grotesque bunch of mutant creatures.

Before any of us could react the Wood Elf had loosed an arrow and dropped a strange Siamese Twin-like, multi-headed mutant and it was dead before it hit the floor, and more importantly before it could warn it’s companions.

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According to Gustav “Those Elves talk to their bows, and tell them exactly where they should fly”. Having witnessed Athos in action I can well believe it.

With him down and the rest of the mutants not yet alerted we took the opportunity to charge these hideous parodies of once human beings. The pitfighter is a blur as he cuts through the mutant flesh of even the scaly skinned leader, like butter.

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Remind me not to argue with this fellow. Nor for that matter the Dwarf Grimmir, who wields his hammer with an almost gleeful enthusiasm for enemy blood as he sets about bursting several of the eyes of this Multi-Eyed Mutant. Even Gustav the chunky chap with the beard is it seems no pushover when it comes to handling a blade as he splits the head of an already Cleaved Headed Mutant in twain.

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Anyway it seems the mutants were already somewhat injured (particularly a grotesque Pointy Headed mutant whose leg is pumping blood from a huge open wound on it’s leg. It seems the coach occupants did not go down entirely without a fight.

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With the creatures now despatched we surveyed the full horror of the scene. Half a dozen humans had been slaughtered by the mutants most of them in the most horrific manner. The half eaten remains of a small child lying splayed across the ground in a cruelly contorted doll-like manner was enough to send a chill through the bones of all but the most bloodthirsty of our party. I noticed that the Pitfighter fellowAlbrecht didn’t even flinch.

Speaking of blood the Elf’s keen eyes spotted a trail of blood that lead off into the brush. It lead to another body who had dragged itself away from the carnage before succumbing to it’s wounds. When he returned the usually placid features of the Elf had been replaced with a look of confusion and concern. He insisted we should come and look at this body and when we got there and inspected the body it soon became apparent why the Elf was perplexed. On the ground, and having been punctured by a couple of crossbow bolts lay a portly bearded corpse that looked like the spitting image of our very own portly, bearded comrade Gustav. Curiouser still Gustav claims no such twin sibling to his knowledge.

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A check of his person reveals documents identifying him as one Kastor Leiberung, the only heir to a small fortune. 2,000GC no less is the princely sum awaiting collection by this man in Bogenhafen. And since he (being dead) will have little use for such a fortune it’s not long before our party form a plan to travel to Bogenhafen and allow Gustav posing as Kastor to collect this inheritance. Motivated as much by the well stocked wine cellar mentioned in the letter as much as the coin Gustav is happpy to make sure that such finery doesn’t go unused. Waste not want not and all that.

Just as we were preparing to dispose of the bodies. It was deemed prudent to torch the mutants as soon as possible. However before we could do so we suddenly saw a gang of roadwardens approaching us. Though suspicious of us at first (and given the sight of bodies all around us who could blame them?) Gustav’s winning smile and gift of the gab were enough to convince the Roadwardens that we were innocent of any wrongdoing. With that settled they decided to remove the bodies and what’s more they even assisted us in our search for our missing mounts.

So before long, and with our horses recovered and hitched to the stagecoach (and the complaining whines of Lady Isolde ringing out in complaint about the delays) we are back on the road, heading for Altdorf and thereafter Bogenhafen.

As the coach speed up to a slow canter, Gustav goes over the plan with the party once more:

“We go to Bogenhafen, claim the inheritance and then fake Kastor’s death. What could possibly go wrong?” What indeed…

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Ep 3 - Forging Friendships in Altdorf
Thoughts of Smithing, Strange Friends & Sigmarite Ogres

Listen to Episode 3 of the Podcast here

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(Translated from the journal of Grimmir Lokrison) – scribed by Dan Harthug

Forging Friendships in Altdorf

Cast:
Gustav the Minstrel (aka Davy White)
Athos the Wood Elf Hunter (aka Shane Martin)
Grimmir the Dwarf Runesmith (aka Dan)
Smof the Ogre Maneater (aka Sedrick Lamonte)

Here I begin my journey into the realms of Man so it is fitting that I enter my thoughts and experiences upon the Mannish medium of paper with ink instead of on honest lasting stone or metal.

I have been sent forth to start my journeyman’s travel to gain more experience of alternate Dwarven craftings and runic techniques. I travelled from my home to Altdorf and I start these writings when almost having reached the city. The journey prior to these writings was uneventful and little struck me as worth recollecting, merely long and tedious walking that provided no inspiration.

It was at an Inn that things changed. I met a man of civilised appetites and who had even grown a beard as best he could for one not of dwarven folk. His name was Gustuv Myrthenbaum.

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When I asked about the note from Crown Prince Hergard von Tassenick of Ostland he grew very excited. He pointed out that the title of “Wanted! Bold Adventurers” meant that a band was needed. Before I had fully comprehended we had a small band (or party) wherein he had added a beardless elf named Athos Reil Lorne. I thought that since this task required travel to Altdorf that little was to be lost and perhaps a lot to be gained as there seemed to be a reward of good gold for good effort.

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At least now I was upon a carriage, rather than wading through the mud that normally plagued the roads at this time of year, and out of the hellish rain that berated us more than the nobles that inside. The carriage was then rudely halted at the sight of a single male being attacked. As it dropped the corpse it was feeding on we all realised that this was some dark chaos spawn that had crept from the woods. With surprising speed it charged forth and was upon us before two missiles flew at it. One of my crossbow bolts missed and flew into the woods. Though it pains me to be outdone by an elf in any situation I must honestly record that the Wood Elf Athos’ arrow shot was straight and true.

After this distraction, we were reminded of the trouble ahead by screams from the woods where our horses bolted dragged off a coachman. We investigated further up from our stranded carriage and found that further mutants had waylaid yet another carriage. Determined to play to my own strengths this time I resorted to ‘banging my shield and yelling’ at the enemy. My armour allowing me to draw the mutant attacks and act as the anvil to the hammer of Athos’ bow. Gustuv was of quicker eye to spot the manner of some of his fallen countrymen after the foul creatures had fallen. He found a himself a doppelganger who had inherited a fortune and he took up the mantle of the unfortunate fellow, one Kastor Lieberung.

After a brief dialogue with road wardens who turned up too late to be of help we proceeded onward and things even improved when half the Empiric ‘nobles’ decided not to accompany our carriage.

We at last found ourselves arriving in Altdorf where we found a compatriot of Kastor. A jovial ogre, named Smof.

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Gustuv and the huge creature seemed to hit it off and I wonder still if fate had some joke in mind as each member of our band made it more outlandish and strange than the previous one. A Man is a fine companion for a dwarf in a strange place, but I find the presence of the others I find somehow not all that strange for a journeying.

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All of this strangeness had turned my mind to other ways of crafting and thing of things in unusual ways. I sought out some fellow smiths where I found some honest toil to focus things in my mind even further. In the red glory of a forge a new glimmer of rune knowledge that I knew but hadn’t understood prior became clearer to me thanks to Grungni.

I returned to find Gustuv enjoying the presence of more of his fellows in a tavern. Having negotiated a way to travel to Bogenhafen swiftly we drank hearty to a fine beginning of many travels.

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Ep 4 - On Fleeing Altdorf

Listen to Episode 4 of the Podcast here

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On Fleeing Altdorf

by Gustav Myrthenbaum (aka Davy White)

Cast:
Gustav the Minstrel (aka Davy White)
Athos the Wood Elf Hunter (aka Shane Martin)
Grimmir the Dwarf Runesmith (aka Dan)
Smof the Ogre Maneater (aka Sedrick Lamonte)

We were woken early in the morning by our captain and my good friend Josef Quartin. It would seem that the rakes having their “run in the slums” met with a most unfortunate (though not undeserving) end. Talk on the streets was that one of them had his head done in by a most terrible blow. Josef and Grimmir both fearing we had been framed and that the murders were staged to look like they had been committed by our ogre, Smof, we fled for Josef’s boat, evading the Watch at every turn. Once stowed below we made off down the Weissbruck Canal to Bogenhofen.

Smof played a dock hand to a tee, his cover impeccable. He’d have done fine as a mummer in some of Nuln’s playhouses. His mustachio was a marvel and I wear my own in his style these days to remember him…

The Weissbruck Canal

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Altdorf is both the Heart and the Bowels of the Empire. One does not miss the stink of that city when on the open water and it takes hours to spit the last taste of the filth from ones lungs.

The trip to Weissbruck was quiet enough and there was plenty of time for observing and note taking. The ogre tried his hand at fishing, literally. Throwing punches and trying to scoop the fish from the river. Athos was inscrutable,but had a hard time ignoring the spectacle. Grimmir was encouraging, I think it was mostly to take his mind off being in the boat. Dwarfs, being made partly from stone make very poor swimmers and tend to sink when placed in water.

Weisbruck

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We pulled into Weissbruck and unfortunately Smof lent a heavy hand causing the boat to rock and cracking the railing. As we worked on lashing the boat to the mooring Athos recognized a tough observing us. The same shadowy figure that was approached by a couple of odd toad-lickers making weird motions at my own person back in the Capital. This thug disappeared into a dockside tavern and Grimor decided to see what he might be up to. The rest of our group waited for the all safe signal and joined our companion for dinner.

Athos kept guard, as it is known, though perhaps not commonly, that the Fey Folke can see through wood. See my chapter “On Elfs Seeing Through Wood but Not Grasses. The Benefits of Thatch”

Barge Ablaze

After our dinner in the inn we retired to the Berebelli fed and drunk. Always a wonderful state of being, and as close to the gods as I’ve ever been.

I had a wonderful dream. The air was filled with the smells of cooking goose and roast boar. Suddenly the boar was on fire and the great hall’s laughter turned to the screams of panic. I awoke to a sleeping berth filled with wood smoke and ogre. A nightmare from a child’s bedtime story.

I miss goose immensely…

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Smof, hauled me from the boat. Two men were lobbing canisters of oil onto the boat from behind some crates, clearly determined to do us in. Athos was hit and frantically trying to smother a fire that had caught his leg aflame. Grimmir, as well was hit and the crude missile caught fire. I was luckier, being doused with the oil but the flame was extinguished before the missile’s deadly brew soaked me.

Smof, with a roar hurdled himself over the railing and onto the dock. The crates offered no protection from his mighty hammer and one of the men was thrown into the far wall. The other thug dropped his oil and set himself alight. Yelling, I followed Smof, emboldened by his absolute dismissal of, and risk to, his own person. I grabbed the burning man and pitched him into the canal. A bolt whistled through the air and I felt a terrible burning on my neck. Smof had pulled me to him and had I remained in my previous spot I would have shared Kastor’s fate, a bolt buried in my neck. His massive form shifted and shielded me completely from our rooftop assailant. It was at that time I noticed Athos had put out his flaming leggings and stood steady. His arrow loosed, was followed by a shout and the skidding of slate shingles. There was the sickening sound of a body falling from a height.

Exhausted, we took in the bloody scene.

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Ep 5 - Shenanigans with Sheep at the Schaffenfest
on Bounties, Boating and Brawling in Bogenhafen

Listen to Episode 5 of the Podcast here
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by Noely

Cast:
Athos the Wood Elf Hunter (aka Shane Martin)
Grimmir the Dwarf Runesmith (aka Dan)
Smof the Ogre Maneater (aka Sedrick Lamonte)

As we surveyed the bloody scene around us, the realisation dawned on most of us that death and destruction are never far away from our merry band.

A quick check of the pockets of Adolphus, the menacing fellow* from the roof, revealed a letter along with a sketched likeness of Gustav (aka Kastor)

*It should be said he looked a lot less menacing and a damn sight less intimidating than previous encounters as he lay on the floor with his skull split in twain seeping blood.

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With the bodies quickly disposed of (though the Ogre Smof’s clean up method of attempting to eat the victims went down less well with the party) we hurried to help extinguish the remaining flash fires on the barge. Gustaf in particular (after pausing to vomit the contents of his stomach over the side of the barge) had harsh words with the Ogre about such a departure from the ‘civilised norms’ as being ‘just not the done thing’. Smof for his part seemed genuinely embarrassed, sheepish even, (more on sheep later) as he attempted to snuggle a quickly severed arm into his rucksack.

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And so on to Bogenhafen after a few days rest and recuperation aboard the Berebelli we arrived on the morning of the Schaffenfest and with the noise and general hubbub telling us that the carnival atmosphere was already well under way.

As the sights and sounds of the city, with its raucous atmosphere, came into view Smof clapped like a child at the thought of the fun to be had at the Schaffenfest. Gustav for his part fidgeted worryingly at the bristles of his beard (which still contained the stench of paraffin) and worried that with so many eyes at the Schaffenfest any further assassins would be nigh on impossible to spot in the crowd. But as the boat slipped further up the river towards the wharfside the paraffin stench was masked somewhat by the smell of roast boar which filled his nostrils and began to lighten his mood. And as Josef dished out wages to all the party his mood soared as thoughts sudddenly turned to consider the potential fun that a fellow with a full coin purse could have at the Schaffenfest. Just how much wine, women and song does 60 shillings buy one in Bogenhafen in any case? It was a question Gustav intended to discover the answer to.

So with Josef disappearing to flog his cargo we set to exploring the Schaffenfest. As we walked easily through the thronging masses we were again struck by the usefulness of having an Ogre in the party. With Smof leading the way and with people seemingly keen to not get trampled underfoot it was a simple manner of following the giant hulk towards the main attractions of the Schaffenfest, situated just outside the main gate.

We arrived at the East Gate exit (though not before a brief detour at the Dwaf’s behest to find a smithy which was of course closed because of the Schaffenfest- obviously) Good gods do dwarf’s ever lighten up and forget about work? Anyway the East Gate opened onto a livestock market. Smof wasted little time in hurrying over to the auction ring and bidding for the first item on the auction listings. Half a dozen ewes. As the price rose, Smof salivated more and more and I swear the last several bids were against himself as he drove up the price by bidding against himself in his haste to purchase the fluffy little delicacies. Eventually with the sheep acquired he wasted little time in bustling over, to admire his prize acquisition.

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I shall never forget the cute primitive look of love and affection that Smof and the Sheep shared as their similar intellects met and gazed longingly at each other. Nor indeed will I easily wipe away the looks of horror on the faces of the bystanders in the crowd who watched as the Ogre snapped the spine of the sheep and casually slung the carcass across his shoulder. That is a sight I would have spared those of less delicate consitution than myself, particularly the children in the front row.

Hurrying on we stumbled across a Festival Court tent in which we found a smelly Dwarf being pummelled with fruit by young urchins. The scene tugged at the heartstrings of the more compassionate amongst our group and so after much pitiful pleading from said Dwarf his bail was offered and he was released. It wasn’t long before he was tugging at both our purse strings and our nerves as the odious little alcoholic refused to budge from our side. The smell was most foul and I swear the rotten fruit that he reeked of seemed to be a considerable upgrade on the putrid stench that lurked beneath. In the end he was given some brass pennies to leave us alone ‘doubtless to go and spend in the nearest drinking hole’.

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With the smell of the Dwarf now but an all too recent memory we hustled onwards only to come across a wrestling ring. Again Smof’s eyes lit up at the thought of satiating his other carnal urge of fighting and it wasn’t long before he was stood in the ring as the fearsome wrestler eyeballed his Ogrish oppenent. Or at least eyeball to naval as the huge tower of a man was suddenly dwarfed (apologies Grimmir) by the Ogre who opposed him.

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With a good deal of our money riding on our Ogre we were most dismayed to realise that the previously panting exhaustion displayed by the wrestler were mere charade as he skipped sprightly around Smof and proceeded to rain blows upon him. With all pretenses of a wrestling match discarded this was a no holes barred brawl in which things were not looking good for Smof. Though the strength and brawn of the Ogre are without question the same cannot be said for either his guile in the ring or his agility around it. I swear near to the end of fight I saw the Ogre Tower almost topple as his knees gave way but in the end he summoned up a last ounce of strength and delivered a classic uppercut that any creature would have been proud of.

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The blow lifted the wrestler clean off his feet and as they landed again he stumbled forward awkwardly before pitching facedown to the canvas. A win – just. To our relief Smof (though looking somewhat beaten up seems okay) and more importantly the money we bet on the Ogre is also safe and secure.

Okay now where to spend our winnings…?

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Ep 6 - Fun & Frolics at the Freakshow
and The Rat-catcher Returns

Listen to Episode 6 of the Podcast here

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by Noely

Cast:
Gustav the Minstrel (aka Davy White)
Grimmir the Dwarf Runesmith (aka Dan)
Smof the Ogre Maneater (aka Sedrick Lamonte)
Falco the Ratcatcher (aka Michael Morgan)

So here we are still at the Schaffenfest a human minstrel, a Dwarf, an Ogre sporting a Handlebar Moustache, and an elven hunter (who is nowhere to be seen. No doubt off butchering some defenceless doe-eyed deer somewhere). And just as you think our merry band couldn’t get any stranger we bump into another odd fellow. While most of the sights and smells of the Schaffenfest were quite delightful, there were some things that I’d rather not have seen, smelled or tasted. And just as I was thinking I’d seen it all. I saw this shifty looking fellow peddling vermin masquerading as some kebab-like sweetmeats.

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As I made a beeline away from the gruesome snack, some of the other party members swarmed the man to buy his wares. Yuch! Anyway it turns out Gustav knows the man. Is there anybody that man doesn’t know? That fellows certainly gets around.

Anyway before you know it the greasy looking chap has joined our merry band complete with his yapping little mongrel dog.

We pressed on, but before not very long at all we passed a Tarot Reader’s tent. “Mumbo jumbo” says I, “Let’s go and get our cards read” declares Gustav. Unbelievable!

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Speaking of unbelievable, that’s pretty what I made of some of the Tarot Readers revelations. Dark and death in narrow watery places. Nonsense, we already left the canalways. And any old charlatan could trot out a few random numbers and colours and I fear our gullible bearded friend Gustav would swallow the info almost as quickly as he swallows the wine that’s never very far away from his lips.

On to the Freakshow then, where no doubt some of my bizarre travel companions felt right at home. There we saw a all manner of bearded freaks and I swear I saw Gustav winking at a rather plump bearded lady. Yikes!

Perhaps the most ‘exciting’ incident of the day was the dramatic escape of a 3 legged goblin from Dr Malthusius’ Freakshow. The shifty, stinky fellow tripped the beast and it hurtled headlong into the brick wall that is Smof the Ogre. This proved to be just the first of the goblin’s escape attempts but more of this later. Malthusius was delighted with this initial capture and rewarded us handsomely with silver.

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We used some of our silver during a quick visit to a pharmacist where a rather attractive blonde peddled all manner of drugs and poultices, most of them of a surprisingly high quality. Elvyra Kleinestun was her name and though some of my companions mentioned she was rather forthright and flirtatious. I have to confess that’s “just the way I like em”

Anyway as I said earlier the goblin escaped a 2nd time while we took in the show but this time it was too quick for any of it’s pursuers and promptly disappeared down into the sewers. Not sure why we drew the short straw to go and fetch it though I admit the money offered to do so was a quite substantial amount. But after several hours of slogging around in the putrid effluent below I was beginning to question the decision to brave these stench filled sewer passages.

What we discovered next made me question my own sanity. For there floating in the effluent was a putrid and bloated body. On closer inspection it turned out to be none other than the smelly alcoholic dwarf we’d rescued from the stocks earlier. But there’d be no rescue for the Dwarf on this occasion since it was clear that he was stone dead. And worse still the poor wretch had been mutilated quite horribly. One arm was missing and the poor soul had had his heart seemingly ripped out.

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Well that’s enough for me. I’ve seen enough. At the first chance I get I’m gonna quickly and quietly slip away from this gore hunting group and possibly even slip away from Bogenhafen altogether if it means getting rid of them. It’s not they’re not an exciting bunch, because they undoubtedly are. It’s just that I plans to stay alive for a good deal longer than the rest of this thrill seeking bunch plan to do.

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Ep 7 - Beneath Bogenhafen
or Once More Into the Sh*t, Dear Friends!

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Listen to Episode 7 of the podcast here

Beneath Bogenhafen

By Dan

Cast:
Grimmir the Dwarf Runesmith (aka Dan)
Smof the Ogre Maneater (aka Sedrick Lamonte)
Falco the Ratcatcher (aka Michael Morgan)
Wolfgang Krieger (aka Taj the Zealot)

I grimaced as my boots squelched down into the surface of the sewer walkway. Holding my breath mostly, I looked around as the others descended, surveying the three way intersection of large sewer tunnels of Bögenhafen. Muttering quietly, I cursed again, dodging to the side as the massive form of Smof the ogre stepped down into the putrid waters. His churning steps slushing around and causing the odour to become even more oppressive as he found his balance. Holding my shield close for some extra cover I thought over the situation again.

Looking for a damned mutant goblin was unquestionably a stupid reason to descend into a sewer, risking health and limbs from all manner of foul things, just to return a freak that should be put to the axe. But there was the fairly inescapable matter of the substantial reward on offer, not to mention that we seemed to be held to some account for our earlier encounter with the small beast.

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Gathering everyone together I lead the group, acting as the scout and tracker. Athos who would normally take point was decidedly absent, the elfling showing uncommonly good sense to not become involved in this filthy affair. I should’ve preferred to have been sat with my feet up in a friendly taproom myself.

But such matters must wait. Following around through the sewers we travelled for what seemed a good portion of the city, the goblin blood allowing us to follow the trail almost too easily. We stayed to the main sewer lines which was lucky as the smaller tunnels were less safe and had fallen into disrepair and in any case were also too small for our great hulking Ogre companion to follow. Most of us travelled on the side path while the ogre waded through the effluent waters, the noise probably helping scare off all manner of creatures as they heard the larger predator approaching. This fact proved particularly useful at a spot where it was unsafe to continue on one side, since he could simply lift us over to the other.

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Besides the perils of shoddy manling construction we were assualted by a bat swarm before we eventually found the remains of a lost soul, but not the 3 legged creature we were looking for. Instead we found the mangled and mutilated corpse of the disgusting dwarf who we had met just the day before. The smelly one that we’d rescued from the ‘stocks’ having fallen to drunkenness in human lands. Fallen into dishonour and without even having enough self respect to take a Slayer Oath. His name I will not honour with writing here. Grungi protect.

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Pressing on though, the goblin’s trail was not hard to find and the eventual destination was very obvious. A door set into the sewer led to a small chapel dedicated to the blasphemy of Chaos. I stayed back to watch while Gustav and Smof looked into it. The center of the rite held the bloodstains of the goblin, and just behind the door were the discarded remains of the 3 legged escapee, whose latest escape had proved to be his last. But Chaos was indeed lurking. As the daemon spoke some luring words towards my companions we snatched up proof that we had found what we were searching for (in the shape of a 3 socketed pelvis bone) and fled to the nearby rungs of the ladder, upwards into the light.

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Forever afterwards I shall not be so hasty to complain about the foul smells of a human building, for their stench is nought compared to the horrible memories of that foul excursion into the murky depths of Bogenhafen’s sewer system, an experience that assaulted all of my senses and reason itself…

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Ep 8 - Uninvited Guests
or a brush with the law & the lawless

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Listen to Episode 8 of the podcast here

Cast:
Gustav the Dilettante (aka Davy White)
Smof the Ogre Maneater (aka Sedrick Lamonte)
Wolfgang Krieger the Sigmarite Zealot (aka Taj Wood)
Leoven Milner the Apprentice Wizard (aka Chris Beard)

After the strength sapping slog through the sewers on a fools errand last time I remember thinking if I never saw another sewer again it’d be too soon. But less than 24 hours later and here I was again.

We’d barely even had time to rid ourselves of the stench of the previous day before we found ourselves up to our necks (in the Dwarf’s case quite literally) in the shit again.

It was deemed necessary by some of our group (no essential even) for us to retread our steps back to the godforsaken temple. Never mind that we’d been warned by the hideous demon not to return upon on pain of death this time they were going back with the express intention of confronting said beast. I fear I may have taken up with a group of fools or masochists or worse. But Bogenhafen seems an increasingly dangerous place and I feel safer in their presence (though only just) than I feel about wandering the streets solo. I must exercise caution however since it seems there are some gung ho characters among our number that could well get us arrested (again) killed or even worse.

Yes you heard me right, arrested. I’ve only been in this fair city a matter of days and have already been hauled up before the courts on charges of public affray. Both of which I deny vehemently (and besides, they started it). In the end the young magistrate (in the absence of the regular magistrate who seems to have disappeared let us have our liberty for the scandalously inflated price of 2 gold crowns. Of which I have no doubt that a princely portion will end up in the pocked of said magistrate. Such is the way of things in a place such as Bogenhafen. Ah, how the narrow eyes of my innocence have been opened by recent events.

In any case the return mission to the sewers proved fruitless (at least in regards to the temple). Upon our 2nd visit we discovered that it had been cleared and there was no sign of either the pentagram or the profane furnishings that had previously tainted this subterranean chamber. Some of our party (in particular the Ogre) seemed genuinely disappointed that the hastily demonic form was no longer present. The more sane of us drew a sigh of relief at it’s non appearance a 2nd time. If I never see another ghastly abomination again in my life It’ll be too soon. I fear though that our present course of actions is likely to lead us closer and closer to the roots of such chaos spawn than farther away.

With the sewer abandoned prudence might have suggested we leave the subterranean stinkhole but no, we set off in pursuit of some vagrant that Smof had seen lurking. Sure enough this led us (as I predicted) into more trouble. This time our encounter was with the criminal underworld rather than the law.

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We stumbled upon a door within the sewer that was probably best left alone. But once the Ogre had battered down the door we found ourselves inside what appeared to be a cellar storeroom. A wiry fellow was across the room and he welcomed us with a large grin even as he was pulling a lever for a trapdoor which suddenly opened beneath our feet. We were set upon and bound and gagged before we had chance to react and then led back up for a meeting with the grinning fellow.

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He introduced himself as one Franz Baumann the leader of this motley crew of thugs and rogues. It seems that we’d gatecrashed the headquarters of the Thieves Guild. And Baumann left us in no doubt that as uninvited guests our lives would be in great peril if we were to reveal the location of said lair to anyone. The manic long haired one, appeared to test the resolve of the Thieves Guildmaster. An unwise move if you ask me.

But noone does ask me. And surrounded as I am by a fortune teller that dabbles in the magic arts, a dilettante who enjoys swimming in sewage, a zealot who it seems fights more than he prays and an Ogre that wants to fight demons,

I’m beginning to suspect that I may in fact be the only member of this party without a deathwish.

In any case it seems there is a political game being played out, a game in which we are at best pawns until we know who the key players are. Why the cover-up about a goblin the remains of which we clearly found? Why was there a demon in a hidden temple beneath the city and worryingly where did it go? It’s clear there are dark forces at work and that the powerful merchant Steinhager is somehow connected. His warehouse, his monogrammed hanky! But how deep does his involvement run? And what or more importantly who are the Ordo Septenarius?

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Our party think that perhaps Franz Baumann may have some answers. So that’s where we’re headed now. Yes you read that right. Franz Baumann. The Thieves Guildmaster who bound and gagged us last time we met. We’re going back to pay him a visit. I told you…death wish the lot of them.

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Ep 9 - I'd Love to Stay and Chat
...but I really moustache!

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Listen to Episode 9 of the Podcast here

by Aldor Irelgen (aka Ferrin the Mighty)

Cast:
Gustav the Minstrel (aka Davy White)
Aldor Irelgen the Barber Surgeon (aka Ferrin the Mighty)
Falco the Ratcatcher (aka Michael Morgan)

A most peculiar day, one I thought would be most uneventful until a very curious bunch of customers came about my barber shop. I had just finished a shave, when a good friend of mine introduced a couple of chaps he had brought round.

What struck me as most peculiar about these chaps was how dissimilar they were. By their looks, one would never guess they were companions. A rather dishevelled louse who smelled of sewer who was in sore need of dentistry, and a gentlemen whom I provided quite a nice handle bar moustache. It was not long before I discovered they were in some trouble with the magistrate, a dear friend and current patient of mine whom had fallen ill recently. Judging these fellows as more upright than their appearance I deigned to out in a good word with the magistrate and brought them along for his checkup.

Upon arrival, I soon discovered the magistrate too unwell to receive guests. I judged the illness to be of the same ilk as that which took a former patient of mine some time back. An illness that had always troubled me. I had long suspected it to be of unnatural origins, as none of my ministrations seemed to have any effect.

Asking after the recent goings on I found that a one Captain Roener Goertrin, had come by and acted in a most peculiar way. I and my new found companions decided our next course of action in this investigation would be to ask after this captain. Especially since this fellow worked nearby my barber shop but did not see fit to grace me with his custom.

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Along the way, our group was accosted by some illiterate dockworkers spouting some nonsense about mindIng my own business. Which is exactly what I was doing when they stopped us.

So we had a visit with Duty Sgt., after a strange incident involving Falco’s dog, where upon I started some vicious rumours and extracted key information of the captains whereabouts. He had been with the Sgt all that day, he claimed. Then I set upon the captain, confirming my own suspicions that it was not him who had visited the magistrate before the onset of the illness but an imposter. One who could assume the likeness of the captain. The case that this was the work of sorcery was beginning to make itself.

After being escorted from the Captains office, my new companions proposed asking a criminal syndicate if any relevant goings on that could help us crack the magistrates illness. I thought this a wonderful idea, I had long been trying to find a way to offer my services to the underbelly.

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Their contact after a bit of payment, further confirmed my suspicions of sorcery afoot with his descriptions of strangers deaths and mysterious chanting in the vicinity of a dark alter which my companions had discovered while searching for a three legged goblin of all things.

To say the least these new fellows, however odd, have not been boring.

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