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Argot's Warriors of the World [Warhammer Fantasy RP]

Discussion in 'Role Playing' started by DeranVendar, Nov 1, 2017.

  1. Colapse Colapse Forum Beta Tester

    "Hmf, so you are a scout then, for your village? Old fool like you? Then again, manlings aren't known for their smart decisions," Dagrim grunted, easying a bit with his grip but keeping the glare steady.

    "We don't have a leader, but if there are Norscans to kill, show us. My axe thirsts for proper challenge!"
  2. DeranVendar DeranVendar Subordinate

    "Hey now, I can be right quick when I need to be!" Old man looks at the Dawi angrily, then withers under the returned gaze. Looking down to the ground he taps his fingers together, expression flustered and a bit anxious. "Well...." He looks back up, face lighting up as some thought hits him. "I also had a horse, but it got chased off by hounds and I never bothered to retrieve it. Was too afraid you see...anyways! Come with me, the hamlet is not too far away."

    It Wasn't Like This When I Left
    Corpses burning, smoke rising, and wrecked ship gutted of its crew the company marched off under the lead of the elder stranger. Anyone with a mind for directions and familiarity with the land would realize they were probably enroute to Beelen. Those whom lacked such qualities figured it out when they ended up passing a tilted sign-post stabbed into the mud directing travelers slight off the mark of Norden, Beelen, and Salzmorast. If only there had been a sign regarding Beelen's condition.

    "No!" As of yet unnamed guide drops to his hands and knees at the top of a grassy hill top. One would not be remiss to think they had doubled back and arrived at the beach considering the presence of black smoke and the stench of rot riding the winds. Group crests the rise and find themselves looking upon Beelen: a tidy group of thirty buildings and several outlying farms all sprouting from the end of a small cobblestone bridge crossing a once pleasant stream. Several roof tops burn, most of them single story homes with the odd double level cottage and a large stable that has become little more than an infernal patch of orange and crimson on the outskirts of town. Surrounding farms and their fields are untouched, latter still soaked from the storms, former busted up with destroyed doors, busted windows and bodies scattered out front; these are the only corpses that do not appear to be moving.

    Down the town's main street and nestled in numerous alleys, pouring from buildings, and slowly shambling out into the open terrain are countless corpses of both citizens and the local militia. No immediate signs of congregating bodies, and thus life trapped within, crop up from their current position, this means little considering how much of the town is hidden behind its outermost structures.

    "Those cold hearted bastards, they've brought their degeneracy to Beelen! They've turned lot have got to get down there! Kill everyone and everything responsible!" Of course the man wasn't the one in charge here, nor did it seem he'd be able to go down into the thick of it with them. From a tactical stand point rushing in would be suicide, as their foes numerical superiority was apparent enough from afar that they would be bogged down and slain no matter how many they ended up slaying. The urban environs, even if Beelen was not a fully sized city or even major township, would also drastically hamper their line of sight and allow even the mindless dead to launch an ambush with some luck. Points of interest that may aid in an assault, or provide some intrigue, included a bell tower situated near the town hall, a broad brick built building surrounded by an abandoned row of stakes and cobbled together barricades, and a stone chapel that sat to the far North-West corner of Beelen.
  3. Lars looked over the destruction with little care, this was the craft of his people, hardened warriors destroying those thinking themselves safe and civil, culling the weak and taking to feed the strong.
    Though before he was cought up in too much reverie of philosophy, he had to be practical, right now it was his job to save as much of this town as possible, and send the Varg running home in strongly deminished numbers, if at all.
    "I suggest we take a more cautionary attack this time, there seem to be alot of very alive Varg left, and all we have is the element of surprise, once we find them that is"
    Casavay and Colapse like this.
  4. Colapse Colapse Forum Beta Tester

    Dagrim smelled the uzkular stench even before the sole survivor of the massacre in Beelen started panicking. "Lower your voice manling or you won't have to worry about the undead," the Slayer told the old man, his eyes glinting dangerously. He spared another glance at their guide before peering behind the bridge's edge towards the town and its surrounding area. Grunting once again, but with a noticeable finality in it, the Dwarf leaned back and listened to what Lars had to say before adding his own thoughts.

    "Can't see anything alive down there, but who knows. Maybe somebody survived. That building over there, with the stakes. It looks like the villagers tried to man up a defense but obviously failed. Perhaps somebody lives there still that can give us more information. Also, I noticed how the outlying farms while ransacked, are left untouched by the corruption. I'm no Elgi wizard but that means whatever object is giving these corpses a second chance at life is probably located inside the town. Or whoever was using it."

    Slayer pulled the axe from his back and for a second peered into the metal, even after all this time the edge was still sharp as it was the day it was released from the forge. "Dwarfs make things to last," he muttered, the reflection behind him showing the pillaged settlement. It was no secret what opinion the dawi had on everything not-dawi, despite being somewhat Dwarf of the world, Dagrim still held the same resentment for the construction and engineering skill of the men of the Empire. The signs were all too obvious and not even a stupid grobi could be blind to such facts.

    "While there's only one manling God I respect, even in this Empire of yours the temple ground is still a temple ground, sanctified and all and while I have seen temples to Morr in Wurtbad overrun by the thaggoraki, they still had to break the warding first and kill the templars to get inside. So if there's someone alive in this Grungni-forsaken place, he will be there," Slayer finished and pointed a meaty finger at the distant chapel.

    With that said, Dagrim set off towards the chapel, not really looking if anyone was following him. He wouldn't mind a company but he won't ask for it either. Slayer's life was a solitary one and Dagrim was used to traveling into dangerous places alone, so why should this time be different. However he didn't charge headlong into danger now, after the fighting at the beach he was certain a greater doom awaited him at the hands of whoever created this undead army, so in his mind a death from getting thorn to pieces by a mob of dimwitted zombies wasn't to his liking anymore, not when there were bigger things to slay. Therefore he skulked around the edges of the town as much as his frame allowed him to, trying to go around and reach the chapel that way, instead of going straight through the town.

    There was also another reason that made him trust the temple, something that corresponded to what he was thinking earlier. It was made of stone.
  5. Saraph Midas Casavay Well-Known Member

    Selarthi inclined her head as she listened and observed. "How will you pay us?", she duly asked after the Dwarf finished his piece and had started moving. "The only mercies I provide are swift death and the knowledge you were bested by your betters, and I do not think you qualify for either. Luckily for you, I sell my sword. Unfortunately, you do not seem like a man of gold and jewels."

    The Druchi crossed her arms. Of course slaying the undead was a service to the Gods, but even the most pious of priests took payment in return for services rendered.
  6. DeranVendar DeranVendar Subordinate

    "And unfortunately you don't seem like much a sell sword considerin' you were almost killed by three meatless pups." His gaze sways to the rest still standing around. "There is likely to be plenty of freed up and abandoned supplies and goods around town, have at 'em. Whatever isn't ruined by rot ought to be of some use to mercenaries or a witch hunter and her bruisers right?"
  7. Disgust would radiate from the knight at the comment of payment in regards to this atrocity, as he'd turn gaze from terrorized township to those he'd be grouped with. That any could look upon this scene of grisly walking dead and not know that their destruction was anything but necessary was anathema to Rolayn, his own burning hate for the undead more then eager to see him into combat. In regards to the words of the dark elf, how she spoke so casually of mercifully swift deaths, he'd reply.

    "I shall remember that the next time I see you being torn apart, elf. Certainly, a simpler strategy to be sure."

    Eyes going towards the older man, the knight would incline his head, as he spoke.

    "The dead cannot be allowed to fester here and grow in numbers. I will do what I can to aid in there purging."

    He cared little for loot or other treasures in payment, for a Questing Knight only cared for one reward for his toils. That being said, he would take note to see if there would be any food if he survived, as the peasantry could no doubt spare some for a man on such a noble pursuit. However, as he was getting ahead of himself, he'd turn his thoughts back to combat, and how to face the creatures. Certainly with DeLoria, his steed panting and kicking the ground in aggressive anticipation, he could attempt to simply strike and carry on, performing a series of rapid assaults before utilizing his superior speed to outrange the shambling corpses. Yet, in the alleys and streets, with the undead pouring from all crevices, he could not be sure that his passage would not be interrupted. The thought of being surrounded, pulled down, and torn apart came to mind, and thus this strategy would be abandoned.

    Looking off towards the dwarf, so eagerly striding into the fray, he'd consider his words on the church that no doubt may lay within the city limits. It was not a bad thought, for the light of divinity often would aid in the destruction of these abominations, yet, the Bretonnian could not honestly in good faith seek sanctuary from any other power but The Lady. His eyes would halt upon the bell tower, it's commanding view of the area lending itself well to a potential place to drop a marksman. Pointing at it with the tip of his Corseque, Rolayn would comment.

    "If any wish to take up positions there, I can ride them in, swift and true, perhaps avoiding a confrontation with the dead."

  8. Maleth Maleth Subordinate

    Looking at the scene, despite the Undead coming out to greet the entire group gave Selaris something to pause about. Clearly fighting wasn't an option, so she said to everyone else present (given lack of Dawi, presumably trying to get himself killed) "Issues of payment aside, I do suppose we should go and find somewhere to hold out from the hordes, given the futility of open battle, and given how the Dwarf's picked the chapel... I'll see everyone over there, and coming along means having healing, something I think we all need to make sure we don't die."

    With that said, the mage of Hysh went off to the Chapel, hoping that she wasn't molested by any undead while she was on her way, and that everyone else agreed with her assessment of magical healing being a pretty important factor for survival.
  9. Valonox Valonox Preacher

    She stayed silent during the mans attempt to speak with her she stayed quiet and fell behind to guard the groups rear.

    ~Now~ Once Dawne saw the man crumble she rushed to the top of the hill and in a quiet voice. "By the Comet.." Looking at the old man. She rose her voice and spoke normally. "Sir we will avenge the people of this town to you I swear this. Food Supplies shall suffice." Dawne looked down into the burning town with a face of anger and malice she quickly pulled up her long coat checked her pistols then pulled her rapier & a pistol charging into the town without any further questions following the Dawi in stride to the Chapel!
  10. DeranVendar DeranVendar Subordinate

    Charnel Chapel
    Dwarf, elf, and human spearhead the investigation. Destination sat opposite of their current location on the hill, trio passing from East to West. Outskirts of town provide the most open space to maneuver, and as of yet the fewest walking corpses. Half naked Slayer maintains a solid lead over Dawne and Selaris in spite of his shorter limbs, cleaving closest to the township of Beelen, mage hot on Dagrim's heels with the heals if need be. Dawne opts for the longer route, hunter vanishing into tall stalks of grain and beginning to cautiously work her way towards the Chapel.

    Trouble rears its misshapen head early into the trek, Dagrim breaking between the cover of two buildings at just the wrong time, and barreling straight into a wandering zombie. Corpse stumbles out a backdoor and trips right over the dawi and onto its face. Selaris staggers in her own advance, a domino chain of misfortune that draws uglier heads from down the road. One rasping moan becomes two, then three, four, five, and then four again as Dagrim chops off the head of the rotter that had tripped over him. Three more take its place and crashing furniture joins as a table or chair is knocked aside within the building. A mixture of shuffling citizens and shambling militia begin to bear down upon them.

    Dawne, partially blind in a sea of grain, reaches far edge of the fields and pokes her head out. Rest of her body follows, woman sprinting across an open road devoid of any visible shufflers. Coming up on the chapel she takes note of several decapitated corpses, seemingly untouched by the advanced decay that has claimed the other more motile bodies. Stepping around into the shade of Chapel's western wall Dawne catches her breath. Whispers drift out from a busted window, a red curtain plugging up the wounds and propped up by jagged sections of glass. The crackle of flame, rising call to arms by the Undead, and her own beating heart make it difficult to make out who is talking, and what about though.

    Unfortunate Sneaks:
    Dagrim: 9 Selaris:8

    Beelen's Citizenry:
    Zombies: 4/4/4(Sw + Sh)/4(Sp)/4/4(Sw)/4/4(Sp)

    Back in the Saddle
    "Knight, permit me to ride with ye into town. I live out on one of the main streets, ought to be broad enough we won't get bogged down. Get me to my home, so I can check on my family and grab my things. I'll grab my blade and join ye lot in purging these poor souls." Old man hobbles up to DeLoria's side with purpose, greyed head looking up towards the Bretton with an expression caught between mad rage and great sorrow.

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