"Watch what your doing with that halberd Grigor! Your supposed to cover your partner, not shove your weapon up his arse!" Kristoff barked, his voice echoing through the main courtyard where the new recruits were assembled practicing with their new weaponry. It was a small force they had, but to hold a fortress like this, it was more than enough. He had been drilling these men for hours, hoping to teach them how to form a true wall of halberds, a common tactic in the Empire. An iron wall like that would allow them to hold against numbers much greater than theirs, and take down powerful foes. If they could just stay in formation... "I swear by Ulric if you don't quit tripping over each others feet, I'll feed you to my brother Vorgen here!" As if to make the point Vorgen stalked out of the shadows, bearing his fangs for a moment towards the sloppy mess of a unit. They scrambled to form up correctly, only for Grigor to smack Jareth in the head with the flat of the halberd, causing a domino effect that sent them all tumbling down. While annoyed, Kristoff couldn't help but laugh at the spectacle. "I think I'll leave this lot you for now Kolja, I watch this any longer I'll be tempted to use my hammer to whip them into shape." With that he walked away from the main courtyard and through the winding corridors of High Rock. The place was truly in disrepair, walls and corridors crumbling and open to the elements. Not that he minded, he rather enjoyed the freezing winds that would occasionally howl through the hallways. Eventually he made it to a small wooded area in on the outskirts of the Fortress that was open to the sky. It was here that a small shrine to Ulric was made, a wood carving of a giant wolf atop a great rock, presumably the one at Middenheim, and where he would occasionally lead the recruits in prayers. It was also where his tent was set, as he didn't care much for the claustrophobic conditions of the inner rooms. He knelt before the shrine, laying down his warhammer before it as he began his prayers in the tongue of the old Teutons.
After signing the piece of parchment that was his contract to Constantine, his signature a series of Lustrian markings than a name, Xiuhcoatl took over one of the many sleeping quarters closer to the core of the aged fortress as he had no real preference at this point since it was all just cold rooms in grey stone blocks as far as he cared. It took some effort to give some renovations to his chosen sleeping spot, shoving two of the beds together to accommodate the large Saurian and heavy blankets to keep out the constant draft of the castle. But it was still missing much to suit the Lustrian, too dull and lifeless which reminded it too much of the former masters of this place. He left with a grumble, an idea popping into his reptilian mind as he went to the underside of the castle to find the halfling known as Sir Breckenridge for the gold he was told he was owed before he would go to the Kroxigor of a human called Kolja who he heard could find things for the Mercenaries.
Khelandria took herself to the care of the healers and a hot bath. Not the kind of post-battle care she was used to, or the kind of bath, but it was still good to have both. She stretched, and enjoyed the simple pleasure of being alive for a while before gathering herself and leaving to find chambers of her own. In a high castle like this, there would be the Lord's chambers, already claimed by Constantine as was his right as leader. Khelandria had her eye on another staple of the Vampire Castle: quarters for a Vampire Bride. Whether or not such a place or such an individual ever existed, the Witch Elf stalked the grey corridors until she found a tall spire. The chamber she chose was spacious, with an ante-room to keep out some of the draught and a large solid bed with tapestried curtains. It was dusty, and cobwebs decorated the hanging fabric, but Khelandria was from Naggaroth. She lit a fire in the grate, opened the windows and set about hauling down the curtains and hanging them out on the small balcony outside the large window. She didn't exactly approve of the defensive issues with such a parapet, but she did appreciate the aesthetic. She beat the dust away from the curtains with the blunt end of a borrowed spear, and duffed up the pillows. She flogged the feather mattress to within an inch of its life and then washed down all the hard surfaces. She even swept the floor. When everything was clean, or at least de-dusted and had any lurking beasties removed, she went to wash the dirt off herself and find someone would could tell her where to buy a few things. Looking somewhat like a banshee herself, grey with dust, Khelandria sneezed thoughtfully. She was far from home, but she was happy. There was room in her chamber for a Shrine to Khaine and she enjoyed being back in a lowering, forbidding tower. You can take the girl out of Naggaroth, but you can't take Naggaroth out of the girl. The Halfling banker seemed like the one to ask about this, or one of his compatriots. Maybe Kolya. Yes, and she must see Master Ori to get the shutters and the doors looked over. Spoiler: Shopping List Things Khelandria is looking to spend her pay (both lots if necessary) on: Some nice clean sheets, pillowcases and blankets for the bed A quilt A rug to go in front of the fireplace Some new boots A large mirror (this is probably the most expensive and I appreciate that she might not find this - Vampires are not known for their love of mirrors ... ) A cushion A large piece of sturdy black fabric Red, white and yellow thread and / or paint Chalk Things that she can grind up to make incense She would also like someone to repair the shutters to her room and check that the doors are solid. If funds stretch to it she would like to get glass for the windows (Luxury!).
Pierre trudged through the passes of the Middle Mountains. It had only been a few days since he had heard of the mercenary company that had freed the surrounding lands of vampiric influence. It was this company of men and women that Pierre wished to see, and to join. With a Bestigor head clenched firmly in his gauntleted hand and his heater shield strapped firmly to his other he continued on his path. Reaching the long bridge that seemed to connect the fortress with the outside world Pierre would grin beneath his ornate helm. Stepping across the bridge with a prideful spring in his step Pierre would stop before the gates of the fortress. Finally he thought his hardships of the past few weeks had come to an end. Having lost his trusted mount in a skirmish with a goblin raiding party being the worst of them all. Having to stomp through the mud like a peasant did not suit Pierre, but he was a harder man than most nobles of Bretonnia and he would do whatever was necessary for the Lady. "I am Pierre Le Brisson, I come here to fight along you and slay the foul beasts that live in mockery of the Lady of the Lake!" he shouted loudly to whoever was listening within the walls. Tossing the Bestigor head to the ground, rolling for a few feet before smacking against the gate of the fortress. With his now free hand Pierre would remove his helm, revealing a ruggedly handsome face with sky blue eyes looking up at the ramparts. He was dirty, of that there was no doubt, having dirt covering his face along with stains of sweat and greasy hair. But somehow the man still gave off an aura of chivalry and nobility, something that all experienced knights of Bretonnia were capable of, at least in public. @Colapse
Harold stared up at the ceiling in the wake of their victory. Bare chest heaved and the thick bush of wiry hairs on his torso smoked from passing embers. Eyes wide the bad lander was content to stare up at the ceiling for a while, taking his sweet time as he came to terms with everything that had transpired. Several minutes would pass and the only thing that would shift about his person was his mouth, a grin having grown from the smallest of crooked tooth smirks to a big ol boyish smile, as if he had just lived out a childhood fantasy. Only when Constantine was hovering over him with a contract that needed signing did Harold rise. Penning his signature on the nearby table that had served as reassuring cover. "Oh hell yes, I'm down for this, I'm down for all of it. We showed that vampire one for like heroes of old! It doesn't matter if I die in me sleep tonight, I get to waltz into Morr's gardens saying I killed a vampire, a vampire knight! " Unable to contain a chuckle the man waltzed off half naked, tossing scarf back around himself despite its blackened ends and going to secure his own little section of the castle. OOC: Small post, Total Warhammer calls.
Fulke spent the days recuperating, his broken jaw a piece of work for the Priestess of Shallya. At least, it was an aggravating amount of pain that took far longer than he would have liked to recover from. When not walking the halls of High Rock with slurred prayers to Morr just barely making it past his lips, he would watch the new recruits in the courtyard. It was not his place to assist Kolja in the training of the new blood, but an experienced soldier sometimes couldn't help but to see how the young ones might have fared. After a few days, the aches at last began to fade and the Ostlander walked the castle at a greater pace, memorizing the layout by repetition. In many ways it reminded him of his service to the Elector Count. Such esteemed soldiers such as the Greatsword Regiments were held in reserve, used to patrol the keeps and prized possessions of such power political figures. It had ultimately been those quiet nights walking castles for the thousandth time that had pushed Fulke into the circles of Vampire Hunters. Yet here he was now, simply walking to save his peace of mind instead of losing it. A few times he had caught word of the whereabouts of a Priest of Morr, and wisely made himself scarce. He doubted that word of his trespass and confrontations with the Priesthood had traveled to every single servant of the God of the Dead, but best to avoid any awkward situations.
In the coming days it would have been very easy to find Mariah. Her lack of effectiveness in the last battle had scarred her and make her question her faith and dedication. Mariah, at times, could be found day and night kneeling with sword planted at the alter of the Lady of the Lake's Shrine. Her head bowed and her breath slow as he prayers continued endlessly. When she was not in the shrine, she could be found training with the men. Constantly perfecting the art of sword and shield tactics one on one.
After helping to clean up the taint that remained within the walls of High Rock to order to help render the place habitable, along with getting the wound from the bar-room brawl tended to, Aloiza decided that she needed her own place to stay found a room likely once owned by one of the higher-ups within the order to be befitting her atop on of the towers.... If it wasn't so threadbard that there was only a bed-frame with an equally minimalistic matress, a wardrobe that looked like a well-placed kick could splinter it asunder. Looking on the bright side however, at least there were shutters to the worst of the cold out, space to set up a shrine to Hekarti and Atharti, along with room to build herself a proper study for while she may be good with spells, there was always going to be a need for more knowledge and spells to bring to bear. So the Druchii would then have to buy what was necessary both to furnish a study with books, and build a shrine to the Sisters who both need their time of veneration. If that wasn't enough, the fact she might be embodying a cliché by taking a place in one of the towers for herself was not lost upon the Sorceress, but it was perfect for her to not suffer from annoying interruptions from conversations taking place right outside her door. And if there was one thing that made the though of having to splurge her pay on room improvements a touch easier to stomach, it was that at least she wasn't going to bother giving whatever deity the Ogre worshipped tribute which would be wasteful, expensive and pointless in her view. At least Aloiza knew what she was going to be busy with for the moment: Getting her room sorted out so that it was liveable to her, not an barely hospitable place that she would endeavour to avoid staying in at all costs, unless necessary such as when she slept during the night, or was worshipping Atharti which naturally entailed needing a certain level of privacy to fully enjoy the act of veneration and not give the rumour mill enough paper to keep it going for a month or two.
<Tugg, Khelandria, Xiuhcoatl + Pierre> @Grall_Stonefist @Jorimel @BuriasDempsey @DeezNuts It turned out that the Witch Elf, the Butcher and the Saurian Temple Guard all arrived at the bank at the same time, together meeting with the Halfling banker. As always, Sir Breckenridge was in a foul mood and he simply shoved the pouches of coin into their hands. "No, I don't have time to hear your wishes or complaints! There's sooo much work to do here and we still haven't got paid for that damned sword we came here for in the first place! So if you need something, go and bother Kolja." Seeing that they would get no help from the moody Halfling, the crew went out in the courtyard to find the Kislevite quartermaster. They located him outside, sitting in front of the guardhouse next to the wide gates, the table in front of him filled with papers of all kinds. Kolja himself looked troubled as he waded through it all while an almost empty bottle of vodka could also be found on the table, although if the man was drunk he showed no signs of it. "Hm, Miss Khelandria, you got couple of items there on ya list that would be hard to find," Kolja said as he read the Witch Elf's "shopping" list, "Hard, but not impossible. Eh, I'll see what I can do about it. Also, gonna need your entire pay for all of that, hoping that's not an issue?" he added and looked over to Tugg and Xiuhcoatl, "I plan on setting off to Wolfenburg in an hour to buy some supplies, so do you got a list of items you need like the lass over there? Or just spit it out, Kolja will remember it, no problem!" he laughed and took another sip from the bottle which didn't really help with his "credibility". @DeezNuts Around that same time they heard someone shouting outside the gates and couple of guardsmen who were on duty nearby rushed over to Kolja, who simply waved them over to let the newcomer in. Entering the courtyard, Pierre would see the Kislevite sitting behind the table with an Ogre, a Dark Elf and a Lizardman all standing nearby. "Ah, no need to yell lad, some of us are maybe...but we ain't deaf!" once again he started laughing at his own joke (whatever that was) and pointed with his finger at Khelandria (@Jorimel ). "Miss, since we got ya stuff all settled and I still need to work it out with your other two friends, it would save me a lot of time and put me in ya debt if you could lead this knightly fellow up to Constantine's chambers for the big guy to say his part?" Waiting for Witch Elf's reply, the burly man turned back over to Pierre, pointing at the severed Bestigor's head behind him. "I trust ya'r trip to High Rock was fun, eh?" OOC I'll be adding another post concerning the rest of the guys, just gimme a sec!
<Tuska> @TuskatheDaemonKilla The Black Orc was left to spend the free time on his own without anyone interfering, for the Halfing crew that went around the fortress fixing things knew better than to enter the Greenskin's lair uninvited. Speaking about fixing things, Tuska had somewhat of a success with repairing his musical instrument, the squig bag of pipes quite thoroughly trashed but despite being unable to return it to its former "pristine" state he could still repair it to some degree. It was able to produce music, although now it had somewhat of a screeching sound "hidden" in the background that might unnerve some people who had "different" taste in music. <Fulke> @Skarboy Patrolling through the cold corridors of the castle was perhaps a lonely task for some, but it allowed Fulke to heal the wounds he received during the fighting with the Grandmaster rather nicely. His jaw wasn't hurting him anymore and with the help of some prayers the Mother Claire used, the effects of the hex the Vampire Lord put on him were almost completely gone and he felt invigorated like never before. Given his experience in such things and spending a lot of time walking through the castle, Fulke would see that this place was rather well-built, the stone was dark and strong, the rock of the mountain in which this fortress was carved in mighty and unbreakable. Such was the nature of the castle and its strategic layout that even with the people they had now, they could defend it against a much larger army without much effort. And if they could repair the catapults and get those cannons working, then any kind of an attacker would think twice before launching an assault. Lost in his thoughts, Fulke stumbled upon a finely-crafted wooden doors that led into a chamber he hadn't spotted before. Rows of rusty swords and shields with old heraldry of Ostland lied on couple of racks, covered in thick layer of dust, while maple bows and crossbows made of dark oak filled the other part of the room. There was a crate further back into the room with a flag covering whatever it contained. He could see a red bull in the center of the flag, with black and white swords crossed beneath it and crimson words "Usque ad mortem" etched in the fabrics. This was definitely some sort of an armory used by the Ostlander troops before the Knightly Order came and whatever lied beneath the flag, as well as the flag itself, was something quite important and it was up to Fulke to find it out, if he so desired. <Aloiza> @Maleth Like Tuska, Aloiza was left alone to set up the room on her own as she saw fit, none of the Halflings disturbing her at the moment for she was perhaps even more scary than the Black Orc. There were quite enough of items in the tower already, both furniture and other accessories, to make her job easier and arrange them in whatever way she wanted. Also she noticed that the dagger she picked up from the Innkeeper which she afterwards used to help her defeat the Vampire Lord now shined with inner power, as if some of the Grandmaster's own strength was passed into it. It would definitely be a powerful addition to her arsenal, not to mention that unlocking such secret gave her an opportunity to better study the leeching aspect of the dark magic which she would definitely find useful in the upcoming weeks. Sadly, she was eventually disturbed from her work when she heard knocking on the door and sensed the familiar presence of a Halfling servant waiting outside. <Kristoff> @Keidivh Sitting in front of the shrine, Kristoff was finally at peace. Alone and deep in communion with his patron, the Priest felt cold wind blowing from the mountains touching his skin and making him stronger for it. There was a smell of snow on it and Kristoff could only smile as he also felt the touch of Ulric there, the God of War, Winter and Wolves talking back to him through a hundred small details. Cry of the wild wolf somewhere in the far distance, the cold, the snow and the feeling of isolation and the knowledge of the strength that came from the interaction with the harsh earth and living off of it that shaped Kristoff into the man he was now coursed through his veins. He felt the touch on his weapon grew colder and as he opened his eyes, he saw couple of bright blue runes etched upon the surface of the warhammer, their meaning "Blizzard", "Faith" and "Death". <Mariah, Harold> @matt23 @DeranVendar Eventually, both Mariah and Harold would be disturbed by a message coming from Master Ori, Mariah interrupted during one of her spars with the new recruits while Harold taken from wherever he was chilling at the moment. Dwarf's message was clear: "Meet me at the smithy. I have something to show you," Ori direct as the rest of his kind. When they arrived they would find the Dwarf blacksmith pounding on a piece of a metal, working to create something that seemed like somewhat larger suit of chainmail with parts of plate interlocking with it on couple of places. "Come," he waved them over, "Trust you settled up right and proper eh? This place ain't so bad as I originally though," quite a praise, coming from a Dwarf.
