Brash Young Fools

Grok's Journal: The Tale of Two Ivans

Trust no one.

Immediately after Lou’s death, we set out to find the Witch Hunter who’d killed him. We gathered a posse around us and went after him. Down in a square we found him burning a mutant, one of the few to escape our purge of the first night. Confronting him, he justified his actions in the name of generating fear – so that the populace might fear him more than the monsters, and hand them over. After Heinrich awkwardly handed back Rankoff’s pistols and told him of the warpstone in the Temple of Verena, we intimidated the Witch Hunter into inaction for the night.

In the night, when we were getting our first clean sleep (and I was weakening further from my rot), there was noise and screaming in the streets; the dead were walking. We rushed out and hacked them down with ease, but were perturbed; was this a symptom of the Chaos, or something worse? With the number of dead in this city, we prayed that a necromancer could not be on the loose.

… 72 of Ratcatcher Sid’s best live rats for Dolph’s owl - donation.

The following morning we went through the goods that had arrive; an eye-patch for Karl, a iron cage for prisoners, badges and cudgels for our deputies… and more turnips.

Then we set to hunting down the Amethysts; we’d heard reports that the Witch Hunter was tracking them down, so we found our way, eventually to the house where they had holed up. It was surrounded by a mob, complete with desperate idiots and improvised weaponry; no-one had been foolish enough to attack the house yet, but the Witch Hunter was threatening to burn it. With the help of Ivan, we calmed the crowd and entered.

The wizards were a strange trio. A great ebullient Bretonnian ‘Lucian’, a young maid with an icy soul ‘Melinda’, and a giant ‘Davos’ who conjured a great glowing scythe at the first sign of conflict; we became confident that they were who they said they were but we weren’t sure that they weren’t necromancers; they had the traditional Amethyst love of playing with the dead. We warned them to stay where they were, and to not rile the mob with experiments. They told us things about the winds of magic, to see if we could track the corruption causing the dead to rise.

… a bolt of Dwarven greasecloth for Ysassa Redbeard – 1S20

Outside, we split the Witch Hunter from his posse and dispatched him with the Brothers Rich, to hunt down monstrosities, but with clear instructions not to burn them except at our say-so.

We returned to the safehouse, and planned our resource-management; I felt like we playing one of those Orcish games where you have to throttle four snotlings at once, eat a Squig, and pick your nose. Keeping all the snotlings throttled was going to be trouble; the Morrites were out roaming the streets, the Amethysts were holed up in their house, the Merchant and his men had transferred themselves to another nearby manor. Now we just needed to find the necromancers and…

Karl went to the roof, and looked out with his warped eye; it bled a little and twisted noisomely in the socket as he stared. Yet, he could see nothing in the winds, except death and madness. Noise from below distracted us.

… spyglass for the Boatman’s guild – 34S 50B

A myrmidian said there was a new arrival at the gate; we hurried over. An old, slow-speaking priest waited there, who introduced himself as Ivan of Morr.

We started swearing. Again.



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