Skellan's Enemy Within

Wanted poster seen in the City Of Middeneheim


The Ritual
19th - 20th Jahrdrung


Daith Sharpeye and Mortelis Bloodbough dragged Adele Ketzenblum’s body into the room and closed the door.

They set about searching her room for clues to her odd behaviour. No letters, notes, or other documents are to be found anywhere. However, Daith Sharpeye looked at the equipment chest and discovered that it had a false bottom. In a secret compartment the elves find a set of robes in purple and green silk and three books. The robes are the ritual garb of a cult priest of Slaanesh. The books consist of two texts, De Magister Voluptatis and Liber Ecstatica, which deal with the worship of Slaanesh, and a handwritten journal detailing the deeds of the Jade Sceptre Cult.

Realising the significance of the find, Daith Sharpeye snuck out of the window to get the rest of the group and alert Witchunter Gregor Helstrum while Mortelis Bloodbough stayed behind to guard Adele Ketzenblum’s corpse.

Daith Sharpeye picked his way through the shadows of Middenheim streets, making haste towards The Scholar’s to fetch the others when he felt a hard stinging blow to his lower back. Spinning on his heels, he saw 3 cloaked figures, with clawed hands, closing in on him. His back felt wet with warm blood as he raised his bow at the nearest assailant.


Aided by cover from a wall, the Skaven stepped back and Daith’s shot stuck into the wooden beams of the building. Daith cursed the Horned Rat as a throwing star whistled at his face, opening up a deep gash across his forehead. Daith’s vision swam red as he fought off unconsciousness. He had to get out of there and quick! Fighting through the pain, he steamed down the street towards the safety of The Scholar’s. Like a gazelle he swerved through boxes and crates and ducked under a washing line but he Skaven were still close behind. Up ahead, a horse broke free from its owner and reared up, hooves flailing in front of Daith. The elf saw his chance to escape his pursuers and he dropped to the floor, rolling under the kicking horse before rising on the other side to sprint free.

Breathless, Daith reached the safety of the Inn and summoned help from Barlin “Grimbane” Duraksson, the Grey Cowl Lambeth, and Robert Schalmer.

In a group they headed back from where Daith had just came to find Gregor Helstrum.


The Skaven, smelling blood, were emboldened and attacked the larger group. This time, the party was ready for them. Daith struck a shot at a nearby Skaven, pinning him to the wall. Lambeth moved to a flanking position as Barlin “Grimbane” Duraksson leveled his modified Hochland Rifle at the furthest Skaven. The smell of black powder filled the air as the rifle thundered to life, its deadly shot striking the Skaven, who reeled back under the force of the impact. Robert Schalmer dealt the third Skaven a mortal blow, sending the ratman scurrying for cover. In no mood to take prisoners, Daith Sharpeye responded quickly, firing a arrow that struck the Skaven squarely in the back, killing him instantly.

The party regrouped and fetched Helstrum, taking him back to the The Brown Owl inn. Upon seeing Adele Ketzenblum’s body ravaged by violence and the ruinous powers, Helstrum wept openly. He accepted the undeniable evidence before him and mourned the loss of his protege.

Gregor Helstrum vowed to bring the full force of the Inquisition to bear, and said that he would ensure that justice is served in the trial of Graf Wolfgang von Aschenbeck. Helstrum, not one to believe in coincidence, offered to help the PC’s complete the ritual on the Corrupted Bell Clapper.

Locking Adele’s body in the room, the group headed to the Temple of Ulrich and sent for Robertus von Oppenheim to begin the ritual.


The Ritual

The Sacred Flame casts an eerie, shifting light over the darkened interior of the temple. Priest Frost stands by the Flame, talking to a junior priest while three in initiates draw strange symbols on the floor with chalk. Everyone looks up as party makes their way towards the Flame, holding the box with the strange object inside.

Robertus von Oppenheim asked each member of the party for assistance in the ritual. He asked Daith Sharpeye to hold aloft the stone chalice filled with wine. Barlin “Grimbane” Duraksson was given wolf skins to dress in and was asked to guard the temple doors and howl like a wolf throughout the ritual. Robert Schalmer was given the honour of sanctifying the perimiter by carrying a torch taken from the holy flame on a course of the temple. Lambeth had to keep the sacred flame from going out while Mortelis Bloodbough was to take the clapper from the lead-lined box and hand it to Robertus von Oppenheim at the appropriate time.

Three initiates stand to one side of the Sacred Flame and begin a chant in the ancient Teutogen language. After a few minutes of chanting, von Oppenheim steps inside the
circle of chalk symbols and approaches the Flame, also chanting. His voice is too low to hear over the chant of the junior priests, but anyone present could see that his lips are moving.

Barlin “Grimbane” Duraksson stepped outside and folded his arms. ‘I am not howling for anyone’ he grumbled.

Lambeth moved nervously around the sacred flame, trying to protect it as Daith did a good job holding the chalice aloft, but his arms started to ache. Mortelis Bloodbough was struggling to get the box holding the corrupted bell clapped open.
Robert Schalmer made his way around the temple with the flame, easily kicking down a locked door that blocked his path.

Meanwhile, Robertus von Oppenheim raises his arms and approaches the Sacred Flame, tracing mystical patterns in the air as he slowly walks once around it. As he reaches each cardinal point, he pauses long enough to take out a handful of sand-coloured powder from a jar tied to his belt and throw it into the flame. As he completes his circuit, the Flame flares brightly once, and then subsides to its former level – but instead of bright orange, it is now a purplish blue in colour.

Mortelis Bloodbough begins to strike the box but barely dents it. Just then, Daith’s arms give way and he lowers the chalice.

Barlin “Grimbane” Duraksson grumbles, ‘This is going well..’

Returning from his patrol, Robert Schalmer takes the box from Mortelis and effortlessly opens it as Oppenheim holds out his hand for the clapper. Mortelis Bloodbough takes the chalice from Daith and excellently follows Oppenheim’s instructions to give each of the initiates a taste.

When Robertus von Oppenheim has the clapper, he holds it in both hands and reaches into the Sacred Flame.

At first, the Flame seems to draw back from the Chaos-tainted object. Von Oppenheim steps back, still chanting, and advances to try again. The flames lap around his arms and hands, but despite a wince of pain that crosses his face his skin and clothing is not burned.
The clapper remains in the Sacred Flame for what seems like an eternity. Slowly it begins to glow with the same purple-blue light. After a few minutes, it starts to emit a high-pitched ringing sound, like the echoes of a bell that has been struck but at the very limits of human hearing. The sound grows in volume and intensity until it fills the Temple, echoing off the walls and ceiling.

As the sound grows, von Oppenheim’s body begins to shake. His face contorts in pain, his jaw clenches, and his lips draw back from his teeth. His eyes widen with fear and he seems to be trying to move away from the Flame – but some power is holding him in place. He is lifted slowly off his feet and drawn into the midst of the Sacred Flame, turning slowly as the whine of power and the glow of the clapper both increase to an almost unbearable level.

Suddenly, there is a blinding flash of light. It takes a few moments for the heroes’ vision to return, but when it does they see the crumpled form of von Oppenheim lying just outside the Sacred Flame, his hair and clothing on fire. Near him lies the clapper, its warpstone-tainted metal transformed into something that shines more brightly than polished silver. The Flame has resumed its normal colour, and burns as if nothing has happened.

Von Oppenheim is dead. Although the Sacred Flame did not seem to touch him during the ritual, now his body is blackened almost beyond recognition and the air is filled with the stench of burned flesh.

Frost looks down at the burned corpse and mutters a prayer of benediction. Reverently, Frost picks up the clapper and places it back in the box.

“Ulric grant that his ritual worked,” he says, softly, “for he paid a high price for it – higher than I think he knew. “But if this man has truly done what he claims, then he dies a hero. If we have discovered how to remove the taint of Chaos, it will be invaluable for the Empire. it could even mean that mutations could be cured..

You people must take this safely to Altdorf, or dishonor his memory.” Go now – we will see him safely into the arms of Morr.”



Slaves to Darkness
19th Jahrdrung


It was a damp drizzly morning in Middenheim when the party regrouped at The Scholar’s. Both Daith Sharpeye and Mortelis Bloodbough were caked in mud from the night before, but looked revitalised. Lambeth told of the exploits of the mysterious ‘Grey Cowl’ through his tale, The Grey Cowl strikes.

Barlin “Grimbane” Duraksson looked obsessed by his new invention and headed off to the forge straight after breakfast.

The group decided to investigate the Aschenbeck Warehouse following Lambeth’s reports of a lair buried deep in the rock beneath Middenheim. Reaching the warehouse, they found that it was surrounded by a heavy presence of Aschenbeck Bravos. Deciding that it would be difficult to investigate the warehouse, they decided to visit Gregor Helstrum.

Helstrum listened to evidence that suggested that Graf Wolfgang von Aschenbeck was in fact, being framed by Werner Markheim. Importantly, the party also voiced their concerns about Adele Ketzenblum. The adventurers had evidence from Boris Koch, the proprietor of Koch’s that Adele had been seen on many occasions entering the Jade Sceptre Cult lair that they had discovered beneath the restaurant.

Helstrum said that Adele had ordered Koch’s to be burnt last night and Boris Koch and died during the raid. As Adele’s mentor, Helstrum maintained some loyalty to Adele and suggested she could simply have been working undercover. An experienced Witch Hunter, Helstrum did not entirely dismiss Mortelis Bloodbough‘s words. Looking melancholy, Helstrum recounted how she was such a bright apprentice. How she had saved his life; how she had brought many followers of chaos to justice and protected the Empire; how she had stayed his hand and protected the innocent. He lamented her recent zeal and her willingness to deal out mortal justice. In hollow tones he told of how he and Adele had been captured by the The Red Crown. He told of the cruel torture they both endured and how Adele’s injuries has become infected and her hand had to be amputated. Helstrum worried that this ordeal had made her susceptible to the ruinous powers and that she never truly survived her imprisonment…

Unwilling to act without knowing more of Adele’s current condition, Helstrum asked the adventurers to bring more proof that Adele Ketzenblum consorts with Chaos.


The party soon met Adele at the trial of Graf Wolfgang von Aschenbeck at the Temple of Verena. Because von Aschenbeck is a noble, he was able to have the affair held in the Temple of Verena. Because it is a trial for heresy and consorting with the Ruinous Powers, a Witch Hunter serves as the prosecution and judge: Adele Ketzenblum.

During the trial Mortelis Bloodbough and Robert Schalmer were called to give evidence by Aschenbeck’s lawyer Leopold Eggers. Mortelis gave evidence that the journal incriminating Graf Wolfgang von Aschenbeck was, in fact, forged by Ilse. Ilse further testified to this and claimed that Werner Markheim had paid her for the forgery. Robert Schalmer added a particularly damning witness statement about Brenner’s room and the suspicious Chaos symbols, which appeared to be amateurish forgeries. The symbol of Khorne was marked in paint rather than blood. The group also claimed that there was no such person as Brenner and he had been invented purely to frame Graf Wolfgang von Aschenbeck.

During the trial, Adele Ketzenblum looked bored at times and the Grey Cowl Lambeth managed to glimpse that her trial notes were nothing more than idle doodles. Adele did however order the arrest of Werner Markheim and arranged a subsequent trial for him for heresy against the Empire.

Following the trial, Lambeth used his silky skulduggery skills to follow Adele back to The Prospect with the rest of the group (apart from Barlin “Grimbane” Duraksson who was at his forge) close behind.

Adele quickly left The Prospect, heading to a new location. Lambeth and Robert Schalmer stayed to investigate The Prospect while Daith Sharpeye and Mortelis Bloodbough followed after Adele.

Lambeth tried unsuccessfully to blag his way into The Prospect and eventually he and Robert Schalmer climbed through Adele’s open bedroom window. Lambeth fell off the drainpipe.

The search of Adele’s room was not fruitful although they did discover her trial notes (or lack of useful notes, indicating her disinterest in proper judicial proceedings).

Meanwhile, Daith Sharpeye and Mortelis Bloodbough tracked Adele Ketzenblum through the winding back alleys of Middenheim, to The Brown Owl inn. The elves followed her inside and crept up the stairs, listening carefully at the bedroom doors, until they found one occupied. They entered the adjoining bedroom and Daith Sharpeye leaned out of the window to peer into Adele Ketzenblum’s room.
As he did so, the ever-alert and paranoid Ketzenblum spotted him and immediately reached for her weapons. Daith noted weaknesses in her armour before Mortelis Bloodbough tugged him back to safety.

Knowing their stealth was blown, Mortelis sprinted effortlessly to Adele’s bedroom door and waited. What happened next took the wardancer by surprise. Adele opened the door armed with a longsword in one hand and a dagger attached to her prosthetic on the other, and with rage in her eyes began a furious double bladed assault upon the elf. Mortelis dodged, his agile body arching away from her blades, but her sustained flurry finally caught Mortelis with a slight cut on his thigh.

Shocked, and reluctant to attack the Witch Hunter, Mortelis spun his spear across her arms, knocking her sword to the floor and clattering against her prosthetic dagger. Meanwhile, Daith Sharpeye had moved to an adjacent room to try and get a clear shot at the Witch Hunter.


Holding his breath, careful not to strike his kin, Daith Sharpeye threaded a shot through the narrow gap which struck Adele Ketzenblum diagonally in the shoulder piercing into her chest.

Adele Ketzenblum smiled at the sting of pain, revealing teeth stained red with blood. Her shattered mind returning to the security of her torture at the hands of the The Red Crown. The sting of pain made her feel alive, adrenaline coursed through her veins and her nipples hardened as she renewed her assault, grabbing her sword and striking Mortelis over and over. Moretelis’ defenses broke and her dagger plunged into his side sending warm blood spilling over his naked belly.

Mortelis Bloodbough, shaken by her strike, realised he had little choice but to attack her. He rose into the air unleashing tempest’s fury upon the Witch Hunter. His spear bit down into her sword hand, crushing her fingers, before sliding along her arm to impale her chest. Mortelis landed deftly onto the ground and backed away across the corridor, leveling his spear at her, hoping she would cease her assault.

With a rattling breath, Adele Ketzenblum straightened herself and charged towards the injured wardancer. Daith Sharpeye, ever covering his kin, released a deadly shot as she sprung towards Mortelis. The arrow drove through Adele’s hip, cutting through bone and sinew and the Witch Hunter crumpled, her leg twisting back behind her at an impossible angle as she fell to the floor.

There followed an eerie moment of stillness as the elves looked in shock at the fallen Witch Hunter. The silence was eventually broken by a gurgled cough from Adele, her face contorting in ecstasy as the life left her body.

Through Adele’s bedroom window the Chaos Moon was bloated, pregnant and casting a powerful light down onto the city, A star shot to earth from the moon like a drop of spittle from a drooling mouth….

Tula, vasa ar' yulna en i'mereth


If you go down to the woods tonight
You’d better go packed for bear.
If you go down to the woods tonight
Get ready to have a scare!

For Two wood elves with militant ways
Will hunker down beneath the moon rays
tonight’s the night the
Wood elves enact their ritual.

Worship time for Sylvan elves.
A couple of Asrai are having
A dose of drugs tonight.
Stalk them? catch them unawares?
don’t try it unless you want to fight.

See them gaily hack away.
They love to kill and slay,
They never have any qualms;
At crack of dawn their foes and opponents
Will lie on the ground dead,
Because they’re angry little sylvan elves

The smells and sounds of the city were far behind them now. Although the odours still clung to his clothes in a greasy cloying back of the throat manner, the sort that you tasted as much as smelt.
Humanity was still far too close at hand to wash it off in a brook or a river, the waters here stank of the lumber operations that were brave enough to operate this short way into the woods. This did not matter though, before the moons rose full in the sky their swift steps would have taken them deeper into the welcoming arms of the trees.

Daith moved through the trees ahead of Mortelis, falling back into the routine that had served them so well in their time before the neccessity of entering human lands, it felt as natural as breathing.

Mortelis savoured the sensations of the leaves on his face, the moss beneath his fingers when hands trailed languorously along branch. He could feel himself becoming closer to the spirits of the wood already.

The sights and sounds of Middenheim had affected him far more than those of Averheim. The carbuncle of civilisation had taken deeper and stronger root atop that rock and it had been clawing its way into Mortelis soul since they had arrived.
The involvement in human politics, his vow to serve the Alptraum woman, the ever present canker of mans’ inability to resist the ruinous powers, it felt right to be leaving them behind, if only for a scant few short hours.

As they moved past the silent guardians of the forest his eyes darted left and right, looking for a few special items that would aid their communion. barely interrupting their journey to swiftly cut a mushroom from a branch here, berries from an overhanging vine there. ingredients that would, when prepared correctly, open them to the currents that flowed through the natural world. Currents that the gods used to speak to their children.

  • * * *

….the rain pattered on the leaves as the sunlight struggled to penetrate the forest canopy, coaxing the elves back to consciousness as they lay caked in mud next to a huge dead stag. Every sound in the forest was sharp and the breaking dawn revealed a new colourful vibrancy, the grime of humanity washed clean. As the elves stirred, each breath seemed new, as if the air was drawn from a new world, clean and reborn.

Shattered memories began to return, shared memories of events that exist outside linear time and space, outside human comprehension.

Recollections of emotions: laughter, fear, anger, terror, sorrow, regret, love, happiness and hate all framed within a swimming forest with trees bending like blades of grass in an autumn breeze.

…….a stag, proud and tall, giving thanks for its life……a rat nibbling at the edges of the cosmos…. Caemalleath Starbrow: smiling, warmth, worry, waiting………The Gravin shrieking as her body burns……Kin lying dead and wounded….Larieth playing, hiding, leading you to safety………a man in a cowl laughing with puppets on each hand……a large succulent pork sausage……a forgotten man plunges a knife into your back…..Caemalleath screaming……the chaos moon is laughing…….a sea of blood……..the four horned beast rising………a green mask crying…….

The Grey Cowl strikes
Being an entirely accurate account of what happened.


Margarete von Aschenbeck clung to Lambeth as he made to depart and simpered.

“Don’t go! It’s too dangerous!”

“I must,” he replied, unswayed by her charms. “For the good of the Empire.”

“Then let me meaninglessly throw my life away for yours!” she pleaded, and proceeded to outline a plan that really wasn’t very good.

“Your plan isn’t very good,” said Lambeth. “Fairly amateurish in fact. But I shall allow you aid me by distracting Markheim over dinner at Koch’s.”

And, draping Margerete’s swooning form over a nearby divan, he lept from the house and into the gathering gloom.

Passing unseen through the city, the halfling drew over him his mantle, his hooded cloak, becoming with the sinking sun something else, a part of that growing darkness, until it was not the unassuming Lambeth that reached the Ashenbecke warehouse, but one of the night’s own shadows… the terror… The Grey Cowl!

The Grey Cowl surveyed the place with expert eyes. He saw the feeble efforts made to bar the windows, and sneered. He saw its nigh-unscaleable walls, and was undaunted. He saw the hideously mutated hound that slavered at the doors, and was unafraid. A shadow whispered by one window, and the Grey Cowl was inside.

A dining room, of no interest – but through a doorway, by dancing hearth-light, paced a cruel watchman, vigilant and alert, his eyes burning with their own baleful fires.

The Grey Cowl moved, sliding on fur-padded feet between each flicker of the fire, until he had gained another door, and was through.

Lighting a lamp he surveyed now an office, full to the brim with the records of Ashenbecke’s empire, books and papers of all kinds. Was the evidence he sought here, buried in banality? No. The Grey Cowl’s intellect flashed undeflected towards the heart of the matter – there! A loose flagstone. He heaved it aside with hidden strength and the warehouse surrendered it secrets to him.

Down he went, down, into the rock. Steps without promise of end, each after each looming from the pitch into his frail light, down, with Middenheim pressed all around him, swallowed into those dank depths until finally disgorged upon the precipice of a fathomless
pit, and beyond it, a terrible scene.

Across the pit on a plateau far below sat a great stone gate. From within its frame, a purplish glow oozed into the endless dark, painting the pallid forms of men with a sickly light. No, not men – the Grey Cowl looked closer – Mutants! For as they scuttled or slithered or hopped in the pursuit of their foul duties, he could see that each bore some ghastly gift of the chaos gods.

The Grey Cowl blinked once. Lesser folk would have crumbled, let me tell you. I mean this was really scary stuff. But the Grey Cowl Didn’t Think Too Much About Things, and set about his cunning plan.

Between him and the plateau, a series of rickety bridges crossed the darkness over the abyss, descending as they went. These he worked at with devious art, and when he was ready, sent down a whistling emissary.

A bolt shrieked through the gate and clattered against a wall, alerting the horrid assembley. It’s hulking leader snatched up the harbinger of his doom and barked orders. At once the horde issued up the bridges, seeking their attacker, but seeking in vain – seeking their deaths! The Grey Cowl sprung upon the vanguard, a whirl of flashing steel, bellowing his battle-cry :

“The Grey Cowl is here!”

A fair fight was offered. All fell before him. Limbs were hacked and heads were hewn. But now an endless aberrant mass boiled over the spans, too many for the Grey Cowl, too many even for him. The bridges creaked and groaned, and with a sudden snap spilled their gruesome burdens into the black. His deadly trap was sprung.

A ragged shadow swept from the cavern. It bristle with broken arrows and blood traced its passage as it sought sun and air. The Grey Cowl would return with his allies, there was some small work still for them to do.

Markheim’s days were numbered.

The Plots Thicken


After killing the last mutants in the Jade Sceptre Cult lair beneath Koch’s, the party set about searching the underground temple.

Robert Schalmer discovered various journals and parchments relating to cult activity but these only referred to members by cryptic names such as ‘Shifting blade’ and ‘All seeing eye’. Robert shared what he knew of the Jade Sceptre Cult.

The party found various other cult treasures and drugs in the lair but little to identify the men. Daith Sharpeye found 3 vials containing a black, sticky liquid.

The heroes were about to go to the Temple of Verena to report the discovery of the chaos cell when Lambeth suggested talking to the kitchen staff upstairs who had seemed to be turning a blind eye to events. Barlin “Grimbane” Duraksson looked distracted like he had had a ‘eureka’ moment and rushed off to the Dwarven Engineers Guild.

After questioning the chef, the rest of the party was introduced to Boris Koch the proprietor of Koch’s . Boris was nervous and tried in vain to lie about his knowledge of the Cultists in his cellar. Lambeth’s honeyed words reassured Boris and he eventually came clean. He said the he was been blackmailed by Helmut Faust and the cult to allow the cult to use the cellar. The cult used an old crime committed by Boris as leverage.

The party agreed to conceal their findings in return for Boris’ cooperation. Boris told of the names of the members that he knew ( Helmut Faust, Nicole Faust ). He also said that he saw a bald woman with a prosthetic hand coming and going.
The heroes were shocked that this was a similar description to the Witch Hunter Adele Ketzenblum. Did Boris see Ketzenblum? If so, what was she doing there? Was she working undercover to expose the cell? Mortelis Bloodbough wondered if the horror of her capture by the The Red Crown could have somehow turned her to the Ruinous Powers?

Boris agreed to dispose of the bodies and the party left.

The heroes visited the imprisoned Graf Wolfgang von Aschenbeck who was being kept in a large, clean cell in the dungeons beneath the Temple of Verena. Wolfgang protested his innocence and blamed Markheim for treachery. He was also worried about his daughter Margarete von Aschenbeck and thought Markheim would use the disgrace of his imprisonment as a way to force Margarete von Aschenbeck to marry him to save the Aschenbeck Empire.

Next the party visited Graf Wolfgang von Aschenbeck’s lawyer, Leopold Eggers. Eggers was worried that as Wolfgang had been accused of heresy, the ruthless Adele Ketzenblum was to act as both prosectution and Judge. Leopold had researched Ketzenblum and found that she had made a guilty verdict in all of her trials in the past year. Leopold feared that Graf Wolfgang von Aschenbeck may be beyond help.

The group then went to the Aschenbeck manor and discovered Werner Markheim having a loud argument with Lady Margarete in the front garden. She was shocked and affronted he would dare show his face at her home; he is apologetic about her father and slyly insinuates that the damage to her reputation must be considerable. Rodrik, Graf Wolfgang’s steward, intervened and “invited” Markheim to leave.

The group spoke with Margarete von Aschenbeck after the argument. She was tearful and begged the heroes to help. She suggested Werner Markheim may be at the Aschenbeck warehouse.

The Middenheim Town Crier


Todbringer Slays Beastman Host

Graf Boris Todbringer has been given command of the Grand Army’s rearguard. He’s detached from the main host and is stamping out beastmen in the Drakwald.

Graf Wolfgang von Aschenbeck Arrested!

Graf Wolfgang von Aschenbeck was arrested last night charged with conspiricy, murder, corruption, kidnap, embezzlement and treason. He will be tried for his crimes at the Temple of Verena by The Holy Order of the Templars of Sigmar.

Public Defecation Will Not Be Tolerated

From this day hence, anyone caught defecating or urinating in within view of nobility will be fined up to 10 shillings or confined in the stocks.

Lambeth’s thoughts, an insight

Lambeth, gore spraying past the pillar where his back is pressed, hidden from that room where one final madman (recently intent upon his life no less!) now gurgles hate into the hate-soaked stones, turns his thoughts to happier times, and applies the Power of Not Thinking Too Much About Things.

This is a technique he learned from his mother (ah happy times!) as she casually booted him from the kitchen with one downy-haired foot, or clouted him lovingly about the ears with oven-mitted gloves shouting, “Stop askin’ such bleedin’ stupid questions!” From this grew the great Technique, which he now employs with practiced precision, clamping hands about the head just so, and entering the ineffable state of Not Thinking Too Much.

So it is that Lambeth emerges from behind his pillar appearing quite unscathed, in mind and body, and, stepping buoyantly over the twitching thing on the floor, believes in his heart almost completely that affixing himself to these wonderful, heroic, murderously talented people was the best idea he’s ever had, and that, well, given the state of the Empire as a whole…

…this is really the safest place be, by all accounts.

Barlin's thoughts - 'The case of the poisoned food'

’The halfling cook done it, well it turned out suspecting a halfling is your best bet when dealing with food.

Some woman got him to do it, seems a pretty face can get a lot of things done.

Well we found the people responsible, they are dead. Daith Sharpeye again refused to help me deal with someone trying to kill me. Wait until I get my gun, i show him. I missed the crossbow and Blunderbuss, had to use me hammer.

Who were these people? How much money have they got, this area seems to be corrupt by the forces of chaos.

Humans really need to pay more attention to the evil in their midst.

Must not drink or eat anything from this place.’

An eventful breakfast

Upset that his breakfast was ruined, Lambeth stomped into the kitchen followed by Mortelis Bloodbough and Robert Schalmer

Inside the kitchen they found Felix- Halfling Chef, who when challenged, started to run. But with little consideration to the carefully planned chase scene that was to follow, Lambeth convinced Felix- Halfling Chef that he already knew about the skeletons in his closet and would expose him. Realising the game was up, Felix gave in and spilled the beans. After an explanation that was perhaps a little too graphic, Felix told the party that he had been approached by the radiant Nicole Faust who used her charms on him. Lambeth suspected that the woman had used magic to bewitch him.

Felix said that Faust persuaded him to poison the party’s breakfast and then sneak in and steal the bell clapper. Unfortunately, although the poison was potent, the chef loved his food and faltered when spiking the breakfast and did not apply the full dose.
The party set a trap, asking Felix- Halfling Chef to tell Nicole Faust the plan had been a success and to deliver the item to her.

The party waited for Faust to collect the box containing the clapper and followed her to Koch’s restaurant.

Daith Sharpeye finally lived up to his name and found a secret door in the wine cellar of Kochs. Lambeth, who was now chinking pleasantly as he moved, picked the lock and opened the secret entrance revealing a terrible underground cult lair.

Daith Sharpeye made a spectacular shot, throwing a bottle of spirits into a sconce in the center of the temple, covering Nicole Faust and nearby cultists in sticky fire.

Lambeth used his sling and sent a stone into Nicole Faust’s face, shattering her button nose.

Mortelis Bloodbough whirled through the room, dancing towards Nicole Faust, thrusting his spear into her mouth, severing her jaw and sending her to a hideous smiling death.

Meanwhile the cultists opened a cage to release the Chaos Spawn which immediately used its new-found freedom to attack its captors.

The cult leader tried to entrap Mortelis Bloodbough with magic, but the elf just managed to resist.

Robert Schalmer charged into the center of the temple, protected by Myrmidia as he engaged multiple foes. The cultists used underhand tactics against him, at one point stabbing him in the testicles, but Robert Schalmer stood strong.


Barlin “Grimbane” Duraksson’s legs finally brought him to the battle and he took to one flank, engaging a cult mutant in a savage hand to hand dual to the death. Meawhile, Daith Sharpeye stepped past Barlin “Grimbane” Duraksson and trained his bow on the slavering chaos beast which was now unfettered.

A mutant got fed up with trying to hit Lambeth who had run off to hide behind a pillar.

Mortelis Bloodbough took revenge on the Cult Leader and attacked him with Tempest’s fury, cutting him down in one blow.

With a large fight raging in the center of the temple, Robert Schalmer held true and was joined by Mortelis Bloodbough who’s agile dance brought him across the battlefield.

The chaos beast managed to reach Mortelis Bloodbough despite several mortal arrow strikes from Daith Sharpeye. The beast’s sharp fangs missed their target and Slaanesh unleashed terrible fury upon the beast and it exploded, sending ooze and sinew across the lair.

A smart slingshot from Lambeth downed the mutant who was attacking Barlin “Grimbane” Duraksson and Barlin “Grimbane” Duraksson went across to Daith Sharpeye to give him a piece of his mind.

With the beast dead, the remaining mutants were soon dispatched.

It was a clean fight for the heroes, who took only minor damage to their bodies and souls.


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