Brat Khresti enters the great room with a somber look. No one died in the battle. We didn't gain ground but we didn't lose any either, what could it be? There were empty seats at the table. Vtrara and Palomnyk were not there, nor was Kihot.
Kihot entered the room. "Vtrara and Palomnyk have served this city well and faithfully for many years, but they have decided to leave the order. They have been called back to their homes and feel they will serve their purpose there. Our numbers are weakened and our rank grows small, but we have been granted a great gift. Those of us who remain are steadfast in our mission and our scope. More than ever, we need to form an unshakeable bond for the good folk of this city. We all need to get better, be better. Orden Molotka will rid this city of the plague that ails it."
Showing posts with label Story Time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Story Time. Show all posts
Friday, January 16, 2015
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Storytime - Mordheim - Getting My Feet Wet
"It's time boy. You ready?"
"Let's do this."
The oaken door opened onto a dark, dark night. Kihot is leading us to the western ourskirts of thecity. Our group has no formation, no rank as we take the long walk toward the trouble. There have been reports of strange happens beyond the farm lands that surround this area. Missing livestock, dried up wells, diseased fields. It is unknown what exactly is causing it but we know it must be stopped.
Brat Khresti raises his hammer as a signal to stop our movement.
"There" warns Khresti.
He motions with the hammer in the direction of a large barn off in the distance. (How can he see, it's pitch black out here?) There's no moon to light the sky and our torches make it impossible to see that far.
"They're coming this way. Extinguish your torches."
The darkness is now upon us. As my eyes adjust in time to see the door of a small, nearby hovel close.
"Slesh, secure that building." commands Kihot
Vtrara and Palomnyk take up their positions at the sides of Kihot and Brat Khresti. Fanatyk, Oderzymi, and Synyak head out to the left of the order. And finally, Chayst and myself head to the right. The fight begins now.
"Let's do this."
The oaken door opened onto a dark, dark night. Kihot is leading us to the western ourskirts of thecity. Our group has no formation, no rank as we take the long walk toward the trouble. There have been reports of strange happens beyond the farm lands that surround this area. Missing livestock, dried up wells, diseased fields. It is unknown what exactly is causing it but we know it must be stopped.
Brat Khresti raises his hammer as a signal to stop our movement.
"There" warns Khresti.
He motions with the hammer in the direction of a large barn off in the distance. (How can he see, it's pitch black out here?) There's no moon to light the sky and our torches make it impossible to see that far.
"They're coming this way. Extinguish your torches."
The darkness is now upon us. As my eyes adjust in time to see the door of a small, nearby hovel close.
"Slesh, secure that building." commands Kihot
Vtrara and Palomnyk take up their positions at the sides of Kihot and Brat Khresti. Fanatyk, Oderzymi, and Synyak head out to the left of the order. And finally, Chayst and myself head to the right. The fight begins now.
Thursday, August 14, 2014
Storytime - Mordheim - Dinner
I am utterly exhausted.
I thought I was more than prepared to take on this task. All I want to do is rest. Right now the bare rocky ground would be
welcomed. My eyelids are so heavy, my
muscles are so sore. We enter the
building. I don’t have a room of my own
to slink into so I shuffle toward the great room. That makeshift cot is there. Ah, sleep.
Brat Khresti has left me to go to his quarters. I open the door daydreaming and yearning for
the approaching sleep.
Oh man…
The disappointment was evident on my face. Eight sets of eyes look up at me. I think I’ve interrupted dinner. Dinner.
Yeah, yeah, I am hungry. I pull
up a chair and reach for some bread. The
eyes that looked up at me now pierced my skin.
Just the weight of the stares stops my hand.
"Hungry?" Kihot questioned.
"Yeah." I said sheepishly
"Do you think that's for you?"
"Uhm..."
"What did you do to earn that?"
"Nothing"
"Do you still think you should do that?"
"I need food. I can go get some bread from my bag, I can pitch in."
"I don't think you can."
The fearful look on my face was now replaced by a look of confusion.
"That is the bread from your bag. It's a treat for us. No mold. We couldn't resist." Kihot chuckled.
The confusion was replaced with relief.
"Dig in!"
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Story Time - Mordheim - Now
Training? What did he
mean? I already know how to fight,
search, what could they need to train me on?
I came here to fight. I came here
because I had nothing left. I needed
some reason to be on this planet. But I
don’t need training. I have my sword; I
have my health and my wits… I should be
out there. I can fight. What am I doing here?
I begin to gather my things.
I will fight today. As I reach
for the door it begins to open. I slide
quickly in behind it with my weapon at the ready.
They came in with their heads hung low. Extra dirt and blood adorned their garments. The party was short one. I didn’t have to ask but I heard the words
escape from my mouth.
“Where’s Povahu?”
No answer. None was
needed.
The returning members continued silently into their rooms. Doors closed sharply and soon I was alone
again in the corridor. Then I heard the
moan of well-worn hinges under the great weight of one of the doors. Brat Khresti appeared in the hall; he looked
me in the eye and then turned his gaze to the great room at the end of the corridor. I followed him to the room and closed the door behind me.
Brat Khresti's eyes were dark and serious. He looked at me and I felt his stare go down into my soul. We sat silently at the large table. I was not about to be the first to speak, I couldn't.
Brat Khresti began, "Remember I told you we'd been expecting you? I witnessed you in a dream. I discussed it with the other members of the order. What I didn't tell them is that I also saw the fall of Povahu. I knew nothing good could come of the others knowing of today's events. I thought we'd have more time. All of your life's events have led up to this. You are to be our new Witch Hunter. You must go through your training now."
"What if I decline?" The words had escaped without a thought. I shocked myself.
"The door's not locked. You may leave whenever you want."
We sat in silence for what seemed an eternity.
"I'm not going anywhere. When do we start?"
_______________________________________________________________
Brat Khresti's eyes were dark and serious. He looked at me and I felt his stare go down into my soul. We sat silently at the large table. I was not about to be the first to speak, I couldn't.
Brat Khresti began, "Remember I told you we'd been expecting you? I witnessed you in a dream. I discussed it with the other members of the order. What I didn't tell them is that I also saw the fall of Povahu. I knew nothing good could come of the others knowing of today's events. I thought we'd have more time. All of your life's events have led up to this. You are to be our new Witch Hunter. You must go through your training now."
"What if I decline?" The words had escaped without a thought. I shocked myself.
"The door's not locked. You may leave whenever you want."
We sat in silence for what seemed an eternity.
"I'm not going anywhere. When do we start?"
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Story Time - Mordheim - Daybreak
Daybreak
The night was ending. A reddish glow began seeping into the room through small gaps in the boarded up windows. I wiped the sleep from my eyes, this was the best sleep I had gotten in ages. I sat up from my make shift cot in the corner to find the room empty of all other life. I made my way to the door pulling it open revealing the hallway from the night before.
The morning glow illuminated featured I didn't notice the night past. Multiple doors stood on either side of the hallway separated by spans of old wooden walls. Some wall sections were adorned with once beautiful tapestries depicting the former glory of the city. Why had the comet seemingly spared this building?
I was startled by a creaking door opening near the other end of the hall. Brat Khresti appeared in the hallway and came toward me.
"Morning. Come, there is much to do."
_____________________________________________________________________________
The streets of the city produced their all too familiar smells. The moldy wood was only slightly covered by the ever-present odor of rotting fish. Always the fish?! The dust covered streets were devoid of life at this hour. Soon, what was left of the people of this city would be venturing out. The light of day brought with it some security, enough to try to go about with normal living. The streets were slightly safer once the sun was up. The sun keeps away the man sized vermin and the living dead that haunt this town at night.
The City of the Damned. That's what the rest of the Empire calls us. What else could describe all of the vile filth, evil, and greed that this wretched comet has caused us. I don't subscribe to comet being a blessing. I just want to find the Wyrd Stone to keep it out of the hands of those who would use it to destroy and enslave. It holds no value to me outside of that. Some say we can use the power of the stones to rid this once great city of all that plagues us. But I think those people see it as a way to take power for themselves. How many gold crowns does a rich man need? Just one more.
Brat Khresti has been looking to the south. What does he see? How long has he been staring? Do I say anything? My questions are all answered as he turns his gaze to me.
"Your training will have to wait."
"Training?"
"Keep the door closed." was his final order to me. With that I closed the door.
The night was ending. A reddish glow began seeping into the room through small gaps in the boarded up windows. I wiped the sleep from my eyes, this was the best sleep I had gotten in ages. I sat up from my make shift cot in the corner to find the room empty of all other life. I made my way to the door pulling it open revealing the hallway from the night before.
The morning glow illuminated featured I didn't notice the night past. Multiple doors stood on either side of the hallway separated by spans of old wooden walls. Some wall sections were adorned with once beautiful tapestries depicting the former glory of the city. Why had the comet seemingly spared this building?
I was startled by a creaking door opening near the other end of the hall. Brat Khresti appeared in the hallway and came toward me.
"Morning. Come, there is much to do."
_____________________________________________________________________________
The streets of the city produced their all too familiar smells. The moldy wood was only slightly covered by the ever-present odor of rotting fish. Always the fish?! The dust covered streets were devoid of life at this hour. Soon, what was left of the people of this city would be venturing out. The light of day brought with it some security, enough to try to go about with normal living. The streets were slightly safer once the sun was up. The sun keeps away the man sized vermin and the living dead that haunt this town at night.
The City of the Damned. That's what the rest of the Empire calls us. What else could describe all of the vile filth, evil, and greed that this wretched comet has caused us. I don't subscribe to comet being a blessing. I just want to find the Wyrd Stone to keep it out of the hands of those who would use it to destroy and enslave. It holds no value to me outside of that. Some say we can use the power of the stones to rid this once great city of all that plagues us. But I think those people see it as a way to take power for themselves. How many gold crowns does a rich man need? Just one more.
Brat Khresti has been looking to the south. What does he see? How long has he been staring? Do I say anything? My questions are all answered as he turns his gaze to me.
"Your training will have to wait."
"Training?"
"Keep the door closed." was his final order to me. With that I closed the door.
Monday, July 7, 2014
Story Time - Dwarfs of Anarchy
The Dwarfs of Anarchy Motorcycle Club (DoA)
History - The club was formed in -1967 by Grimnir Turnisson and Piney Wingorstin, following their return from serving under King Gotrekin the War of Vengeance. The first charter was called "Rocks of the Old World", simply because they weren't settled in any one place. They cruised the World Edge Mountains as vagabonds. It wasn't until after Gemma Turnisson, Grimnir's wife, became pregnant with her first son, Jackson, that they decided to settle in Alarming, the town where Gemma grew up. At that point, Grimnir Turnisson thought Alarming was a little too cute for a charter name, so he kept the charter the Rocks of the Old World. That's when the DAMCROW handle was born. The first chapter was founded in Alarming and originally had only nine members, the other seven being Quartz Grazer, Thornas "Uncle Tom" Whitloc, Chico Villain, Lenknee "The Pimp" Janitor, Clay Marrow, Keil McGheer and Otto "L'il Killer" Morax. Six of these were war veterans. Turnisson was the President up until his death in -1941, when Clay Marrow took over. The club was originally formed as a form of social rebellion for dwarfs who simply wanted freedom and no longer wished to live by society's rules. They also tried to protect the dwarfs (and gold) of Alarming from outside gangs and warpstone dealers, rather than exploit them.
In -1891, the Skaven attempted to expand their warpstone operations into Zhufbar, leading to a bloody war with DAMCROW, who retaliated by defending the territory under their control. This war ran until -1889, when the Skaven finally backed down after taking heavy casualties
DAMCROW rules the town of Alarming with an iron fist. They protect the village from outside influences, but also use violence to keep things the way they like it.
Activities – Any organization needs gold to survive, the DoA are no exception. To keep up with their rebel lifestyle and to keep the brew flowing they decided to be weapon runners. They use their exceptional weapon making abilities to keep the Orcs of the East Bay area well armed and DAMCROW’s coffers full.
They also have a mutually beneficial arrangement with the hobgoblins of the East Gate helping them with guerrilla attacks against their chaos dwarf oppressors.
Alarming’s central location makes it a target of other gangs. The Norse try to get their racist agenda across and the Skaven want to get their warpstone closer to Brettonia and Norsca.
Stats
Club: Dwarfs of Anarchy
City: Alarming
Charter: Rocks of the Old World
Nickname(s): DoA, DAMCROW Dwarfs of Anarchy Motorcycle Club, Rocks of the Old World
Club Colors: Black and Blue
Club House: Turnisson-Marrow Automotive Repair
History - The club was formed in -1967 by Grimnir Turnisson and Piney Wingorstin, following their return from serving under King Gotrekin the War of Vengeance. The first charter was called "Rocks of the Old World", simply because they weren't settled in any one place. They cruised the World Edge Mountains as vagabonds. It wasn't until after Gemma Turnisson, Grimnir's wife, became pregnant with her first son, Jackson, that they decided to settle in Alarming, the town where Gemma grew up. At that point, Grimnir Turnisson thought Alarming was a little too cute for a charter name, so he kept the charter the Rocks of the Old World. That's when the DAMCROW handle was born. The first chapter was founded in Alarming and originally had only nine members, the other seven being Quartz Grazer, Thornas "Uncle Tom" Whitloc, Chico Villain, Lenknee "The Pimp" Janitor, Clay Marrow, Keil McGheer and Otto "L'il Killer" Morax. Six of these were war veterans. Turnisson was the President up until his death in -1941, when Clay Marrow took over. The club was originally formed as a form of social rebellion for dwarfs who simply wanted freedom and no longer wished to live by society's rules. They also tried to protect the dwarfs (and gold) of Alarming from outside gangs and warpstone dealers, rather than exploit them.
In -1891, the Skaven attempted to expand their warpstone operations into Zhufbar, leading to a bloody war with DAMCROW, who retaliated by defending the territory under their control. This war ran until -1889, when the Skaven finally backed down after taking heavy casualties
DAMCROW rules the town of Alarming with an iron fist. They protect the village from outside influences, but also use violence to keep things the way they like it.
Activities – Any organization needs gold to survive, the DoA are no exception. To keep up with their rebel lifestyle and to keep the brew flowing they decided to be weapon runners. They use their exceptional weapon making abilities to keep the Orcs of the East Bay area well armed and DAMCROW’s coffers full.
They also have a mutually beneficial arrangement with the hobgoblins of the East Gate helping them with guerrilla attacks against their chaos dwarf oppressors.
Alarming’s central location makes it a target of other gangs. The Norse try to get their racist agenda across and the Skaven want to get their warpstone closer to Brettonia and Norsca.
Stats
Club: Dwarfs of Anarchy
City: Alarming
Charter: Rocks of the Old World
Nickname(s): DoA, DAMCROW Dwarfs of Anarchy Motorcycle Club, Rocks of the Old World
Club Colors: Black and Blue
Club House: Turnisson-Marrow Automotive Repair
Thursday, July 3, 2014
Story Time - Mordheim
Introduction:
Orden Molotka
I could hear the dirt crunch beneath my feet. The air was heavy and damp from the
approaching mist. This is not a safe
time of night to be out. Is there ever a
safe time to be out in Mordheim? Every
sound snaps my neck around and elicits a flinch. I wouldn’t even be doing this if it weren’t
for… whatever… I am.
A whole building is out of place here. Is that it?
It is. A large wooden door stands
between me and the fulfillment of my mission on this night. I can hear an almost imperceptible sound
from inside and raise my hand to knock at the door. Before my hand can reach its target a voice
from the shadow speaks out a warning.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
I stop. I turn my
eyes and try to focus toward the direction of the sound.
“Good idea.”
“Who are you?”
“This isn’t the place to draw attention to you.”
“I said, “Who are
you?””
He started to stir. I
reached for my dagger.
“Woah, woah. I don’t
want trouble, guy.”
He showed himself out of the shadows. A hunched old drunkard stumbled out a held
himself up against the door.
“Step aside old man I need to get in there.”
“Do you know what you’re doing? Where you’re heading?”
“Yes. In there. Now,
out of my way.”
The old man looked up.
Then he straightened. The figure
now looked strong, tall, imposing. His
voice strengthened.
“You should be careful how you speak to folks around
here. Now, do you know what you’re
doing?”
“Yes.” I said trying to sound sure of myself and
unafraid. “Five generation of my family
called this place home. I’ve heard
numerous tales of what once was here, the glory of this place. I want to take that back from the cursed and
the wielders of magic. Not for my
family, they are gone, but for this city.”
He removed his hood.
A slight grin appears on his face…
“Enter.”
The large door opened with a creak and led to a dark
corridor. The hall spilled into a small
room that housed a long wooden table.
Carved into the center of the wood was a familiar symbol, the mark of Orden Molotka, the Order of the Hammer. Twelve chairs surrounded the table; five each
along the two long sides, one at the head, and one at the foot. There was no other decoration or furniture in
the room. Two small candles created a
dim glow. The large figure that followed
me from outside took his seat at the foot of the table leaving two side seats
remaining. He motioned toward the chairs
and I took one.
I could feel multiple eyes on me. The man at the head of the table spoke.
“Welcome, Brat Khresti told us
to be expecting you. I am Kihot.”
The rest went around the table introducing themselves.
The Witch Hunters…
“Slesh”
“Chayst”
“Povahu”
The Zealots…
“Palomnyk”
“Vtrata”
The Flagellants…
“Fanatyk”
“Oderzymi”
“Synyak”
The Warrior Priest…
“I am Brat Khresti.
We welcome you here Dzheffri.”
“How do you know my name?”
“We knew you’d be coming. Your arrival was foretold to us long
ago. The anger that fills you has sent
you here. We will teach you, train you,
and mold you in the sposib molotka. You
shall become your destiny, Orden Molotka.”
Something New - Story Time
My history in this world of miniature hobby-ing is short and now I realize I don't just like the painting but the "fluff" too. That being said I going to add that aspect to the blog too. I will be posting some history, lead-up, and stories about my teams, war bands, and armies. I'm still going to do painting stuff here as it has helped me in my learning process but I'm adding story times in here too. Thanks to anyone who reads this blog and feel free to post any and all comments are welcome. This stuff is fun and with the help of you out there I can become a better painter, hobbyist, player, writer, etc.
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