Meanwhile....a place to go in a hurry

Werner's gaze wandered over the surly lot of labourers and the pair of crossbows pointing towards Johann and himself. Swallowing thickly, this sort of tension always seemed to cause a great thirst he wondered aloud to the room, "I hope our leaders can reach some sort of agreement soon, it would appear you have someplace you wish to be soon."

Nodding to a wounded labourer sporting a poor attempt at a bloody bandage he adds questioningly, "Not the first visit of the evening I expect...and possibly not the last. Maybe your crew here would like to cut a deal that lets us all walk out of here to drink and whore another night".

Honour among Thieves: Share the wealth

Werner smiled at the offer of the crossbow to Harbull, the man ...er halfling, was a inspired thrower of stones. It probably helped that he was throwing them at birds though, his focus towards food and meals was second to none. It made him an excellent boon companion, very appreciative of the food and drink that interspersed their (so far short) travels together.

Taking the crossbow he approached Wanda. "I think this should be carried by you, it makes the most sense for how we are marching. I've had a soldier show me this weapon before, and it's not terribly difficult to use..." Werner launches into the simple operations of the crossbow. Luckily this one included a stirrup and the draw belt was present on the dead gangers waist. She should be able to load, albeit slowly.

"Just take your time lining up the shot, that way there won't be any mistakes' Werner smiles confidently, thinking of the mayhem a crossbow bolt to the back could do to any one of them. 'You may want to carry to cocked but unloaded' he suggests before leaning in a bit closer and whispering, 'it's pretty treacherous down here, pits can open under your feet.'

An offer of help: playing with fire

Werner moves quickly to ensure the small oil fire doesn't brew up into something more dangerous.Luckily the lantern had fallen close to his post so that he wouldn't need to move far from the opening. Moving small flammable detritus away from the patch of flame he reflects that it would be just their luck for some supporting beams to catch flame and cause this whole subsurface rabbit snake pit to come crashing down on their heads.

Snake pit indeed, gangs sweeping through and killing one another in frenzy of blood letting, what had they walked into? The fire was placed under control and begin to burn a bit lower and added even more ominous flickers to Kirstens disquieting behaviour. There were some strange folks he had fallen in with, mercurial and quick changing behaviours.....perhaps the elves moods were contagious. Contagion...plague....Werner felt the urge to burn his clothing and get out of this place rise again.

He suddenly realized that the fading light would create problems for them. Springing into the sort of solid useful action that often dispelled disturbing thoughts of the empires people he quickly wielded his hand axe to bust up wood into some torch sizes. Flotsam from the floor was rifled to finish the makeshift torches. They wouldn't last for long, but hopefully they wouldn't need to....

The empty box: Werner comes up for Breath

Muffled within his cloak hood Werner finds it progressively more uncomfortable to breath in this room. Nothing useful, and certainly nothing that will get them out of this place any faster. Even more disturbing is the fact that there is a missing arm that hasn't turned up.

Albrecht one hand's wisdom comes floating to him from years past. "Them jobs that is sold to you as a peach rarely are. Else why would sum fella make an effort to gussy up the reward and skim on the details..."

As Kirsten and Werner finish combing the room Werner bolts as soon as reasonable. Arriving back all eyes turn to him for a moment, drawn by his overly rapid movement down the corridor. He shakes his head, 'Nothing except disease, death and ill omen'. Conversation returns to the box and the implications.

He inspects his gloves carefully, considering tossing them, and then removes his impromtu facemask. He nods at Johann's declaration, indeed, there is no reason to tarry in this diseased charnel house. Hoisting his axe he prepares to move forward with the group.

Richer Blood: In Which Wanda Reflects On Her Learnings

Wanda stood opposite Johann, supposedly manning the exit with him. Despite her mistakes, he had been kind and understanding - no small feat given that those mistakes could have endangered their lives. His life.

Her life.

She looked back at the body she had searched and thought about the bizarre print of a leaf. She had stuffed that piece of paper into a pocket, on the off chance that it might be useful. Was there some sort of hierarchy here? Some of them had paper prints, whilst others had a copper image which they wore?

Her mind wandered further still. She could still feel the dull flesh of the body in her fingertips. The extreme weight of its arms. How stubborn the joints had been. Once she had overcome the shock of the scene, she had been quite clinical in her thinking - she had carefully investigated the ragged stab wounds. She looked under its eyelids and at the disgusting pips that appeared to be its teeth. The whole thing was disgusting, but she had to admit - it was a great way to learn. Where else would she have the ability to see a dead man? To touch a dead man?

"Wanda?"

Her reverie broken, she looked up. Malmir materialised from the darkness, wasting no time in explaining the situation in the room he had just come from.

"...and someone has removed the thing's arm," he finished. "Anyway, I wanted to know if you sensed any magic with Oldenhaller's little box? Because if it's mundane..." he trailed off. "If it's mundane, I question the future of this enterprise."

Her hand covered her mouth as she looked up at the elf in shock. She was getting used to the idea of being surrounded by dead bodies - it was the lack of emotion with which the elf spoke that surprised her. He spoke of the body in the same fashion as one might speak of a broken shoe. It was almost as if the implications of the find were inconvenient for him, as opposed to downright horrific. And he was more concerned with the box, it seemed.

There must be method in his madness, she reasoned.


Please, she begged any god that would listen.

Richer Blood: Werner recoils

Werner creeped down the corridor, poorly lit by torchlight and entered into yet another deranged room. The smell of the abatoir had taken on a slightly discordant note; a hint of rotting fruit perhaps. His face crumples in disgust as he gets a better look at the well appointed body lying upon the floor.

"Ugh, that was not a healthy man. I'd not touch him with your hands if you can avoid it" Werner proceeds to wrap the hood of his cloak about his lower nose and mouth muffling his already deep voice, "They say a miasma of disease may drift off of the plague ridden."

An childhood memory intrudes of the panic at mittelmund when rumors of the plague abounded. Burly men surrounding a house, wrapped with more clothing than during a harsh winter, despite the heat of summer. A fire...

Moving around in obvious nervousness at the perimeter of the room, Werner looks for more clues to this dead man's tale. The knick knacks of his desk spill across the floor, a goose feather quill soaking up ink into it's light coloured feathers. The oil from a shattered lamp merge with the large congealed pool of blood about the corpses ragged stump of an arm. A chilling after thought occurs to him, "Try not to trip over that missing arm either," he shudders.

Clues in the Blood: Hatchet man

Werner watched Malmir moving rapidly amongst the corpses... searching...searching. Did elves ever stop moving he wondered. As more fig leafs appeared he realized they might be like passes to the harvest fair. Show your ticket to enter.....

Malmir's frenetic activity seemed endless and now continued into a proposal for Werner and Kirsten to scout the next room with him. It seemed so challenging to make decisions this quickly, what was wrong with some measured contemplation? he thought to himself.

Checking his other companions he could see the answer had already been made. Johann and Wanda appeared to have the other doorway covered, the boatman seemed to hold his blade competently, and Wanda seemed a bit less rattled standing by him. He looked to to Harbull with a questioning look to make sure his small friend was okay.

'Yes Malmir, I think that sounds like a reasonable plan of action'. Allowing Kirsten to pass by the opening he guarded he proceeded to follow her, trailing slightly behind. Hopefully her quick wits might still be able to quell any violence before it erupted.

Kirsten Explores: Werners Axe is finally drawn

The scatter of the pebble in the hallway made Werner jump a bit. He was comforted to see that Johann was as tense as he was. At his gesture he followed the man down the corridor into the gloom as quietly as possible, although their movements sounded much louder than the void of noise Kirsten had made.

Why am I thinking about Frau Fleischer's shoppe at a time like this? he thought to himself.
-Blood. The answer came as he stepped into the room. He stared at the dark stains and half revealed secrets of dead men dancing in the flickering light of a half consumed torch. Of course it would smell like a butcher shop....his nose had clued in before his mind.

It was strange to see unknown men dead. Werner had seen farm accidents, tavern fights gone awry, duels brought on by too much drink or debt, but this was the first time he had never seen the victim prior to their death. He felt hollow; how should he feel to these men? He could not summon up even a bit of like or dislike. Perhaps it meant he was a bad man.

Noticing Johann moving to guard the next door he followed his lead. I think this calls for drawn weapons he finally decided. His axe was moved from his sling to hang easily in hand.

A thorough search: Werner prods the group

Leaning against the wall, with his attention down the next corridor, Werner only occasionally glances back to watch the search.

He picks out Harbulls soft voice quite easily, a result of their recent association in noisy tavern and inn environs. "How much should we be trusting what that Oldenhaller fellow told us? His tale seems increasingly... lacking..."  The halfling asks.

His mind plays with the question a bit. He whispers back across the room, "I'm sure Herr Oldenhaller must be trustworthy. How would you become a man of such importance otherwise? He probably just needs to rely on servants and such who didn't have all the information. Afterall, he wants us to succeed, no? Telling us lies and keeping information from us would only make things more difficult."

Watching the elf finish working his way through the clutter, and Kirsten complete her search of the walls, Werner nods with his head down the next corridor. "Perhaps Kirsten should take lead, so you can more easily use your bow without getting rushed Malmir. Johann and I can go next with Wanda and Harbull in the back"

Unexpected Discoveries: Werner the gatekeeper

Nodding at Johann's suggestion Werner moves over to the other doorway. Gingerly moving through the debris scattered about the room, and past both Malmir and Kirsten doing a careful search he eases into position on the opposite side from Johann.

One hand on a weapon he cocks his head to the side to try and hear listen for sounds coming down the corridor.

Into The Asylum: A gentleman and his coat

Werner watches in slack jawed surprise as Malmir preps his bow like he's hunting on a lord's land and slips into the dark corridor. Maybe elves can't be killed by mortal weapons? he thought for a moment but knew it must be untrue, the elf had bled from that fall.

Rubbing his cheek from where he had taken an elf foot to the face during the extraction in the pit he quietly remarks to the remaining members "That Malmir fella seems pretty intent on getting himself hurt. I don't much mind if he learns a lesson, but I'll be pretty irked if he gets one of us hurt too".

Hopping across the pit, he turns to help the remaining party across safely. "Perhaps he doesn't speak our talk very well," he adds charitably, "and didn't understand we want to trick people before we fight them."

Once all are safely across Werner will cautiously move down the corridor with the others, making as little sounds as possible and listening for noise.

Into The Asylum: Werner recalls a precedent

Werner's jaw drops for a moment in astonishment: Elves can disappear! Perhaps there is something to the stories.......he thinks. After a moment his brain reconstructs what has happened in the gloom.

"This reminds me of the time Rudolph fell down the old Hansfelter well," he notes. Looking dubiously at the small patch of ground between the door and the pit he shakes his head at the suggestions to block the door.

"Kirsten, if anyone shows up, explain to them we have a drunk down there, the gods know enough people fall down holes if they can't handle their alcohol" The thought of alcohol makes Werner's palate tingle momentarily before he gets back on task.

Laying down on his belly he leans over the edge and inspects the pit. "Malmir, can you reach my hand if you jump?" His hand dangles into the darkness. "I may be able to climb down and boost you if no one has a rope."

Into The Asylum: Werner makes a point against points

Werner looks at the various weapons being brought out and fingered absent mindedly. It had the reek of a bad situation charging down upon them like a crazed boar.

"It's easy enough to start a fight," he said slowly, thinking of various tavern brawls he had seen, many that had resulted in life time scars and disability for participants. "It's much harder to stop one."

"If our elf can hold back his lust for human blood for long enough, perhaps we can benefit from some silver tongues" he tips his head towards the ladies in their midst.

"Have your weapons ready, but lets not indicate we are seeking a fight". Werner adjusts his axes to be easily accessible, but leaves them in their carrying loops.

Into The asylum: Werner suggests the obvious option

The light fades from the footman's lantern, leaving the group shrouded by darkness. The sounds of the city are not far away, but seem curiously muffled to Werner, with the sounds of his companions dominating his senses. Various creaking of leather, and fidgeting of possessions. The coolness of the night has been displaced by the nearness of friendly bodies, and hints of the fine mealed served by oldenhaller waft on everyone's breath.

-A fine meal before an execution? Werner shakes his head a moment to banish the thought. Where did that come from? Besides it seemed more like a tale from knights and social betters....who would waste good food on a doomed commoner?
-A rich man might, traitorous thoughts hiss back at him.

"...What do we do next?" echoes Malmir's question against the close stonework of the stairwell.

"It looked look a stout enough door," remarksWerner as he pushes his bulk towards the front of the group. "Feels like it too," he adds, as he runs his broad callused hands over the scarred wood of the door and frame and gives an experimental push.

"Normally one would knock at a door. Anyone know what that gibberish was on the door?" he asks gesturing to the writing on the wall.

A new Life Beckons: Werner hears the call

Swept along by events Werner could hardly keep with with all the brand new experiences. Running from footpads, meeting with an elf (rumors of tail still to be evaluated), and now rubbing elbows (or at least standing across a very well constructed table with intriguing wood inlays) with the upper crust. It was like a mix of some of the best tales he had cherished hearing. Tales that had sent him to seek his fortune....Werner's eyes began to glaze like some livestock again, robbing his speach.

He started and looked towards Harbull. Guiltily he realized how much his new, but good, friend must be suffering. The last few meals had been small and mean to stretch their funds.....why was it that the bigger the town the more they felt they could charge for items that weren't even as good? A good job would soon change things, and who knew? The old timers talked about 'lootin rights' and 'trinkets and such' picked up during adventures that could 'pad out the old bottom line'. It probably meant picking up some apples or eggs or something from farms along the way. That was hardly out of line, was it? You don't hear about adventurers being troubled about the small stuff now, do you? Kirsten would probably know, she seemed full of rich speech that townspeople seemed to toss around with little trouble.

Werner turned his eyes back from considering his friend and staring at the surroundings. It was a GOOD thing these fast talkers were picking up on the important bits. He arrive a bit slower to the party, but he knew were to go. Werner's distraction with abstract adventurers melted away as the details to the current adventure began to come forth.

A fateful meeting. - Werner breaks the silence

"Harbull!," Werner cries in excitement to the halfling at his side, "Our adventure has landed in our laps. Well paying? Dangerous? A councillor backing the job. Why this has all the earmarks of a great job based on the stories at the travellers rest."

"The old veteran's would call this one a plum job I'm sure. We'd be fools not to petition for the job."

"Say", Werner says turning to Wanda, "have you heard anything about Herr Oldenhaller? We'll have to do our best to get an audience.....this man has a STREET named after him."

Looking towards the other wanderers in the vicinity he lowers his voice to Wanda and Harbull. "I hope we don't have much competition for the job, or perhaps there is substantial employment...." His voice trails off and he rubs his chin looking thoughtful.