[IC] Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

[Penny]

Emmaline eyed the pistol for a moment. The question showed a complete disregard for the practical difficulties of magic, but for a miracle she did actually have a trick. Theoretically it would allow her to transfigure an object for a few minutes. In theory it could be used to create fake coins, but the reality was that making a convincing fake coin was more expensive than it was worth. A trio of flaming beastmen charged towards them, flagstones cracking beneath clattering hooves. Emmaline froze in horror but before she could act a wall of water smashed into the three of them as the dwarves turned their fire fighting engine onto the chaos beasts. All three exploded with a thunder crack of expanding steam which literally blew fragments of bone in all directions.

"Ranald's balls," Emmaline muttered and then cast the spell, fingers flexing over the barrel of the pistol in a series of arcane gestures. There was a gentle hum as the spell took effect. Hastily she shoved the gun back into Neil's hand, worried it might fall from trembling fingers. Miraculously the Witch Hunter was still on his feet, though he was clutching his side and backing away towards the halbiders. His sword and hammer striking out at intervals to keep the attackers off him. Smoke wreathed him where his hair and clothing smoked from the heat of the ensorcelled beastmen. The Gods alone knew what had been in that building or how many beastmen were inside. Even as she watched another pair of beast man, one with the head of a bear burned down to a skull shoved its way free of the burning mansion.

"We need to go!" she all but whined.

[POOHEAD189]

Neil cut the arm of a beastman, who instantly redirected its swipe in a backhand strike. Neil ducked, three hairs on his head were singed, bringing an acrid smell to the air. Neil buried his knife into the thing's abdomen, and though the act gutted it, the knife began to melt from the liquid flame running along its blade. Neil let it go before it harmed him and rolled away as the beastman fell to its knees, wheezing until it vomited up what looked to be putrid, bio-organic magma. Once he completed the roll, he uneasily got to his feet and took the gun back from Emmaline. "Thanks babe."

"Ok now, do your thing." She said, raising her hands toward him vaguely.

"My thing?"

"Yeah, the thing you were wanting to do with the silver bullet. Do it."

Neil held the gun up, shaking it. "Oh no, we should run. The silver bullet is in case we get caught in something and I want one to go down permanently."

"Oh," She said simply. They took one another's hand and sprinted away. Behind them, the Witch Hunter was dragged away by two halberdiers as the rest swarmed in, piercing the beastmen's flaming hides, butchering the main force slowly and methodically as only veteran soldiers could. Even still, dozens upon dozens of citizens littered the streets, mutilated and burned, and the beastmen moved with a brace that belied their savagery. More than a few dodged and slid their way through the guardsmen ranks and the outlying buildings.

Three followed Neil and Emmaline, seeing them as easy sport. One was unarmed, preferring to use its claws and fiery aura to slay its prey. The other two wielded swords that seemed strangely icy in quality compared to their wielders. They tried to remain quiet as they pursued, but their hoots and grunts were easily heard by the two crafty thieve, Neil turning the corner into a slim alley, thrown in disarray by overturned crates and broken wood from some previous altercation.

Neil pulled Emmaline along for twenty paces, hearing the beastmen hit the wall and bounce off it in animalistic pursuit.

"Neil!" She cried just as he spun around, leveling his pistol until his arm was parallel to the ground, steady. The monsters raced preternaturally fast, closing the distance quickly. Too quickly. But Neil simply waited the three breathes he needed to before he pulled the trigger, and the silver bullet punched through the lead one's sternum, cutting into the neck of the second one, before burying itself within the last, eating it from the inside out. They each breathed hoarsely and fell, one after the other until all lay on the ground, alighting the kindling of the alleyway in smoke and cinders.

[Penny]

"Well... that was pretty awesome," Emmaline admitted as the corpses of the beastmen shouldered. Horns began to blare as the city watch began to realize it was more than just high spirited rioters or the normal blackpowder week fires. Brassy horn blasts and bells were ringing and hungover guardsmen were staggering down the main thoroughfares towards the burning manor.

"Let's get out of here incase all these drunken guardsmen get ideas about pretty girls," Neil enjoined, grabbing her by the elbow and steering her towards the river. Another much louder bell began to ring, its deep tolling reverberating through Emmaline's bones. She assumed that it was just another alarm but Neil tensed up and froze.

"What?" Emmaline demanded. Neil continued pulling her down towards the river his body language tensed and troubled. They came out of the alley and down onto the waterfront. Out on the river there was chaos, ships were spreading their sales and heading down river. Downstream oared barges kicked up white spray as they beat their way down river. Even at this distance it was obvious that something was wrong. Emmaline could just make out men at the prows shouting through cupped hands, though it was impossible to make out what they were saying over the clamor from the city. One of the barges was burning and Emmaline watched flaming arrows leaped from the forested fringes of the river, striking one of the barges, it veered drunkenly away as men abandoned the oars to throw buckets of water onto smoldering blaze. Cannons on the wall barked out at unseen targets.

"What?!" Emmaline demanded, confused and exasperated. Winches began to turn at the entrances to the river, great metal chains raising to seal the river entrances.

"I think," Neil said glumly, "that we are under siege."

[POOHEAD189]

"Does this happen a lot in Wissenland?" Emmaline asked worriedly, looking around with a sheepish air as Neil showed the guard his identification. The gunnery college was bustling with activity, though it wasn't flooded just yet. It seemed as though the situation of the attack and entrenchment outside hadn't quite hit the normal populace yet. The guard allowed them admittance and opened the door. Neil grabbed Emmaline and hustled her in.

"No, of course not." The thief said with a disbelieving chuckle. His eyes didn't show the usual jovialness, he was at this time all business as they moved into the stone hallway. Though even when completely serious, there was a hint of mischief about Neil. The way he moved and the subtle emotions on his face made it seem as though nothing terrible was truly going to happen. Somehow, it was to be just another day. "And we need to figure out just what is going on so we know where to stay."

"Where to stay? Not at the tower?"

"We can stay there if we're dealing with beastmen or orks. Of course we'll have to board it up anyway, but I doubt they'll swim that far. If it's something a bit more civilized, they might have some boats and reach the island."

Neil turned into a corner room, just past a bust of what had to be a famous inventor, and pulled his girlfriend inside. He told her to shut the door, and once she turned around, she saw loads and loads of guns, cartridges, munitions, mixtures, and crates. Neil began filling a napsack with seemingly whatever he could find. "I need a new knife too," he mumbled quietly.

"Well considering we just saw fiery beastman melt people, I would say chaos." Emmaline Von Morganstern deducted, picking up a strange stick contraption out of sheer curiosity, like a miniature club more fit for throwing. Neil plucked it out of her hand and stuffed it in the bag. The two theives were cruelly interrupted as the door swung open, a red haired man in a green tunic under his apron swept his gaze across the room as if searching for something before whipping his eyes back to Neil and Emmaline, though his gaze fixed on the engineer.

"Neil? What the hell are you doing in here?" He asked suspiciously, then motioned to Emmaline, eyes falling to her breasts. "And who's she?"

"Just fetching supplies for Master Urthen. What are you doing in here?" He replied, not bothering to answer the query on Emmaline. Neil raised an eyebrow, suspicious all on his own.

"Grimmin needed a count of all our munitions..." The man asked, as if questioning his own actions. Neil shook his head and patted him on the shoulder.

"Good, then you can count now that I'm done so you've got accurate calculations." he remarked, swinging his bag onto his back and moving out of there, taking Emmaline by the hand yet again. "Come on, apprentice. Let's get these to Master Urthen. Be quick about it, Heinrich! We're under siege you know!"

[Penny]

As they exited the armory the gunnery school was a hive of activity. Men were running too and fro, carrying armfuls of weapons, parchments and the other minutia of modern war. It looked to Emmaline like a hive of pantalooned ants had been struck with a stick and that there was a much chaos as there was order to their frenzied activity. Despite their haste, the presence of a woman drew attention and more than one engineering apprentice ran into his fellows or tripped into one of the shallow trenches which crisscrossed the gunnery parks.

"Maybe we should try to get out of the city," Emmaline fretted her eyes following a well dressed apprentice who seemed to be sauntering rather than rushing.

"It's possible they haven't surrounded the city yet, we could take ship down river, I don't know if chaos spawn will be able to invest the city that fully," she rambled. The well dressed apprentice had reached the built up entrance to what she assumed was a magazine of some kind.

"Every single person in the city will be rushing the barges, we will be lucky if we..." Neil began but Emmaline's eyes suddenly locked on the handsome apprentice. He crouched down and took a lantern from his satchel. It was the kind with heavy glass panels to shield the flame from the wind.

"Neil..." the apprentice pitched the lantern into the doorway of the magazine. Emmaline lifted her hands and golden light sprang from her palms a moment before the ground humped up and an enormous concussive blast shattered the gunnery park. The apprentice was reduced to a mist as the granite blocks which had formed the firewall of the magazine blew outward like razor sharp glass. The blast struck Emmaline's glowing shield and picked the two thieves up, slamming them back into the armory in a tangle of arms and legs. Dust and smoke filled the air, blinding Emmaline and Neil. She could hear nothing other than a dull ringing. The golden light of her impromptu shield flickered and went out, the stunning force of the blast cracking the shield like an egg. Neil was already pressing himself to his feet, shaking his head as if to clear it. Emmaline followed suit woozily. Neil was speaking but Emmaline's ringing ears couldn't make out anything he was saying. She followed him out to what had been the gunnery park. A huge crater had been opened up against the south wall. Dirt and stone were still raining down. Several other members had survived judging by the screams of pain the slowly broke through the ringing in Emmaline's ears.

"What happened?" Emmaline asked, falling silent as one of the outbuildings groaned and collapsed in an avalanche of shattered red bricks. She had the memories of what happened by the shocking detonation seemed to have robbed her of the abillity to make sense of it. Neil layed a steadying hand on her shoulder.

"Someone just blew up three quarters of the cities gunpowder."

[POOHEAD189]

"What do we do!?" Emmaline gasped as she was pulled along.

"Nothing! I'm just glad we got our shit!" Neil cried as he hustled them out of there, even picking Emmaline up in a heroic scoop as he ran. Neil was fit, but it was still a strange sight seeing a slim man carrying a few dozen pounds of ordinance and his buxom girlfriend out of the smoke of a partially collapsed gunnery school. Neil just knew the authorities would be sweeping in soon and they would turn his misdemeanor into a felony now that the explosion had ruined much of the city's powder. The last of the stone had stopped falling or rolling, leaving cries of desperation and likely a few bodies to be picked at within the next hour.

A mile away, Neil finally let Emmaline down as gentlemanly as he could and heaved a lungful of air. Wearily he leaned against a wall just as cannons cracked and roared on the walls. A beggar ran across the now empty street, a bundle of carrots in his arms and a cat on his shoulder. Other than that fellow, Neil would have believed Nuln was deserted. Regaining himself, Neil hacked a small cough and began to jog again, looking back at Emmaline as she hustled to catch up. She seemed two parts fearful and one part uncomfortable with the exertion. He had to laugh quietly to himself. They were likely going to be inside for a long period of time, it was good to get her exercise, he thought to himself wryly.

They made it to the pier soon after, turning past the maelstrom of activity as barges were being commandeered for military service and others were being hastily roped up so they could flee before the authorities or chaos caught them. Luckily the longboat they took wasn't going to be in anyone's way or wake judging by the flow of the Aver. Neil and Emmaline found the longboat and leaped it, and though the engineer was constantly afraid some chaos spawned terror from beneath would rise up and snatch their veritable dingy, they made it over safe and sound.

Within the confines of their tower, Neil put his sack down and frantically began throwing things as he looked for tools and unused timber.

"Ok uh... you go up top and keep an eye out." He said, nabbing a hammer and slinging it into his belt loop. "See if you can see them from across the river, or if there's anything weird happening. I'll start boarding up everything so we don't have to worry about plunderers in the night."

[Penny]

Emmaline was still in something of a daze. The ringing in her ears had dissapated but the shock of what had just happened was still passing. Nodding numbly she climed to the top of the tower, exiting through the garret room at the top to the ancient watch platform. Stepping around fallen tiles she looked out over the river. A light wind was blowing the smoke away from the gunnery school, but the damage that had been down was tremendous. An entire corner of the complex had been scooped away by the blast as though by a giant spoon. Worse still, the force of the explosion had shattered the river wall and and the dark waters of the Reik had rushed in to fill the cavity, forming a brown lake where most of the gunnery park had been. Order was being brought to the chaos now, with workers and artisan's carrying away what could be salvaged. The gates were already been shut and barred, proving that Neil had been right suggest a hasty exit. While the crack of cannons was audible she couldn't, from her position, see what they were firing at. Judging from the gunsmoke rising over the distant rooftops, some kind of assault was underway on the eastern gate. Emmaline swallowed hard and turned her attention back to the river. A throng of Nuln's poor were swarming over the docks, jumping and clambering aboard barges and ships that were just as haistily trying to cast and fend off from the wooden and stone wharfs. One of the clumsy vessels was already in trouble, badly over loaded by the scores of people swarming aboard to escape the imminent siege. The starboard gunnel dipped alarmingly and then sank below the sluggish surface of the river. Water poured into open hatches and the roll accelerated as the barge capsized spilling goods and people into the Reik. Spatterings of gunfire errupted from a number of other vessels, as panicked sailors fired into the crowds to escape a similar fate. Some in the crowd fired back as the situation degenerated. As Emmaline watched a phalanx of city watch arrived on the scene lead by an armored man on horseback. They tore into the crowd with batons, heaving the mass of humanity down along the river bank and driving them away from the docks. The Watch was securing the ships which remained on the docks, probably as war material. That was quick thinking, especially as it had been less than an hour since the fiery destruction of the manor house had roused the city, apparently just in time to avoid a surprise attack. It didn't look like there was much chance of getting out by boat, even if the river was safe to travel downstream.

Emmaline's eyes swung back to the gunnery school and the eastern river. The water was glimmering with something and it took her several moments to realize that they were fish which had been killed by the blast. Cursing that most of her exercise was more horizontal she clambered back down the garret and rand down the stairs, skirts hiked up, ignoring Neil's shouted questions. She ran out onto the landing and down to the painter where Neil had tied the boat. Dipping her fingers in the water she whispered a spell. A gentle current began to flow towards her fingers and slowly the floating fish, stunned or dead began to drift towards the island. Within ten minutes the southern shore was covered with fish and the assorted floatsam that normally choked the river. Cringing inwardly but cognisatnt that food would be worth more than gold if a seige lasted, she began picking up fish and tossing them into the boat, the only available container she had. It took her perhaps a half an hour but by the time she had cleared the beach the boat was almost overflowing with fish. Sweating with exertion she sat heavily upon the flagstones near the shore and huffed out a breath. It was all together too much like real work for her taste. Inwardly she wondered how long it would be before the watch, or the army came to occupy the tower and evicted them.

[POOHEAD189]

Neil blinked in surprise when Emmaline walked over with a huge, curved basket filled with dead fish. They didn't smell like flowers, but they hadn't yet started to truly stink as of yet. He had let her in through the left side of the double door entrance, having already plugged up the right one. He had done a remarkable amount of work in a short amount of time. It seemed Neil's time as an engineer helped him be generally competent with tools, either that or he had a background in carpentry or construction. He had stopped hammering a nail on the carefully laid boards along the only two windows below and tilted his head, much like a confused dog.

"Babe, we've still got plenty of food but..." He began, before he realized that they would need all the sustenance they could get over the next few months. He shrugged, smiling at her. There was something close to love in his eyes. "Guess we're having fish tonight." He walked over to help her carry it, unburdening her with the weight and carrying it over to the casks and barrels. He stepped over a pile of timber he had procured from the small basement below nimbly, but he jerked to the side, two fish plopping onto the stone heavily. There had been a voice behind them.

From outside.

Emmaline made a gesture that he assumed was arcane. Neil put the basket down, dropped the two fish back into the basket, and grabbed the hochland rifle leaning against one of the utility shelves.

"Bar the door," he told her, placing his left hand on the barrel as he hustled up stairs, racing to the second floor and the lower balcony. He and Emmaline were usually at the top floor where the bed was, but this room too had a fireplace and a few lumpy chairs, though it was more or less abandoned, with cupboards tossed to their sides and a broken desk left on the floor. Neil nearly tripped over it but caught himself with a small jump and made it to the balcony, opening the door and placing his hochland rifle on the balustrade.

Before him was a man, wearing a nondescript coat and a wide brimmed hat, but he held no weapons or showed any sign of movement or surprise. He wasn't the witch hunter they had seen the last few weeks, but he did bear a brooch of some considerable worth, and Neil thought he spied a sigil on there he didn't recognize. The twin comets were easy to identify, but the fiery heart was not. Neil made sure to aim left of it, at his heart.

They waited there, seemingly at an impass for a few moments. Neil decided he was too curious to play that game.

"Hi, can you state your name, please?"

"Neil Edwards," He said, making the thief rock back on his heels. Neil took a moment, then made a 'hm' sound from deep in his throat.

"Interesting, are we related?"

"You are Neil Edwards." He said, and Neil saw he bore a pair of spectacles on his face, resting on his robust nose. "Formerly an engineering apprentice, recently pronounced dead and resurrected, graduate of the gunnery college, and known criminal. I am Inspector Leizbauhnor. We have been watching you for some time."

"Well, Inspector, you're not making a good case for why I shouldn't shoot you, just in case you were wondering." He said, matter-of-fact. Neil was now intensely curious, but he meant it. If people were following him, his first instinct was to eliminate any and all who were doing it. He then realized how very dark that was, but he guessed he had a criminal girlfriend to take care of now. "What is it exactly that you want?"

"Just your cooperation in acquiring some goods for the order. You wouldn't want Heinriech to find out miss Von Morganstern could be a potential apostate, nor would you want to be evicted from your...home?" He asked, then chuckled. The inspector raised an eyebrow as he appraised the makeshift structure. "You do realize people were going to show up eventually to use it again, right?"

"I was planning on being gone by the summer." Neil replied, reiterating the man's proposal in his head. "Are you saying we could stay here legally?"

"Not strictly, but we won't bother you and make sure no one else does, either."

Neil was certain this inspector and his bureau or whomever, wasn't as omnipresent as he would have liked Neil to believe. He likely had a few well trained men or women posted in certain areas to give back information on his whereabouts and likely was only privvy to Neil's vagueries. But even that was a bit much for Neil, and the young man sighed.

"Why do you need me? Aren't you busy with rooting out those Chaos weirdos?"

"We need you because we need a criminal or two, to help us out in rooting out another. And we need it to help with the 'Chaos weirdos.'" He said, and laid out his terms. Neil had to go downstairs and tell Emmaline that tomorrow they would steal some stolen gunpowder back from one of Nuln's syndicates.

[Penny]

Emmaline was not at all certain that Neil had made the right decision in not shooting Inspector Leizbauhnor. That worthy was seated at what passed for the dining table, a set of old gun carriage wheels laid on their side with planks nailed over the top, sipping at a glass of the indifferent whine Neil had produced. A fish rose into the air and fileted itself, the waste dropping into one bucket and the meat settling into another. If Leizbauhnor was impressed or intimidated by the display of arcane power he was doing a good job of concealing it. A second fish rose into the air and followed the example of the first.

"Under normal circumstances we might not have noticed the theft for some weeks," Leizbauhnor explained, sipping at the wine politely.

"A lot of powder is used up during blackpowder week and it would have been easy to assume that it was just moved or in transit," Leizbauhnor went on.

"We had an idea that something was afoot but it wasn't until the... accident at the gunnery school that we were sure," the Inspector lamented. The fish continued their self fileting, the process growing a trifle more violent with Emmaline's irritation, scales flying off in glittering arcs.

"Something like twenty tons of the stuff vanished between the powder mills and the storage magazines, most of a months supply for the city." Nuln was the arsenal for the entire Empire and though every city worth its saltpeter maintained at least a small powder mill, it was the shipments that flowed up and down the Reik and Aver rivers that kept up with the demand for an Empire whose security rested on handguns and cannons as surely as pikes and swords.

"Someone stole twenty tons of gunpowder?" Neil asked, arching an eyebrow. He sat across from Leizbauhnor, having reversed the chair so that he could straddle it with his chest to the chair back. If their visitor was irritated by the deliberate lack of respect he was showing no sign of it. From the tone of Neil's voice he was more impressed than shocked.

"I wish I had thought of it," Emmaline murmured, eyes still intent on the destruction of her catch. Leizbauhnor forced a tolerant smile.

"It did cross my mind that the theft occurred shortly after one Marguritte von Vissenbach made the acquaintance of a certain member of the Engineers guild we had our eye on, but we were able to rule the pair of you out. Albrecht Magnus has been associated with a number of questionable deals, but a theft of this size, well it requires more than salting a mine with a bit of gold dust or pretending to discover an heir to a lost fortune." Emmaline stiffened slightly, taking the bait in spite of herself.

"Both of those require more work than 'simply' doing anything," she snapped, magically gutting another fish in emphasis. The creatures eyes popped and its back snapped as her control wavered slightly with rising irritation.

"I'm sure you know better than I," Leizbauhnor rejoined dryly, "but the point I was making is that something like this takes logistics. It requires storage, time and patience to find a buyer and fence the take. I'm not attempting to be insulting Frauline Von Morganstern, but you simply don't have that kind of organization."

"You seem to know a lot, why do you need us?" Emmaline asked. Leizbauhnor sighed heavily.

"You may have noticed that the city has its share of problems to deal with at this moment," he said dryly.

"Figuring out which syndicate did this, and where the goods are stored may be a challenge, it will require subject matter experts on crime and gunpowder, and lo and behold I happen to know a crooked engineering apprentice and a...."

"Engineer," Neil interuppted impudently. Leizbauhnor arched an eyebrow in interogation.

"I've graduated, I'm an Engineer now, not an apprentice," the thie continued glibly. Leizbauhnor heaved a put upon sigh.

"A crooked engineer and a gold wizard who are perfect for the job, and who, frankly, don't have much choice other than to do their patriotic duty."

[POOHEAD189]

It had begun to snow. One of the last bits of snow before the new spring arrived. Neil would have loved it if he and Emmaline were holed up in their tower, but as it were, they were now a few blocks away from the docks, waiting out in the cold for Neil's contact to arrive. He never actually thought he would need to hail Stedder as a 'contact' rather than an drinking buddy and partial acquaintence, but here he was...

Luckily they were prepared for the cold, Neil sporting his jacket and Emmaline wrapped in a fur coat, one of the few things she had kept from her tenure as the Lady Marguritte von Vissenbach. Still, it only made the chill bearable, not comfortable. Neil saw her squirming within to get warm and he pulled her close to him, hearing her murmur in complaint.

"Don't worry, we'll be inside eating fish in no time," He told her, playfully bumping her hip with his. "Besides, this is something that needs doing."

"Didn't know you were such a Wissenland sympathizer," she joked, snuggling closer to him. It made them both warmer and more comfortable, at least for the moment. Neil blinked against the blistering wind, the day overcast, the sky grey and forlorn. If he were a bit more superstitious, he would have thought this sudden winterstorm was brought on by something daemonic. Luckily, he wasn't very superstitious, just normally-stitious.

"I'm not, love. But if this city falls, we probably will too. I'd rather they have guns to use, yeah?"

The wall opened.

It was a door of course, but it was made very much to look like a wall. Neil had known it was there, but there was another door opposite Emmaline might have thought they were waiting on. Either way, a wide faced man with the hair and mutton chops of a wild animal waved them inside. Neil and Emmaline hustled in, the spacious building, that at first glance looked to be just an entrance into a building full of apartments and business, was actually one huge floor with only a few doors leading to other, likely smaller rooms. It looked like the central room they were in was some sort of workshop for thieves. Ropes, bolts, knives, as many pieces of equipment as one might manage was set up and laid out as if for sale or display. There were a few chairs to sit in, and two Dwarfs rifled around, carrying sacks of what was likely contraband and moving supplies from point a to b.

"You've picked a hell of a time to see me, Neil. I'm about to be busy as hell when shit hits the fan," Stedder said, pulling at his collar, glancing at the Dwarfs. They looked like brothers, brown bearded and wearing matching outfits. "At least, I think. You never know in a siege. And who the hell is-"

Emmaline gently pulled her hood off of her face, and the man blanched like Neil had just brought in a cultist of tzeentch. He pulled Neil aside, but still so close Emmaline could hear regardless. "You brought a woman into my headquarters!?"

"This woman can outthief most cock-havers in the city, numbnuts." Neil replied, poking him in the chest with his finger. "She's a thief too, and I want information. Tell me where the gunpowder was stolen and by who, or I'll have to tell a few inspectors about your little outfit here."

[Penny]

Stedder sucked his gums against his teeth and stepped back. He was dressed in what had once been a fine coat, though it was a little too tight for him and the oils from his neck had crusted the pristine white of the collar. The gnatty wescoat was somewhat spoiled by what appeared to be a pair of knife holes in the back.

"Tits and thievery are too great flavors that don't go great together," Stedder groused, turning to lead them to a corner where a trio of chairs sat around an upended ale barrel which served as a table. A none too clean linen cloth was spread across the top scattered with a handful of what looked to be small rubies and a gem cutters ocular in dented brass. Stedder folded it expertly and stuffed it into his tunic, shooting Neil a suspicious look as he did so.

"Man can't think clearly if he is using the smaller of his heads," Steeder continued, taking a seat with his back to the warehouse wall.

"One man's opinion," Emmaline replied with a droll smile. She took a seat on a three legged stool as Neil slid into the remaining chair. Without obvious summons a boy of perhaps ten years appeared carrying three tankards of foaming ale. He set one down infront of each guest with practiced aplomb. As he set down Emmaline's her hand shot out and seized his wrist. The boy yelped and tried to pull way but without success. She forced his hand open and retrieved the leather coin purse he had lifted from beneath her cloak and tucked it back into its pocket. The white linen of the gem rag was just visible at the cuff of the boy's frayed jacket but Emmaline figured that was Stedder's problem and let go of the squirming child.

"Tibs what have I told you about stealing from the guests?" Stedder demanded without particular animus.

"Not to get caught?" the boy stuck in impudently, running a finger though his mop of brown hair.

"Right, now bugger off we have business," Stedder continued, turning his gaze back to Neil and Emmaline. The kid vanished as quickly as he had appeared, taking the rubies with him.

"Apologies," Stedder grunted, taking a gulp of ale that left a foamy residue across his upper lip. He let out a satisfied belch and then wiped it away with his sleeve. Emmaline took a somewhat more decorous sip and found the ale to be creamier and less bitter than was the taste in Altdorf.

"Things are a bit unsettled here with the siege and all, one of these splinter groups filtering through the Drakwald and picking up every beastman and mutant they can find. With most of the armies still in the north there isn't much to check them," Stedder lamented. Emmaline avoided rolling her eyes. Every tavern, and apparently thieves den, had someone who was willing to play armchair Reikmarshall at any opportunity. Fortunately Neil didn't pick up on the comment to invite any discussion, letting the silence hang for a moment.

"You mentioned blackmailing me for information?" Stedder asked, apparently having concluded the social niceties.

[POOHEAD189]

"Well, I mean, I got blackmailed and I figure you'd want to be next in line," Neil said, shrugging. Stedder was a reasonable man, but he wasn't a very trusting one, even to someone as generally harmless as the 'thieving moonlighter' Neil. Tibs opened a door in the back and moved as stealthily as one could in stark eyesight, and Neil realized he was trying not to bother Stedder rather than be unseen by the unexpected guests. Neil wondered just how long Stedder would keep this kid around. Neil got into the thieving business by necessity, though admittedly, he learned to love it very quickly. He wondered when this kid would make the choice to make it a life or not.

"Well I appreciate it, but I don't appreciate it." Stedder said back with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Neil didn't blink at the facetious comment.

"I'm serious, Sted." Neil admitted apologetically. "I guess I could maybe offer you some...fish? We got a lot of that. I can offer you information on a certain inspector that's been snooping around. But at the end of the day, either you help me or I help him with you." Stedder opened his mouth, moving his hands as if to get a better position on his chair when he heard the telltale 'click' of Neil's pistol from behind the jacket he had taken off and placed in his lap. Stedder gave him a look that seemed half warning, half surprise. Neil raised his brows. He wasn't going to take a chance. "Wouldn't you just rather me pay you?"

Stedder's face was unreadable. He only glanced at Emmaline once, but otherwise just kept his eyes on Neil until he relaxed a long, drawn out second later. "Ok, I can see something's pushing you. You wouldn't do this, otherwise." Neil nodded, and Stedder sighed. "Ok, what do you want to know?"

"You're familiar with the gunnery college explosion, right?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah. There was a shipment of twenty tons of black powder from the Grey Mountains that disappeared a fortnight ago before the siege. It disappeared in the city." He could really use a drink, come to think of it. He loved discussing future business. Neil, however, didn't bandy words. "Where is it?"

Stedder blinked, incredulous. He looked around, as if he was being duped. "Are you serious? I'll help you with that, Sigmar's balls." Stedder laughed, shaking his head. Neil even heard a bit of his native Middenland accent in it. At Neil and Emmaline's confusion, he clarified. "I'm pretty sure it was taken by cultists, and not the well-to-do sigmarite kind."

"What?" Neil started, taken aback. "Why didn't- oh yeah." The cogs were practically moving visibly in his charming little head.

"They're in a barge. One of the ones commandeered by the countess."

"Hold on, wait. Let me guess." Neil started. "The barge came into the port and signed in as a gunpowder shipment. Since it's black powder week, they kept it on board to keep it from being mixed with the experimental ordinance. When the siege happened, they had a crooked guard-"

"Two."

"-Two crooked guards," Neil corrected, holding up two fingers. "To commandeer the vessel, kill the dockmaster in the confusion, declare the barge held other goods, and now in order to steal it, it's guarded by the very government that needs the goddamn blackpowder from right under its nose?"

Stedder's nod had Neil laughing. "Fuck!"

[Penny]

"What do cultists want with a barge of gunpowder?" Emmaline asked, an uneasy feeling settling into the pit of her stomach. Stedder snorted with an audible range that was almost poetic in the emotions it conveyed.

"They want to put on a show for Karl Franz' birthday? How the bleeding hells should I know woman?" Stedder demanded. Emmaline chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully.

"You obviously didn't think to tell anyone about the theft before now?" Emmaline said, a touch exasperated, even though she knew it wasn't the thiefs fault that an Inspector was blackmailing them. Stedder's eyes buldged.

"Sigmar's cock woman, I said I THOUGHT it was cultists, you know what would happen to me if I went squealing to the watch and it turned out to be the Saltzhiemer's or one of the other criminal families? They'd pull my balls out through my throat just for starters!" Emmaline held up both hands in a placating gesture, it probably had been little more than a suspicion before the forces of chaos showed up to fit the pieces of the puzzle together.

"I thought they already grounded all the barges," she mused, remembering the mob scenes she had witnessed from the tower earlier in the day. Stedder made an equivocal guesture with his hand.

"Grounded is a bit of a stretch, most of the shipping is in Tar Pool for the duration though, taverns and brothels there abouts are overrun with out of work bargemen, slim pickings in thier pockets let me tell you. Most of 'em got turfed without even their pay," Stedder continued mournfully, his upset at the injustice of merchant captains directly related to the tragedy of so many marks with empty purses.

"Tar Pool?" she asked.

"Its the downstream docks," Neil explained, "near the western river gates." There was a momentary mutual silence. Neil leaped to his feet a half second before Emmaline and Stedder, all three of them overturning their chairs with a clatter that drew all eyes. The all started talking at once, conveying with varying levels of profanity, that a barge loaded to the deck heads with gunpowder was now moored within a hundred yards of the sparsely defended western walls while beast men threw themselves oh so continently at the eastern ramparts.

[POOHEAD189]

It stunk of fish. Dead fish.

Neil crouched under the stone embankment, the air chilled and the fog rolling in like a wraith coming to claim the souls of Nuln. The water was dark, and other than the occasional call from the guard, it was the only thing that made any sound, lapping rhythmically mere paces from his feet. Neil clutched his newly acquired sidesword, a relatively short weapon he'd convinced Stedder to 'lend' him. He hoped he didn't have to use it, but he knew he would unless Sigmar shined upon them, or Ranald thought they deserved some luck.

Maybe the Chaos Gods had a bit more rein over the city on this day, but he pushed that thought out of his mind. Neil turned to Emmaline, the woman crouched with him, sporting trousers and a blouse under her thick coat, looking behind them to make sure no one would come up and knife them in the back. Gods, she was beautiful, in more ways than physical. Though if they survived this, he'd make sure he would warm her up nicely in the tower.

His pistol within his jacket and his sword at his hip, he nodded to her. The plan was simple. Sneak on board, beat, kill, or threaten anyone who noticed them, and untether the barge to sail it away. It didn't matter where, just away from the guards. Neil had known immediately the subterfuge would not last, so he left a sealed letter to Master Gunter, to be opened if he heard Neil got into any trouble. He expected Inspector Leizbauhnor to uphold his word and keep them safe from the law (as long as Neil and Emmaline didn't try and deviate from the plan) if only because he could use them again, but Neil wasn't going to take any chances. A scandal with the Inquisition would only harm the besieged.

As the fog rolled in, Neil saw the target obscured, which meant he and Emmaline were as well. He stood up and helped her to her feet, winking and stepping over the lip of the wall toward three mountains of crates, hugging the obstacles to keep from being spotted by any guardsman that might be wandering away from the vessel. According to Stedder, there were three guards on deck at any one time, but that didn't mean more were not below.

[Penny]

It would have been unusual under normal circumstances for this section of the city to be so quiet. Normally stevedores and bargemen would be carousing in the alehouse and knocking shops that surrounded even the secondary harbor. With the siege entering its first full day, the city watch had been out in force enforcing a curfew at areas close to the wall. The pool itself held twice its normal volume of barges. There were big timber carriers from Middenland, grain and wine barges from the Reik and even a few pleasure craft of the idle rich. The river slapped their hulls with gentle rythmic sloshing and the lines tethering them to the wharves creaked and groaned. Emmaline had argued that this was a matter for the city watch, the army, the Templars of Sigmar and basically anyone who wasn't blond, buxom and indolent. Neil was not without sympathy for the shapelier parts of this argument, but had pointed out that if the city watch rushed the barge the most likely result was that the cultists would blow the powder right here in the pool. That probably wouldn't breach the wall, but it would demolish everything within several blocks of the docks and start fires. That still wouldn't have convinced Emmaline, but Neil was also sure that Leizbauhnor would happily throw them under the proverbial ox cart rather than take responsibility for such a disaster himself.

"Which barge is it," Neil whispered as they approached the waterfront, taking cover amidst a pile of netting that normally served to swing cargo out to the barges. Emmaline clambered up beside him. This was not her kind of thievery, but she had done enough creeping to not be a complete novice. The barges were much of muchness to her eye, but fortunately all wizards, even lazy apprentices had a natural abillity to see magic. Emmaline opened her 'eye' with a minor effort of will. The golden wind, Charmon, flowed strongly in Nuln. Pulsing rivers of it thundered around the artillery works an the gunnery school, spilling smaller more slugish current out over the rest of the city. The barges themselves were mostly dark save for where some product of alchemy, a lantern or a spy glass, attracted the wind. One barge, at the far end of the dock was different. Charmon and the other winds coiled and flittered around it, tangled together in an untidy mass which reminded Emmaline of drawings she had seen of tumors. She could just make out some men on the deck, covered with heavy ponchos against the chill of the evening. Hastily she released her sight.

"It is that one," she told Neil, extending a finger to indicate the barge which, now looked as innocent as the rest. They crept down the quay darting between crates and other cover until they were close enough to hear the conversation of the men on deck. One of them sounded like an Altdorf docker, the other had the harsh guttural cadence that Emmaline associated with Norsca. Neil led the way down between the wharves and onto the slimey pebbled beach beneath the wharf.

"Like this," he whispered and climbed onto the riders that ran beneath the wharf. Emmaline watched him dubiously for a moment and then did the same, following his lead as he eased himself from pylon to pylon beneath the wharf. By the time they reached the barge Emmaline's arms were complaining in no uncertain terms. Neil paused when he reached the curve of the barges hull and climbed onto a net which hung down over the side. Emmaline joined him and a moment later they were over the side and on the deck. The barge was open to the sky, its hold stacked high with barrels of what could only be gunpowder. The steering house was towards the stern where the two guards continued their conversation, interrupted only occasionally by the clatter of dice.

[POOHEAD189]

Neil had done this more than once. The quay's of Marienburg were packed with ships, ocean-going and fresh water and filled with loot. Neil could tell the net he clambered up was just for show. He wanted to say it was some chaos plot, but likely whoever owned the boat before their untimely demise transported people more than goods and wanted to give off the 'authentic' reik feel of a humble fishing vessel. That wasn't hard to figure out. The harder thing would be how to proceed once they were top side.

Neil stopped near the lip of the barge, Emmaline following and bumping her blonde head into the heel of his boot.

"Ow," she whispered a bit too loudly, reaching for her head and glancing up, bemused.

Neil sucked in a breath and held it, hesitating before holding out a hand to keep Emmaline quiet. She plugged her mouth shut with a hand, and in moments it was clear footsteps were passing them by. Neil knew if it hadn't been for the lapping of the water, she would have been heard. As it was, the creaks of the deck boards continued from right to left until they receded into nothingness moments later. Neil let out a relieved breath, motioned her to wait, and then slowly ascended until he peeked his head over the top of the railing.

He had the fright of his life when his vision was filled with the visage of a gap-toothed Norscan smiling like a crocodile. Neil moved in a purely reactionary manner. He didn't have his gun or his sword, and the man was too big to punch and do much more damage than making him pissed off, and the corrupt guard likely didn't react because he had expected Neil to cry out. Instead, Neil grabbed him by his head and yanked, slamming his forehead into the railing with the sudden force of a hammer.

Ranald took away, but Ranald also giveth. It was nothing short of divine inspiration, and the Norscan slipped into unconsciousness with barely a groan, clumsily hitting the deck. Neil held his mouth opened in surprise, and he looked down to see Emmaline was equally surprised and maybe impressed at the quick thinking? Either way, it was lucky. Within a minute, Neil had helped Emmaline on board and had tossed the heavy man overboard to drown. It was heartless, but he was either a thug that would have killed him, or a bleeding Chaos sympathizer.

"That takes care of one of the two guards," Emmaline whispered, glancing behind them.

"Let's just get below and hope we don't find the other one until we find the powder." Neil remarked, nodding for her to follow. He had never been on this ship, but he knew the rough layout of most river barges. Two doors down was a central door that led to the second floor. Neil crept along the outerlying edge of the ship, Emmaline behind him and staying quieter than she had on the net. Neil peeked through the corner, seeing the ass end of a man walking out of his vision. Neil waited another few moments before he opened the door. When Emmaline followed him in, Neil took a step down the stairway and unsheathed his sidesword.

"Let's be careful" he said, entirely unconvinced.

[Penny]

Gunpowder had a certain smell to it, metallic and biting in Emmaline's nose. Although it wasn't a familiar scent to her, most gunpowder she had encountered being in the reeking post combustion form, the alchemical nature of it was oddly calming. The interior or the barge reeked of it, the scent oozing from the hundreds of barrels packed in the hold. Emmaline ran her hand over one of the casks that was packed tightly into the hold. The leaden seal of the manufacturers were still in place, for all the world as though the barge were on its way to Altdorf or some other port. Emmaline followed along behind Neil, mightily impressed by how he had dealt with the Norscan.

"Well we have found the powder," Emmaline observed soto voche.

"Yes congratulations," a voice drawled behind them. Emmaline and Neil whirled to find a slender looking man in middle age standing at the passage between one of the bulkheads. He was an unremarkable looking fellow, save for the fact that he was shirtless. That wasn't a good look for his gaunt and unimpressive frame, but strange growths covering his chest formed a stigmata of the ruinous powers. Emmaline was between Neil and the cultist and she turned and began to surptitously shift to the side.

"Thanks," she said evenly, thinking to give Neil a clear shot with his pistol.

"Surrender," the cultist demanded, raising a hand. The air shimmered with magic as a barrier of some sort rose between them, a bluish patch of disrupted air.

"Very well, we accept," Emmaline declared, "we will escort you to the Cathedral of Sigmar for..."

"Silence!" the apparent sorcerer roared, raising his other hand, purplish fire gathering around it. Neil's pistol cracked behind her and the shield flashed as it deflected the ball like a ceiling tile batting away hail.

"Weaklings!" the sorcerer laughed, raising his fist. Neil grabbed Emmaline by the belt and hauled her around the corner a heartbeat ahead of a blast of purplish energy that shattered the bulkhead to kindling. Emmaline stumbled backwards and raised her own hand, chanting rapidly. Deck nails began to rip themselves out of the floor, floating into the air and gathering like ferrous bees before streaking down the hallway in an angry cloud. The sorcerer yelped in surprise although the cuts and scrapes were hardly likely to be lethal. Emmaline turned and ran, bolting past Neil and up a companion way onto the deck. She crashed into the remaining guard at full speed, knocking him to the ground and careening away from the impact. She swept up a boarding axe and chopped through the painter cables with two swift hacks.

"Get away from there you bitch!" the watchman yelled, but the current of the Reik was already drawing the barge away from the dock and out into the river.

[POOHEAD189]

"Emma!" He cried out, as loud as he dared. All subterfuge was likely out the window, but even so, it was best to take out a few people at a time rather than have the whole barge converge on them. He holstered his pistol, strafing to the left as the sorcerer reared back up, bloodied but alive. Scores of cuts had bloomed across his body, and even his left eye was cut in a way that made Neil want to retch. Eyeballs don't bleed, but they got something in them, apparently. Instead of shooting the sorcerer as was his want, Neil decided to crouch in a readied position.

He was never the killing type. Neil was quick to pick your pocket or leap into the bed of a girl, but when it came to killing, he never got used to it unless he felt it was deserved. But he had to learn all the same if he had wanted to survive Marienburg, and so his crouch was practiced, taught. His left hand out, his right hand gripping the sword, blade ready to strike like a snake. His feet were slightly past shoulder width apart, able to spring in any direction if need be. The sorcerer was likely more dangerous than three of him, but he was overconfident and angry. It made his movements, eldritch though they were, predictable.

Had he begun chanting, Neil would have darted at him like a wolf on the hunt. Instead, he snarled and waved his hand in an arc meant to hit the largest area it could across the room. Neil saw it, and though the purplish darkness of raw chaos coalesced in his hand and expanded out like the chaos wastes themselves, Neil kept his cool and leaped, pulling his leg up and over to send his body in a 'butterfly kick' as the Cathayans say (or so he heard) and landed just in front of the sorcerer, out of juice and options. He blinked, his scraggly hair and dead eyes dropped from confusion over Neil not being obliterated. The thief slid his sword point into his neck so deeply and cleanly, the thrust nearly decapitated him.

He would examine his work, but the girl he was quickly realizing was the love of his life was screaming topside, so he stepped over the corpse, ignoring the crablike legs that had protruded from his neck. The body didn't get up, like as not it had some strange tzeentchian thing within him. Either way, Neil clambered up the stairs just in time to see the guard that was just about to get up. Neil kicked him in the head, but he missed and hit him with the lower part of his leg.

"Fuck!" Neil cried, stumbling and reeling, catching himself on the wall as the blunt pain cascaded through him. Either way, as much as it hurt the younger man, the guard was hit and fell back. Neil hopped twice on his opposite foot, catching sight of Emmaline as she dropped the axe. They both brightened when they saw one another. Neil hopped over to her, but another man came running, a cudgel with nails in it clutched in his meaty hand.

"I'd kiss you, but I need to fight him first." He told her reluctantly.

[Penny]

"I don't think..." Emmaline began, pulling a belaying pin free and swinging it at the onrushing thug in a graceless arc. The cultist lashed out with his cudgel, luckily for the young wizard her blow had brought her enough time to stumble back out of the way, tripping on a coil of rope line and falling on her bottom. The thug was wide eyed, all but frothing at the mouth, but he had enough combat sense to turn to meet Neil before he was blind sided. Emmaline scrambled to her feet and backed to the gunnel of the barge. By now the sluggish but powerful current had pulled the barge out into midstream. If Emmaline were a heroine in a Detlef Sierck play this would be the moment where she thrust a flaming torch into the powder and heroically sacrificed herself to save the city. Touching the powder off here would spare the docks, and the walls the cultists meant to breach. Emmaline wasn't averse to being heroic, but not at the cost of her own precious skin.

"We've got to..." the deck exploded as something bloodslicked and chitionous smashed it's way up with a shower of splinters that knocked Neil and his attacker off their feet. The thing looked to be about the size of a bull, although most of that was in legs and the ruined corpse it seemed to sprout from. A tower was starting to look like a bargain for Leizbauhnor. The thing clacked to mandible which seemed somehow lodged in it's hosts legs, clapping the dead sorceress heels together in a disgusting parody of a dance.

"Uhhh," Emmaline gibbered, now utterly unsure what they had to do. Her little swarm of nails continued to sting at the thing without noticeable effect. Blowing the thing up seemed like the best option, but doing so would probably be lethal for Emmaline and, less importantly, might doom the city if the defenders ran out of powder. Worse still in a few minutes they would be close to the river gate, close enough that blowing the barge might breach the western walls opening the way for the beastmen that doubtlessly lurked for such an opportunity. The beast reared up and Emmaline lifted her hand, golden light in the shape of Sigmar's hammer blazed forth. The beast flinched back violently as though struck a blow before it realized it was trickery and Emmaline was far too wordly to use faith as a weapon.

"I need a minute!" she shouted to Neil and then bolted below deck as fast as her heaving lungs could carry her.

[POOHEAD189]

"A minute!?" Neil shouted, eyes bulging at Emmaline's departure. For a split second, he thought the terror of the situation was too much and she had left him. Not that he would have blamed her; many women (and men) would have done the same. But he knew better, and as she went down the stairs, he decided he would trust her with his life. She had done that for him multiple times now.

The insectoid monstrosity was going to be a problem, though. Neil had never really seen something like it before. Chaos wasn't a very well-seen thing in Marienburg, nor was it usually in Nuln or Wissenland. The beastmen were one thing, the fire another, but this was something entirely above his paygrade. Well, he never was one to stay in his lane, he thought.

Mandibles clacking, it half slithered, half crawled along the barge deck. It was the size of a troll, but it snaked around with serpentine fluidity. Neil blinked and leaned back when he saw the malevolence in its eyes. He backstepped, sword out in front as beads of sweat began to perspire on his forehead. That thing wasn't going to just eat him. It was going to take his soul straight back to the wastes to be used as a plaything for all eternity. It was a concept he couldn't wrap his head around, but he could at least recognize that was a very bad thing.

It reared up and struck, controlled and deadly. Neil kept his sword out, but the sharp blade ran along its skin as if hitting an iron breastplate. One of the scales had some give, but afterwards he recognized all it was, was the blade finding a nook to slip between the two scales. He didn't know if there had been meat in there, but he was too busy leaping for his life as the maw snapped at him. It bit so close, it tore his shirt. Had its teeth not been so sharp, it would have tugged him in, but it merely ripped the front of his shirt off, cutting him across the chest with its mandible.

Neil stabbed at its eye, and though it missed it center mass, it hit where the nasolacrimal duct would be on a human. It poked in, but only a few inches. Neil saw it shudder in anger and pain, but he wasn't sticking around to celebrate. He bounded away like a frightened doe and dodged into one of the passages in the barge. The thing slithered after him, breaking wooden planks with every sharpened leg. Neil ran through an open-air corridor and ran passed the woozy guard, just getting back up from getting kicked. Neil heard him scream behind him, and he heard the scream abruptly stop and a warm, fleshy 'glurb' before the thing continued after him.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!"