Topic: A Wedding in Wissenland

[S.O.F]

Loads of Characters in Sonneforte already....remember though the early bird may get the worm but the second mouse gets the cheese........

[Derek Contyre]

Loads of Characters in Sonneforte already....remember though the early bird may get the worm but the second mouse gets the cheese........

Hehehe, we have to start keeping track soon for I may well start going insane  .


Derek looked into the Oak box again, only one other item remained, and it would be sealed for the day of the ball when it could be placed in the hands of the Baroness herself.
The dagger caught his eye and he picked it up and looked over it once again. His gift to Graff Bieter was a princely one, but it was nothing to the significance of one warrior giving another a weapon of such craftsmanship, especially in the northern provinces, where weapons were looked to first before gold and jewels.
'This will never leave my belt.' Derek thought to himself.

Captain Dietrich Hemmler walked through the streets of Sonnefurt at a leisurely pace, his armour polished to a fine sheen and the heraldry on his jacket proudly displaying his dukes colours. People stared as he passed, but he minded them not, for his dispatch work for Contyre was done and he had some small coin left from last months pay and intended to use it downing some wine in Gilles wine bar or even one of the fightier taverns for some excellent dwarf made beer.
As he crossed out of the merchants quarter into Sonnefurt hill, he was jostled from behind by a man rushing towards the Upper river side. Immediately checking for his coin purse, which was still there, Dietrich followed the man with his eyes as he rushed through the thoroughfare, knocking people aside and pushing them almost out of his way.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up and a chill went right down his spine, looking back towards Sonnefurt Hill, he could even see Gilles' Bar, could smell the wine on the air beckoning him...
"Argh! Morr take them all!" He cursed before shouldering his way through the press of people after his quarry...

Derek and his guard of five walked calmly through the streets of the Merchant Quarter towards the town house that held his rival and dinner host Graff Johann Bieter, the Graff's soldiers watched him approach sternly, though they relaxed upon recognition of the dinner guest.
The clothes the Duke wore were of the latest fashion in Altdorf, a puffed and slashed doublet and hose with a jerkin and his red woollen cloak over the top of a slashed gown, the outer colours a light blue while the inner colours showing  a nice rich yellow, his black Beret with one solitary white feather kept his shoulder length hair neat. Overall it was a colourful display that somehow managed to not be a rainbow.
At his waist he had the newly acquired dagger in a new sheath and on his left side a long two handed sword of exquisite design, gold hilted with skulls at either end and on the pommel. At the top of the hilt in the middle of the cross guard was a large cut ruby of incredible workmanship and, chiselled ever so carefully into the handle two Dwarfen runes of power that gave the blade its name.

As the group grew nearer one of the guards raised his hand;
"Halt! Are you expected?" Derek nodded, "I am the Duke of Nueremburg and Baron of Nuestaat, Derek Contyre, and your lord is expecting me."
The guard nodded and lowered his hand.
"I am sorry your Grace, but no weapons are permitted inside, the rumours of banditry are all too evident here." Derek smiled.
"I am sorry soldier, this sword," indicating his two handed greatsword, "is my symbol of office gifted to me from the Emperor himself. While this is a gift from your lord."
The soldier glanced to his compatriot and made a decision.
"You may enter your Grace, we cannot take a symbol of office gifted from the Emperor."
Derek nodded and walked inside, his hand on the hilt of the dagger as he stepped over the threshold.

[Uryens de Crux]

The traffic south towards Sonnefurt had been observed keenly from the docks of Wusterburg, the names of the noblemen, the numbers of their entourage and their colours and condition all well noted and then well debated in Ravenswood Manor, the home of the De Crux family. Eventually a plan was decided upon, for better or worse and eventually a well appointed river barge left its moorings and headed up the river Soll.

It was newly painted in black, its lines picked out in silver and gold, from its stay lines were hung bunting of yellow, white and grey and at it's stern were flown a standard.



On its decks could be seen soldiers liveried in grey and white uniforms, their officers wearing sashes of azure and murray, stood stiffly to attention, their spears held straight up and their lion faced shields  across their breasts.

It took the barge but a little time to make the short journey up river to Sonnefurt and as it turned onto the Sonne Rived, there care the peal of drums and a fanfare of trumpets announcing the barge's arrival to all and sundry. As the fanfare died down the drums merely began to beat out a rythm, keeping time with the oarsmen of the barge as the sails were furled and the barge headed towards a mooring.

Eventually the barge was secured at its mooring and a gangway run down from the deck to the harbour, the incessant drums changed their tempo to a rapid beat as the grey and white liveried spearmen formed an honour guard. Once in place the barge's passenger appeared at the top of the gangway. A young man, dressed in a sumptuous doublet of gold and silver, cut in the style of the latest fashion from Altdorf and about his shoulders a black cloak trimmed in grey and white fur.

As he stepped down the gangway, behind him followed a Sigmarite cleric and a scribe, and behind them fell in the spearmen, ten in total as the party headed towards the town centre.

Behind the sailors began to unload the barge, bags, sacks and boxes...

[Chev]

Eowold awoke to the sounds of chime of bells, He’d overslept once again. Reoccurring dreams of nights spent patrolling the Drakwald had haunted his dreams for many nights recently. Eowold had thought it had been an onset problem caused by his drinking, but he hadn’t drank for days so what could it be?

Someone knocked at the door.
“Come in” shouted Eowold, preparing his travels bags as he spoke.
Sebastian Farber stepped through the doors, “Morning, Marshall”
“Ah, Bastian, Come to wish me luck?” joked Eowold, Paying little attention as he continued to prepare his  travel supplies.
“That’s the main reason for my visit, sure” laughed Bastian “But I’m here about our regiment.”
“Your question would be who takes charge in my absence? It’d be you.” Smirked Eowold, Bastian would have known he’d take command while Eowold was away but it was nice of him to ask.
“It’d be a pleasure, Eowold. How long shall you be away?” he asked
“I don’t quite know, I’ve heard many nobles are travelling to this affair. Stattenland have already sent a suitor, apparently it’s Derek but that’s just rumour. I expect to be a couple months, the journey itself will take most of a week.” Eowold fastened his baggage straps and carried them to Bastian  “Keep the men safe, Bastian. They trust your leadership so you’d not have to prove anything to them” Eowold laughed “We all know our losses on the Weiss Hills would have been much worse without your plans.” Bastian responded with a nod, taking one of Eowolds suitcases, and led him out to the courtyard.

[Lord_Bieter]

The Duke's entrance was suitably grand, his princely clothes and noble bearing quite at home in this fine country house, his honor guard's armor polished to a rare sheen. Preceptor Markus intercepted the guards on their way in, leading them to the semi-circular bay in the dining room Giuseppe had christened the Warrior's Den, where those who did not wish to join the lords for dinner could sit and eat in less august company. The Duke was sat at a place on the right hand of the head of the table, with a place at his own right for his guest.  Still, there was no one at the table's head as of yet, and he was quite alone.

That soon changed, the Graf coming through a side passage only moments after the Duke's seating. He was dressed rather strangely, in an anachronistic style more akin to Magnus the Pious's time than their own, a thick, deep grey felt doublet, slashed with plum samite, plum hose, and small, pointed leathern shoes with silver buckles. Even so, he wore his more modern dark red cloak over the ensemble, pinned with the magnificent broach the Duke had gifted him. Following him was a wide and weathered Norscan, clad in black broadcloth with a heavy mantle of white bear-fur, and beside the northman there stood a Tilean with a finely waxed black mustache in finest carmine embroidered silk jerkin, high-collared and opened at the top in the Bretonnian style, over a green and silver doublet of gabardine with worked buttons, and the new Miraglianese trend of the ruff, though very small, about his neck. With this he wears green velvet hose, white shoes slashed with carmine, and cloth-of-silver gloves, adorned with an embroidered stoat, picked out in black. The Graf sits at the head of the table, with the Norscan at his left, and the Tilean at the Norscan's right.

After they sit, wine, ale, and a few other drinks are offered...

(You're welcome Chev, decided to keep it small for you  )

[Derek Contyre]

Derek sat as his hosts sat and accepted first a glass of Bretonnian wine that he recognised as fairly smooth.
"I must apologise Graff, for my guest has yet to appear, he was supposed to have come with me but, apparently, he has other things on his mind right now."
Noticing his broach he smiled; "Ah I thought you appreciate the gift, that was hand made by one Sturn Hardhammer, the master craftsdwarf who also is CEO of the Contyre-Statten Trading company, I believe it was his last work with white and yellow gold, as he has vowed to only work with an apparently new metal call Platinum, but you know how dwarfs are, and dwarfs with gold at that."
Pulling his two handed 'symbol of office' from his waist he hung the belt it was on over the back of the chair and pulled the knife from his sheath on his right.
"This must have a story to it as well?" Derek ventured. "The giving of weapons, bladed ones at that is a serious and thoughtfull gift in Stattenland, considering that the sword is THE symbol of office. SO while my gift may be worth far more than yours in value of money, be assured that your gift is worth many times more in my eyes."
Derek concluded by replacing the knife back into its sheath at his waist and sipping his wine, testing the flavour and age.
"Languille is it not?"

[Lord_Bieter]

Smiling as he draped his cloak over the chair's back, Johann scooted in to the table, choosing for himself a ten-year Armagnac, a fine-brnady making region in Gascogne, he had brought with him, appreciating the rich amber in the cut glass cup. Turning to look at his guest, he finally opened his mouth, "A fine palette, Your Grace (as Johann is of lesser rank, he must refer to you as Your Grace or simply Nueremberg, unless you specify otherwise), few northerners could have sensed the slight change of acidity between Armorique and Fladerns to the east, most perceptive. Still, for your edification, it is a Cabourg, a little to the south of that fair port." he raises his glass in salute all the same.

"As to the dagger, well there is a tale to that. I was a little younger man, not as cautious as you now see. *Truly haunted* The woods changed me. You probably heard of the Nemesis Crown and the conflict that ensued about its discovery? I did as well, I had heard from friends in Nuln, and I was ready to serve my Emperor and fight whatever enemies might come my way while we searched for this artifact or weapon or whatever we thought it was, it didn't matter *He smiles*. It was the goal of the Quest, the object of our liege-lord's desire and I and the rest of my Chapter were itching to die in his service. And so we did. *He begins to drift off, not really aware of what he's saying* We entered those winding, narrow trails where the sun turned green under the weight of so many leaves, and the only light turned each each path into a colonnade, the shafts of light carrying the heavy bows. It was beautiful. But behind the lights and the branches and hoary trunks were things. Beasts with dark designs, gors and ungors, great Minotaurs, nameless beasts of unspeakable nature that no god, however treacherous or mad, could have conceived. *Giuseppe and Hardeknud share a worried look* That wasn't even the worst of it. Of course we had friends *cynical*, the Dwarves, the Elves, the Bretonnians, they all helped, but there were always more of them, creeping out of the undergrowth, than we could ever muster, orcs, goblins, warriors from the north, barbarian tribesmen who were born to know no other way, only following Chaos the way we follow Sigmar or Myrmidia, the cursed rat-things, bane of my life, ogres, reptiles from foreign shores, and the Elves. The cruel, sharp, cold Elves that drifted through the trees, silent, and all together black. One by one my Chapter fell, the first was Boris von Walsch. If I ever had a brother it was he, but they took him all the same, the trees did, from all around the forest moved and surrounded him, til I couldn't even hear his screams. I left that patrol alone and friendless."

"I moved to a new detachment of knights, from a different Order, the Knights Griffon, and their captain, a Knight only a little older than me, took me into his circle when no other would even look at me, knowing the taint the trees had left me on sight. Hector, his name was, he went far as I remember. Even with his help I only moved around like a machine, mindless, automatic. I practiced the motions, I killed the enemy, I helped my new comrades, even as they were picked off as well, but unlike my men, we were saved. Hector had family that had pulled strings to keep him safe. His friendship was little comfort to me then, he was only so undamaged because he had guardian angels looking over him, his will wasn't any stronger than mine, his resolve any fuller, he simply had nothing to fear. It was that same evening that for the first time since my men...that I decided to play cards with the others. It was an old favorite of mine, Red Sally, I was always quite good, and when the smiling fool bet his prized dagger, I pounced. That such a thing of beauty meant so little to him, I couldn't let him keep it. It would go against everything I know to let one so undeserving keep something so valuable. It was mine in mere moments. He told me it was some dwarf's masterpiece, that I should take good care of it. I just stared at him, uncomprehending that he was so uncaring for such a jewel. He laughed and walked away from me, like it didn't matter. I walked away to, and I kept walking until..."

"I think that's enough of that story Han," Giuseppe said nervously, "I think you told it's story well. As for Your Grace, I think you'll be most pleased with the first course, it's a very nice set of lamb skewers from the Sardic Isles, and a Tilean piece of my craft, gnocchi with pesto and olive oil beside, soaked in a tarragon jus."

[Derek Contyre]

Derek had been listening intently to Johann's tale, after all he had his own daemons to deal with as well, but on hearing of the Gnocchi, he snapped out of it and looked for the first time at Giuseppe.
"That sound extraordinary master chef, I cannot wait to try it." He flashed a smile which would of melted an iceberg and the room returned to a warm place filled with people.
"Lord Bieter, your tale is indeed a rare thing, many are the nobles of Hochland and even Stattenland that went looking for that accursed crown who never returned, you are lucky to have survived it, when so many of your friends did not. Perhaps you should live your life for those who have not the ability?" Derek watched Johann's eyes, the pain there receded a little, which made him smile.
"I believe I have finished the fine wine, and I will remember the name Cabourg, for when I am next in Marienburg I will remember to buy several flasks.
"But here, I have something for us to wet our appetites before the excellent first course." Derek reaches behind him and pulls a bottle of Kislevite vodka and in one swift motion, uncorks it and places it and five small glasses on the table.
"This is a Starka, Vodka from the northern regions of Kislev, I warn you, it has a kick to it." He poured the vodka into each small glass, without spilling any and offered them one. Giuseppe looked at it strangely while Johann sniffed at it, but Hardeknud's eyes open wide and he grabs the small glass without any hesitation.
"Well, glasses up!" He said and swallowed his shot in one, reversed the glass and dumped it on the table.

[Lord_Bieter]

After smelling the odd drink, for even his travels had never taken him so far north, he took it gingerly and drank it down, and as he drank, the realization of what he had said matched the caustic kick of the fiery liquor. His eyes watered for a little, tears spilling down his cheek unchecked for a moment, content that the liquor would keep his grief cloaked. The name Starka, he noted, for it was more than a little to his liking, never had he had such a concentration of alcohol before. Glancing at his comrades, Hardeknud had settled more comfortably in his seat, a smile on his face, while Giuseppe seemed to be having some small issues with swallowing, a strange rolling movement on his spine and a look of greatest horror on his face that showed too well how he was handling the rough substance. A moment and a melodramatic swallow later, Giuseppe raised his head, and quietly spluttered, "A bit of lash indeed, Your Grace. You were correct on that account." before calling for water, taking it in both hands to clear the drink from his throat.

Chuckling a little, Johann spotted the cooks arriving with the lamb and gnocchi, and, taking a skewer and a small pile of the fragrant pasta, he said,
"Let me hope for us all that this spirit of yours has not wholly killed our tastes, for I should warn you, Lord Zell's chefs are finer than any that can be found in Steingart, or many another place I've been. Tell me, Nueremburg, how comes it you came here? Giuseppe thinks I'm too young for marriage, better to wait til I'm more than half dead to marry someone worth the effort. Let me tell you, this rascal's been married twice now, both times to great hulking maids with more money than brains and a face like a dried fig. He truly believes that marrying for anything but convenience is folly. Still, you are young, younger than me at any rate *he chuckles, the dark is mostly gone from his eyes now*, and I know I have waited perhaps too long, but you have time ahead, why now?"

[Derek Contyre]

Derek chuckled as he corked the Vodka and replaced it in his belt pouch under the table;
"Well maybe Giuseppe has more brains in that stunning moustache of his than in our entire noble heads."
Everyone laughed at that as the plates of interesting and delicious smelling food were piled high around them. As ranking nobleman in the room, Derek had the honour to try the food before the host, but he declined.
"A host has the rights of a king in his own home when it comes to food Graf Bieter, at your pleasure."
Hardeknud raised his eyebrow but said nothing.

Rolling his eyes in pleasure, Bieter slowly and surely swallowed his first morsel.
Derek ate his first portion and sat back, the juices flowed inside his mouth and his eyes watered at sheer taste and pleasure.
"This food, it is truly exquisite, only once have I had its equal, and that was the day I awoke from a four day coma after fighting in the Storm of Chaos five years ago. The food then on my starving stomach was raw and powerful. But this flavour, smooth and silky at first, but the subtle spices blossom after you swallow. Truly a remarkable dish."
The waiters smiled, already thinking of how massive the ego of the chefs would be after hearing this compliment from a Duke no less.
"But I have tarried long enough Bieter, In answer to your question my father Prince Seth has ordered I marry, at first I was angered, having been denied freedom of choice, as you said I am young and headstrong.
"But after receiving the Baroness portrait. . ." Derek's eyes light up with passion and his whole demeanour changes, where before he was standoffish and almost regal, a transformation takes place in front of their very eyes, his eyes shine as he talks, his hands nervously fiddle with his sleeves and a permanent smile covers his face.
"Her eyes were what I noticed first, how big and brown they are, while her fair skin the colour of untarnished white silk, and the shape of her neck as it joins her cheekbone."
After staring off into space for several seconds Derek pulls himself together and looks at them all.
"Well maybe it is something I want as well. Though married life was never my intention several months ago I can tell you that in confidence, but now, perspectives change.
"But maybe I have just created an illusion for myself, maybe she is a complete reversal of what I have created." Looking crestfallen he begins eating again and asks for another glass of wine to lighten his demeanour.

[Lord_Bieter]

Giuseppe piped up from the back, "Indeed my boy, you see, as Han so clearly stated, I have tended to marry for money and convenience, usually to women who throw themselves at me, *smug smile* which I can say is a fairly regular occurrence. Still, even I have had a case of L'amore di Ritratti, as they call it my land, 'The Love of Portraits'. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, black hair, green eyes, Detlef Sierck material. I had signed away to marry her a few days after seeing the portrait. It was a hard examination, many other candidates, but all of them had seen the portrait only as well. I won though, and we were married without ever setting eyes on one another. I found out all too soon, however, that I had I merely married the daughter of a man with connections to a damn fine portraitist. On the other hand Han here has seen her a few times and says she's to die for, so I may be wrong. My Isadora was a woman to die of, not for."

Laughter rang in the room for a few moments, and they ate, and ate, and talked and talked, and time got on. Soon the meal was over, the tables cleared away, and in their wake the fire was drawn low, and a plethora of large, cushy winged-armchairs were placed around it. Johann produced an enormous pipe that reached straight down to the floor, puffing away merrily, while Giuseppe got hold of an exceptionally long cigarillo. The Graf looked up after a moment, "Would you care for anything before we get to the meat of the evening?"

[Derek Contyre]

Derek pulled out his bottle of Starka.
"I am set distinguished host, for I do not smoke, according to a cranky old professor in my lands it kills you, and no one is permitted to smoke anywhere within his home or even when he is in the room, although he does make exceptions... when at court is one."
Derek smiled and deposited himself in one of the sumptuous armchairs and sank into it with a sigh. Though his sword of office was placed over the back of the chair, it seemed he never let it out of his site or indeed, even let go of it.
His vodka came out again and the five small glasses he placed on the small table in the middle of the armchairs.
"Anyone car for a nightcap? Or would this be only a drinking drink, with songs and merriment?" He smiled as he uncorked it and poured a shot for himself, then, thought better of it and called a servant over and whispered something into his ear.
The servant looked confused for a moment and Derek whispered more urgently than before. Apparently getting it this time, the man rushed of to the kitchens.

A minute or two later he returned with a tall glass and a bottle of fine apple juice.
"AH excellent, this is another way to make vodka drinkable my friends." He poured the shot of vodka into the taller glass, and then proceeded to fill the remainder with the apple juice.
"It 'waters' it down so to speak and gives it better flavour, Vodka you see blends well with other liquids. Though I do not recommend having it with water. Worst night of my life." He smiled and, instead of the customary one mouthful knock back, took a drink from the glass.
"The 'meat' of tonight's matter Graf, I assume you did not mean the unparalleled food we have eaten this evening?"

[Lord_Bieter]

"No indeed, though I'll happily partake of that drink before we begin." Giuseppe as well has some, and offers, "You know, I think I've seen something like this before in Miragliano. Yes, Pigacco, Duke of Martine, was often want to carry such drinks about."

Johann begins again, "Intriguing, a fine flavor, but on to the business at hand. The 'meat' of our evening, as you say, does not come on any beast, but comes rather from the mind and heart, where the will resides. Now, I realize that we've had a most pleasant evening together, passed in telling tales, and swapping stories, but you must realize that come the Ball, we will be at war for the hand of the Baroness. I will tell you now, I have waited for an opportunity like this for 6 years. Whatever respect and even small friendship we may have will not dissuade me from breaking with you to reach my goal. I enjoy your company, I do, but I want this, no, I need this. I want to stay friends and allies, the Statten-Contyre Trading Company will have just as much a place in a Sonnefurt with a Bieter Baron as Sonnefurt with a Contyre, but I think even you must see that I am 'the' suitor. You are the heir to a far-off Principality, and a recent addition to the nobility of Wissenland as well, a good one I think, but still new. You could never offer the kind of help I could to the Baroness, and you can only offer the support of a land that may be high and mighty in the north, but here, that influence means little. I would like to see you out of this race, before I am forced to intrigue to defeat you. For defeat you I will. If we both make it through this alive, which I cannot promise given our competitors, I will again offer my friendship, but til then, consider an offer. I will swear to neither harm you, nor those around you, nor to play any card that would see you anything more than simply defeated. You will promise the same. All other vehicles to victory are open. Play by those rules, and I promise, that dagger is only the first of the tokens of respect you will receive. If you choose to follow the other path, and fight me without even the pretense of gentlemanly concern, I cannot say my respect will remain undiminished. Only a fool risks the ire of an unknown quantity."

Sitting back, he resumes puffing, blowing an enormous ring right to the ceiling.

[Derek Contyre]

Derek watched the ring float magnificently.
"I have always wanted to do that.
"My reasons may not be as 'local' as yours Bieter, but I also intend to win the hand of the Baroness, though I may reserve my judgement till after I spend five minutes with her." Pulling the portrait of Katarina Heisenburg from his inside pocket he places it on the table.
"While she is a beautiful catch, she could also be someone I couldn't bare to be around."
Looking at Johann again he sized him up.
"I agree to your terms, for I too would make a friend over an enemy. But I will hold to your word Bieter, that we are war when the ball comes, and I will not forget that. Though for now, we can enjoy the company of ourselves and our friends, it is just a pity that Captain Dietrich couldn't be here to share the evening, for his tales of war would rival yours, and yet his moustache is of a greater length and density than yours Giuseppe."
"But I digress, indeed my homeland may be far to the north, but our influence reaches here too, though not as much as my father would like, hence this marriage alliance between the Baroness and myself.
"My reason for marriage is infatuation, and my fathers is commercial gain. An Imperial wide Trading Empire would dominate the markets of nearly every province and town in the Empire. That kind of wealth brings enormous power, especially to those who help us achieve it."
Looking squarely into Johann's eyes, Derek made his move.
"If I win the hand of the Baroness, you can be assured that any who help me will be catapulted with my star as it rises."

[Alexious]

The raven which had been sitting silently at the leaded box window took to the night air and circled slowly above the townhouse that Lord Bieter had rented. Turning in larger circles it took in the view of the town, the road, the docks and then headed down toward the oldest part of the town toward it's master and the cemetery.

Anastazy smiled as he saw the ebony shape come toward him through the darkness and he opened his pale palms presenting a sinister bone like birds nest of fingers for the raven to land upon. The bird landed and looked up at him with its pale yellow eyes it's head darting side to side and sqwaked once at its master. "Shhhhhh little one." Anastazy whispered. "You have done well my friend." Taking his hand Anastazy drew a finger down the birds neck and along its wing as if to comfort the creature. "It would appear they are intent on this marriage, yes?" Anastazy spoke to the bird as he laughed. "I have a new task for you my friend." Anastazy reached slowly around the birds neck. He could feel the blood rushing through the creature, warm and full of life. "But to take this message you need to rest for your journey." Anastazy snapped the birds neck and felt the creature struggle for a moment in his hands before it went limp. "Now you are at rest."

A few minutes later the raven now again moving took to the darkened sky and headed north east toward its new home....Castle Drakenhof. Anastazy watched it for a moment and briefly thought of home before he looked toward the crypts arrayed around him.

"Yes." The voice filling his head was ancient, it scraped at the inside of his skull with age and decay.

"We have not been disturbed?" Anastazy quizzed the darkness and watched as the shadows and the night itself seemed to melt together. Within moments the form of a tattered black robe that appeared to be blowing in a wind he could not feel, suspended in the night air appeared. Then a stark white mocking skull materialized at the top of the robe and within the oily darkness of the night the form of an ancient rusted scythe came into view.

 "No, we are unseen and no magic has been used." The raspy voice again filled his head. The creature took an almost mocking bow before him.

 "Good." Anastazy whispered. "It is time to begin the next stage." Anastazy replaced his black gloves on his hands and straigthened his cloak. "Warn me if anyone disturbs the Crypts."

"As you command." The figure replied icily once more before in the blink of an eye it winked back into the darkness and was gone.

[Lord_Bieter]

"Indeed? You offer power for assistance. You interest me, I begin to like you even more, Nueremburg. Your offer and the intensity with which you make it give me an intriguing idea, we might help each other."
"I thought we would inevitably come to war, but this talk has given me far more to think about than I imagined. You are a most engaging young man."
"I think we have a future, you and I. We might bind ourselves in alliance, and assure one of us of victory."
"At the Ball, the Baroness may make her choice, but whichever of us she seems to like more, the other will in turn give assistance. Upon the choice, we may go into business together, a Contyre-Bieter concern, if you will."
"Think of it, with your family's trading empire and my local connections we can dominate the south from Karak Norn to Karak Angazhar. In that end, it wouldn't really matter who ruled Sonnefurt, and her choice would make either of us happy."
"I can find another in time, and so can you, but a hold in Sonnefurt as our base and our alliance can make us real powers in the land."
Johann stands, leaning his pipe by the fire, and extends his hand, "What do you say, Your Grace?"

[Derek Contyre]

Derek smiled a predatory smile.
"I am glad you have seen it in the way I hoped you would Graf Bieter. Agreed." Derek shook his hand firmly.
"But on one condition, on the night of the ball, we each try our hardest to win the Baroness, that way we cannot say we were not men about it afterwards and that our best was not enough to best the other."
Sitting back down, Derek called for some wine to refresh his thirst.
"Now, I propose this, if I win the Baroness hand, I will build a Contyre-Statten trading company HQ anywhere you choose, be it Steingart or anywhere else, and you would be the officer in charge of the trade in the region, any income you make on top of what you are able to organise trade wise you can keep, provided you pay a five percent loyalty tax to the main company back in Stattenland.
"Trust me my new business partner, you are getting a huge discount on many of the other trading offices we have in other cities, but don't let anyone else in on that." Derek smiled again and sipped from his glass.

Dietrich ran after the man who fled to the Docks, though this was a dangerous area for any soldiers to be after sunset, Dietrich felt confident, he had his pistols and sword after all, but he wore no armour, which unnerved him, but it also made him run faster and quieter.
The man fled on and into a side street, Dietrich followed him but slowed, if this was a ruse to get him lost, it would work, he already had no idea of where he was in the Docks, knowing only that he was in Sonnefurt.
Slowing his pace to a light jog, Dietrich came around the corner to the sound of soft taps against a door. Freezing solid, Dietrich poked his head around the corner and saw his quarry disappear into a tavern on the opposite side of the street. The windows were boarded up and it looked like it hadn't seen service in months. But the sign over the door proclaimed it to be the 'Dirty Mermaid' Inn and brothel.
'Definitely not the name to call a brothel.' Dietrich said to himself as he slinked over to the door of the Dirty Mermaid.
Taking out one of his ever present side arm knives, he slowly slid it into the well worn crack of the door handle and frame. It was surprisingly free of dust, he noted absent-mindedly.
After several careful wiggles with his chosen instrument, the door clicked open and Dietrich drew his sword and moved inside. Darkness assaulted his vision as he closed the door, but his quick glance revealed old chairs and tables stacked against the walls while the bar looked like it had seen many fights over the years. Off to the right was a stair case leading up to a balcony that stretched across the top of the bar. Four rooms with various states of wear looked down on Dietrich as he looked for any sign of a person entering.
Luckily a fine layer of dust was visible beneath his feet and footprints leading into the middle of the floor drew Dietrich on into the old brothel.
They stopped at a second set and led behind the bar, where, on closer inspection, there rested a well used trapdoor, completely free of dust.
A bolt hole? Since when did brothels have those? He wondered to himself before checking the hinges on the trapdoor.
Free of rust? These people are either efficient at losing followers or extremely clean.
Opening the trapdoor soundlessly, Dietrich descended into the bowels of the tavern, creeping on his toes.

The tunnel went on for some time, as had the steps leading down into it. Dietrich followed it as would a cat stalking prey, his sword out in front of him as he went. after walking for a long time in complete darkness, almost tripping over invisible things, the tunnel closed in a little and a light flickered ahead. Voices could be heard from up ahead, male voices, in high states of either frenzy of excitement.
Creeping closer, Dietrich began to understand what they were saying.
"You saw im first Hablut, riding in on that great winged 'orse of 'is, so you tell us abou' it." A large voice.
"Well you see here, on his saddlebags was a sword of fine making, hasn't been seen around these parts for nigh on four hundred years. Though it was seen in the wars north of here, up around Sahlmfare way I believe, or was it further? Either way, you both know what that sword could mean for the SSS." A second weasely 
Dietrich's heart almost popped out of his throat, The bandits? HERE? What in Sigmar's Empire was happening?
"SHhhh! I told you not to say nuthin abou' tha' name." The large voice grew angry at that.
"Calm down there Borrin, no one is here, the damn SSS can be said aloud for once, and I am proud to say it."
Grumbles could be heard from the larger voice and a second less large voice.
"Now you heard of the plan from up top did you not? We are to take that sword and present it to Him. When He has it, we can rise up against the accursed Wissenland Baroness and take Sonnefurt for ourselves, and for . . ." His voice cut out as the others shhhhd him.
"You know we can't say it aloud Hablut, He would have our necks, even weren't we down here under the Ballroom." Dietrich looked up at the ceiling, it wasn't there, only blackness above his head.
"Well after we clamber through that hole in a weeks time, I will say it all I want then, understand, He or no He. I'm sick of bribing guards and watchmen, I want action now. Let's get out of here before I go through that hole right now."
Footsteps came towards Dietrich with the light, but he had already began creping away, memorising every detail that had happened to him that night, about the Bandits known as the SSS, about the attack on the Ballroom where nobles from across Wissenland and beyond were assembling and the Baroness herself.
Derek must be told. And he ran towards the tunnel entrance.

[Lord_Bieter]

(this is the last bit, I assume, of pre-ball fluff since it's Thursday and all.)

Johann smiled right back. He hadn't lied, the lad was growing on him, but if the cocksure lad thought he could bamboozle Johann Bieter just like that, than he was very wrong. Derek's offer actually stung a little. Did he really think him so naive of business as to not know when he was being taken advantage of? If he accepted the offer he'd be a small-time player in Stattenland's quest for wealth, their southern flunky to organize affairs while they were busy abroad. He was sure he could make fine money at it, but he wanted more than that. He had offered the young Duke a new company, a way to strike out on his own from the family fold into uncharted and extremely lucrative territory. If the lad had wanted just another Contyre-Statten location, he could have just arranged it with the local merchants. A Contyre-Bieter venture had very little risk, and much to gain, with northern gold financing their financial conquest of the south through his contacts in the Ore trade, then moving on to take over other markets like wine and horses. The boy was thinking small, and for himself, a bad combination. Johann would have to change his thinking.

"Very well indeed on your first proposition, I can see your meaning and I appreciate it well. However, on your second offering I must take pause. I accept that in the event of your marriage to the Baroness you would wish to build a Contyre-Statten headquarters, and that in the event of my marriage to the Baroness you may still do so."
"However I still disagree with your insistence on holding to the family company, it would be much more profitable for both of us if we simply formed our own enterprise, perhaps under the auspices of your family's holding as parent company, but still our own venture. I have plans already forming in my mind for the future, no branch of a northern Trading Company, a powerhouse in its own right."
"It was no jest when I said that we could rule from Karak Norn to Karak Angazhar over a trading empire of concentrated scope. With the wealth of your family and my contacts, it is a possibility, a likely one at that."
"We have such a chance, you and I, to make something great, but to squander it on some northern enterprise when the south beckons for its own, and its own offers you an in...It is folly, as far as I am concerned. We have too great a future to do it such a disservice."
 

[Derek Contyre]

Derek blinked. What did I say? I could of sworn. . . Oh well, he at least knew what I meant.
"Of course Bieter, I had meant a Bieter-Contyre Trading enterprise, I don't know what came over me." Derek laughed.
"It must be force of habit, so much of the work I do has to do with the Contyre-Statten trading company stamped all over it I get a bit brain scrambled with the damn stuff. "
'Phew,' Derek thought, 'That was close, I cannot lose this valuable contact for a new trading empire for both he and myself, it would put me at a huge disadvantage in the coming years attempting to build Nuestaat.'

"This trading venture would be extremely lucrative, and with my families business in Nuln, we have a monopoly of nearly all of Wissenland and beyond, I can block any attempts for the Contyre-Statten company to expand down here, and if you have the head for it, I think it would be better if you handled it and I only became a partner in the business. I am thinking something along the lines of 60-40 percentage of earnings. But, if you wanted to be full partners, than I am open to that, but it would be unfair of me to be full partners and have to keep travelling north all the time and force you to handle everything by yourself, you would get resentful and a good business relationship cannot be open to personal clashes for it to blossom into the wondrous Oak that it could be.
"Where would we base this new business after the wedding? Should we have it in Steingart with you? Or in Nuestaat with me, or somewhere in the middle. . . Sonnefurt?"

Dietrich sprinted for the townhouse where his dinner appointment expired almost four hours ago, the merchant quarter was almost empty, except for a few stragglers wandering here and there, drunk or lonely in the near midnight air.
'Oh SIgmar,' Dietrich prayed as he ran, 'Please let my lord still be there, and that this Graf Bieter can help us in our attempt to stop the Baroness being killed.'


(I don't know, Le Pistolet said he was going to write up some background fluff for the event as well, and we haven't seen any from Uryens or anyone else. Either way I am just going to keep writing this until Le Pistolet comes up with a "Wedding Time" or something else)

[Lord_Bieter]

(Okay, I apparently read way too close into that, sorry, if you like my misgivings didn't happen, I really thought you were trying to twist words around to your advantage, there were some vague areas, and I was just covering my bases. In future, the predatory smile bit put me on guard, and left me trying to figure out where you preying on me. If you want to keep that bit, here's my follow-up)

"Let me be the first to offer congratulations, I'm sure it will a long and happy...Oh, this is a business deal, there was so much awkward tension I was sure a marriage was on. If you'll excuse me gentlemen, I have matters that must be seen to."
At this Giuseppe stands and walks, or rather totters, away.
"Liona." Johann muttered, rolling his eyes. Upon seeing the Duke's confusion, "His woman, higher maintenance than a steam tank that one. Spends half the day with her. Every day. I don't know whether to be annoyed or jealous." They shared a short laugh.
"Now as for business, that is all well, and I am happily gratified by your answers, as for location, I do not know. When we win Sonnefurt, it would make an ideal starting place for a mercantile dominion. I see it as a Statten of the south, to flatter my new friend, just positioned so as to make it the obvious next choice should Nuln fall again. Perhaps we could make it a City-State in a few decades. Who knows how well we'll do until we begin the undertaking."
"Besides, Steingart is too petty a realm, three towns and a clutch of logging camps and fishing villages, and too close to Averland, we don't want them to get wind of us til we're too big to squash. Damn Averlanders. If you ever meet my cousins there, be sure to send them on their way, so proud of their cattle pasture kingdom...Excuse the outburst, I am a bit of a patriot when it comes to my homeland, whether Solland or Wissenland, makes very little difference to me."
He grumbled a moment longer, then stood up, walking over to a tall, but none too wide bookcase, only a little taller and only a little broader than himself and pulled a book from the shelf, a history by its look, and the case sunk in, sliding through an unseen cleft after a moment. Walking i, he motioned for Derek to follow him. Come through the end of short tunnel, a small, chestnut-paneled study with a small bar service.

"Join me, Duke COnture, we may pass the days end in comfort."

[Derek Contyre]

(Lol its all good man, I just had to put that in, it wouldn't get out of my head otherwise. Also, there has to be more fluff past this point, I have an assassination attempt to stop here!  )

Derek followed Johann into his secret study, the moving bookcase was a neat trick, and the cosy study was well furnished.
"If you don't mind Bieter I will be taking this." Derek indicated the two handed sword that he carried.
"It never leaves my sight, if I lost this, the Emperor would have my head, regardless of our friendship and past business.
"So, to our beloved middle ground, Sonnefurt it is for the seat of our new trading company that will monopolise the southern Empire.
"Oh, I will have a glass of Brandy thank you, the top one, on the right. That's the one, thank you."

The house came into view as Dietrich rounded the corner, his hand slapped the wall as he sprinted past and the sound echoed back behind him.
The hairs on the back of his neck rose to soul chilling levels and he ducked just as a crossbow bolt flew past his left ear and embedded into the side of a house in front of him. Too late did he hear the footsteps following him from the Dockyards all the way to the Merchants Quarter. Too late did he realise he had been followed.

Right to the thing that the SSS had talked about getting their hands on to assassinate the Baroness.

"ALARM!" Dietrich called as loud as he could and sprinted for the door.

[Lord_Bieter]

"ALARM!"

Within the interior chamber of the secret study, the two nobles heard nothing, but outside in the dining room, where Marshall Knudsen sat nursing the abandoned Starka, enjoying the familiar flavors...He jumped at the noise, dark grey eyes flashing in all directions, trying to determine the noise's origin as he heard a commotion at the door. Standing up, shaking his head to clear the drink, and making purposeful strides toward the door, he made a point to grab his halberd like waraxe as he made his way.

Approaching the door to the foyer, two of Johann's knights stood in his way for but a moment, but his quick glare put them back at their posts. Entering the foyer, he found three of the knights, a particularly sturdy looking member of the Duke's Honor Guard, and one of Zell's doormen who looked quite shaken. " 'E ran right at me, screamin' things and I got..I got a lit'l scared."
One of the Knights, who after another moment he recognized as Preceptor Markus, was not pleased, "And because you were scared you ran your halberd through his shoulder? He was screaming 'Alarm!' for Lady's sake, man! He needed help! For all we know you killed him for it."
"It was only a stab in the shoulder, and we're in the city, 'e'll *swallows* 'e'll be fine, I'm sure of it. (Now a little angry) And'e punched me afterwards to! Right in my eye, I bled a lit'l. Doesn't seem like he needed much 'elp."
"All very well for you to say that, but from what I saw, you went right through the poor man's bone, that'll have to come off at least! Not to mention he's probably one of the Duke's men, from the look of him, and I fail.."

As Hardeknud observed the situation, an extremely irritated Giuseppe came rushing into the room, his mustache unwaxed and lank, a billowing green silk nightgown, not a robe, a gown, about him. "Alright, where is this injured man?"
"He's still outside Your Highness."
"Still outside! Idiots! Imbeciles! The dastards that were undoubtedly after him could pick him off from the streets! Go get him in here!"
"Yes Your Highness!"
"Servant!" indiscriminately calling about the house.
"Yes mil-Your Highness?" coming from a scullery boy who had come at the noise.
"Get me a basin of hot water, it needs to be just under boiling, like for the gnocchi. Understand?"
"Yes Your Highness!"
"With it get me one of those silk napkins from the Ziegeschnitzel, and some Latte de Fichi from the panetier. Do you have all of that?"
"Uhmmm..Yes Your Highness!..?"
"Just go."
At that moment the knights returned with a grizzled soldier with a nasty hole in his right shoulder. Laying on the floor, they stood and Markus looked worried.
"He's fine, but their were three crossbow bolts in the ground around him, and we saw some men running in the distance. Whatever he did, or saw, he's dealt with some desperate men."
"We should find that out in a moment Preceptor. Ah, thank you boy. I'll be damned, he actually got the Latte de Fichi."
Pouring the milky substance into the water, he proceeded to wash his hands in it, then poured some on the wound. finally he took the napkin, and with a single tear, tore it into strips which he used to wrap the wound, bind the arm to his body, and do a number of other small wraps to insure that his shoulder was immobile. As he did this, Hardeknud saw a tiny flash of light under his hands from his vantage point on the stairs leading to the dining room. Giuseppe looked up and winked at him.
"Your Highness, I must ask..what does the figwater do?"
"Well, it will make the wound smell nice, and it makes my hands extra soft and smooth."
"So, no actual medical effect? Your Highness."
"Nope. Now sit him up in...Marshall Knudsen's bed, I believe it is the least plush. I'll see him again in the morning. Oh, and *leaning close* what's your name? <slight mumbled whisper> I'll just be moment."

He walked past Hardeknud, winking again, and walked to the secret study. Drawing the tome on the Fall of Solland during the Ironclaw invasion, the bookcase swung open again. He walked in, and Hardeknud only faintly heard the words, "Excuse the interruption of your sewing circle, but we accidentally stabbed a Heinrich Hemmler, apparently one of yours Contyre, and he'll be staying with us for the night. He should be fine."
And with that he was gone again, out the door and back up the stairs toward his room.

The old former Berserker and body guard of Naglfir Ironsea just stood there, perplexed and annoyed. Where was he going to sleep?   

[Derek Contyre]

Derek looked up startled, grabbed his sword instinctively and ran from the room.
Johann followed, barely.
"I take it you know this man?" He asked as they followed the procession of soldiers going up the stairs.
"Yes, he was supposed to meet me here tonight and spend the time in good company, he is Dietrich Hemmler, my Captain of the Armoured Guard."

They made it to the top of the stairs and turned into Dietrich's room.
Derek got to his side first, pushing the surgeon out of the way.
"Dietrich, the truth."

Dietrich related his story to them all, first astonishment and then anger at the later details. He left nothing out.
"My lord, they come for the sword.... Tonight!" His head slumped and he drifted into unconsciousness.
Derek's brow furrowed in thought and his grip on his sword tightened till his knuckles went white.
Behind him the surgeon tapped his foot impatiently.
"Johann, follow me." Many in the room were surprised at the Duke's dropping of formality, especially Johann Bieter, but he followed him anyway, he wanted to know what other story to this young noble he had not seen or heard about.

Re-entering the study, Derek took the discarded bottle of Starka, uncorked it and took a full swill.
Without stopping.
After draining a third, he stopped and put it down.
"I never thought I would tell a rival of this,"He said, patting his sword, "But if what Dietrich tells me is true, than we need to have honesty about it.
"You are a smart man lord Bieter, you know that swords, even elaborate ones do not simply become symbols of office without undue cause.
"And there is no undue cause in the Emperor gifting this to me for a time." As he was talking Derek had unwrapped the leather binding around the pommel and slowly drew the sword.
"Behold my friend, our enemies prize, The Runefang of Solland!"

[Lord_Bieter]

Johann was both amazed and vexed, the Solland Runefang, here? And in Nueremburg's care?

"I must admit some confusion Your Grace, Reiksmarshall Helborg carried that blade the last time I saw him, when did this change come about, and how comes it that a Northerner carries the Ancestral blade of my homeland?"

Finished, he contented himself with studying Contyre's eyes, waiting for the answer he would get there before it came out the Duke's mouth. Contyre may have dropped formalities, but his hackles had been raised by the realization of the Emperor's gift. He knew Contyre's family was of southern origin, but by this time assuredly there was less southern blood in them than the average garden in Pfeildorf. He knew many who had much closer blood ties to Count Eldred, he had even known a distant nephew of the Old Count (distant as in far down the line of ancestry, Eldred being his great-great-great-great-great-great-great uncle) by his illegitimate half-brother Rowan who had campaigned for some time to have the ancient blade returned, but he had never known that the Emperor had given Grudge Settler to any other but his Reiksmarshall. It rankled just a little. 

[Derek Contyre]

Derek thought swiftly about how much he should tell him, but decided his opne honesty policy was better than not.
"To put it simply Bieter, my father and I saved the Emperors life.
"He asked me what  Icould want in return for such a service. At first land and wealth came to my heart, but I knew those things were too insignificant to the Emperor, I needed to raise myself in stature in his eyes to win his regard."

Derek indicated the sword. "I asked him if I could wield the legendary blade of my ancestor, the Last Count of Solland, Eldred.
"My families records are all noted down, from the time we settled in Statten, it was recorded that Armand Contyre was a count of Wissenland, and his own words gave him claim as the brother of Eldred.
"An unbroken family line from then to now. The Emperor viewed my claim over a number if days and meticulously read and reread my families records.
"He recognised it by loaning me the Runefang for a decade, that is all I asked for."