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Author Topic: Mathilde von Boyce & the Purple Feather Gang  (Read 1753 times)

Offline b0007452

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Mathilde von Boyce & the Purple Feather Gang
« on: February 06, 2013, 10:25:01 PM »
b0007452 - Mathilde von Boyce & the Purple Feather Gang

Fluff - Abstract

Mathilde von Boyce, highwaylady of the Old Forest Road and renowned seductress of the wealthy has declared an interest in the lineage of Middenheim. Famed for her looks, chest and shot with a rifle she is despised by the rich as much as she is adored by the poor. She is the leader and only female member of the Purple Feather Gang, a troop of ruffians based out of the equally despairing inn, The Troll's Lament. Daily they raid the wagons of travelling merchants and nobles and retire back to the darkness of the Drakwald where few lawmen dare enter.

Lady von Boyce is both cunning and violent, and yeanrs for a wealth and life she was not born into. It's often thought that she would be well adapted to the draped, candle lit halls of the bourgeoisie; able to manipulate anyone she chooses with her deep alluring eyes and appealing confidence. Upon hearing of the return of a young and inexperienced Baron to Brass keep her eyes light up with a devious plan. She will wriggle her way into a position of value, via diplomacy, violence or both and befriend the the lord while he is in dire need of friends. A man as fresh to this power is easily influenced by those around and a lady like Mathilde does not find it hard to get her way. Rumours abound already that the young Baron's wife has heard of a mysterious and beautiful woman who has offered herself as an advisor to the estate of Brass Keep, but her jealousy does not worry a lady as meticulous as von Boyce as there is nothing known to the old world that will stop Mathilde von Boyce from getting her hands on what she wants. This precious desire that burns deep in her heart is to set herself on a pedestal after the Baron of Brass Keep has ascended to the throne and to finally after years as an outlaw, leave this life of tyranny to settle down with the one man she cares about... Thronin, her longest and most loyal friend.

2217

Mathilde sits in her dim corner of The Troll's Lament, the ruffians that form her bodyguard laugh and joke swilling beer and groping maidens as she listens intently to the conversation going on at the bar. Two travelling merchants discuss the ongoings in Middenheim. Ducilla is dead, and thus the throne of the wolf city must have a new suiter. Rumor has it that there are nine possibilities to replace Ducilla and all are prepared to go to great lengths to see the crown upon their head. Some sound vain and pompus, others boring and unadmirable but one name catches her imagination: Wilhelm von Sangershausen.

The fire crackles loudly and although she squints and focuses  she struggles to make out the domain of Wilhelm from the portly gentlemen at the bar. He stops talking, pats the back of his partner and heads out onto the road again; the busy life lived by a merchant. Slowly Mathilde stands and spectorally follows him out. It's something many people comment on, that despite her great beauty and grace Mathilde can dissapear as she pleases, like a ghost; it has lead to the soldiers of the Empire who guard teh forest roads to deem her little more than an angry spirit. The portly man begins his trudge to the stables, to meet hid old horse and embark on another long errand. Mathilde calls out and the white haired fellow turns, the remains of his lunch still visible in his moustache. She approaches smiling but as she steps within arms reach pulls out her pistol and cocks it to his brow.

"Tell me of Sangerhausen" She says.
".....Bu bu..." The man shakes and stutters.
"Keep calm and speak" She whispers soothingly, his nerves go limp.
"Brass Keep" He replies "The young noble returned to an empty home, his whole family struck down by a mystery illness. The entire estate is his."
She smiles and reveals her perfect white teeth, an odd phenomenon in a strange world like this.
"Thank you" She says politely, but add "I must have your money too".

His eyes never leaving hers the man reaches into his deep pockets and offers her several pieces of gold, along with a sizeable ruby. Once again she similes and slowly puts them into a small satchel hanging down to her waist. She half turns and relief swells in the lungs of the gentlemen as sweat drips onto his protruding stomach, but she only half turns and then silently pulls the trigger. A loud crack illuminates the silence but nothing more, no noise outside what so ever; but inside the pub no man stirs, the bards play, the men laugh and the women chatter. The world is blissfully unaware of the death of one man, only two know Mathilde and Morr and the lady is not afraid of either.

She slips back to her seat in the pub as quietly as she left, before she leans back and reaches to the shoulder of Thronin. Thronin is her faithful second in command and usually her primary protector, yet not even he seems to have noticed she left. A great fighter he seperates himself from the other low lifes by being able to spell his own name and genuinely caring about one thing... Mathilde. She has long known of his feelings, depsite his shyness and yet she has never done anything about it. What is ironic is that deep down she herself knows that she feels the same way, but a lady as smart and feared as her would not be seen with her expenandble underling in that kind of light.

She tells him she has a plan and that she will make contact with him soon, he asks her to be careful. She once again lets on that smile and simply replies he should stay out of trouble. She slips back out yet another time and unties her elegant black mare Nightwind, it's a long and cold ride to Brass Keep.

Hobbying

As I have only just signed up there isn't really a lot to say here, however I have already got the perfect model to represent the seductress herself. Hopefully I'll be able to her justice both physically and in this campaign. Moreover I'm going to make an effort to tie my campaign character in with my slowly growing PLog, we'll see how that goes.

As for the campaign itself it's my first ever one and I don't really have a clue what to do as of yet. For the most part I'm just gonna try and learn as I go along.

Really looking forward to it though :icon_mrgreen:

Jimmy
« Last Edit: February 08, 2013, 01:07:21 AM by b0007452 »
:) My Slowly Growing Army of Bogenhafen - http://warhammer-empire.com/theforum/index.php?topic=44020 :)

Offline b0007452

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Re: Mathilde von Boyce & the Purple Feather Gang
« Reply #1 on: March 05, 2013, 09:14:40 PM »
Turn 3 Fluff

The Siege of Wahnsinnigenn

Lady von Boyce portrayed the definition of elegance as she lightly lifted herself gently over the battlements, only to be offered a hand down on the other side by Thronin her second in command. She snorted in derision at the dirt on her hands and the excited jeers of the men that had been hauling themselves up the ladder below her; nevertheless a quick glance their way put their vile thoughts to death. She neglected to notice the irony in her decision to mount a ladder on her way into the city, when the already taken gatehouse was a perfectly viable option; still this was her character.

Mathilde took off her worn white gloves and replaced them with another pair from a deep pocket on her thigh, she ushered to one of her servents for her rifle. All around her fires raged, women and children screamed and men fought in intense hand-to-hand combat. Mathilde could see her allies banners being carried into the town and knew she must follow suit.

"Into the town!" She screamed at the ruffians around her. "Get down from these walls and find me von Orseln's head". Rapturous laughing and cheers erupted around her as her men overwhelmed the hopeless defenders in front of her and broke down the doors of taverns and houses alike.

From her viewpoint she could see a group of soldiers donning the livery of the Goat, they stood on the steps of a statue to Ulric; produly proclaiming their last stand. She could see a pile of her bandits corpses littering the cobbles around them, their blood running into every crevice. The defenders wrapped in a holy fervour. She felt down the barrel of her rifle, it had been a long time since she had held it; but it was irrelevant she knew it like a lover. She slowed her breathing, lent into the sights and calmed herself. In that moment nothing existed, there was no great battle or campaign for the throne. Just her, her rifle and her target. A loud crack illuminated the soundscape, men turned from their fights to look at what had just occurred. She lifted her head away from the smoking rifle, and looked down to where the stalwart defenders had stood. A bloody swathe had been driven through the heart of the group, three fresh bodies dropped to the floor like cherries from a tree. A glowing green residue seeped from the wounds, the wyrdstone bullets Lady von Boyce had purchased from an illegitimate wanderer some months prior were proving their worth. The few men that still stood on the steps of the monument quickly realised their predicament and dropped their weapons. Mathilde laughed and began to descend the steps to the courtyard below.

Walking back into the sunlight was like a nightmare, the men who had just surrendered were no more as the drunken scoundrels she had fighting for her had torn them limb from limb. She turned to Thronin, and spoke softly.

"Sort this rabble out and find Jaap or Tobias, I want to know what's happening on their end" Thronin nodded, and headed off to find a runner of one of their allies.

Mathilde von Boyce stood amongst her commanders and servents, observing the field. It was no longer a battle and more a chain of attrocities; her bandits were looting and pillaging as they pleased but it didn't concern her; she only cared for the body of von Orseln and his vote. Screams tore out from a house to her left as a maniacal Drakwalder dragged a young girl out by her hair.

"Are we here to rape young women, or are we here to secure Lord Sangerhausen a vote?" Mathilde questioned; the drunken half-wit looked confused, the girl still squirming in the mud under his hand. "Put her down!" She barked, and after some looks from the men around him he complied.

"Mathilde! Mathilde!" Called out Thronin, running back to his commander. "They have him, von Orseln has fallen but the vote carries on with his son. Van der Macht has him prisoner."

"Great" She replies.

"But maam we've lost Esk! Von Kerpen and his men have declared war on Duke Sangerhausen!" He quickly interjects.

"Take me to meet Tobias and Jaap. We clearly have much to discuss"
« Last Edit: March 05, 2013, 09:18:14 PM by b0007452 »
:) My Slowly Growing Army of Bogenhafen - http://warhammer-empire.com/theforum/index.php?topic=44020 :)