It was for quite a long time that these two were hunting in the alleys. Not before the campaign started, though. But it was obvious that they had faced the same species before. They knew how they’d react, which ones to spare and even which ones to help. The citizens tried to avoid them, not out of fear of them, but out of fear of their own.
On the day of the Lords 294 JW 975
at the Witchstone
in the valley of Hollar
His Durchlaucht told me that last night he dreamt of Her Durchlaucht. From the day when we left our home. From when we left the comforts of food, shelter, hearth and warmth. Yet she was amongst us. Here in the Weald. Now.
Thank to @_bianca._.neve_ for her wonderful Warhammer Cosplay and agreeing to be part of my Warden’s story.
And thanks to @strangeanimalsphoto for allowing me to make a collage with his wonderful photography.
Go check their accounts for the full impact of both the character and their efforts.
The Troll was about to move. The night was dark. The Wardens asleep. When suddenly the air was filled with yet another smell. A threatening, dangerous smell. That of the one even the Troll himself feared. The Eyeless had also sensed the new arrivals. And he loved to hunt. And he didn’t tolerate anything in the way. Once he choose the prey his hunt began. And it seemed he was about to choose.
Gnarl! They call me. Curse! Craw! There’s new Wardens arriving. New hunters of the cursed. Will tell the Troll. Nice cart they have. What’s inside I wonder? Craw!
Heavy and slow the footsteps went. The dry grass was rustling. The soil resonated. Disturbed by a waltz of two feet and a hand. Bump bump bump – bump bump bump. A single glowing point of white in each eye, the Troll was attracted by what the Craw had whispered to his ear. Wardens. With swords and crossbows. He could smell the metal. But also the flesh of men and horse. Yet he hesitated. The sun was still too bright. These will sleep soon. Let’s wait for the night and the cold.
When finally the moonless night swallowed all hope and fears grew, the Troll was still standing and watching. The Wardens have looked at him several times, wondering how strange that stone looked and whether it had been there all the time. But whatever kept them from investigating was now disturbing their dreams. And the Troll watched.
Didn‘t you know that you should never sneak up like that to a man handling a sword? Yes, Chramulf, that’s my name. No, I‘m not nervous. Why should I be? Did you talk to the crossbows before? Sounds like you have. No, no lootin‘ here. Now, go your way.
By the time it was clear to Aigulf and Chramulf that the nonsense the crossbows said was impacting the retinue. Even Grimoald seemed to be affected. For now they didn’t care much. The booze was safely hidden in the cart. And they were prepared to defend it against any Gnarl coming their way. And against anyone else. Gnarl or not.
Hey! You! Don’t you dare touching that bag!Chramulf, watch out. This guy is after the booze!
The Witch of the Weald already felt it. There was a subtle fear crawling through the earth. She could almost taste it. New souls.