[Warhammer Fantasy] The Thousand Thrones

[DarK_RaideR]

So I've been researching most of the morning and now want to read all of the Warhammer books. Looks right up my alley.  Anyone have any thoughts on where to begin??

 

Dark and gritty = my jam.  Human academic if you'll have me!

The serious wiki

 

The real deal. Funny cause it's true

 

No need to go deep into the History, Geography and Races of the world. An understanding of the basic concepts and names should suffice, along with a map of the Empire and a short read of what everyday is like in that place.

 

The dice gods gave you

Noble

To be one of the ruling classes seems - to the ordinary citizens of the Old World - to grant the right to live a life removed from the cares and struggles of ordinary men. Nobles control the land and many have had the sense to involve themselves in matters of commerce, in competition with bankers and financiers. However, the younger sons of noble families frequently have to fend for themselves when their elder brothers take over the family fortune and estates, since one of the major preoccupations of the noble class seems to be to cause untold harm to other members, even to those from one's own family. Many disinherited nobles turn to military life or adventuring for the excitement, certainly, but many more do so because they wouldn't know what else to do. Certainly none of them would lower themselves to practice a trade and few would tolerate the boredom of study for an academic profession. They see war as a great and glorious game and they view getting drunk, insulting commoners, and wrecking restaurants in much the same light. Nobles tend to have a short attention span, an irritating accent, and an unfailing ability to rub lesser mortals up the wrong way, but they nearly always manage to sail through life almost unscathed owing to a combination of luck, charm, and the deference which their free-spending manner tends to generate in tradesmen.

The player who rolls up Noble as a Basic career has not actually gained any major advantage over his fellows. The extra money is useful, the horse and the armour will make life less taxing and hazardous, and one can safely assume those skills that mean the character will never use the wrong fork at dinner. It does not mean that the character is rich or that he or she has land or a castle somewhere. Much more likely, the character is some younger son or daughter of a moderately wealthy Graf or Knight who has given up hope of ever inheriting the big money and who is certainly not going to soil his or her hands with anything so demeaning as work.

Generally, the attitude of the population towards the imperial aristocracy is publicly servile and privately scornful. The in-breeding of certain families, the incompetence of many individuals, and the haughty indifference of the whole class has made many enemies. But their power is considerable, based on their almost exclusive right to hold land and most non-nobles - be they wealthy merchants or landless peasants - recognise that someone who can have you split in two for no reason is not someone to be cheeked...

emphasis on the underlined paragraph

or

Scribe

In a world where very few people are literate, the Scribe is very much in demand. Virtually all the guilds, civil and religious bodies, the legal profession, and the military require large numbers of Scribes for their record-keeping, while at the other end of the scale there are the simple public Scribes who make a living by reading documents or writing for the common folk. So rare is their talent that many are virtually enslaved by their masters. It is often the case that Scribes who run away to escape this servitude will take on the dangerous life of the adventurer just to hide their past completely.

 

My humble oppinion, noble offers some great RP chances but might be a bit rough for a new player. Still, if you pick it, I'll try to make all the etiquette and history as light as possible. Scribe seems simpler and will add much knowledge skills that the party seems to be lacking. Ultimately, it's your choice

[shaar]

Man, I could play a good noble, but if my character is a dick to people it just makes me feel bad personally aaahhh empathy. ;______;  I'll go scribe and be a little kinder on myself (since I'm a noob too!)

[Wild Wolf]

Being a dick coulda been fun lol. You coulda been the groups Stifler

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[Wild Wolf]

Btw- My characters name will be Lanric Krugen [emoji106]ðŸ»[emoji123]ðŸ»

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[shaar]

Being a dick coulda been fun lol. You coulda been the groups Stifler

 

 

HAHAHA!!!

 

I really did consider it because I have experience playing not-so-nice folks but... ugh I just feel bad as a person talking down to well meaning people jeez I need a heart of stone.  It's one thing if I'm writing with myself because then all bets are off but other people's stuff... ech it's hard.

 

That plus my world knowledge is currently minimal (although tomorrow is Reading Day), so better not to stress myself??

[Wild Wolf]

HAHAHA!!!

I really did consider it because I have experience playing not-so-nice folks but... ugh I just feel bad as a person talking down to well meaning people jeez I need a heart of stone. It's one thing if I'm writing with myself because then all bets are off but other people's stuff... ech it's hard.

That plus my world knowledge is currently minimal (although tomorrow is Reading Day), so better not to stress myself??

I hear ya man- do what your comfortable with. I almost didn't do warrior cuz I knew it was cliche for MYSELF to pick that class- but I took a chance with the dice for a good class *cough* Pit Fighter *cough*. Cuz I wanna make a warrior character with depth- not just hack/slash and repeat... Though that can be fun

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[shaar]

I hear ya man- do what your comfortable with. I almost didn't do warrior cuz I knew it was cliche for MYSELF to pick that class- but I took a chance with the dice for a good class *cough* Pit Fighter *cough*. Cuz I wanna make a warrior character with depth- not just hack/slash and repeat... Though that can be fun

 

Oh, TOTALLY would have gone with pit fighter.  

[Wild Wolf]

All I see now is a Gannicus type gladiator character and it's making me happy! #Spartacus #ManShow #GodsOfTheArena #RomanOrgiesWereWild

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[cn3wton]

I'm a rat catcher, I'm not proud. Lol

[hwrdfrnd]

Damn WFRP is my favorite, have fun

[shaar]

I'm a rat catcher, I'm not proud. Lol

 

You are straight keeping it real.

 

[SjardisDead]

Can't wait for your adventure to start!
 

I'm a rat catcher, I'm not proud. Lol

But you totaly should, hunting down the little brothers of this things

takes some serious balls
 

So I've been researching most of the morning and now want to read all of the Warhammer books. Looks right up my alley. Anyone have any thoughts on where to begin??

Dark and gritty = my jam. Human academic if you'll have me!

I am more into 40k rather than the fantasy version but the Gotrek & Felix series has pretty good reviews and it's not that expensive (if you can live with used).

[DarK_RaideR]

CHAPTER I - THE CALL OF CHAOS

 

Our story begins in the vast port of Marienburg, on the southwestern shore of the Empire. Straddling the River Reik where it drains the Empire heartland out to the Sea of Claws, it is a bright spot in an otherwise forlorn and wretched landscape. The city itself rises from the fetid swamp that typifies the Wasteland, that gloomy march between the impenetrable Drakwald Forest and the immense Pale Sisters. With the regular rains, sucking mires, and the strange breed of peasants that make their living trawling the dark waters of the countryside, reaching the grand city can sometimes be a feat in itself.

A visitor to Marienburg can quickly be overwhelmed by the sheer size of this metropolis, with its innumerable islands, canals, and labyrinthine streets. So large is the city that many of its denizens rarely venture beyond their own districts, and can only speculate about what happens on the other side of the city. Since space is so scarce, with each island so crowded with buildings that they almost seem piled on top of one another, one can hardly blame the locals for staying put. Anyone wishing to get anywhere in the city must cough up a few coins to pay for passage on one of the canals. Certainly, one could get where they want to go on foot, but the streets are so narrow, so twisting, it’s easy to get lost, swallowed whole by a city that always hungers for fresh meat. Thus the canals are the main thoroughfares and the murky waters, glistening with the oily sheen of filth, are filled with skiffs, rowboats, sailing ships, and even galleons come to pass through the city and venture onwards to Altdorf or even as far as Nuln. Crisscrossing the canals at various points are any number of bridges. Some are simple paths no wider than a grown man, whilst others are grand things, towering over the waters to allow the tall masts of trading ships bound for the inland. Nearly all bridges provide additional space for living, selling, and buying and so such structures are normally crowded with merchants, peddlers, and shoppers. There are only two exceptions. The first being the Niederbrug Bridge, which links High Tower, the seat of political power, and the rest of the islands that make up the city. No shops or structures of any kind are permitted here lest they interfere with the lifeblood of commerce or stop the Black Hats from crushing yet another riot in the Doodkanaal. The other bridge is the Draaienbrug Swing Bridge, which demonstrates the city’s ingenuity when it comes to engineering, for it swivels on a central pillar to allow ships of any size to pass. Obviously, a mobile bridge is not the safest place for buildings, to which many ruins deposited in the river can testify.

Marienburg is divided into twenty wards, discrete political entities that elect their own committees, pass by-laws, levy taxes, and govern the people living within their bounds. You have found yourself in The Winkelmarkt, one of the larger wards in Marienburg and home to the city’s lower middle class. Much of its commerce involves the boat-building trade, but there’s also a thriving foodstuff trade—the district is known for its delicious sausages. Caught between the appalling wretchedness of the Doodkanaal to the south and the declining ports of the Suiddock, Winkelmarkt slides inexorably toward poverty as the ward decays and the more successful types flee to the northern reaches of the city. Locals do their best to maintain their homes, but the signs of decay are everywhere—rotting wood, missing shingles, and the growing mounds of rubbish filling the alleys. To make matters worse, the Winkelmarkt shouldered much of the burden of housing the people of the Empire, creating tensions between the entrenched Marienburgers and the frightened, penniless, and devastated refugees. The Winkelmarkt is normally more crowded than anywhere else in Marienburg. Outside of the main thoroughfares, the streets are typically so cramped that not even wagons can navigate them. Buildings often share sidewalls, and many are built on top of older buildings, such that most structures have an almost ramshackle appearance, sagging into one another and leaning at uncomfortable angles. During the Chaos Incursion and for months after, the Winkelmarkt had been packed with people. Every flophouse, boarding house, and inn had been filled near to bursting with folk desperate to find a new life here. They were only to find, as their money ran out, the embrace of the Doodkanaal and the misfits and destitute living there. Despair sank in and a pall fell over the ward as landlords tossed out people who couldn’t afford the price of lodging. Tensions rose and riots became common. Then came the Crusade and gathered the dispossessed and the desperate. As one they marched out of the misery of their adopted home, leaving behind their dashed hopes and returning the crowded streets to the Marienburgers who never wanted them there in the first place

 

You are, as mentioned, assistants of a fairly well known and dangerous witch hunter named Roderick. Having come to Marienburg to find a renegade wizard, the witch hunter was more than a little surprised to find the city giving birth to a new and fanatic cult of Sigmar called “The Crusade of the Child” which claims to have found Sigmar himself reborn as a child and marches to the capital, Altdorf, with unknown purpose. Since he’s committed to tracking down his refugee, the witch hunter ordered you to follow up on this mob and find out anything you can about the Crusade, its origins, and the identity and history of this boy. Lodging is free thanks to the intimidation factor of your employer, but other than that you have been left to fend for yourselves with nothing but a parchment recognizing the bearers as instruments of the Witch Hunter’s will. You know this will come in handy but will also need to be kept a secret at times.

 

An unofficial lieutenant of Roderick and possibly now the leader of the group, the man from Araby has been with the Witch Hunter longer than any of you. It sparks your interest how the two men met, not to mention fell into this working relationship, but so far you have managed to learn nothing. The Arab usually deals with the nastier side of your holy mission, which doesn’t make him the most popular member of your group. You may not like his methods or his morals, but you all recognize the need for his skills.

 

The elf is a mysterious one, like most of his kind. A master of the wilds, whether looking for a way to follow or a way to keep you alive away from civilization. He is a skilled horseman and unmatched hunter, using bow, net and rope with deadly efficiency, no matter if he’s after man or beast. Other than those, he keeps a weapon on his side and a shield on his back for when things get more intimate.

 

Lanric Krugen is as loud and rowdy as any pit fighter you’ve ever met or heard of. You’ve heard tales of Roderick buying him off his former masters once he witnessed his combat prowess, but having seen him in action, you wouldn’t be surprised if a cult of the chaos blood god, Khorne, was involved somewhere in the narrative. He is dressed for business, the only one among you wearing mail armor over his leather vest. A large weapon is strapped on his back, a few smaller ones hang around his belt and you’re pretty sure there’s a dagger in at least one of his boots. During the last tavern brawl he started, you noticed him using some knuckle dusters he pulled out of a pocket and even if he wasn’t armed to the teeth, you’re pretty sure he could wrestle a bear and kill it with his bare hands.

 

The scribe is a different story. Clearly the most educated of your gang, has served as a de facto advisor to Roderick and will definitely be priceless now that the Witch Hunter is gone. Also a member of the Scribes’ Guild, something which might come in handy when dealing with the mercantile middle class, scholars or nobles

 

And then there’s the dwarf. And his dog. He insists it’s a dog, although you have your doubts. He has taken his racial affinity for underground places and moved to the big cities, working as a rat catcher. He even carries a cage on a stick, filled with some of the greatest specimen he has exterminated. In case someone’s still unconvinced, he also smells like the sewers. What bothers you mostly is that he’s extremely hardy, even for a dwarf, which means if things go south but you don’t all die, he’ll be the first thing you’ll be seeing when you come to.

 

Charged with investigating the origins of the Crusade, all five of you begin your inquiries in the Winkelmarkt, the ward where the movement was born. As you set out, you see that the streets are uncommonly empty, almost deserted in some areas, while in other places citizens struggle to repair buildings damaged by the zealous crowds. Even more startling in a city where land is at such a premium are the rows of abandoned houses stripped of furnishings. Already, gangs and unscrupulous locals squat in these buildings, though several stand untouched. Since you don’t have a clue, you recon that your best chance is to catch up to the local gossip and get a hint that’ll get you going towards the right direction

 

Optional quest: Challenge your terror of talking to people and try to strike up a conversation with a complete stranger!

 

Waiting for everyone's RP posts and then the story will continue with what you've found out. Welcome and let's get this party started!

[Wild Wolf]

I'm a rat catcher, I'm not proud. Lol

I can't wait to see your character come to life- it's gonna be a great RP to get into.

I'm actually really excited to see everyone's character [emoji106]ðŸ»[emoji106]ðŸ»

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[Wild Wolf]

*out of character*

Question, everyone? Should we give character descriptions before we start the actually RP. I'm talking about more hair color, build, etc.

I was just thinking it might make it easier to involve the others knowing more specific traits.

Here's Lanric's just in case:

Height: 6'2

Weight: 215

Hair color: Reddish gold

eye color: blue

Noticeable features: short cropped hair, beard matching his hair color, numerous scars (obvious reason), and walks with a slight limp due to a injury in a fight, though this doesn't effect him when he runs, and the top part of his left hear is missing... Looks to of been bitten off??

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[cn3wton]

 

Got my rat stick ready. Formulating my post now, if I overstep anything or completely muss up let me know.

[shaar]

[OOC]

 

Name: Yusra "Yussie" Al-Khatabi

Race: Arabyan

Hometown: Lashiek

Height: 5'2"

Weight 110

Hair: Black

Eyes: Hazel/gold

Noticeable features: Many thin leather-like wrap bracelets line her left forearm.  Numerous sprawling black tattoos across her back, usually unseen, and never talked about.  Her eyes are very narrow, and her skin color borders on a dark bronze.

[cn3wton]

OOC (of course) 

 

So i have been trying to find stuff on rat catchers online with minimal success. I think I can kind of figure it out though.

 

I have no idea how tall dwarves are, like 4-5 feet? I don't know. Hes average height.

 

He has a scruffy beard and a very poorly shaved skull, which he cuts on  his own. He has brown eyes. He wears rags.

 

His name is Ziegel, just ziegel. Dogs name is dusty.

 

Hes not very talkative, if anything the dog is better with people than he is. I plan to have my post up when I get home from work tonight. Should be slow so gonna think about it.

 

Am I going to have to draw this guy? Probably...

[shaar]

Claustrophobic.

 

Yussie has a little game she plays in her mind when things start to get away from her.  Pick one word, just one, that best describes her current situation, or how she is feeling right now.  She imagines her slender fingers draping the start of the C, curving it like the long neck of an elegant waterfowl as she takes a tentative step out from under the ramshackle awning that had been shielding her from most of the Winkelmarkt.

 

This place was so bizarre, like nothing she had ever seen before.  It reminded her of some oddity that might pop up in one of the Arabyan folklores - buildings crammed up against each other, structures as tall as they were wide, varying doors and windows placed seemingly akimbo.  Interesting sort of folk everywhere, some walking with a strange gait and muttering to themselves, others roaming in small packs talking in hushed tones.  Tiny alleyways shrouded in black with who-knows-what hidden inside, the occasional crash and yowl of some type of unseen street animal.  It would have all seemed very silly and eccentric if there hadn’t been a subtle blanket of depression and malaise hanging over the area, covering everything in sight with a greyish haze.  And it was still very...

 

Claustrophobic.

 

Yussie frowned, imagining her hand scripting the fine and tall slant of the letter l, tall like the willowy trees that lined the waterfront of her hometown.

 

How could such a pretty looking word feel so horrible?

 

The past few weeks had been just as surreal as this situation - she’d hardly believed it when she had stumbled across the cryptic note in a bottle - surely it had been meant for someone else! - until it had dawned on her that she was the only one in the compound at the present moment that could read. If it was meant for someone else they had surely long since passed, and survival meant no opportunity could afford to go wasted.  She had kept the message close to her chest for nearly a week, waiting, going about her duties and trying to act normal while her brain whirled at the possibility of the trap.  Had they contracted someone else to write this to trick her?  Would there be Hashishin waiting to ambush her as she struggled to escape the mountains?  Yussie finally steeled herself one evening - stolen from one land, she was determined to liberate herself to another.

 

Another loud crash pulled her back into the present moment and her body went rigid for a moment, golden eyes widening - how long had she been daydreaming?  Best not to get caught unawares in these parts, it seemed truly everything was at stake.  Yussie tightened the dilapidated brown cloak around her slim form; she had come upon it discarded in an alleyway on her way here and it didn’t smell like rotting flesh or equally unsavory things, so the plan of dressing herself like one of the locals pulled through.  Interestingly enough though, her main concern seemed assauged - whether from sun exposure or just lack of regimented bathing, her darker skin color did not seem so out of place here.

 

Time to get to work.

 

Light footfalls carried her out into the mostly deserted old cobblestone street.  She would plan to keep to herself, keeping up the facade that she was perfectly comfortable here, that she belonged, until an opportunity presented itself. Easy enough, she was generally skilled at adapting to whatever the situation called for. Yussie found it it heavily ironic that her personal trials over the last few years would actually benefit her at this very moment - ironic, yes, yet not enough to crack a rueful grin on her stony features.  Not yet.

 

She rounded a corner into what seemed like some sort of ramshackle vagrants market.  Rickety tables were set up on both sides of the street for about a block with people trying to barter homemade wares or foodstuffs for anything useful from passerby and hagglers.  Making herself right at home, Yussie slowly strolled through the makeshift shops and eventually came to a stop leaning against a dilapidated pillar, careful to keep her face hidden from view as she honed in on other’s conversations, hoping to glean some information.

 

The ‘a’ in claustrophobic curved, like a flying carpet doing loops over a summer festival.

 

“... Won’t give yeh more than two coin fer tha’...â€

 

“... Thievin’ dirty crook... back a’ me mum’s this never woulda’ ‘appened... “

 

“ ... Just a simple fealty, honest...â€

 

One eyebrow quirked and Yussie shifted gently against the pillar, trying to subtly adjust her position to get a better view of the speaker.  A young man leaned over one of the tables, dressed drably but interestingly fresh of face with a winning smile, speaking to an older woman that seemed delightedly flustered by his presence.  She struggled to catch his words as patrons at a nearby table started haggling over a loaf of bread quite loudly, and managed to pick up ‘family security’ before the haggling nearly turned into an all-out brawl, vagrants rushing in from all sides to pull apart bloodthirsty shoppers.

 

Yussie sighed as she glanced back to her mark - the young man was nowhere to be seen and the woman was eyeing her suspiciously, so she bowed her head and turned away from the fracas, heading back the way she came. Better than nothing at least; pretty people offering security and safety to hugely desperate people.  But why?  The possibilities were surely endless, and she pursed her lips together thoughtfully, warily picking her way back to the inn for the day to ruminate on her findings.

[SjardisDead]

OOC (of course) 

 

So i have been trying to find stuff on rat catchers online with minimal success. I think I can kind of figure it out though.

 

I have no idea how tall dwarves are, like 4-5 feet? I don't know. Hes average height.

 

He has a scruffy beard and a very poorly shaved skull, which he cuts on  his own. He has brown eyes. He wears rags.

 

His name is Ziegel, just ziegel. Dogs name is dusty.

 

Hes not very talkative, if anything the dog is better with people than he is. I plan to have my post up when I get home from work tonight. Should be slow so gonna think about it.

 

Am I going to have to draw this guy? Probably...

 

Good guess with the height, the average dwarf is estimated to be at approximately 4'5"-5'0".

And I am sure you already found this pictures but if not maybe they will help you a bit

I am sure as well you already found the big wiki entries, but since there is more than one wiki I will just drop a two here. One that containse informations about their physical and mental characteristics and this one covers their society and language.

[cn3wton]

Ziegel shuffled through the city as he followed his trusted companion Dusty. The Rat Catcher was a simple minded man and wanted little from life. His only true care being the dog. Many a night passed where he went hungry, this was rarely the case for his trusted canine. He was an average dwarf, no taller nor shorter than any other. Dark black hair chopped back crudely near to the skin upon his head; beard matted and filled with filth. His clothing where but rags, stitched together remnants of nearly a dozen different materials, all a filthy gray due to wear and filth. Bare feet kissed the ground as he went, small scraps wrapped about his feet where they where prone to split. He carried two sacks over his right shoulder, one held the tools of his trade, the other what few belongings he had. In his left he carried his stick, with a small cage holding the bones of long since dead vermin, symbolizing who, and what he was.

 

Though perhaps the most notable thing about the man; the stench. The filth covered not only his clothing but his body as well. This however, was the job. A sweet smelling Rat Catcher caught few rats indeed.

 

Dusty, though somewhat fragrant, was generally in better form than his human companion. Due in part to the mans dutiful attendance to him. One of Ziegel's most prized possessions was a small comb he used to lovingly tend to his friend.

 

A wanderer, that is what he was. He did not think to the future, he trusted his companion to find them work and a safe place to rest. He cared for little else. Ziegel and Dusty had encountered the witch hunter and the others a short time ago. The dog had seemed to trust them so Ziegel followed, always taking his companions lead. Dusty had a better nose for people than Ziegel every would, and that bothered him none at all.

 

Most would find the lack of people odd, but such thoughts never formed in the mind of the Rat Catcher. He had been asked to listen for anything having to do with something going on in the city. Maybe a cult, he couldn't quite remember. Once in the city he followed Dusty, if there was anything to find he would lead him to it. Parting from the group was not difficult for the man. He would follow his only true companion, and if he never saw the others again it would bother him not at all. He never thought that far ahead, or behind.

 

There where signs of infestation all around. Quickly Dusty picked up a trail and Ziegel followed. A rat skittered before them and the dog followed. Even though he could easily have killed the vermin, what was one rat when it could lead to an entire nest. He followed, head down, for quite some time before reaching a small storeroom behind an even smaller tavern. Without a thought he pushed open the door, watching as the rat fled to the darkness within.  He smiled a toothy grin and turned to the alley and into the tavern.

 

He approached the bar, a woman stood before it. She looked at him, his stench hitting her like a wave. She covered her nose, and upon noticing his trophy cage spoke "I aint got money to pay no rat catcher."

 

Ziegel looked down to his faithful companion, as if contemplating what to say. "Drink during, food after." 

 

The woman twisted her face trying to decipher his meaning, when she figured it out she smiled. "Fine, one mead now, bread and cheese once the job is done." Ziegel nodded. Arrangements made he returned to the small store room. He began by investigating the contents. Bags and boxes of different goods, and kegs piled in the corner. He could see numerous signs of feeding and infestation. The nest certainly lied beneath the large stack of kegs. He drew his traps from within the sack and placed them around the room. Each different from the other, made by Ziegel himself from scraps and bone. Once set he drew his last piece of food from within the folds of his clothing. His stomach rumbled, but the thought of eating it never even crossed his mind. He quickly baited each trap and returned to his drink.

 

The woman held out a flaggon, and as politely as she could she asked that he enjoy it away from the other guests. He nodded, and sat himself next to the empty firepit nearest the door. Sitting upon the floor he sipped his reward like it was the fast drink he was ever to get. Every so often he would set it down at his side so that Dusty could enjoy it as well. The dog would lap it up for a time before stopping, Ziegel's sign that it was his turn to drink. This drew numerous stares from the patrons. As he sat enjoying the brew he listened to the others speak. Mostly vague whispers, common to a city, though the words chaos and cult seemed to be tossed around a bit. Once he finished his drink he stood and returned the now empty flaggon to the bar. 

 

Each of the traps held a prize, Ziegel deftly removed them from each one, placing them in his sack for future use. Once each trap was within his sack he began the task of rolling each of the large barrels away. Dusty tensed and prepared to catch any that would flee, Ziegel holding his stick, the cage now removed ready to strike. As he reached the last two barrels a dark blur darted from behind. Dusty lept upon it in and instant. Ziegel smiled "Good Dust."

 

Returning his attention to the barrels he rolled one aside, revealing the nest. He quickly destroyed it, and its tiny occupants. Ziegel did not enjoy killing the rats, but it did not bother him either. 

 

For the final time he returned to the woman at the bar, opening the sack revealing its new occupants. She visibly squirmed and stepped back after inspecting it. "Yes yes very good. Now take ya bread n cheese and get them outa here." She motioned to a small ball of cloth upon the bar. He scooped it into his hands, bowed his head to the lady and set out the door. Once a few blocks away Dusty stopped, looked around, then laid underneath a great arch providing shade on the path below. Ziegel set himself down and inspected his reward. A decent loaf of bread and cheese with but a bit of mold on one side. He quickly tore each in half and wrapped some in the cloth again. He then seperated the remaining halves for himself and his dog. He placed the dogs quarter at his paws, then Ziegel began to nibble at his own. Once their meal was done they set off again, in a direction of Dusty's choosing. 

[Balthazar]

Is the idea that my dog can sniff out crime not enough? Lol.

And the translation works I guess.

 

there was a big German TV show back in the day about a dog who solved crimes called Commissar Rex

[Balthazar]

HAHAHA!!!

 

I really did consider it because I have experience playing not-so-nice folks but... ugh I just feel bad as a person talking down to well meaning people jeez I need a heart of stone.  It's one thing if I'm writing with myself because then all bets are off but other people's stuff... ech it's hard.

 

That plus my world knowledge is currently minimal (although tomorrow is Reading Day), so better not to stress myself??

 

sometimes the sweetest people make the best bad guys! Like people who play bad guys in movies, the ones who play the best bad guys are super nice in real life

 

 

I'm a rat catcher, I'm not proud. Lol

 

if the rats are skaven though that's pretty hard core, some of them are huge frankenstein style rats, the size of houses made up of sewn together skin and filled with smaller rats, dark magic and the warhammer equivalent of nuclear waste

[Balthazar]

OOC (of course) 

 

So i have been trying to find stuff on rat catchers online with minimal success. I think I can kind of figure it out though.

 

I have no idea how tall dwarves are, like 4-5 feet? I don't know. Hes average height.

 

He has a scruffy beard and a very poorly shaved skull, which he cuts on  his own. He has brown eyes. He wears rags.

 

His name is Ziegel, just ziegel. Dogs name is dusty.

 

Hes not very talkative, if anything the dog is better with people than he is. I plan to have my post up when I get home from work tonight. Should be slow so gonna think about it.

 

Am I going to have to draw this guy? Probably...

 

if you can get it, take a read of the Warhammer Book 'Skaven Slayer' - it's all about rat catching, dwarves and skaven

 

And it's one of the most popular warhammer literary series to boot

[Balthazar]

[OOC]

 

Name: Sahra'a'Saif

Race: Arabyan

Hometown: Al-Haikk

Height: 5'5"

Weight 180

Hair: Black

Eyes: Cobalt Blue

Noticeable features: By day immaculately garbed and groomed, tailored clothes of costly materials fitting perfectly to his form. The layering of robes and material providing a variety of places to hide small weapons, vials and trinkets.

 

When 'at work' dresses like a flashier version of the Persian Immortals in 300. Black robes with a deep hood, silver death mask and something akin to a tactical vest festooned with weapons and useful items