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Dec 10

Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay

After a thoroughly enjoyable conversation with my friend Aiden today I’ve had a surge of inspiration, spurring me to continue the WFRP story I started with my friends some months ago.

I think I was initially selected to do the story not for my love of writing, my extensive knowledge of the subject or my willingness to do so; but for the fact that I had my own place in which everyone could stay up ’til stupid o’clock in the morning drinking mead and pretending to be dwarfs (which happened on many a glorious evening).

I really got into it too. I was writing the story weeks in advance of each session. Having never DMed before, I didn’t actually realize that just one small plothook I put into the story might take the majority of the evening to investigate/act out! As soon as I realized this I eased off a little bit and started to write at a more leisurely pace.

Though I can’t be certain, I’m pretty sure everyone was enjoying themselves. I got the occasional whinge from members of the group because I do so love a wee bit of silliness! As much as I really like the macabre edge that Warhammer can bring, I also really love the fact that in-amongst it all there are some things that are just plain funny; that being said I took every opportunity to exploit the fact.

Many a riotous giggle was had by all one evening when the group found themselves in the Altdorf sewers: a gargantuan labyrinth of stoneworked tunnels with a river of human effluence as deep as a man is tall and twice as wide running the length of it. I made the group pass constitution (or equivalent, I forget now) tests to see if their stomachs could withstand the foul stench. Any who failed immediately threw up everywhere. If just one person in the group threw up, everyone had to take an additional test with a minus modifier for having seen someone else throw up. Needless to say, things got very messy!

I’m going to be revising what I’ve already written and then be deciding whether to carry on what I was doing or whether to start a new story entirely.

This is roughly what had happened so far:

A pair of travellers: a Novitiate Knight of Bretonnia and an apprentice of the Bright College, were travelling toward the bustling epicenter of Old World trade, Marienburg. On their way together, they happen upon a tradesman of the Empire; an amiable sort of chap if not altogether shifty. With the kind aire of one who’s travelled the world, seen the sights and amassed a wealth of knowledge the like that could keep a tavern-full of merry patrons entertained for hours, the tradesman flatly refused the travelling pair carriage upon his wagon and proceeded to carry on driving towards Marienburg alone.

Altogether dejected, the pair proceeded on their way when as if out of nowhere a savage group of goblin bandits led by a hideous, warted goblin chieftain assailed them from either side of the road. Tired, beaten, bruised and heavily outnumbered; the pair resigned themselves to their fate but were willing to take what dignity they could from a death in combat against the forces of evil.

Just when all was presumed lost, a guttural orange blur hurtled from the foliage and set about cleaving the goblin horde into thinly sliced green pieces. It was a dwarf Slayer who as luck would have it (which it invariably does in RPGs) was tracking the goblin band and had been for days. Grateful to be saved, and with the sense to know a good thing when they saw it, the Novitiate and the apprentice offered the Slayer a hearty drink and many a perilous adventure filled with glory and riches if he were to kindly follow them to Marienburg. For you see, the pair had erstwhile been set upon a quest to retrieve a powerful arcane artifact which had previously been in the possession of a dark sorcerer in Tilea. The artifact was, to the best of their estimation, heavily guarded with all manner of magic wards and terrible beasts (which they made a point of informing the Slayer, lest he lose interest).

Out of the goodness of his wallet, the tradesman (who had been watching the fight from his wagon down the road, more to see if anyone would die and leave their coinpurses than to check on their welfare) had offered the group of wanderers carriage for the rest of their journey to Marienburg. He loudly exclaimed that, “it wasn’t safe to travel alone in these parts” clearly unaware of the daggers being stared into the back of his head by his companions.

After being filled in on the details of the quest, the tradesman decided to join them on their journey; not through bravery was the quest accepted, it just so happened that he’d lost his job, his wagon and ipso facto his livelihood not moments before. After an evening’s worth of free beer the shrude craftsman had decided of his own accord that there was more of it where that came from and had decided it his best course of action to tag along for the ride.

I won’t go into too much detail or you’ll all run off and try and sell the script and make a hit movie! I really just put this on here so the guys who took part in the story might have their memories jogged of the humble beginnings of the adventure to whet their appetites for more courageous voyaging!

Whilst writing this I’ve decided! I’m going to carry on the story I was originally writing! I was going to turn it into a book when it was done anyway; seems silly not to finish something once you’ve started it!

About the author

Mr Llamatastic

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