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 CS Inquisition Marienburg: Murder Most Foul

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Phlegm

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PostSubject: CS Inquisition Marienburg: Murder Most Foul   Tue 18 Oct - 17:39:47

CS Inquisition Marienburg: Murder Most Foul

Well no one looking for us could have missed us for a while as we emerged from the sewers emitting a fragrance that could strip wallpaper.* We got cleaned up and returned to our quarters fixed on the idea of some healing and then departure. A message awaited us from our Lord General who had found time to write to us from his confinement.

*Though this was of course an improvement for Borri

He did not comment on his plight but instead ordered that we forsake him and pursue the child’s crusade into the Empire.* We were to regard this as the only concern, the priority to the loyal inquisitor had to be the well being of the Empire and its countless citizens who depended on us to selflessly place service of the Emperor at the centre of our priorities. The slightest delay could be costly; the child had left days before bound for Altdorf. The fate of nations could hang on a moment’s indecision.

*Gizbert, possibly drawing on personal experience made some unkind and uncalled for remarks involving the phenomenon of the bitch in certain penal institutions

So we decided to spend a couple of days sight seeing and shopping* around historic Marienburg, Gateway to the Reik. We also enjoyed the ministrations of the local health service, which was so efficient that Borri was only with difficulty dissuaded from kidnapping one of the local doctors.**

*Beatrice insisted

**60 pence for an excellent wound repair service: it wasn’t a bad idea at that


We set off at last on the Middenheim road, our bone picker’s cart groaning with provisions and trade goods, fresh good imperial crowns once more weighting our purses after suffering days of being stuffed with heretical heathen coinage. Our route took us through the great forest, and I kept my axe close as the daemon husks crowded the roadside threateningly.

As we proceeded back into the welcoming arms of the Empire, we noted that some of the wooden daemons were adorned with wanted posters. Curiously those sought bore an uncanny resemblance to myself, Gizbert and Beatrice. We resolved to grow beards / shave*at the earliest opportunity lest we should be mistaken for these villainous fraudsters.

*Beatrice made no comment on her plans

As we proceeded further along the highway of daemonic horror, we were challenged by a heavily armoured pistolier. No highwayman, this sentinel explained carefully to us the dangers of failing to accompany him when he had us flanked by two football teams worth of crossbowmen.

We agreed that to quarrel with so many quarrel bearers was foolish and graciously acquiesced to the request for us to follow to a nearby Michelle Pfeiffer* related village that lay on our heading any way. There, we would no doubt clear up the trivial misunderstanding that had placed us as criminal suspects, or failing that we could be decently and swiftly executed.**

*As usual Geoff was easing his life’s many frustrations with the comforting image of his all time favourite piece of totti, having already snapped his fork on a particularly tough piece of chicken curry

**Larry continued to ingratiate himself with his comrades by repeatedly enquiring as to his eligibility for some or preferably all of the thirty crown reward promised by the posters


Our escort were a strange bunch: Our relatively genial captor chatted amiably about the recent visit of the child’s crusade which had it seemed taken a sizable percentage of the local populace with it when it left. It also seemed that some people had been severely affected in other ways: A manic depressive amongst our guards was to be only the first evidence of that.*

*Who names their horse ‘Tragedy’ any way?

Entering the village we witnessed arguments still going on between its citizens over the child and were asked by a passer by if we had seen a missing pet rat…puzzling times. We arrived and were interviewed in connection with a miscellany of fraudulent offences, to which we responded with protestations of our innocence, affirming our identity as loyal members of the Inquisition. We also noticed that the slippery Gizbert had slipped away, infact no one had seen him since just before our capture.*

*He can smell the filth a mile off

And then, weirdness ensued: Rather than locking us up whilst they investigated our story, they set us the alternative option of investigating the theft of a chicken, provided that we gave up our weapons. No brainer! We agreed to investigate this heinous crime and see just what the frag was going on here. We were assigned a dwarf as our liaison. Oh well every silver lining has a cloud.

Visiting the house of the victim, we passed another where villagers were working on a bucket chain for reasons that would not become any clearer later. This was the home of local prosperous Baker Herr Schmidt, recently deceased following a fatal case of suicide. Clearly a matter of lesser import than the ruthless theft of a valuable chicken.

The villager callously deprived of one of her favourite chickens turned out to be a woman the size of a small elephant. She grudgingly let us search the chicken coop area and we picked up a trail that led via a piece of damaged fencing, into adjoining land owned by an old man who was apparently half deaf and blind. On the fence we found some purple threads which we bagged up CSI style.*

*In a used handkerchief supplied by our recycling expert Bea.

We carried this trophy off in triumph, leaving the scowling chicken herder to her no doubt intensive regimen of eating marathons. We enquired about the suicide from some by standing yokels and got mixed reviews. It seemed there had been arguments between the baker and his good lady culminating in the unfortunate event. We made an official request for access to the body but our impression was that this would not be readily permitted.

Further investigations turned up another piece of purple cloth on the blind man’s land. This was clearly part of a coat of arms, perhaps from a fine tunic. No one we could find could recognise it, especially the blind and deaf man, WITH WHOM WE HAD A VERY CONFUSING CONVERSATION THAT WAS ALMOST ENTIRELY MISUNDERSTOOD AND LEFT US NONE THE WISER.*

*Pretty much like all our conversations really

Moving on, we ended up in the village tavern, ostensibly because it was here that we could get the pie that had been the price of the blind man’s assistance.* We quizzed the Brettonnian resident chef and one or two patrons including the barman, who enquired if we had seen his missing pet dog. Interesting, the third missing small animal, but what was the connection? What was hunting small easily captured tame fauna? The thefts seemed to have happened after the departure of the crusade and half the villagers, but there must be a link. Surely?

*But you know we would have found some other excuse eventually

The village bailiff arrived as we departed, but Borri heroically decided to stay behind and ensure that not too much beer fell into the wrong throats.* He spent the rest of the day testing the limits of his alcohol capacity in company of the said bailiff, who told some interesting drunken tales when beer loosened his tongue. This included some suspicious activities on the part of his reeve, seen patrolling in off duty hours.

*Anyone’s but his

We went to visit the new widow with a moderately priced bottle of wine with which to toast her late husband.* The good Frau welcomed us in and confessed to us her guilt that her husband had hung himself after they had argued over the child. However, our astute inquisitorial eyes discerned evidence that the hanging had been assisted by others, casting the story in a new light. When we showed the coat of arms to her, Frau Schmidt failed to recognise it, but did remark that her husband had shown a recent interest in heraldry and had intended to research the matter at the local library.

*Cremation is regarded as too extreme in these parts

This reminded our very own Detective Beatrice that Jurgen had also been showing an interest in heraldry shortly before his untimely demise. The good lady of the house mentioned that the village bailiff had sealed her husband’s study after pronouncing the case closed, but had hinted he would send someone to look it over later. She also revealed that the local Sigmarite priest, a friend of her husbands, had left with the crusade.

We were quite happy to fill the role of the unpleasant bailiff’s agents and spent several hours searching the study. We came up with a receipt for a sleeping potion, but not the potion bottle, empty or otherwise; a prayer to the child, typical of the output of the child’s followers, which we had seen most frequently in the form of graffiti throughout the village; and lastly a letter confirming her husband’s impending access to the heraldic section of the local library.

Mysteries to resolve:

Whose crest is the Coat of Arms? It’s not the local big cheese but surely he must be onside with whatever’s going on otherwise he’d be a threat.
Who killed the Baker and why? Is it because both he and Jurgen were investigating the coat of arms that they were killed? If so, why, when they were both apparently in the pro child faction?
Why are we wanted persons? Who have we worried so much, and how stupid are they?

Why are we being allowed to investigate anything if there is a risk that we are so dangerous? They could have locked us up, put us in the stocks or simply killed us all. (Except sadly, slippery Gizbert of Scousenburg.)
What has the child done to those people who seem mentally affected?
What is he going to do with the ones who followed him?

Why are small animals disappearing and frankly why should we care?
How did Frau Gertrude get so fat?
We know the bailiff is involved, but how deep, or is he just unbelievably incompetent?
What is the role of the mathematician who runs the library?

Just how appetising is the Pigeon Pie at the Wet Your Whistle?
Will Lord General Neuman ever risk picking up that bar of soap?
How does that idiot blind guy keep going when he is SO F*CKING DEAF?

How come I had to pay 4 schillings towards the bottle of wine for Frau Schmidt just because the dwarf was too busy getting blind drunk?
Is there some sort of malevolent mental control still affecting some in the village?
Who is behind whatever is going on here?

When will the daemon husks attack?
How does this tie in with our mission to stop the child bringing the kiss of Nurgle to our beloved homeland?
And finally, what happened to Greta the Chicken?

For the answers to all this, probably best to buy the book or steal it from Geoff rather than wait for this bunch to find out…


16.10.11



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Lord Payne

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PostSubject: Re: CS Inquisition Marienburg: Murder Most Foul   Wed 19 Oct - 18:55:24

And if it wasn't for those pesky kids I would have got away with it
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Lord Payne

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PostSubject: Re: CS Inquisition Marienburg: Murder Most Foul   Wed 19 Oct - 18:56:16

Suggest you look at your handouts at the beginning of next session. You may find a clue staring you in the face....I did mention this campaign does require you to actually use the handouts
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