The Olde World League


It starts, harmlessly enough, with a play.

Having cobbled together a few pennies and with no “adventuring” to do, your group decides to pay a visit to the theatre, having heard that Sierck’s great masterpiece is being played there.

The performance is one of the greatest you have ever seen, even for those of you who have previously enjoyed the circumstances to frequent the theatre on a regular occasion, as Crown Prince Oswald’s plucky band plumbs the depths of the Great Enchanter’s fortress. You almost feel as if the shadows reach out toward the stage, grasping at the actors…

When the curtain finally rolls down, the applause is thunderous, carrying on for several bows, but all the while and well after everyone has finished, is one, slow sonerous clap, echoing through the darkness of the theatre house.

Life gets suddenly very interesting soon after, a Dark Elf Warband has managed to sneak through the Cursed Marshes undetected and now sails for Altdorf, slaughtering everything in it’s path. But as your group and various other Imperial forces close on your implacable enemy, they veer off their course towards the Imperial capital, and, upon a nameless patch of earth in sight of the Grey Mountains, butcher each other in a fantastic display of callous degeneracy. You find their corpses, protrate in some form of suplication towards the distant peaks. For a brief second you think you see… But no, it was nothing.

It seems you are not the only ones presented with bizarre behaviour by the enemies of mankind. A massive cult of Khorne, the God of blood, battle and death, ingrained deeply in the Imperial army, appears to have made itself known… By disappearing without harming a hair on anyone’s head. They were last seen heading north, avoiding anything so powerful as a farmer with a pointed stick.

Confusion begins to reign as cults and foes begin to pour out of the woodwork and onto the pyres. A long suspected Cult of Slaanesh has every single member join a convent, a cult of Nurgle in Ubersreik you are sent to investigate puts itself under quarentine and Orks and Goblins pour out of the Grey Lady Pass in the most spectacular display of military incompetence that soldiers refer to it as “the crybaby’s waaagh!”.

Slowly, certain powers begin to feel deeply, deeply uncomfortable. You suspicions are raised further when you receive an invite from a well known scholar… Who openly confesses he is a servent of the Arch-conspirator, Tzeentch, Chaos God of deception and trickery. He submits his tainted works and artefacts, his list of other conspirators and suppliers and gladly hands over his and other’s plans to bring the Empire down from within.

At his Execution, even as the flames creep up the piled wood towards him, he beckons you to come closer, he would explain the reason behind everything, to unravel the mystery of the Empire’s good fortune. You are forced to climb up, careful of the flames, to hear his final statement. He leans forward and utters two words of such staggering consequence that all the good fortune enjoyed tastes of bitter ash.

Drachenfels lives!

Act 1
The four crazy fools brave adventurers stand before the gates of Castle Drachenfels, it’s gate standing slightly ajar. The halfling Haeg Muphin takes a brave lead and starts sticking his nose in places he shouldn’t, quickly followed by the Sigmarite priest Alexander. Muphin’s intrepid exploration uncovers very little aside from Castle Drachenfel’s unusual surplus of buckets and a supply of unusually fresh water. He also learns that perhaps some basic safety protocol is necessary when his compatriot proves not to be quite so light footed as he is. Aside from a turned ankle(and the buckets, sooooo many buckets.) the party turns up nothing interesting. They head downstairs, the Wood Elf of questionable title and Valdrok, the fire wizard with the almighty…personality… “covering their advance”.
Alexander takes the tactical role and employs the time worn strategy of “boot in the first door I see”, which finds them a coach house, which seems fine until Muphin employs the time worn strategy of “steal anything shiny and light enough to stick in my pockets”. Which irritates the wraith driving the coach, who materializes and is just about to tear Muphin a new treasure storing hole when the rest of the party unleashes seven shades of hate on him and stops the whole carriage from animating and doing some very serious damage. (GM note:curses) The skeletons which hop out manage to make peoples’ lives somewhat difficult and inflict a few nasty wounds, but as combats go, this isn’t all that terrifying. Neither is the encounter with some skeletal horses in the opposite building, which our nameless woodelf manages to resolve without even breaking a sweat. The real incident of consequence appears to be that Muphin is almost able to get his greasy mitts on half a cake, but alas, the winds of magic steal it away from him at the last minute…

The adventurer’s are now ready to enter the castle itself, and approach the door with grim determination. After a slightly confusing opening, the party are faced with a long hall, lined on one side with fierce, grasping stone claws. Will they animate and attack the party? Can they simply bypass the stone horrors? Maybe they can…


Alexander walks in and swings at the first thing he doesn’t like the look of and everything goes rapidly downhill from there. Muphin goes pelting past as the wall tries to mangle the priest, everyone else is content to stand and stare a round or two longer as Alexander continues his disagreement with the masonry. When Muphin sprints through the far door, the Wood Elf sees his course laid out and goes legging it after him. Meanwhile Alexander manages to wrestle a few steps further, but the wall has well and truly got it’s claws into him and he is held fairly fast. Valdrok, realising she’s going to have to play this much the same way, sets as much of herself on fire as she can and goes tearing down the hall as well. The plan works to a small extent and she manages to sprint the last few metres, while Alexander eventually follows suit, although the exhaustion of asking the grasping wall ornaments knocks him out cold once he gets through the door. The group now safe at least from the entrance hallway, we break till the next session.


Haeg Muphon has sworn revenge on the snotling, and will rescue the cake, even if he has to descend into the bowel of the castle.


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