[WFRP 2e] The Orbs of Great and Ruinous Power 12

Last night was the twelfth sitting of our WarHammer 2e online campaign.

Mordrin Skorkinson, Giant Slayer. He is still looking for a giant to slay, as he doesn't feel the last giant was quite giant enough.  He is also the bemoaner of the doom that got away.

His chosen weapon is a magical two handed war-hammer taken from a slain priest of Sigmar, its once faded runes now burn bright due to Mordrin's great deeds.

My companions:
Tibalt - A Brettonian Knight
Udrin - A High Elf Scholar
Gustav - A Human Initiate of Verena (Absent this sitting)
Ato - A Wood Elf Wizard Apprentice (Absent this sitting)

Inside the fraying mind of a Slayer:
Mordrin went to sleep in a small clearing, his head resting on a rock. He awoke in a tent, on a bed, with a wispy piece of cloth draped over the bed. He did not know where he was nor how long he had been out. He reached for his hammer.

Mordrin exited his tent at the same time he companions were coming from theirs. They were in an elven military camp in the middle of the forest. No one in the party knew how they had gotten to this spot. The elf the Knight stopped for answers was less than forthcoming.

The party thought back on their travels from Holthusen to this place. None could remember traveling past the small clearing. Someone pointed out the party had been cleaned. The Slayer's hair smelled of bee's wax rather than pig fat.

Someone suggested the party's memories had been wiped of the remainder of the travel between the small clearing and this military camp.  Mordrin searched his memories desperately to recall the shame that brought him to the Slayer cult. The memory was there. Also there was a memory...dream...nightmare? of being cleansed by a white-haired elf during their recent travels.

Mordrin bristled at the violations the elves had done to him to this point.

Udrin, Ato, and Gustav pleaded caution from Mordrin in the midst of the elven camp. They had come willingly, after all, and they were surrounded by an overwhelming number of elves that would rain an ignoble doom down on dwarf if he attacked.

Mordrin grunted and followed his nose to the mess tent.

The food was slim elven pickings, but Mordrin was able to find something resembling meat: thinly sliced venison. As he set his mighty hammer against the chair to free his hands, the knight jokingly grabbed the slayer's food out from under him. Mordrin roared and set to strike the human thief, but the scared and pitiful look on the knight's face caused the dwarf to pull his punch at the last moment. Naturally the human was frightened by current events, and Mordin should be seeking to help his traveling companion rather than lash out at him. More venison was brought by the obsequious elf Farnoth, and Mordrin thought no more on the matter.

Now rested and fed, the group consented to be led to the camp's general. Before entering, Udrin practically begged the rest of the party to be on their best behavior in front of this supposedly powerful elf. Mordrin figured the only way to not get in an argument would be to not pay attention and let Udrin do all the talking.

The elf general displayed the noble bearing of a warrior, initially impressing Mordrin. However, the general's obvious haughty tone, the insults that Udrin couldn't neutralize though he was the one translating, and the tiresome questioning of unrelated, inconsequential events by the general soon tried Mordrin's patience. When questioned directly, Mordrin gave flippant half-answers and referred the general back to the fawning Udrin for clarifications.

Though Mordrin was trying not to pay too much attention, lest the insults of the elf overwhelm his tenuous self control, Mordin did hear Atosass translate one part of the conversation between Udrin and the general. Apparently the High Elf Scholar had secreted a piece of dawi zharr (dark dwarf) black plate armor upon his person.  Udrin made some glib promises of his intentions for destruction and repurposing of the armor, but Mordrin was already ignoring the elf again. He thought, not for the first time, how foolish he was to allow an elgi to be his Remembrancer.  Even the Initiate (Interrogator?). a fickle human, would not stoop to such vagaries.

In the end, the elves told us of a nearby druchii camp, in an abandoned elf village called Cairnmere, the creatures holed up therein, and their plans to attack once scouts returned with more news. The elf general promised Mordrin could slay wyvern, daemons, and druchii to his heart content if the party agreed to join forces with him. Mordrin needed someplace to vent his overwhelming frustrations, as soon, so he immediately agreed to join.

Mordrin would slay these so-called dark elves, and he would picture one of the elves of this camp for every druchii he slayed.

I would like to present a case that the slayer should have gained an insanity point due to the following conditions: Being kidnapped by elves (though arguably "willingly"), having his memories taken from him (had he found the memory of his shame missing, he would have gone berserk), having been violated (cleansed) by elves, having his mohawk stripped of it's pig fat and having bee's wax added instead (sweet smelling garbage), being surrounded by an encampment of elves, being routinely taunted by them regarding his hair, the revelation that his traveling companion had been secreting dawi zharr (dark dwarf) contraband, and Mordrin keeping this all internalized relatively well (other than a small breakdown in the mess hall). I believe the break down could be attributed to the oncoming insanity, and I should like to officially add a point to Mordrin's character sheet.


Timothy Stone said…
I bless Mordrin with 1 Insanity Point. Go now my dwarf and continue on the path to your glorious doom.
Roger said…
Sweet. By now I've forgotten how I got the other two. That's a Slayer's life!

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