[WFRP 1e] The Enemy Within 3

Wilfried Neumann - One eyed Bawd

Last time we departed our trek to Altdorf to help a village with its missing children. Things in this village seem overly complicated. I think we should get back on the trail to Altdorf. The others have more faith in our abilities than I do.

The party headed north into the forest searching not for wolves or for bogeymen but for...goblins. Emmanuelle, the most eligible bachelorette in town, offered to pack our lunch: hard bread and pickled eggs. 

I was completely useless. If you want to get from one area of town to another safely, I'm your man...at least once I know the town sufficiently. If you want to traipse through the woods searching for little green men...I'm good for carrying provisions. For a little while. Those backpacks chafe.

Luckily we have a hunter in our group. The hunter, Gottlieb, led us all through the Sigmar-forsaken woods. All trails led to an old hut. Inside the hut was a pile of bones. Children's bones. From children eaten within the last 3 days. The hunter and the scribe, Talbberry (a halfling), tell us one child was 6 years old. That's amazingly specific...and maybe a bit suspect, if they hadn't just spent the last two days in our group (come to think of it, Gottlieb did disappear for a while hunting our runaway horses the other day...and the child was eaten 3 days ago...). Anyway, the bones were apparently more recent than the multitude of small footprints all around the hut.

It was a quandary. We ate lunch. (Apparently the sight of children's bones make some people hungry. Maybe I should head to Altdorf on my own...).

Gottlieb kept leading us along what he said was the main trail. Then he said we were being followed by wolves. Then we practiced climbing trees. It's been a long time since I was a child climbing trees, but the skill really comes back to you when there are wolves about. 

While a bunch of city folk were making fools of themselves climbing trees, and old man randomly walked into the area. He introduced himself as Bronwyn, the protector of the forest. He was wearing a robe and carrying a sickle, so he was about as druidic as anyone I've ever met. He stated the aura of the village disturbed him. No joke, pal, me too.

Bronwyn stated he would protect us from the wolves if we went after the goblins. I'm thinking someone who can protect us from wolves would have no problem taking out some goblins, but what do I know? We hurried off after goblins, with an old man protecting our flank from a pack of wolves. 

And find the goblins, we did. 

There were close to a dozen of them. Some of the group with crossbows drew first blood. I had a club. I ran into the goblin camp and swung at a sleeping goblin. I hit him hard, too, right in the upper chest. He woke up screaming. I started screaming. It was all very intimidating. He crawled away.

Apparently it's hard to chase a crawling goblin through the forest. There's a bunch of stump and roots and all sorts of garbage in the way. I didn't flatten the sucker until I was well outside the camp. At that point I noticed I was pretty much all alone. Back in camp some sort of unnatural fog had taken over. I didn't see that coming.

I also didn't see the blade coming that cut into my leg. One of those little fleeing buggers slashed me on the way by. While I was standing there dumbfounded, it hit me again before running off.

When the fog finally cleared, I could see why the critter was running for its life. There were a good many dead goblins in the camp, as well as some very wounded party members. I limped back to the others, ready to get out of the bloody forest.

But I think we're going to be late to dinner with the Baron.