The Great North Road Report Volume Two by Nicodemus Krebs

Backertag, 20 Vorgeheim, 2522

A hard rain last night, it dawned clear and cool today.

Much debate in the stench filled camp today as to how to best ambush the greenskin scum. Finally we determined that Oldric and Pippa should conceal themselves in the wood near the lodge and signal the rest of us with his magick when he or Pippa observed some Goblins or Orcs.

We spent the rest of the morning clearing the corpses of our foes from yesterday, burning them in the pit the goblins used to eat their betters, then set about placing some braces at certain points in the high fence that surrounds the camp.

We have set ourselves a half-mile from the camp and await Oldric's signal. The weather remains mild for summer.


Bezahltag, 21 Vorgeheim, 2522

I saw the signal from Oldric just as the night was closing in. Andric, Roland, and I immediately began to rush to Oldric and Pippa's location. Oldric told me later what transpired:

Oldric and Pippa were hidden within sight of the camp when Oldric spotted a goblin peering into the camp from the treeline. As he watched, he soon saw more of the foul little bastards looking at the camp. Over a period of time several left back the way they had apparantly come.

When there was but one left, Oldric cast one of the Magicks he has, assuming the likeness of the spellcasting Greenskin we had come across two days before.

Bravely, Oldric marched out from the tree line and stomped around a bare dozen yards from the goblin. When he heard the greenskin natter at him its tongue, Oldric grunted, turned away from the gobblin and called upon his magick to strike at a tree as if in a fit of pique. This seemed to mislead the goblin into thinking that Oldric was the Shaman he pretended to be, as the goblin called out to its compatriots and soon after a party of some ten wolf-mounted goblins came into Pippa's view and milled around in front of the gate to the camp.

Oldric doubled back behind the lone goblin that followed him into the wood, and cast his signal to us. As Oldric approached the edge of the wood one of the filthy grobi made him out and loosed an arrow at him, screaming a warning in their foul language.

Unbeknownst to us all, Throngor and Imrak had made good time in their march to us, and came upon the goblins just as they focussed their attention on and loosed at Oldric. Taking in the scene, they looked at one another, smiled, and charged forward.

Throngor pulled up short, and we could all hear the thunderous bark of his blunderbuss as he fired, injuring many of the goblins and their giant wolf steeds, causing a great yipping and yapping of wounded cries.

Imrak continued the charge, that great axe of his cleaving the head of a wolf in half lengthwise and robbing a grobi of his mount.

A wild melee punctuated by a ringing blast of one of Throngor's pistols ensued as we charged through the wood to the aid our companions.

One of the foul greenskins sounded a horn before being ripped from his mount by a swing of Imrak's axe. Pippa and Oldric, meanwhile, engaged the filthy greenskins to their front, Oldric attracting the attention of their archers after using another of his sorceries and taking on the substance of shadow. As we ran forward I saw him standing in the open shouting challenges at the greenskins. Great are his magicks, as I saw an arrow penetrate his chest, only to pass through and strike the tree behind him and root there, like an obscene flower.

The leader of the foul goblins, mounted on the largest of the giant wolves, tried to rally his fellows, shouting and gesturing, only to have most of his underlings killed or disabled in moments.

As I came ino the clearing, Andric beside me, Throngor shot again, a great plume of smoke with a spark of red connecting the pistol in his hand with the face of one of the goblins, tearing it's enormous nose from its sneering face.

Disappointing Imrak greatly, the goblins quickly broke and fled if they were able.

Free of the wood, myself, Andric, and the Bretonnian, Roland on his great destrier charged, slamming into those goblins too slow in escaping. Their leader and his great wolf escaped.

The noseless goblin abondoned its desperate and comical search for its missing nose and fled on foot as Roland gave chase on his great destrier, thundering out of our view.

We were collecting ourselves and greeting Throngor and Imrak inside the camp. I had closed the gate to ensure our safety from any possible goblin arrows when we heard the thunder of hooves returning from the direction Roland had pursued the noseless goblin.

I looked to the south and saw him as he rode at a full gallop at us, his eyes wide with terror and shouting at the top of his lungs in his language. To my shame, none of us understood what he desired, and the only sop to my remorse over what happened next is that I do not believe that he would have made it into the camp regardless.

As I tried to make sense of his shouted words, a winged terror of nightmare swept down on him from behind and bit his head from his shoulders. The horror of that moment will live forever in my memory. The Bretonnian was a stout companion and though we were separted by the lack of a common tongue, well will I remember him.

The monstrous beast which took him had a large and heavy head with two horns, though one of this specimen's had been broken in some old fight. The jaws and teeth within that head tore effortlessly through the steel gorget protecting Roland's neck and into the flesh and gristle beneath. The rest of its body was like that of a lizard, though the forelegs were replaced with mighty pinions that stretched a great distance to either side. In length it was some seven times a man's hieght and armored scales lined its tough skin.

I stood rooted in place as that terrifying creature flew over the camp, it's great muscled neck and gorge working to swallow the armored head of our erstwhile companion. I shall always remember the power and awe that I felt in the shadow of that beast. Power and awe which made my manhood shrink and withdraw.

As the terror receded with the beast's flight away from us and I mastered my fear, I made out a huge armored Orc mounted on the creature's back, a massive axe in one deep green hand.

I was told later by Oldric, most educated of us, that the creature was a Wyvern, a beast of limited intelligence and great ferocity that some orcs, braver than most or more insane, manage to train as mounts.

I have heard stories of Dragons and the terror they cause, and to my limited experience, I cannot see how any creature could be more terrifying than that which we faced as night fell on that lonely camp deep in the Drakwald west of Middenheim.

Andric sprang into action, pushing his way oout into the clearing before the pallisade and singing prayers to Sigmar in preparation for the fight he believed the wyvern would soon bring. Imrak stood with him, his great axe held at the ready.

Oldric, that man of magick who hides a true sensitivity behind a brash mask of impropriety and foul-mouthed comments, was right behind Andric, approaching the great destrier with Roland's headless corpse still upright in the saddle. With a skill I would not have believed him to possess, he managed to soothe the great war-steed and settle it enough that he began to lead it back to camp.

As he turned to do so, he was struck by an arrow in the thigh. He screamed out that he had been struck and hobbled back towards the gate as more arrows fell amongst those outside the pallisade.

Seeking out the sneaking greenskin scum, Andric and Imrak both charged at the one that had shot Oldric. The goblin who led the initial group we had already caused to flee was in the deeper darkness below on of the trees, sitting astride his wolf and drawing back on his bowstring to loose another arrow.

Throngor, standing next to me at the gate, was struck by an arrow loosed by another goblin. Thankfully the arrow was deflected harmlessly by his dwarfish breast plate.

Throngor then led me forward into the darkness on a wild charge, attacking another goblin that stood its ground before us.

Pippa felled a goblin from the window of one of the blockhouses, her vision unimpaired by the darkness.

The one that had been facing Andric and Imrak's charge turned and fled.

Quickly Throngor and I felled the goblin and its wolf mount that had tried the mettle of Throngor's plate. Seeking further foes, we were inhibited by the darkness and the willingness of our foe to flee us.

Oldric managed to guide the charger inside the pallisade. We eventually all collapsed on the gate and inside, as we humans were at to great a disadvantage in the darkness of the moonless night.

Fatigue is a crushing weight as I write this, as the we have spent the last few hour in preparation for action. Throngor is still bent over his blunderbuss and tinkering with its mechanisms, a length of rope and a grapnel from our stores. Imrak and Andric were whirlwinds of activity, setting other ropes across the camp to entangle the Wyvern should it attempt to fly in at us. Pippa is serving as our look-out. I am in one of the blockhouses and my fatigue is such that I shall soon fall asleep. The Morrslieb has made its appearance this night, its appearance low and in the eastern sky, shedding a loathsome mulberry light on the clearing outside.

Pre-Dawn of Konistag, 22 Vorgeheim, 2522

Great portents in the night! I know not how to express in full the pride and the glory that sings through my heart, for I have felt the very breath of Ulric on my soul!

Last night, our preparations made, Andric was sleeping in the camp, his back to stout Imrak when he began to writhe and shout. We looked about, thinking he was trying to alert us to some new danger, only slowly realizing that Andric was in the throes of some vision.

He shouted and cried out, eventually uttering a lengthy narrative, despite our attempts to quiet him. Imrak and I struggled to restrain Andric as his body arced. From his shouted screams and cries during his vision, Andric was alone and facing a great Greenskin horde, calling out for his companions. Calling for Oldric, for Throngor. I called out to him, seeing my own breath on the air, though I would swear it was a hot night just a few moments before as I appraoched my friend.

Imrak and I tried to aid him, but our ministrations were ineffective. Soon a great wolf's howl went up from the wood around us. Different from the cries of the malignant giant wolves the golblins use as mounts, this cry seared the soul. At the end of the wolf's howl, Andric collapsed quiet, and I took his hand in mine. My friend and fighting companion, Andric Vogel, had hands colder than the snow from deepest Ulriczeit. The chill spread from his frozen hand and through my body, chilling me to my bones and comforting my heart with icy, furious resolve.

At that moment Imrak saw a great white wolf standing amongst the forest boles at the edge of the clearing that surrounded the camp just to the southwest. When he pointed to The Child Of Ulric, I saw but a flash of white racing through the forest beofre disappearing southward. Returning my gaze to Andric, I saw a miracle of Father Winter before my own eyes: The grass and stone, earth and mud around us in in a perfect circle was covered in hoar-frost and ice. The icy fire in my breast sang a song of winter and battle in my veins and I knew comfort and strength.

Too soon Ulric's regard left us, though it left a mark upon me, changing the hair of the cloak of the giant Wolf I wear to match that of one of His Children, making it white and mending the rents put there by the tooth and claw of my enemies.

In the far distance to the South we heard a great baying as of a wolf in battle. Long it lasted, but it ended in a howling cry cut short I feel bodes ill for the Child Of Ulric.

I write this now, dawn having broken. Imrak has seen the Wyvern in the western sky, circling the camp from a distance. I do not know great fear now as I feel the hand of Ulric on my heart and guiding my hands. My breath shows the smoke of His never-ending fire in the cold morning air.

Andric needs water, and I shall get it for him.

Great things shall pass this day, and I know that we shall, if we act with the instinct and strength of a pack of Ulric's Children, overcome.