Subject: Three NPC's From: IrishSpy@aol.com Date: Tue Jun 28 21:18:07 CDT 1994 Message-Id: <9406282311.tn145621@aol.com> Reply-To: wfrp@monsta.metronet.com Hi all, This post contains three NPC's for an adventure proposal I was writing for Flame Publications -- well, we all know what happened to them. :( The adventure was set in Kemperbad, which explains the location references. Luigi Belladonna is "the Godfather" of the criminal underworld in Kemperbad. A description of the town itself can be found in Death on the Reik. By the way, I always try to open a description with a quote or two from or about the character or place -- it helps to set the tone. As usual, feel free to adapt these characters to your own games. I do retain my copyrights in the characters and their stories, while the system-specific material is copyright Games Workshop. Have fun. :) copyright 1994 Anthony Ragan Blind Willem M:4 WS:41 BS:44 S:2 T:4 W:10 I:42 A:1 DX:42 LD:38 INT:50 CL:53 WP:40 FEL:48 SKILLS Ambidextrous; ride--horse; lightning reflexes; scale sheer surface; very resilient; disarm; dodge blow; secret language--battle tongue; street fighting; strike mighty blow; animal care; acting; blather; charm; disguise; mimic; palm object; wit; consume alcohol. CAREER: Charlatan CAREER PATH: Soldier, entertainer (actor), charlatan. AGE: 33 ALIGNMENT: Neutral DESCRIPTION: Looks like a filthy beggar, around 60-70 years old. Looks diseased, ugly, scarred. Blind eyes. Recites poetry and scenes from classical plays. HIS STORY: Blind Willem: "Tarry a moment, gentle lord or lady--for I know not which you are!--spare a penny or two for an old soldier. Ah, bless you, noble soul! ay the gods serve you and keep you, and may joy shine upon you like a rosy spring dawn'--Gloriana, act one, scene two. Bless you." A Kemperbad coppersmith: "Poor old Willem. He was a brave soldier once, but a greenskin threw hot pitch in his face and took his sight. He's amazingly literate, though. Always entertaining folks with quotes from this or that. I can usually spare him a shilling or two when I see him. His attitude is wonderful for one struck so low." Blind Willem: "City the beggar, all ye with a roof and a hearth, for he is the cherished nestling of the White Dove,'--Merciful Precepts of Shallya, book IV, verse 17. Blessings to you my child. (Hmmm....Gold and ruby bracelet under the cuff. The ravens will be interested. Nice legs, too.)" A Middenlander tourist: "Filthy wretch! I bent to give him a brass penny, and he clutched his dirty claws about my wrists trying to thank me. Oh, and his rum-laden breath! I can still smell the stink. My husband would have struck him then and there, but the crowd laughed and protected him! How these Reiklanders can tolerate such scum on their streets is beyond me. Worst of all, I lost my grandmother's bracelet in Kemperbad! I've no idea where." If he weren't so lazy, Gunnar of Nuln might well have been one of the greatest actors in the Empire. As it is, his life has been one long quest for the most crowns for the least effort. Raised in the slums of Nuln, he joined a light cavalry unit as a youth to find excitement. What he got instead was discipline, endless drill, and constant abuse from his sergeant and mates. One day, a travelling carnival passed through Nuln and Gunnar decided he had had enough. The life of a travelling player was the one for him. Touring from town to town, meeting pretty ladies, sleeping late, and accepting the accolades and moneys of the crowds: it was a dream of paradise. At his first chance, he deserted his unit and joined the circus as it left Nuln. Though he showed great talent as an actor, the truth was far different from his fantasies. Up before dawn, interminable rehearsals, breaking camp and cleaning up after the dancing bears--this was not what Gunnar wanted! The money was lousy, too, since the carnival master took the largest share. There had to be an easier way to live life and get rich. While performing in Altdorf, Gunnar snuck away from rehearsal to wander about and see the sights. On a square near Brass Alley, he saw the most amazing thing: a one-legged beggar was telling jokes to the crowd, and they were giving him money! No kicks, no abuse, no spittle, but pennies and shillings and even the occasional gold crown! Gunnar watched him for hours, then followed him into a tavern where the old cripple proceeded to drink away his treasure. Talking to the publican, Gunnar found out that this had been going on for years. If that beggar hadn't been an alcoholic, he would have been wealthy. Gunnar had at last found his "easy street." Returning to the carnival, he stole a make-up kit, some wigs, and a pair of milk-glass lenses that allowed actors to portray blind men while still being able to see. Then he bought passage on a riverboat to Bogenhafen and used the time to perfect his act. Thus was born "Blind Willem." For the next several years the streets of Bogenhafen were home to an old soldier well-schooled in literature, but reduced to begging and drink by the horrible wounds he had suffered in combat. Working a spot near the temple of Shallya, he could play on the piety of passersby; he was more successful than he had dared hope. By day he earned his money as Blind Willem and by night he could live the life of a well-heeled young gentleman. Only the owner of a seedy pawnshop from whom he rented a loft knew his secret. A few shillings a week were enough to buy his silence. After a while the wanderlust bug bit again and Gunnar, now "Willem," sailed up the Reik and decided to stay in Kemperbad. It was easy to set up the same arrangements here as in Bogenhafen. Soon Blind Willem was a sentimental fixture on Kemperbad's streets. The city's beggars are under the "protection" of Belladonna's racketeers, and Willem has had to come to terms with them. That was fairly easy to do, since the value of a sighted "blind man" was obvious to the criminals. This "blind man's bluff" has paid off for them, having been the source of many valuable tips. Willem's secret has been restricted to a chosen few among the Corvi ("ravens"), including Luigi Belladonna himself. Wilhelmina Thistledown -and- The Merry Whistler Inn M:4 WS:49 BS:58 S:3 T:2 W:9 I:68 A:1 DX:41 LD:37 INT:47 CL:32 WP:55 FEL:53 SKILLS Cook; silent move rural; cryptography; excellent vision; dodge blow; animal care; drive cart; etiquette; evaluate; haggle; numismatics; palm object; super numerate. CAREER: Fence RACE: Halfling CAREER PATH: Servant, trader, fence. AGE: 75 ALIGNMENT: Neutral DESCRIPTION: Heavy, round build, barely 4'0" tall. Looks like everyone's Grandma. Rosy cheeks, greying hair tied up in a bun. A protective, doting woman. Loves to feed people. Smokes cigars when alone. HER STORY: A Four Seasons coaching agent: "If I may advise you, take your honeymoon in Kemperbad at the Merry Whistler Inn. It's perched right at the town's edge atop the Reik-side cliffs. You'll have a beautiful view of the river and the Reikwald. The food is superb, too. All prepared by Wilhelmina Thistledown, the proprietress. Many couples go again and again. Why, I book one Altdorf couple three times a year!" Wilhelmina Thistledown: "Just call me Aunt Mina, dearie. You've come for breakfast? Perhaps you'd like to sit out on the terrace--you can just see the Grey Mountains today. Now, what will you have? Ham and eggs, with bayberry marmalade? I see....[in a whisper]...Right! Meet me in the tack room behind the stables, ten minutes. Make like you're going to the garderobe. And don't forget to pay for breakfast! You wouldn't want to upset Edgar, would you, dearie?" A Reik river smuggler: "Don't know, mate, those are some hot potatoes you got there. Can't think of anyone who'd want....wait, I just 'membered! Down river a ways in Kemperbad there's a bed and breakfast called the Merry Whistler, run by a Halfling. Nah, I'm not tugging your beard, mate! She's the biggest fence on the whole middle Reik. Go there for breakfast, ask for the bayberry marmalade, it ain't on the menu. Just don't get funny with her, she's the an's' favorite." In a city known for romance and weddings, it's only natural for there to be many inns and hostelries catering to newlyweds and tourists. Among the best of these is the Merry Whistler, owned and run by Wilhelmina Thistledown. Her bed and breakfast is very popular with both tourists and locals. Built into the old wall along the Reik-side cliffs, it boasts very comfy rooms, excellent food, and a magnificent view from its terrace. Coaching and riverboat agents from as far away as Talabheim and Marienburg recommend it to their clients. It's nearly always booked months in advance. Of course, that's understandable when the most popular hotel in Kemperbad is also a front for the biggest fencing operation between Nuln, Talabheim and Altdorf. Many local thieves will "go for breakfast" and order the bayberry marmalade, a signal that they have something to sell. The staff will direct them to the tack room in the stables, where they will be met by Edgar the blacksmith/bodyguard and Aunt Mina, who will be smoking the foul cigar she always lights when doing business. Mina will always give good prices, typically about 35% of value, or 30% if the item is particularly "hot." A successful bargain test will add 5% to the price she is willing to pay. She will insist that the client stay and pay for breakfast. "A working man must keep up his strength, dearie," she says. Many of the newlywed couples and tourists who stay at the inn are actually agents representing the biggest gangs in the Empire, Marienburg, and Brettonia. They come to see what's available or by special invitation of Aunt Mina. Stolen goods are sold at roughly 60% of street value, or more if the item is well-known or several gangs are bidding for it. A successful bargain test will reduce her selling price by 5%. Many clients make regular trips several times a year, including the Wastelander fence who supplies Mina with Lustrian cigars. Aunt Mina has been able to operate for the past 25 years because of the special patronage of Luigi Belladonna. Years ago, when Belladonna was fighting for his life in the gang war that gave him control of the Kemperbad rackets, Aunt Mina gave him shelter at a dangerous moment. Belladonna never forgot, and, after he had won, he set her up in the Merry Whistler. She is under his special protection, and no one in his right mind would ever think of harming or double-crossing his "mama piccola." Players new to Kemperbad can hear of the Merry Whistler through contacts when they try to sell or trace stolen goods. Perhaps they will be visiting the inn for its famous breakfasts and become suspicious when two or three men all order bayberry marmalade and then disappear for a time. They might order it themselves and then have to explain to Aunt Mina why they have no goods to sell. [And Edgar has no sense of humor at all.] Aunt Mina can also be a source of training to players wishing to follow a fence's career or seeking a meeting with Luigi Belladonna. He will be less suspicious of anyone referred by her. Magistrate Julius Haufschneider M:3 WS:33 BS:28 S:5 T:4 W:9 I:39 A:2 DX:27 LD:56 INT:66 CL:48 WP:40 FEL:43 SKILLS Acute Hearing; excellent vision; dance; scale sheer surface; ride--horse; strike mighty blow; strike to stun; arcane language magick; read/write--Old Worlder; secret language--classical; astronomy; cartography; numismatics; speak additional language--Tilean dialect; law; secret signs--lawyer; etiquette. CAREER: Lawyer. CAREER PATH: Watchman, student, lawyer. AGE: 56 ALIGNMENT: Evil DESCRIPTION: 5'9". 172 lbs. Salt & pepper hair. Brown eyes. Balding, portly, stern, jowly face. Gestures with hands while talking. Wears dark clothes. Has a rat's tail. A Kemperbad watchman: "Yah, old stoneheart is a harsh one, alright. Everything strictly by the book. Why, the other day, he tossed a young widow and her kid out on the street and siezed their goods when their landlord sued for back rent. They were only behind a little bit, but he law is the law,' he said. You'd think he were a priest of Solkan or something!" A poor tinker: "He really has it in for us, that he does. Has it in for all of us not born on a bed of clover. All I was trying to do was sell a newlywed couple a good-luck set of tin spoons--you know, something traditional and romantic. They'd already been to the cutlery shops and didn't want to pay their prices. I was just giving them a good deal, and for that he fines me 50 crowns! He says I violated guild-assigned territory,pah! He just hates poor folk trying to make an honest schilling." A Kemperbad merchant: "Julius is a good man, but he has a duty to uphold the law. It's true, he's become more stern since the death of his wife many years ago. She was murdered, you see. Since then, he has been relentless in his fight against crime." A priest of Sigmar: "Magistrate Haufschneider may be harsh to those who break the law, but he is truly generous to those less fortunate than he. Look at his niece Annemike: her father dies when she is a babe; her mother falls to death in a tragic accident. He has taken Annemike under his wing and given her the best of everything. Believe me, it hasn't been easy. The girl can be a hellcat sometimes. And here in our own temple, he has endowed a school for the children of our watchmen and roadwardens. Julius Haufschneider is a fine role model for our youth." Magistrate Julius Haufschneider--lawyer, councilman, and property owner-- is a living tragedy. Scion of a fine middle-class family, he joined the watch at an early age out of an idealistic desire to serve the city. His natural leadership and energy quickly won him recognition and a sergeant's baton, but his natural calling lay on another path. His fine intellect lead him to study law, and he has had a brilliant career as a lawyer and judge. After a few years, he was elected to Kemperbad's governing Council of Thirteen and became one of its four executive magistrates. His family prospered and he had the respect of all who knew him. Life was good, and then it all came crashing down. One night, fifteen years ago, his beautiful wife Maria Donau was murdered by a cutthroat for her purse of a few crowns. For all his efforts, for all his zeal and intellect, he could never bring his wife's killer to justice. The bitterness was with him for years, and he took his revenge on all who came before his bench by applying the law with no hint of mercy. Something changed in Julius Haufschneider. The idealist in him had died and been reborn a twisted parody of itself. He saw the inexorable decay of society mirrored in the faces that came through his court every day. The greedy landlord was no less an agent of that decay than the murdering thug or the drug-selling bawd. To Haufschneider, the end was inevitable: civilization would fall into ruins, and in those ruins the only law would be the law of power. With this revelation there came conversion. If only the powerful would rule amidst the ruins, then why shouldn't Julius Haufschneider be among the rulers? Indeed, why shouldn't he work to hasten that glorious day, when the mighty would rip away society's hypocritical smile? Through an arrested cultist it was easy to contact the Skaven and join the cult of the Horned Rat. Once again he rose rapidly to leadership and used his judicial powers to advance the cult's interests. He would sow the seeds of chaos by the ruthless enforcement of every petty, archaic, and irrational law on the books. While seeming to defend society, he would attack it by fueling those resentments the poor hold for the rich. Haufschneider grew wealthy. His fortune was made when he arranged the murder of his sister-in-law Andrea Koelb and had himself appointed his niece's legal guardian. Wealth and power, all that truly mattered in life, were his at last. At least, they were his until a month ago. Then his niece fell in love with a wretched half-Norscan scribe and found a legally unstoppable way to wed. He didn't dare lose control of her fortune, for both he and the cult needed the money. Then the Skaven demanded his niece instead of the scribe, and threatened to expose him if he didn't comply. The surrender of his own flesh and blood to them tore at what little humanity he had left, but what else could he do? Then, it happened. The morning after the Skaven took Annemike, Julius Haufschneider awoke to find a rat's tail growing from his body, the physical sign of his inner depravity. Haufschneider knew it was all over, that he could not long hide what he had become. Now, his mind is going and he keeps repeating to himself a proverb heard from a priest of Solkan in his youth: "By fire shall the world be destroyed, and by fire shall it be cleansed." **** END **** -- .' '. Internet: apile10@scu.edu.au Southern Cr oss University Lismore NSW Australia