The Fraulein slid against the rotting dock with a tired groan of wood and rope, her hull heavy with stolen knowledge and ill-gotten relics. Wittgendorf rose before them like a wound that refused to close—empty streets choked with weeds, shuttered houses sagging inward, and a silence so complete it felt accusatory. Even before the first figures appeared, the place radiated failure: of gods, of lords, of every promise the Empire ever made to its forgotten corners.
They came out of the boathouse in ones and twos at first, then in a miserable knot—nine shapes that might once have been people. Hunger clung to them like a second skin. Their bodies told stories without words: missing limbs wrapped in rags, sores crusted and raw, mouths warped by too many teeth or too few, eyes dulled by pain and want. The smell of sickness drifted over the riverbank. Felrick’s instincts tightened, old reflexes from bounty roads and bad towns—this was not a crowd you let press too close, not if you valued your spine unbroken and your blood inside your body.
Thindruk did what nobles did when confronted with desperation: he raised his voice and imposed order upon chaos, if only by insisting it recognize him. His words—measured, practiced, and heavy with implied authority—cut through the shuffling misery. The beggars slowed, then halted, hope and suspicion warring in their hollow faces. Apples followed, arcing out from the deck, and the fragile order nearly shattered at once. Hands clawed. Bodies shoved. A knife flashed, not in threat but in the careful division of food too precious to waste. Felrick kept throwing until the scuffle lost its edge and hunger dulled into gratitude.
They spoke of plague. Of a storm that rolled in black and wrong, of crops that withered afterward, of animals sickening and then people. Two years of decline compressed into a handful of broken sentences. Sigmar, some said, had abandoned them. Others muttered prayers anyway, out of habit if nothing else. The name of the castle downriver surfaced again and again, like a tooth worrying a sore.
Then the guards arrived.
Eight figures in partial plate, steel dulled by neglect rather than use, faces hidden behind visors and masks. They moved stiffly, as if armor were not the only thing constraining their joints. At their head rode the captain, who lifted his visor only to reveal another mask beneath—polished, expressionless, and deeply unsettling. He did not greet them so much as demand justification for their presence, invoking quarantine and authority with the flat certainty of someone unused to being questioned.
Thindruk answered as he always did: with rank, implication, and a refusal to explain more than necessary. The exchange went nowhere. No writ was produced, no invitation accepted. The Baroness would receive them—tomorrow. Until then, Wittgendorf offered “hospitality,” the word sounding thin and brittle in the captain’s mouth. With that, the guards turned and marched away, leaving behind the sense that the village was less quarantined than contained.
The beggars scattered the moment steel withdrew, melting back into the boathouse like animals fleeing a torch. Silence returned, thicker than before.
They did not all leave the boat. Prudence demanded a watch, and Felrick stayed behind with Nora, eyes on the river and hands never far from weapons. The rest took to the village paths, passing shuttered homes and watching faces peer out from behind cracked boards. At the inn, an older man in better health than most examined an offered apple as if it were a loaded weapon before biting into it. The gesture lingered with Qavitrae—a reflex born not of mistrust, but of survival.
Not all within Wittgendorf had surrendered to rot. In a fenced garden of living flowers stood a man dressed too well for the place, his Bretonnian finery and powdered face an absurd contrast to the decay around him. Jean Rousseau introduced himself as the village physician, a foreigner by birth and temperament. He spoke easily, with practiced charm, but his words carried weight. He had seen this sickness from its beginning. He could treat symptoms, nothing more. True progress, he claimed, came from Lady Marguerite herself—studious, brilliant, and dangerously curious.
Dinner was arranged, wine promised. Rousseau’s interest in Thindruk was unmistakable, his gaze lingering just long enough to cross from politeness into intent. Thindruk, for his part, neither encouraged nor rebuffed him. In a place like Wittgendorf, alliances—even personal ones—were resources.
The Temple of Sigmar loomed above the village, its lead-clad roof dull beneath a grey sky. Once, it had been built with money and faith both. Now, its gilded hammer had been scraped nearly bare. Inside, the offertory lay smashed, the silver dish gone. Frescoes of Sigmar’s victories watched silently as if unsure whether they still mattered.
There was no priest to greet them.
The attached cottage told the rest of the story. Fire-scorched walls, a collapsed roof, charred bindings and half-burned pages scattered like dead leaves. Months old, perhaps more. No blood. No bones. Just absence, deliberate and violent. Someone had decided the priest—and his books—were no longer welcome.
The temple itself was not corrupted. That, at least, was something. Ransacked, defiled by desperation, but not tainted by the Ruinous Powers. Qavitrae felt the thin relief of that truth even as unease settled deeper. A temple raised a century ago, contemporary with Dagmar von Wittgenstein. A castle buckled after a terrible storm. A sickness that followed knowledge unearthed and uncontained.
By the time they left the temple, the light was fading. Dinner awaited. So did tomorrow, and the Baroness, and whatever truth lay coiled beneath Wittgendorf’s rot. The Fraulein remained at dock, her crew divided but alert, suspended between courtesy and violence.
The Enemy Within had not yet shown its face—but it was everywhere they looked.
Arrival at Wittgendorf and initial layout The party’s vessel, the Dandy Fraulein, pulled up to the dock at Wittgendorf. The GM clarified a location detail: the castle is south of the village, not on the immediate approach as previously described. The village itself is a small cluster of buildings along the riverside, estimated at a couple dozen structures. Two obvious “purpose” buildings were pointed out: A boathouse (with a worn trail from the riverbank used for hauling poles/working on boats). A Temple of Sigmar on the rise above the village, described as the largest building in town. Background context and rumors about Wittgendorf The party discussed when the town was “condemned” / warned against: The group recalled earlier travel in which they had sailed past this village when first going down to Grissenwald and Nuln. The party connected the village to prior encounters: Thindruk’s interest in lead roofing Thindruk Steelbone asked whether any of the grander buildings had lead sheet roofing (as used historically). The GM confirmed: First visible townsfolk: the sick crowd from the boathouse As the party secured the boat and began to disembark, the first villagers appeared: The party assessed whether the group was threatening: Awareness checks were called for as the group approached. The GM described the general impression for those who didn’t get a strong read: Specific details noticed by successful observers: Nora Abendroth noticed clear signs of mutilation / missing limbs among the group: The GM added that, as they got closer, additional injuries/deformities were apparent: Felrick Flappan, on a critical success, noticed behavior suggesting desperation and discomfort: When close enough, the villagers begged in raspy voices: Thindruk asserts authority and creates space The party considered how to respond (fight vs. talk), but ultimately attempted to manage the crowd. Thindruk, from the deck/dock area, spoke in a formal, commanding tone, claiming: The GM called for a social roll; Thindruk used Guile (noting it fit since the “imperial mission” was not official). Distributing aid: apples and the resulting scuffles The party discussed what food they had available. Felrick began distributing apples into the crowd. As the first apple landed, the person who caught it was wrestled by others for it. As more apples were thrown, the crowd realized there might be enough to go around. The situation escalated into serious scuffles (though not a full-scale fight): Attempt to identify leadership in town Thindruk asked if there was someone who spoke for the town or held authority. After initial hesitation, the villagers responded: Nora asked (and the party considered) whether the local nobility were suffering like the villagers or doing better. The GM requested a Scrutinize check. With successful scrutiny in the group, the GM described: Thindruk tries to summon the Lady to the boat Thindruk clarified his social position: Thindruk addressed the healthiest-looking villager (a man in his late 20s) and asked him to deliver an invitation: The GM described that the messenger perked up at the mention of payment and left at a better clip than the others, heading into the village and disappearing past the first buildings. Thindruk realized he had crowns but not a shilling, and asked Qavitrae if she had one. What the villagers do with coin / how they survive The party asked where villagers were spending money and whether merchants came by. Villagers explained: Timeline and cause of the village’s decline (as told by villagers) When asked how long this had been going on, villagers said: Villagers described a key event: A terrible wicked storm with roiling black clouds and unholy lightning. After the storm: They called it a “terrible plague.” Religious despair surfaced among villagers: Thindruk’s attempt to restore morale Thindruk countered the despairing sentiment by suggesting: The GM described the response as half-hearted, with very little genuine hope remaining. Questions about the castle The party asked whether the castle was damaged by the storm and what its state had been previously. Villagers claimed they had never been inside and emphasized: The GM noted there were “drawings of the castle,” and that they appeared improbable. Arrival of armed guards A group of armored men emerged onto the riverside road: Their equipment and appearance: The party assessed their condition and readiness. The GM called for Awareness checks. Thindruk critically assessed them: Confrontation with the Captain of the Guard The mounted figure demanded: “State your names.” Qavitrae formally announced: The guard leader introduced himself as: Doppler’s mask and presentation: Doppler relayed information and questioned them: Thindruk responded by doubling down on his stated justification: Doppler asked for proof: Thindruk refused to provide documentation and pressed for a face-to-face meeting: Doppler’s response: The party attempted to read sincerity from Doppler’s statement (Scrutinize under difficult circumstances due to his masked face). Thindruk accepted the delay (a day) despite being offended by the tone and circumstances. Thindruk attempted to invite Doppler aboard the Dandy Fraulein for hospitality. The beggars disperse As soon as the armed guard arrived and then departed, the GM described the beggars’ behavior: Assessing the village’s condition after the guard encounter The GM described the overall village state: Discussion of the castle’s river access and approach The party considered traveling toward the castle by boat. The GM clarified: The castle sits on a cliff and is not easily accessible from the southern riverside. Approaching from the southern side would likely require: The dock at Wittgendorf is the most practical nearby mooring point. Party theory: the meteorite / warpstone and the lead box The party recapped their working theory from Dagmar’s writings: The party connected the village’s condition with the timeline: Considering leverage and optics The party recalled they had stripped Dagmar’s tower thoroughly, including potentially taking portraits/paintings. They discussed possible uses for recovered goods when dealing with the Wittgenstein family: The group’s attitude leaned toward suspicion: Decision: gather information rather than simply wait Splitting the party The party decided not to leave the boat fully unattended. They split responsibilities: Moving through town toward the Temple As Thindruk, Qavitrae, and Wanda walked through the village, the GM called for Awareness checks. Wanda noticed a building near the path that, despite earlier assumptions about a “boathouse,” had the sign and placement of an inn/public house. Wanda tossed an apple to the man. Qavitrae made a Scrutinize check about the man’s reaction. Qavitrae warned Wanda that locals might not trust food and suggested the party should avoid consuming anything from the town. Encounter with a well-dressed gardener Wanda noticed another unusual sight: a tended flower garden near a fenced property. The party approached the house. Education checks were made to identify the man’s style. The man greeted them, acknowledging they were not from Wittgenstein, and asked what brought them. He introduced himself as: Conversation details: Jean commented on elves and their rarity outside forests; Qavitrae noted she had spent roughly a century within the Empire. Qavitrae asked what brought him from Bretonnia. The party offered to share Bretonnian wine with him. Jean expressed interest in speaking with them and acknowledged: Dinner arrangements were made: Thindruk asked if Jean had a wife or partner. A villager interrupted Jean’s conversation: The party set the expectation that Jean would meet them for dinner around sunset aboard the Dandy Fraulein. Arrival at the Temple of Sigmar The party reached the Temple of Sigmar via a worn path, crossing a rickety wooden bridge over a stream. The GM described the temple as: Architectural and decorative details: Signs of neglect and stripping: Entry: Inside the temple: ransacked entry and missing alms The party entered the foyer/antechamber. The normal features of a Sigmarite temple entrance were damaged: The GM described frescoes depicting scenes from Sigmar’s life: Qavitrae immediately searched for signs of Chaos defilement. The GM called for Awareness checks. Qavitrae achieved a strong result; Wanda did not. Qavitrae found: Searching for clergy and discovering the burned quarters Thindruk called out for whoever maintained the temple (the priest), but there was no answer. The party moved to investigate the attached cottage/quarters around the back side. They found the cottage in severe disrepair: Evidence of a substantial fire inside. Part of the roof had collapsed. What was not burned appeared ransacked and smashed. Furnishings included: Among the ashes, they found remnants: The party looked for evidence of death: Dating the fire and identifying what burned The party attempted to determine how long ago the fire occurred. Findings from their careful inspection: The damage was not recent. Smoke odor was faint and only noticeable after rummaging. The cottage had been exposed to the elements: The GM concluded the fire likely happened months ago. It did not appear anyone had been in the cottage recently, possibly not since the fire. From the surviving fragments: Estimating the temple’s age The party asked how old the Temple of Sigmar might be relative to Dagmar von Wittgenstein’s activities. Based on architectural style and the statue’s style (supported by successful Education checks), the GM stated: Session end pointSession Notes