Chapter 1: The Enemy in Shadows

Agnes, who had grown up poor on the streets, can only think of a pot of turnips as a fine meal so she smiles at the gentleman, "Why thank you kindly!" She gives the man a smile and looks to her new friends with a different one.

"Well Artur, how does that sound? A bit past where we are going anyway right?"

"Of course, that would work. I was thinking you wanted to go there on foot on your own. I will not refuse to go and help the needy..." answers Artur with a smile, showing his goodwill.

Ralf walked through the mud-sogged road cursing his luck. He was supposed to reach his new post, but whatever happened, either by the fickle nature of fate or his own damn luck, this journey had been riddled with obstacles and problems at every step. He was soaked, his boots were squelching on the road, sending mud everywhere, absorbing the water, and keeping some stuck underneath the sole. Some unseen rocks will surely make short work of his old boots, so he watched his steps carefully while navigating the puddles on the road. These were Empire-paved roads, but unfortunately the toll gates have eaten up all the pennies instead of sending them for repairs. He smirked in disgust as more rainwater drenched his eyebrows, forcing him to adjust his hood and grasp the cloak tighter. Was it a stupid decision to leave the broken carriage and walk back to the coaching inn? Perhaps not. Who was going to get drenched in the middle of nowhere, with fear of getting robbed by mutants and bandits waiting to get afflicted by Morr's rattle? Not to mention all the weird travelling group who refused to return. It was better to get a place of warmth and atleast have a decent night's rest. Maybe he will meet another coach? All this time as he walked, he couldn't see any road warden, either. He instinctively quickened his pace in order to reach The Coaches and Horses.

Reuter tried to scrub off any residual mud before entering and waved at the innkeeper with a smile, "A broken axle in a puddle. Tis my unlucky day. Thanks for your hospitality again, but I feel much safer here, than waiting outside with a stranded coach. Has any more coach arrived? Or any road wardens? Times bad as it is. If the coach is not fixed, the road will be blocked in this rain."

He looked around the strange assemblage of people. Especially the slayer and the wizard. However, he was relieved to see a priest of Shallya.

At the mention of mutants he raised his eyebrows, "Tis bad news, that coach and its passenger can become a target of attack."

Ralf looked at the lady and then at the coachmen with a worried expression, "There is a coach broken and stranded in the middle of the road. Shouldn't you be worrying about what will happen to them? I suggest we move out today. Maybe we can lend them a hand?"

He then eyed the noblewoman's entourage and approached the servant woman, elaborately bowing, trying not to make a fool of himself, "A good day to you and your ladyship! When the horizon lies dark and gloom, the skies cry their endless complaints, your face and grace makes it worth braving the roads, so why you remain silent? By Sigmar's blessing, do I have the luck to stumble upon such beauty on my way through the Empire roads? My lady, pardon my intrusion, but I couldn't help but witness your distress. Your Ladyship is waiting for someone? The roads are treacherous; the weather more fickle than ever. Today's rain can become tomorrow's gale. I suggest your lady move to the next coaching inn immediately. Small steps to reach her destination and also a chance to meet the distraught carriage ahead. Judging by such a pretty woman, I believe your Lady has an equally compassionate heart to look after the common folk. So, I request you to beseech thy Lady to move immediately. Oh, and perhaps to witness such a beautiful a woman working for a noble lady, can I request a position within the carriage to make this journey memorable?"

Ralf nodded to the servant lady, "I see. Well, I didn't mean her Ladyship; I meant this all for you. But love is harsh, like the thorns of roses. Even if it pains, you hold it nonetheless. It was nice meeting you, lady beautiful."

He turned back and walked to the drunken coachmen, "Hoo there, gentlemen, 3 shillings is a tad more expensive. How about I buy you a round of drinks and you make it 1 shilling for me? I get to travel, you get to drink. What say you?"

Artur looks at the newcomer with interest, observing how skillful and enterprising he is. It makes him smile, all the more that his day obviously did not start under the best omen.

"I am Artur Dünn, nice to meet you sir Reuter. You don't seem to be wounded or sick in any way, but in any case, your spirits are up, which is a good thing! Where are you going exactly?" he asks, curious.

Ralf smiled as the priest came and greeted him, "Greetings, Sir Dünn, it is a reassuring sight to see a priest of goddess Shallya on the way. With the blasted weather and the constant downpour, it's a matter of time before the diseases start to spread. I myself was worried about contracting Morr's rattle, but by the goddess's blessing and Sigmar's will, I am still fine. I work on the riverways and am going back to Altdorf to be reassigned. Which is why I am in such a hurry, you know. The weather now is particularly bad with so much rain. Streams and canals are all flooded, which made me think that it would be a good year for my work. But, instead, river travel has shrunk and not much to do with flooded riverways."

She gives the newcomer a nods, "Well, it looks like we will be sharing a carriage. I am Agnes Cooperstreet, a student at the University." As if her white robe and sigils didn’t basically advertise that she was a wizard or most would say ‘witch’

Ralf eyed the wizard warily but gave her a worried but friendly smile. He had heard things about them, but someone from the University of Altdorf was not to be messed with. "Good day to you, ma'am. Are you perhaps returning to Altdorf?"

"It seems we are all going to Altdorf, for one reason or another. Thus our presence in this coaching inn!" Artur smiles, but seems dismayed at his own joke. He usually isn't used to speak humorously. He looks with suspicion at his mug. It has been a long night...