Dark_RP

Session Fourteen:

The Battle for Berlin: Part 1, Return to Outpost 9




With the others already seated as the Midnight Express pulled away from Stygia, Stringer and Hughcastle found the Ferryman that had denied the pursuing Grim Legionnaires entrance looming over them. Hooded and leaning on a crooked staff from which hung a glowing lantern, he regarded them for a long moment, before turning away and walking off down the adjacent dinning car.
As the others noticed that their comrades were also aboard a portly robed figure with a withered looking leathery face that was sat by the entrance to the gaming carriage remarked on their manner of entrance to Stringer and Hughcastle.
The man, who it soon became apparent was a Ferryman, introduced himself as Jonas, as Stringer and Hughcastle reciprocated. Jonas seemed more talkative than most, if not all of his fellows, and it wasn't long before Stringer and Hughcastle had seated themselves nearby and were engaging an a quietly revealing conversation with the enigmatic ghost.
They talked of the history of the Deathlords, of Charon, the present war, the lands of the Indian dead, and even the Boatman's Society itself.
However it wasn't too long before Jonas stood, took hold of his staff and lantern, cast his hood back down over his kindly face, and bidding them a pleasant journey, strode off down the carriages oncemore as of one of the most feared and awe-inspiring kinds of wraith that walked the Shadowlands.
During their journey they took the time to socialise with some of the other passengers and glean what information they could.
Countess Von Fenrig sat down with 3 ghosts of older American gentleman and played poker with them for a time, Stringer took Centurion Junker over to the roulette wheel and proceeded to advise him on how best to gamble away all his oboloi, Von Dekker shat himself and then silidly groin-raped the ghost next to him for no apparent reason, Franks went off into the neighbouring carriage, a former dinning car who's exterior dimensions did not match its expansive interior, and proceeded to play freestyle jazz-bugle for, amongst others, a group of heavily moliated Masquers, and was soon joined by an equally music minded harmonica man, while Hughcastle wandered between the various groups talking with friend and stranger alike.
They passed through New York first, as stringer looked wistfully out at her former home, then through London as Franks did the same and the Haunter Elias Van Hertzer disembarked wishing them well, and then Paris, scene both of their triumph and capture, before finally coming to Trebbin, which they had learned had both temporarily replaced Berlin on the Express's route due to the siege, and now served as the staging area for the Loyalist Legion's before their planned attack on Berlin.
They disembarked as the spectral train pulled up at the small skinlands station, and saw friendly Legionnaires on guard in the shadowlands.
They were approached by Agent Elizarov on the platform , having not seen him for the entire journey, he said that he had no business with the Legions there and would leave such matters to them. The enigmatic Masquer complemented them on their skills, wished them luck, and bade them goodbye, saying that he would see them in Berlin...

The circle reported themselves in to a nearby Iron Legionnaire on guard and were then led through the picturesque German town into the vast wraithly military encampment at its edge, fields of small hastily assembled storm proofed structures fashioned from freshly forged soulsteel, rows of relic armoured vehicles and tanks, and Legionnaires of the Loyalist and neutral Legionnaires, everywhere.
When they asked who commanded the force the Iron Legionnaire told them it was a Marshall Dresher. They asked to see the commander immediately.
They were led into an empty bunk room and told to wait there, approximately 30 minutes later they heard a commotion from outside and the doors opened.
A troop Legionnaires stomped in all appearing in the finest Prussian officers uniforms and wearing gleaming relic pickelhaubes as well as breastplates and arm and leg guards, they carried bayoneted relic rifles in a ceremonial fashion, and stygian steel swords hung from their sides. At their centre was a dashing figure bearing the insignia of high rank and wearing an Austro-Hungarian officers uniform with the symbols of the Iron Legion.
He came forward and introduced himself as Marshall Drescher of the Iron Legion, formerly of the Imperial Austrian Army. Seeming pleased to meet them all he shook all their hands one by one, addressing them respectfully and thanking them for their efforts in his rescue, saying that he had heard they had been on his tale since he was taken at Outpost 9. He then proceeded to listen to their tale.
He Explained their current tactical situation to them in brief, and then granted them a days leave in the camp before they will have to participate in the great push to free Berlin. No wraith can be spared, he said.
The Marschall then granted them the freedom of the camp, and deprted to attend to other matters on his busy schedule.
During that time Von Fenrig found, parked with the other armour that got out of Berlin in time or had been gathered from elsewhere, their old tank, Otto, still solid and in working order. Ernst Holm saying that he and some of the other enigeneers from their barracks drover her out of the city as it was falling, and that it probably saved their metaphorical skins.
The next day they were assigned the Otto, with Von Dekker to be flying air support. Their mission - retaking Outpost 9, believed to be either besiged or in enemy hands itself, as one of the first strikes in the advance on Berlin.
They are told that the Outpost was last manned by a group of veterans from the Penitent Legion's Skirmisher Corps, whose current status is unknown.
Shortly afterward they departed with the various other advance units destined for other first strikes before striking out in their own direction.
Once they take the Outpost they were to radio their success and await he main force before moving on Berlin.
Franks and Junker are also both assigned to the unit, with Centurion Junker commanding the men and Von Fenrig commanding the a7v itself.

The Outpost was about half a days drive from Trebbin in Otto, or about 2 hours flight for the Fokker DR-1.
while flying Ekhart encountered stronger storm winds with a swirling green edge to them and a flock of ailerons which he dispersed with his Fokker's machine guns.
By land the green fields and meadows were blasted and black in the shadowlands with nihils ocaisionally dotted around, they encountered a patch of mired arms emerging from the hardened mud, after ascertaining the patch's size from Von Dekker in the air he proceeded to get the tank up to full speed and blast the mired arms away as they charged through.

As they approached the Outpost Von Dekker landed his plane and they started to discuss their plan of attack when a stone was thrown at the side of the tank and they see approaching the Penitent Legion Skirmisher Corps commandos on their previous visit to the outpost, Thomas, Richard, and Harold.
After they had greeted each other the famethrower armed skirmishers told them that they were overrun there when the stormfront came in some weeks ago and had to tactically withdraw, they have waited in the overlooking hilsl for reinforcements ever since.
Shortly after, when plans were laid, their assault on the Outpost began.
As the tank cleared the crest of the hill Von Dekker swooped past overhead and began a strafing attack on the outpost, taking out exposed spectral soldiers wherever he could. Those in the tank opened up with both the main cannon and the many machine guns as they sped toward the outposts' doors and the armoured truck guarding them.
Though the A7V took a couple of hits itself, by the time they reached the target the truck had been destroyed and the skirmishers had leaped off from their perches on the vehicle's roof and began to exterminate the truck's shadoweaten crew.
Shortly after this Von Fenrig reversed the tank and smashed it headlong through the outpost's double doors. Soon after followed a slaughtering firestorm in that confined place of such ferocity that the spectral soldiers there had likely not experienced such a thing since their dying days in the Great War.
Cannon and machine guns thundered and rattled from the tank as flame washed forward from the flanking skirmishers.
Though uncountable shots rained down on the Otto none had the strength to pierce her thick armour, and the occupying spectres were soon destroyed and sucked down into the Labyrinth and the oblivion bellow.
As the skirmishers cheered, Hughcastle, Franks, Junker, Stringer, & Von Fenrig emerged from the tank as Von Dekker walked in, having landed his plane.
Outpost 9, the place were the circle's troubles had once began, was now back in Loyalist hands.

Session Eleven:

Chains of War



As the circle disembarked from the storm-beaten relic Ironclad under guard and then found themselves shackled both to each other, and other prisoners from the ship, one of whom at least they recognised from the Parisian Loyalist underground, captured during the same operation as themselves. As they looked around they saw that many of the other prisoners to whom they were chained, appeared half-shadow eaten and close to despair.
Other ships were docking in the Bay of Tears as they looked about themselves at the city of the dead, prisoners were unloaded from them, despondent ghosts all, and soon their group became a grim procession, down the long winding was at the edges of the city to the Iron Towers.
They are then marched down the long road while mounted and heavily armed Grim Centurions patrolled the line up and down in their soulforged Romanesque armour, with the black waters of the Sea of Sorrows occasionally lapping at the road's edges when it neared the shore of the great isle.
After a long forced march beneath the swirling red Tempest sky they came at last to a high bridge without walls, across which a terrible biting wind blew strong, forcing the circle and those chained to them to hold as steady as they could in crossing its treacherous distance.
Across the soulsteel bridge stood the ominous shapes of the Iron towers, a cluster of wide circular towers built on hills jutting above the waves adjacent to the Isle of Sorrows. As most of them knew, the towers had an ill reputation among the Legions having long been a place where excess prisoners were help, indefinitely.
Upon reaching the other side of the bridge they were immediately marched down through a wide tunnel beneath a yawning gateway, leading down to the subterranean realms beneath the tower's vastness.
Upon arrival they were unchained from one another and simply turned loose along with the other prisoners in their batch into the unending torchlit darkness bellow.

Upon regaining freedom of movement they soon encountered Albrecht Junker, Prussian Centurion of the Loyal Skeletal Legion and a member of the elite Hands of Bone, he greeted them warmly but conspiratorially and recounted his capture during the flight of his unit immediately after the rescue of Drescher.
Seeing the predatory groups of resident wraiths were now moving in on the new arrivals and beginning to harass those that seemed lost or weak somehow, they quickly took Albrecht aside and explained their plans for escape, and then the assassination of Chancellor Amistead.
Being as anxious for both escape and revenge, he agreed readily, willing to go along with their plans.
Soon after their initial discussion the Haunter Elias Van Hertzer suggested they first find some corner of their own as a haven, and make some contacts with the local prisoners as there is always a hierarchy in such places like this and those high up may know of potential ways out, or easily bribed guards.
The others agreed and they soon set off down the wide arched tunnels.
The majority of the prisoners they passed as they walked were Japanese, captured in the recent Russian conflicts, with some European, Indian, and African huddled in the dark corners of the prison towers.
As they scouted around the winding dark passages they soon came to realise that they stretched on and circled back seemingly forever beneath the towers, with the only real presence the guards had down there being at the few iron gateways that served as the only entrances and exits to the place.
Along the wide passages they saw many small tunnels and side rooms, all already inhabited by other prisoners who looked upon them mistrustfully when they investigated.
While walking they encountered a group composed of the ghosts of young Japanese soldiers who seemed friendlier than most others down there. Legionnaire Franks, being his usual affable self, engaged one of them in conversation, asking about the place in general, and who was in charge down there. The young wraith responded that there was a trading marked among the prisoners of that section in one of the larger chambers, and that the only organised power to speak of down there, aside from various gangs, was a shadowy group of Japanese wraiths known as the Bushido Clan, but despite Franks' questions he would say no more about them.
As they pressed on they saw that one of the side chambers they looked into was inhabited by a group deceased Japanese elders, sitting quietly beneath the glow of a single soulfire torch and talking among themselves.

The circle approached them respectfully, with Von Fenrig asking how them came there, and how long ago. Winning over the elders' initial mistrust they recounted the tale of conflict with the former Jade Ambassador, Xian Tsung, and how Hughcastle used a snipers bullet to send him to oblivion. Being great haters of the Chinese, whom they viewed as oppressors, they approved of these actions, and agreed to allow them to rest in their chamber for the time being so long as they made no trouble, for which the circle gratefully thanked them.
In talking with them more they heared yet more rumours of the Bushido Clan, guardians of the Japanese prisoners, occasionally seen wandering alone in the tunnels dressed as one of the old Samurai. When asked as to how one could contact this shadowy group, Takashima, the most vocal amongst them, said than honestly he did not know, but that if they went around mentioning the name often enough the Bushido Clan would probably find them, for better or worse.
They rested there in slumber for a time, recouping sorely needed energy while Stringer debated racial issues and the nature of life under Chinese rule with old Takashima.
The next day, or at least what passed for day there, they resolved to beging putting their plans into action, firstly they split themselves ino 2 groups, the first roup led by Centurion Albrecht and consisting of Hughcastle and Franks would go off exploring in one direction, while the second group, led by Centurion Von Fenrig and consisting of Stringer and Van Hertzer, would go off in the other. The agreed to meet back in 1 hour and departed.
Little of note was discovered by either group, aside from the fact that the further reached of the northern tunnels seemed to be overrun by shadoweaten wraiths fallen to their darker halves, and that one of the few gates was located to too far from their temporary haunt to the south, heavily guarded though it seemed.
Later that day they visited the marked and trading area, a bustling and cavernous chamber filled with what wretched relics ans soulsteel items the prisoners could get their hands on, as well as a few skilled wraiths plying their wares of Castigate, Moliate, or Usury, and of course arts more mysterious and of an Eastern nature.
They proceeded to mingle and talk with the wraiths present there, asking questions and picking up what information they could.
Stringer and Hughcastle both set up temporary shop and sold their use of the arcanoi they were most skilled with in return for yet more rumours and pieces of knowledge.
On many attempts they were met with either stony mistrust or aggressiveness, but there were also hopeful questions as to what is going on outside and in the shadowlands.
Some seemed to know more than they were saying, and made vague mention of the Bushido Clan, but alas nothing more concrete, yet still they now knew the direction they must likely take to escape the place, for they heard tell that the Bushido Clan seemed to come and go as they pleased without the knowledge of the guards. Each of them highly skilled in anal burger eating.

Later they returned to the chamber of the elders, discussed some of what they had heard with them and each other, and then resolved to rest once more and fell into slumber on the spartan floor.
During the quiet hours of night, they were woken, gently but firmly, by the blade of a sword.
Above them stood a Japanese wraith appearing in full archaic Samurai armour, yet with a period gas mask covering his face, or perhaps instead of his face, and from his shoulders hung a plain green hooded cloak, of the type issued by the living Japanese military.
He stood there a tense few seconds, before introducing himself quietly but firmly as Taro Isagi, of the Bushido Clan.
As the elders still slept he tells them to explain who they are and why they have been asking after the Bushido Clan, they respond by introducing themselves and recounting their actions against the Jade Ambassador that may well have prevented their transfer back into the clutches of the Jade Emperor, and that they still worked against this faction even now.
Taro seemed impressed by their story, though perhaps not altogether believing, and so with tones laden with supernatural command, he asked them to tell him what actions they had really taken, and upon hearing the same story twice now had no choice but to believe that the fantastical story was indeed true.
Pondering on it for a moment, he told them to wait where they were, and that he would return in the quiet of the next night to inform them if the Clan would help in their departure from the prisons of the Iron Towers. Gratefully, the circle agreed, and Taro threw up his hood and drew his cloak in around him, stalking of into the darkness and disappearing from sight.

While out wandering he next day Franks heard heard a familiar voice echoing down the tunnel where they where he walked, he turned and saw the "Sergeant Peterson" from Paris that has told them he would find a way to help them. As it was a rare sight to have a Legionnaire come among the prisoners, Peterson roughly grabbed him and pulled into the shadows as if for some reprimand. However once out of sight greeted Franks as a friend and tells him that he has only just arrived, and been stationed in the Seat of Burning Waters since he arrived, and that believes chancellor Amistead's residence to be in a tower adjacent to the Smiling Lord's palace. He says that he may be able to get them inside, but they will have to find a way out of the Iron Towers themselves first as he is not stationed there. He went on to say that he has secured a safe house near the ruins of the old Temples of The Shining Ones in the city, and that he will await them there, Franks replied that they have made a promising contact among the Japanese prisoners, and that they would do their best to make it to the safe house.
Sergeant Peteson retorted in his cockney way that they'd better, before hurriedly wishing him luck, throwing him out of the shadows oncemore and shouting Don't let me catch you at that again... and storming off down the corridor.

They spent the next day waiting in their haunt and conversing with Takashima and the other elders they had befriended.
Long after what passed for night had descended and they were in slumber once more a cloaked and armoured figure entered their chamber, rousing them quickly and quietly. Taro stood above them saying that his Master, Hirobumi Ito, has approved their leaving the prisons and continuing their mission.
Centurion Von Fenrig thanked him, before he added that if they are to leave, it must be now, an they must simply seem to have disappeared.
He bade them immediately gather their things.
They did so, and he simply said, Follow me, quickly and quietly...
He then turned away them rapidly down a sequence of the wide passages, his form hidden beneath his standard issue military green cloak.
He suddenly and without warning turned sharply down a side tunnel as they followed him down the passage that narrowed as they proceeded, then quickly squeezed through what looked like a crack in the rock of the wall. Once they were through as well hey saw that it was some kind of natural cave in the rock of the island, and then just as quickly, through another crack at the other side of the chaber, and onto a dark stair case in the upper guard's sections of the place. As they neared the top however Taro raised his hand and crouched down silently,a lone Grim Legionnaire walked past the top of the stair well going about his own business, but Hughcastle stumbles as he made to stop and that caught the guardmen's attention. He stopped in his tracks and peered down into the unlit stairwell, Taro moved suddenly and as fast as lightning, lunging upward with his sword and impaling the hapless Legionnaire, before driving into him and sending im tumbling over his shoulder down onto the stairs where the others waited. They quickly set about him with their chains, beating him into oblivion as a small nihil opened beneath him and sucked him down and away to untold nightmares.
Without hesitation Taro Isagi continued, dashing quickly along the corridor along which the Guardsmen had been walking.
He soon brought them to a small side exit that led out onto the bare and jagged rock of the island, from the doorway Taro pointed to a small cove around the corner from their position where there are a few small rowing boats were moored in the black waters.
He tells them to keep low and move fast, before dashing out under there ed glow of the tempest sky, taking cover behind varous rocks as he goes. The follow him without hesitation, and as stealthily as they might.
Once at the boats the wraiths of the renegade Loyalist circle begin to quickly untie them, and Taro tells them to keep low in the boat and go quickly till they hit the shore on the other side, and to prey they are not seen landing.
He also says that if they succeed in their task, for them to mention that it was the Japanese who helped them along their way, as it may help the plight of the prisoners.
They agree, and thank him one last time, before Taro executes a small bow and turns back to the Iron Towers, quickly disappearing from sight.
They jump into one of the boats and keeping low, take turns with the oars, going as fast as they could through the spectral black waters till hey hit the rocky shore of the Isle of Sorrows, beneath the great bridge that they had crossed some days ago.
After debating as to what to do with the boat, they decided to simply abandon it and make for the main city and the aledged safe house as quickly as they might.
They ran to the first buildings and then the first ghostly streets, quickly coming to the main urban areas.
They saw that the streets were bustling with ghosts, uniformed, robed, and dressed in anachronistic civilian attire, with many Grim Legion patrols as well as troops guarding busy crossroads. It seemed to them that the Smiling Lord's grip on this part of the city was a firm one.
Trying to simply blend in as they went, they at last came to the location of the ruined temples of the Shining Ones, shattered monuments to a God Charon no longer cared for.
Under Frank's direction they turned down a side street near there, just as Peterson had instructed Franks to to should they make it this far, and came to an anonymous looking relic town house. After looked at each other and then over their shoulders for a moment, they knocked on the door.
After a few moments the door opened, and there stood Agent Elizarov, of the Masquers, in his first and perhaps true form, though of course with his long stygian mask still covering his face.
He nodded, Ah Gentlemen, come in, I have been expecting you...