Return to Port Cadavo - Fluff Thread

[Pip]

Hi all!

This is a dedicated thread to collect all your background ramblings for the Lustria campaign. I'll be putting the campaign map and a round-by-round in-world "newsletter" up here once the first round gets underway.

Feel free to put up battle reports, short stories, or anything else you fancy!



Vicious fighting has broken out along the Lustrian coast as treasure-hunters and opportunists of all stripes descend on the lost continent's perilous shores. Reports come into Port Cadavo of bloody battles for the coastline's few safe harbours, and a deadly skirmish for access to the clean waters of Pirazzo's Pool from which a single goblin returned alive, followed some days later by a randomly wandering troll. Several jungle predators had tried to ambush it, but the troll didn't seem to notice them.

With countless generals and pirate lords preparing to enter the interior, the hunt for El Cadavo's gold is on...

[roland murat]

It had been a tough week for d'Albert. Leading his small band of scouts into the forests he had been forced to fight a series of desperate actions - oh why could he not have had an easy posting.

Barely an hour had passed since leaving the camp when he had been ambushed by a group of greenskins. A desperate scrap broke out but the Albion force was quickly on the back foot and taking heavily losses. If only something could be done about the troll. Sadly, it was not to be and d'Albert himself fell after being hit by a tide of vomit.

A few days later and the battered band found itself in combat with the same orcs once more. Splitting the party into four groups d'Albert ordered the advance. Two halberdiers ran forward and grabbed some treasure lying in the area whilst the cavalry pushed on to pressure the orcs moving up against them. The charge failed and the counmter included the thrice damned troll - once again bringing d'Albert crashing to the ground in a pool of vomit. But all was not in vain as the counter attack was held up long enough for both sides to be forced to withdraw into the gathering dusk with a share of the spoils.

Returning to camp the scouts bumped into a group of skaven, themselves retreating from a recent engagement. Sensing a chance to redeem themselves the ratmen launched a massed charged down a single path through the dense jungle. D'Albert launched a counter attack and cut down two rats before he was once more introduced to the floor. By then the already disillusioned skaven had been pushed back before they broke. At least now the Albion band would have a chance to recover from their wounds and d'Albert was sure he was moving a little quicker from all his recent practice with the sword.

A win, draw and loss in round 1 - bang on average. 250 gold gained and the leader gets +1 attack

[cunningmatt]

I've put up a quick report of Round 0 for my Elves over on my main blog *plug plug plug plug* - promise I will get my fluff up there soon. It is nearly done!!

Anyway Round 0 - enjoy: http://ogforum.co.uk/index.php?topic=2370.msg58282;topicseen#msg58282

[roland murat]

With his return to the main camp D'Albert brought word of an ancient treasure buried in the forbidding jungle. The treasure, it was said, was stored in a giant chest in the shape of a huge 50 pence piece.

Unable to resist a chance to gain a march on his rivals the Earl Derby gathered the troops closest to hand and struck out into the dense green canopy. He was not alone and the orcs and a host of fell demons had the same idea.

Clashing in the Witherspoon Valley (where else would there be such a bloody fight for 50p) the ight began with a cautious note. As the armies moved into position, the jungle stuck. Suddenly spooked a unit of spider riders fled for no real reason whilst quicksand and various other nasty encounters quickly took down half of the demons, including the general. It was thought the jungle itself sensed their evil.

Derby led a pack of ghouls forward to grab the objective, hoping his cunning strategems would stop him getting flanked. It wasn't to be. Surging forward bloodletters on foot and on juggers crashed into the undead ranks, cutting them down and Derby himslef fell in the ensuing melee.

Both armies were battered and the counts started to crumble. A desperate cavalry charge gained some success but it was to little to late. Streaming across the field the Orcs were destroying everything in their path. The valley belonged to the greenies.

[Steve H]

Do 50p's exist in the warhammer world?

[underscore]

Lustria Conquest: Day 1

Finally he had made it, despite the storms and catastrophes along the way, his ship had landed on the coast of Lustria. Plague Priest Furglich had spent years organising this campaign - the other clans were slow to come around to the idea of re-invading the Jungle-lands to begin with, and the idea of travelling over the giant surface-puddle upon floating sheds was even more outrageous. But here he was, gloriously sick from the terminable puddle surface but here nevertheless.

One by one the other ships of his fleet being to sail in. He presumed this was sailing anyway, the research his Eshin allies had brought him from the man-things were hazy on the exact definition but, sure enough, flying full-pelt at the shore seemed to do the job of being his army ashore.

And what an army it was to be! 10,000 Slaves had been drafted from the pits! 2,000 Stormvermin were watching over the 5,000 ClanRats! Eshin agents were everywhere and Skyre had sent all of the toys that could be spared for the conquest!

As soon as all the other boats arrived, then it could begin.


Lustria Conquest: Day 3

Furglich began to worry, only 2% of his ships had arrived! Where could they be?! Nevertheless, they would be here soon. For now he could send out his scouting party to search ahead.

But... where were the ships?! A fair number of the Eshin vessels had landed... were they behind this disappearance of his army? Though Furglich had few dealing with his sneaky cousins he had heard all about their treacherous ways. No. They could no be trusted.

The only rat he could trust was Gangrel, his trusty Censer Bearer. Despite the screeching protests of the Eshin runners, he was the rat to lead the scouting party. Besides, there was little in the way of fermented juice around for him to drink and he did get awfully grouchy when sober.

Lustria Conquest: Day 10

The ships finally arrived... piece by piece, they floated in. A mere 1,000 rats (or varying stations) came clutching to the debris. Starved, cold, useless. They even made a poor meal. No matter, Furglich had one more trick up his sleeve...

Lustria Conquest: Day 12

Word came back from the scouting party. Gangrel had certainly made his presence felt - where the treacherous Eshin runners tip-toed, he ran at full speed. Where they whispered, he screamed his God's message. Such a noble and pious friend. What a shame that they the jungle was crawling with man-things that might hear him. An even greater shame were the Eshin bastards found and set upon. Oh yes, in no way would Furglich ever want such a foul thing to happen to his 'allies'...

Lustria Conquest: Day 14

The preparations were well underway, rumours had spread that Gangrel and a handful of his party had survived encounters with man-things and warp-things, but had ultimately failed in their mission. This was bad. Should his allies hear of this they could be suspicious and the entire campaign would be in danger. The preparations had to be finished tomorrow. No matter what. Furglich needed his army. His army.

Lustria Conquest: Day 15

He could feel it was too early, in his bones he knew it. But Gangrel was due to make it back at any moment. So now was the time to act. Furglich began the chants.

Lustria Conquest: Day 17

Gangrel was tired. He had little juice left and had crossed many miles with his party. They'd moaned the entire way. Apparently his methods were unwise and brutish. He considered these blessings and ignored the Runner scum and their threats. He was nearly back to the camp, it was just over that hill.

'What's that smell?', he thought. It reminded him of the rot pits back home... such a sweet smell. Furglich must've already begun the process of brining the word of The Horned One to this forsaken land. Just over that hill...

...was not a rot-pit. Not a glorious shrine to The Horned One. Not an army of rat-things ready to conquer the jungle. There were the de-composing bodies, dis-embowled, headless and very, very dead. It was the most wonderful thing Gangel had ever seen. So much death, so much decay, so many... Daemons?!

Gangrel took in the scene, saving it in his mind. But he had been spotted. Or heard. He may have been chanting. Damn it.

His Runner friends had lived up their name, scared by the flame-skinned avatar of death who had finally registered their presence. Gangrel knew that he should've ran at him, adding his corpse to the many being crushed beneath the Blood Throne of this invading warp-thing. But something told him no... he was destined for greater things. He ran, ran after his fleeing regiment and the motley crew of survivors. With them he would win his renown.



Lustria's Reckoning: Day 1

What a strange, pathetic race, thought Cratak. He had no idea why the Priest had summoned him and his kind. The rat had taken no steps to bind him to his will, as others had tried in the past. He had just... opened the portal and hoped for the best! Had he been expecting one of his warp-cousins? Maybe an avatar of the pathetic entity these chattering idiots presumed to be a God?

No matter, he had been allowed though into the mortal realm once more and this time it would fall before him. As the last of the ratmen ran or were crushed beneath his mount Cratak made his mind up. His grip on this reality was sure to fail soon. But nearby there was an artefact of great power. That would be the key...

[Pip]

Governor Mendoza looked out of his window over the ramshackle roofs of Port Cadavo. The mosquitoes were whining and the birds were chattering in the forest. Their incessant racket had kept him awake every night since he'd landed here. Even now he could feel the dull, familiar throb of a headache starting to form. The rum probably hadn't helped.

Things were changing in the shanty town. It seemed half the Old World's exiles, treasure-hunters and rakes had washed up on these humid shores, and now the cramped alleyways of the settlement were thronged with sailors and mercenaries. The ladies of the night were doing a brisk business, as were the cutpurses and muggers. Mendoza had long since given up any pretense of regulating such activities. Port Cadavo existed solely as a haven for smugglers and mad merchants, running the gauntlet of Ulthuan's navy to bring ivory, spices and gold back to the civlised ports of Tilea. Trying to force law and order on the town was like trying to teach a feral dog to dance.

Now, though... the Governor had heard of bloody skirmishes up and down the coast. New finds had been opened, new claims staked. There had been sightings of elves, dwarfs, men... and worse things abroad. And as yet, no sign of the cursed lizard-creatures that inhabited the interior, other than the deranged ramblings of a few well-known troublemakers.

A man might make something of himself, if he chose his allies wisely. For now, however, the wise thing to do was to wait and watch.

"Jimenez!" he called, bringing his cringing manservant scuttling. "Compose a letter. I want the word sent out that we welcome newcomers to our shore. I will receive any who wish to have dealings with the port here in the residence." He gestured grandly at the peeling walls around him, before frowning at Jimenez. "You're not writing this down."

Jumping like a frightened child, Jimenez scrambled for parchment and ink.

"Set up the audience chamber downstairs for visitors," said Mendoza, gesturing loftily again. "And set out the Tobaro wine."

"S-Signor," said Jimenez, "we... had to throw it away. Grubs... got into the corks..."

Mendoza fixed his trembling servant with a stern stare. Then, with a sigh, he lowered his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Fine," he said, "Bring the rum instead."

As Jimenez scurried away, the squawking of the jungle birds seemed louder than ever.

[cunningmatt]

I've popped my fluff up here: http://ogforum.co.uk/index.php?topic=2370.msg58433;topicseen#msg58433

Just in case anyone was wondering where it was... no... ok, as you were.

[roland murat]

It had been a long week for D'Albert and his motley band.

Chasing raiders up and down a valley following some strange urge to carry a legless pig into an area marked by two crumbling statues had been hard work. As were the raids he conducted.

With cavalry at his disposal it should have been easy. Blast through the enemy line, hang about a bit then sneak over the line or, in defence use the horse in a flying full back role. But it wasn't to be for dice are a cruel mistress and no matter how close to success D'Albert came he always found a way to mess things up.

Still onwards and upwards