| Warhammer Fantasy Role Play |
| THE OLD WORLD Sven tried hard not to be so tense, but it was difficult. His teeth were clamped tightly, and his mouth was dry; his knuckles were white from gripping the hilt of his sword, and sweat ran down his forehead, making his eyes sting. In the flickering light of three torches, and in complete silence, he waited for Abrahim to finish his work. Sven drew some comfort from the fact that most of his fellow colleagues were at least as nervous as him. Friedrich-Gustav, the young son of the Lord of the Auerswald, looked pale and sickly in the light of the brand he held above Abrahim. The boy-noble had proven himself in combat already, but now - at the goal of their quest - he looked greatly afraid of what they might find. Myllara's eyes shone brightly as she cast rapid glances in all directions, unused to finding herself beneath the ground; the elven Outrider had brought the safely through the wild lands around the Auerswald, but now she found herself in the most alien surroundings. And Elizabet - what was the Scribe thinking now? All through their journey she had chattered endlessly about her work at the University and her plans for the future. Suddenly that future looked remote. Four young adventurers, snatched from their homes and their safe careers by the lure of glory, easy money and excitement! Sven remembered his own days as a Fisherman as if they were someone else's memories; noe he was Sven the sword-wielder, a man perpared to journey even to the Worlds Edge Mountains to find adventure! And what better way to start than this? The strange-sounding Arabian, who had to keep his cloak wrapped tightly about him throughout the journey through the cold wastes, had brought them to this crypt, hidden beneath the earth, to find an ancient map, one which would lead them to find a great treasure. And since he had sprinkled Gold Crowns around the town in the search for his brave party adventurers, the prize must be well worth the finding! And so Sven waited, watching Abrahim work his slender tools inside the great lock on the door. The Arab made no sound, none at all, until the lock finally made a dull clicking noise, and he smiled his toothless smile. "It is open,", he hissed. His voice was in keeping with this creepy place, damp and unreal; he made ro stand up, pulling his cloak closer about him as if suddenly cold. And Sven felt that cold himself, a chill that settled upon his back as if something... For other information check out... Realms of Chaos - Slaves to Darkness Realms of Chaos - The Lost and Damned Chart and Tables |
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| Image of the Rule Book |