The Weight of the World is on Her Shoulders

False Identities

Craven Greenbrush 21
Johannas Gilden 13
Lloyd Sellshort 18

Leos Goldweaver 21
Cairn Fallgrin 20

Derric Dickest
Mellow jones infinty
Lanfire 116
Thormos 10

Derric Dickest - The master plan from the master planer.

The Master Plan:

instructions to scramble the egg

Step 1:
Acquire transplant basket to work as both base of operation and as hiding spot for the “egg” after it flies the nest.

Step 2a:
Scout the nest. ; determine all entrances, exits, and windows. Determine guard schedule.

Step 2b:
Scout Mommy and determine when she is in the coop and when she is out playing.

Step 3:
Use the worm to search inside the coup and find placement of “egg”.

Step 4:
Take “egg” to keep it warm:
leave pigeon symbol so they wont know who is keeping it warm

Step 4:
Bring the “egg” to the transplant basket while it warm.
If you could not get the egg out clean skip to Step 6

Step 5:
Wait for the “egg” to cool down.
skip step 6

Step 6:
Run to the fox
skip step 7 / 8

Step 7:
Drive the Egg across the kitchen

Step 8:
Meet up with the fox in the high den

Step 9:
Go to The living room and deliver the egg

Mikeil Renthove - Meeting Magnus and the Workshop
Gorim 4th, Octesh, 607 AR

The past months have passed by with out my care, Snow turned to flowers without me seeing it. After arriving in Berck almost six months to the date, the Steelheads turned me to Magnus. The man was as impressive as I had seen him the previous year, he carried himself regally, but held his abrasive tone. He told me little of his plans, but said that I may be of use to him as a tool against Cygnar in a few months time. Magnus then gave me directions to where I would be staying for the coming months, and a place where I could pursue my passions without the Academy holding me back.

The Steelhead Mechaniks’ Garage was an impressive sight, cranes, ’jacks, a dozen work stations, and a massive steam turbine against the far wall to power it all, it felt like the academy, but less clean, and less like a prison. The place had all the raw metal you could ever find use for, plates, blocks, bolts, rivets, nuts, heck, with the help of a former storm chaser I even got enough materials together to build a couple of storm chambers.

After settling in at station five, I tore into my armor to retrofit it with the caster plates I scribed on the train here. It’s a little more bulky without the compensating runes, but I can’t help but feel that the protection field will be invaluable in the future. After finishing my armor I pulled out the cortex I had picked up in Merin, cost me a small fortune, but with any luck I’ll have the chassis finished in about a weeks time. I finished the unique boiler last month, steams the water with electricity rather then coal, gives a nasty jolt if you try to refill in without insulated gear, but the ’jack should leave just a less noticeable vapor trail rather then all the smoke a soot.

Mikeil Renthove - The Journy North
Vendarl 2nd, Casteus, 607 AR

Traveling during winter will be the death of me. The boat to Steelwater was fine, the Market Railway was fine, but this blasted wagon leaves me frozen at night, and not much better during the day. I long for the warmth of a workshop, furnaces ablaze and the deafening pounding of machinery in my ears. I had started to sleep with my bag on the pother side of the wagon, any closer and it seemed to pull any heat I did manage to keep out of my body.
That was all until a week ago, when a troop of Khadoran soldiers and madmen decided it was prudent to blow-up the wagon in the middle of the night with me still inside. Seeing as I’m the one writing this, it’s really needless to say it was a bad idea for them in the long run. after dropping a few of the solders with my hand cannon, some of their rank went completely insane and sliced through their own men with swords as tall as myself. It’s a mistrey to me how Cygnar is loosing to these people when they prove as dangerous to themselves as they do to the enemy.
I did manage to secure an Orgoth Relic from one of the troops leader which almost made the fight worth the the week long trek into Armandor it cost me. The Staff seems to be able to protect me from spells with a little focus, I doubt I would be able to sell if for a decent amount anywhere around here. True magic is unwieldy in the best of times, not like Mechaniks you can calculate out, but the staff may still be invaluable if I find myself on the wrong side of a sorcerer.
Tomorrow I will be heading out on a chartered carriage to Merin where I hope to be able to find some more information on Magnus and the Steelheads.

Mikeil Renthove - Newfound Freedom
Donard 5th, Ashtoven, 606 AR

The past week was wrought with horror and violence, but rather then despair I’ve stumbled into the first true freedom of my life.
The journey to Highgate was pleasant enough; Darion kept to himself and his blade as per usual. I spent the trip working on a Mechanika light that would bind to my head so I could navigate that caves where our mission would take place. Arriving in the city rang true with my memories of my expedition here as a child, Highgate had surprisingly remained essentially unscathed by the wars in the past decade. A short stop at the government building gave us a map of the caves to the south where disturbances and eyewitness accounts of Cryxian activities. The map turned out to be wildly inaccurate and ultimately useless.
The caves were only a days journey from the city and we camped in the woods that night before heading into the earth the next day. The long tunnel was segmented into a lower and upper shaft with short ledges, the first two days were met with nothing but more cave, but on the third day we ran into a dozen Cephalyx Drudge, brutish beast-men controlled by the Cephalyx horrors that I was now sure we would find deeper in the caverns. After dealing with the troop we climbed into the upper shaft in hopes to avoid any more of the creatures, but instead found ourselves in the presence of some of the mind slavers themselves which turned out to be rather fragile in comparison to their enslaved muscle. Continuing along the ledge we reached a part of the tunnel that was clearly manufactured, which led to an immense chasm with a molten floor with a stadium suspended from the ceiling by huge chains and linked to the walls of the crevasse by twisting stone steps. As soon as the two of us stepped onto the platform magical looking gates sprang from the ground blocking our passage back, and waves of Drudge raced down the other stairways blocking our passage forward.
The battle left both of us in poor shape, and I doubt either of us would have survived without the others aid, but we managed to beat back the Drudge and Darion slayed the Cephalyx Overlord and the remaining Drudge regressed back into their caves, and for the first time in the cave there was true silence, even the drone of magic pinging from the cave walls stopped, the gates dropped, and we slumped down amongst the corpses and rested.
Another day of uneventful travel lead us to a an inlet, all evidence indicated that it had been in regular use lately and a look inside some stacked crates revealed they had been using the caves to smuggle necrotite onto the mainland, and was more then enough evidence to prove that the rumors concerning the caves held truth.
The return held little excitement until the man that would single-handedly usher in the next chapter of my life appeared. Darion and I were walking to the mouth of the cave, and just when it came into sight we found ourselves surrounded by men in cloaks with rifles trained on us, I knew I was dead. Darion reached for his glave when a hulking shadow dropped from the upper ledge, picking the knight up with a massive mechanikal hand and running him through with his sword the figure tossed him aside like one of Cygnar’s finest men was nothing, and then he turned. Magnus, Right hand of the old king, the scourge of Cygnar, the most wanted man in all of Immoren, he stood merely feet in front of me. He looked old, much older then he looked on the posters or in our history books. The Mechanikal arm reached out to me and held my shoulder, and he told me he had been watching me, and that I was better then what I was doing at the academy, and most importantly he told me to come find him.
I woke up on the cave floor. It was night. I fumbled around for my key, and wound my headlamp so I might be able to see. Darion’s body laid on the ground lifeless, blue gel from from the cracked storm chamber in his armor was mixing with his blood and pooled around his body. I took the glave from his hand, someone might say it’s what he would have wanted, but I know better. He would have wanted a proper burial, even if it was in the field, with the glave as his headstone until and officer retrieved it and gave it to the next storm knight. More then anything he wouldn’t have wanted to be dead at all, he wasn’t a coward, but I can imagine he would want to give up his life simply as a chaperon to some kid warcaster that the academy didn’t trust well enough to sleep without getting into trouble. But, Darion was dead, and what he wanted didn’t matter anymore, sure, they would find his body in a week or a month, his family would cry, but I needed money, and the unique mechanika would fetch me a small fortune on the black market.
The next day I was on a boat to steelwaters, I knew the Steelheads functioned out of Ord, so I was heading north, to my freedom.


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