We headed for the solarium. The first thing we noticed was birdsong coming from behind the dirty windows. Martin scouted the place out. He wasn’t very subtle about it, either. Strolled right in. Inside we found feathered human bird-men with songbird plumage. Martin found a cabinet and fed them birdseed. They weren’t interested in talking with us so we moved on.
We passed by the gigantic pit in the center of the grounds. It was covered in tendrils of mist. There were bars over the pit. They were too close together for a person to crawl through the bars. There was a contraption allowing access to a door in the bars, but we left well enough alone…for now.
We entered the black tower. The place was infested with roaches. There really was nowhere to go but up, however, so we gingerly made a path to the stairs. From the second floor we could hear a harpsicord from above us. There were pictures of all the Von Wittgenstein brats, along with books on plants, poultices, and art, to name a few. Now, I do like books on art these days, but I don’t like the idea of taking them from a roach house. The books stayed.
On the third floor we found a grotesque roach-human hybrid of a man. Someone we might formerly have called a mutant, but who the Emperor has definitely called a citizen. He was playing the harpsicord. He offered us brandy. It was quite unnerving.
He told us many things. Among them was the von Wittgenstein family curse. He also told us that what we sought was in the main house. We couldn’t have left bug-boy’s roach loft a second too soon.
In the main hall, we found the floor to be covered in grease. There was also a table set with a rotten feast. A mutated butler greeted us and expected us to eat. Well that wasn’t happening. We headed downstairs. If there was a way to get to our boat, it was down.
Downstairs we found a polite ogre willing to give us directions. I mean, we didn’t question it. If you find a polite ogre, you get what you need and you leave ASAP. He pointed us to some spiral stairs going down.
Near the spiral stairs we found a secret passage. Inside was a huge lead-lined box surrounded by skaven. We figured we were better prepared and had better tactics than last time, so we attacked the skaven. Here’s a rule of life for anyone reading this account: There are always more skaven than you can see. Always.
This huge box, which matched the description of the one we heard that was made to keep the falling moon-rock, was sitting right beside a hole in the ground from whence the skaven were likely to have come. When we couldn’t beat off the skaven swarming out of the hole fast enough, we shoved the huge box down on top of them. Then, of course, we had to go after the bloody box.
In the hole was some kind of spell-casting rat. He was kind enough to illuminate the moon-rock for me so I could crush it, many times over, with my club. [EDIT: What this means is I failed a willpower check vs a spell and I was hallucinating.] Then, after the rest of his pack had been exterminated, I killed the magic rat, too.