Name: Cläven (Clay) Rädler

Age : 32 Description: Tall slim with long black hair; at first this man does not seem threatening; if not for his somber expression and 6.2 height.

Clay has a very tempered demeanor with a keen eye and a sharp wit. He often carries an arquebus (riffle), a crossbow, and or a pistol – essentially, you can be sure that he has something with a trigger near by. Clay doesn’t necessarily like flashy people and doesn’t make much respect for those who say a lot, but don’t do much. He likes to say that “words are but wind”.

Having been raised in Talabecland, he has a deep respect for the old Gods: Taal primarily, but also Ulric. He thinks that Sigmarites are fanatics and weird… for following a new God. However, Clay isn’t necessarily a super religious person –unless there is a ritual going on in the woods, then religion becomes very important as it is simply another reason to drink!!!

Origin : Born and raised in the city of Bek, which sits along side the Talabec River at the foot of the Great Forest. Cläven (Clay) was the oldest boy from a large family (5 brothers + 3 sisters for a total of 9 kids). Clay’s parents lived a very common life in Talabecland. His father (Stäphen) was a hunter and thought the boys to follow in his trade. His mother (Wendolä) kept home and watched over the children. Clay demonstrated a real knack for hunting, but decided to strike out on his own at the age of 15.

The house was small and Clay figured the Rädler’s didn’t need (or could afford) an extra mouth to feed. He then made his way to the bustling capitol of Talabheim and settled down in the Nordgate neighbourhood. Without any family or support system, Clay quickly develop an unorthodox network of friends and business partners:

1) Snorri Whitebeard: The dwarven owner of Snorri’s Pawnshop. For most people, Snorri’s is a place where you can find just about anything… for those who know better, they know you can find everything. Most notably, Snorri has a real talent for providing Talabheim papers for unregistered individuals – at a price of course.

2) Laecy (Lay-see) Norarm: Co-owner of the Rusty Musket tavern. Considered “home turf” by the locals of the Nordgate neighbourhood, the Rusty Musket is a rough-and-tumble tavern that caters to warehouse workers, blacksmiths, and other people that “work for a living.” Unless vouched for by a regular, newcomers are viewed with contempt and suspicion and are asking for trouble when they order a tankard. Bar brawls are common at the Rusty Musket, which sometimes escalate to full-fledged duels

3) Käc (Cac) Trueman: Entrepreneur and owner of Great Forest Hunting Adventure Company. Operating out of the nearby city of Küsel; Käc offers outsider nobleman and chance to live a true Talabecland hunting experience by offering a guided hunting tour straight into the Great Forest.

4) Eli Baker: Owner of Baker’s Butcher Shop (the irony is not lost on him, but most find it endearing). Eli’s shop is actually setup in the Old Market closer to the Wizards Way across from the Treeappels Inn where Clay lives) Career: True to his father’s teachings, Clay is a hunter. He specializes in the 4 Bs (Bears, Boars, Bats, and Beastman). However, he likes to say that he now covers the 6Bs including Bloated Buffoons –referring to the rich nobles that he guides into the Great Forest as part of his arrangement with Käc. The arrangement: 1) Käc find unsuspecting rich people who want to live a true hunting experience. 2) Snorri provides papers to get them into Talabheim. 3) There they meet Clay at the Rusty Musket and gear-up 4) Laecy makes sure all the men leave with a few bottles of Thunder-water to make sure the trip stays interesting and that their brains remain fuzzy. 5) Clay takes them on a goose chase somewhere near and pretends they are in the Great Forest. 6) They (mostly Clay) kill a deer, or a bear and then they drink some more and head back. 7) More thunder-water is provided, and some items and up missing. 8) Finally, everyone goes on their merry way; the rich folks have a few stories to tell and the 4 conspirators (Clay, Käc, Laecy and Snorri) have more silver in their pockets. 9) Clay will often bring his hunting trophy to Eli Baker’s Butcher Shop to make some extra coin – which helps to pay the rent and drinks!

Between gigs Cläven does in fact go hunting in the Great Forest and will sometimes go to Holler’s Corner to see if any of the notices on the boards and criers have a job worth his time. Clay doesn’t believe he and his friends are doing anything bad… but will often avoid passing by the obelisk of law; fearing that somehow that would jinx him and earn him a ticket to the hollows.

Fear. Fear can make a man do several of things. There is no doubt in my mind that it is fear that has kept me alive this long.

Grunewald Lodge had opened my eyes. For the first time in my life, I had been sobered by the reality that an estranged underworld coexisted with ours… not a skaven infestation… no… a realm of chaos that was shrewdly and slowly tethering itself to our plane of existence.

I did my best to forget about the demon in the painting… how it had so easily gauged its claws into Wieland’s rib cage and lifted him as it peered into his eyes with devilish delight. Thank Taal my shot was true that day. Even though Wendy bolstered a bolt right into the abomination’s eye socket; part of me doubted that anything would truly kill the damned thing.

My chance encounter with the man called Wieland Holtzjager had proved prosperous. This odd man had a fire in his heart that burned for justice (or Sigmar to be more specific)… however I sometimes wondered if the fire within was clouding his mind with smoke. Nevertheless, I would not have survived the lodge without him.

With Grunewald Lodge behind me, I took Vern Hendrick’s reward to hightailed back to Ubersreik. I quickly made my way down to the Red Moon Inn and started to drown myself in thunder water, but soon came to realize I would never be able to forget what I had witnessed. Although my new found coin made sure the drinks were coming-in steady, I knew I had to find another job to keep my sanity. I suppose you get busy trying, or you get busy dying… after all the next score would surely be easier than Grunewald.

I met Soek Weber, a merchant guild representative, at the Red Moon Inn; the man stuck out like an ungor at a fancy noble’s function! As much as I wanted to mess around with the awkward man, I needed the cash… but even more, I needed to stay busy. The deal was good; find the missing merchant –or his ring for that matter - and bring it back. Only problem was that once again I needed a partner. This is when faith kindly intervened a second time with yet another “chance” encounter. Now let me first start by stating that the odds of running into a high elf at the Red Moon Inn are pretty damn small… but finding an elf who is actually foolish (or desperate) enough to join a Talebeclander on a crazy-ass scavenger hunt halfway across the Empire… well that must fall somewhere between ludicrously improbable and completely impossible. Nevertheless, there he was pointy ears an all; my new partner Falandar.

Weber informed us that Stromdorf would be my next stop. Of course it was Stromdorf ! No way it could have been Telia or some nice warm place; no I guess nothing good comes easy… and I did have my eyes on that coin.

One good thing at least… as soon as Weber mentioned Stromdorf I knew Otto would give me a fair deal on the boat ride there, so it all seemed straight forward. Oddly enough my only real concern was the long-legged highbrow spark plug accompanying me.

Stromdorf turned out to be a whole other cup of tea (or Thunder water for that matter)! If not for the insane storm that destroyed the giant bridge,which in turn capsized our boat, if not for the beastmen that attacked us in the woods, if not for the eerie inbreed folk around town… then surely me finding Wieland in Stormforf was the sign that something bad was about to happen. What started as a simply gig, turned into a maelstrom of politics, ancient artifacts, and chaos magic. By the end of it, I met one Morr friend (you see what I did there.. that more with 2 rr); a young diligent acolyte of the cult of Morr named Valten Funeris. His demeanor was juxtaposed the cold stare of death with the warm comfort of life. In all truth, I had always steered clear of the black hoods before… we all end up meeting them as some point… so why rush it. Valten did have an unnerving familiarity about him… he was hard to read, but I could tell he was certainly wise beyond his years.

I often wonder whether I am blessed or cursed by these events.

TBD