Be vewwy vewwy quiet, I'm hunting witches...

Pan Blaszkowicz and his men didn't dare repeat the story of their vampire encounter at the derelict village, or at least, not while sober. But the strange smoky-green gem pieces, some bearing fragments of Latin text, demanded an explanation, and a fair market valuation if at all possible. The hussar made inquiries among noblemen, jewellers, and scholars of his acquaintance, and was eventually advised, in hushed tones with the curtains drawn, to see a certain Jan in the city of Kraków. Blaszkowicz and his men set out on their journey, unaware that their drunken tale-telling and furtive research had attracted the attention of another monster, albeit a much more human one...

Spending the night on a small farm on the way to Kraków, the Polish adventurers were ambushed by the belligerent witch-hunter Laird Tregowdy and his grim Calvinist henchmen. Surrounded by musketeers and archers, the Poles prepared to fight their way out, or face execution for their ill-defined but presumably quite grievous sins...

Poles at the farmstead

Laird Tregowdy leads from behind

face-off

witch-hunters from the northwest

witch-hunters from the southeast

Laird down!

Pancerni cuts down a Scotsman...

...but an archer's dagger finds its mark

A scary moment for Pan Blaszkowicz

a musketeer joins the melee

bow beats musket

The Armor of Faith

with Farber out-of-action, it's time to leave!

The Poles dealt a lot of damage, but the witch-hunters held on until the Poles got unlucky and failed a break test. The MVP was probably the Puritan preacher, who was able to occupy both Polish characters (and survive, thanks to his Armor of Faith spell), thus buying time for the flagellant/clansman to recover. Once the burly claymore-wielder was back on his feet, it was no great difficulty to cut down Sergeant Farber, which sent the Poles running.

Despite the victory, the witch-hunters got off worse than the Poles in the end. Sergeant Farber and the two Polish swordsmen recovered with no ill effects, But one of the witch-hunter musketeers died of his wounds, and Laird Tregowdy was robbed by peasants before he was able to rejoin his fellows. So, a Pyrrhic victory for the humorless fanatic.

(I'll post another, spoooOOOoookier battle tomorrow. I couldn't resist playing a witch-hunt today, in tribute to Thursday's congressional hearing. At least the Laird did better than his namesake!)