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  Ultima Forsan
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  WAYLAND’S SECRET!
  Part II of III
  Forbidden Alchemy
  Author: Darren W. Pearce
  Credits
  Published by GG Studio
  Production: Gionata Dal Farra
  Graphics and Layout: Matteo Ceresa and Luca Basile
  Cover: Francesco Saverio Ferrara 
  Interior Art: Francesco Saverio Ferrara, Gilian Pearce
  This game references the Savage Worlds game system,  
  available from Pinnacle Entertainment Group at  
  www.peginc.com.
  Savage Worlds and all associated logos and trademarks  
  are copyrights of  Pinnacle Entertainment Group.  
  Used with permission.  
  Pinnacle makes no representation or warranty as to  
  the quality, viability, or suitability for purpose of this product.
  ©2015 GG Studio, Ultima Forsan and all related marks and logos  
  are trademarks of GG Studio.  
  All Rights Reserved.
  www.ggstudio.eu
  
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  Forbidden Alchemy
  Darren W. Pearce
  
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  FACED WITH OVERWHELMING odds, courage is 
  rather like a river that bursts its banks in those who can call upon 
  incredible reserves of strength. So it was that Edward, Jane, and 
  Sebastian had theirs sorely tested as the Dead Horde swarmed 
  them, the cultists of the mysterious Blood Father closed ranks, 
  and the chanting high priest let forth curses in their direction, 
  spoken with a pus-flecked tongue, that dribbled with bile and 
  dark-formed cadence.
  Several of the Dead learnt first hand the strength of Sebastian’s 
  mettle, the young knight, emboldened by the proximity of his 
  comrades struck swiftly, before Friar Edward could even fire a 
  second volley of shots. The knight’s sword became thick with the 
  dark diseased blood of the horde, as he chopped, and hacked at 
  the thick bodies before him. He swung his shield around with a 
  bone-jarring crack and painted it with the ichor of the damned.
  It wasn’t long before he’d forced a significant gap in the sharp-
  clawed, black-toothed, flesh-gorged ranks of his foes.
  With an opportunity before them Edward was the second to turn 
  the tide of battle, the Baconian Friar’s two guns sent projectiles 
  into his enemies. Wayland’s Smithy was awash with spilt blood, 
  
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  viscera, and misshapen corpses as the Dead were blown to 
  smithereens.
  Jane threw her bow to the ground, tore her sword from its 
  scabbard and with renewed vigour against the horror before 
  her, struck hard and fast. She ignored the devilish tongue of 
  the black robed high priest. A few Dead got in her way and 
  were swiftly sent to oblivion, her goal were the living, and now 
  covered in the blood of her foes, she seemed to be far more 
  dangerous to these men, than they were to her.
  The crimson-covered spectre of the archer, as equally at home with 
  that sword of hers, sent a pang of fear into their mortal hearts.
  She met the first one with a vicious thrust, he doubled over, 
  spat blood and convulsed as she left him to die on the floor. 
  The second took a shot from Edward’s pistol to his ankle, bone 
  cracked, the smell of burnt flesh ripped into the air. Jane’s head 
  smacked into a third cultist’s forehead, broke the dark robed 
  woman’s nose, before Jane’s sword sliced horizontally down and 
  spilt more blood.
  “The lass’ possessed of some fire there,” Edward noted and 
  chuckled with it. “I’m oft not one to distract during a fight, 
  but ye’ve got to admit -- she’s got mettle a plenty to wade into 
  that lot.”
  “I think Father,” Sebastian smacked his shield forward and 
  then followed up with his sword into the throat of a fourth 
  cultist. “Now is not the time for a battle commentary. Best we 
  concentrate on the enemies at hand, then talk of victory over a 
  mulled wine later eh?”
  “Alright,” Edward huffed and let another volley loose. “We’ve a 
  high priest to deal with, and a site to investigate afore that.”
  Jane ignored them both, she was consumed by a pure and 
  unbridled desire to end these Dead, their masters, and to ask 
  questions of the dying. Normally she’d put herself at range, draw 
  on the strength of her bow arm, not this time -- this was an hour 
  for blood and steel, boldness, and shattered enemies.
  
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  The last defending cultist faced Jane with as his hand trembled 
  on a dagger, she came forward like a panther. He stabbed at her 
  twice, she twisted and rammed her sword into his chest so hard it 
  came out of his back. Her strike continued with such momentum 
  that it took her clean across the intervening ground, caught the 
  high priest by surprise and the tip buried into the man’s side, a 
  mix of blood and pus burst forth under pressure, like a lava blast 
  from the side of a volcano.
  “Ye gods, what filth animates your master’s ruined flesh?” Jane 
  said and tore her blade from the dying man’s chest. She redirected 
  it to hack at the high priest, who still tried to level curses in her 
  direction. As she swung again and again at the man, he spat his 
  vile syllables at her like knives. The dark intonation in a language 
  she did not understand tried to unbind her spirit, to break her 
  will, shatter her mind.
  Jane was furious, and her anger acted as a shield against the worst.
  His blasphemous tongue darted out, the tip of her sword took 
  it off, and finally as he lunged at the woman with his own cruel 
  weapon -- a dagger made from the thigh bone of a child, she took 
  his head off and most of his shoulder as his flesh tore like paper.
  Sebastian finished with the last of the Dead and turned around 
  slowly, “Did not the priest speak of a ‘willing sacrifice’?” He asked 
  and kept alert for more of the ravening horde.
  “I believe he did,” Edward huffed and slowly lowered his pistols, 
  the tips once more glowed in the torch-lit clearing of Wayland’s 
  Smithy. “Something about a soddin’ Blood Father, and a willing 
  sacrifice sets the edges of my nose a’twiching with thoughts 
  o’conspiracy and more. So be careful around that entry to 
  Wayland’s Smithy, Jane m’lady.”
  Jane turned to look at him, fierceness, Independence, and 
  willfulness in her eyes. Then with a smile she nodded, stepped 
  back from the corpse of the high priest and cleaned the blade on 
  the grass, and gravel.
  All eyes turned to the entry to the inner part of the barrow, and 
  Sebastian’s sharp hearing picked up the sound of heavy breathing. 
  
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  “I don’t wish to worry either of you, but do you hear that from 
  within?” The young knight quirked a brow and pointed with his 
  blood-drenched sword.
  “I do,” Edward nodded and he quickly dug out ammunition, 
  reloaded his guns and kept them prepared. “I’ve a feeling that our 
  willing sacrifice might just be another casualty of our war against 
  this darkness.”
  Jane remained silent and crouched down, cat-like, her eyes fixed 
  on the entry.
  
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  THE SOUND OF breath in ragged gasps came forth from 
  inside, now they could all hear it, one breath, two, three, and 
  then more. Rapid, staccato, disturbing. Thin fingers latched onto 
  the first curve of stone, embraced it like a lover might, then a 
  distended-looking corpse-like pale skinned shape curled from 
  within, a macabre birth from the entryway of Wayland’s Smithy.
  Lank dark hair matted around a once-human face, the so-called 
  willing sacrifice had been a young woman from the local area. 
  But now, all traces of humanity was gone, her skin carved with 
  symbols that seemed to drink in the light, butcher the sanity of 
  those who glimpsed them, and gleam with an unearthly sheen.
  “I don’t know about you, but that high priest has a strange idea of 
  what makes for a willing sacrifice,” Friar Edward observed, quite 
  disturbed by the undulating symbols across the pale skin of this 
  naked woman. “This looks more monster than maid.”
  “I concur with you good Father Edward,” Sebastian steeled 
  himself behind his shield and moved closer to the friar. “Do you 
  perhaps have any ideas on what kind of spawn of the dark powers 
  this might be?”
  “None,” Edward said. “Reva might know, but as you probably can 
  see, she’s not bloody well here.”
  
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  “Gentlemen,” Jane said and moved back to her bow. “Argue later, 
  concentrate on the monster -- now.” She lay the sword down and 
  took her weapon of choice in her hand, felt how comfortable it 
  was compared to the steel she’d held earlier.
  The monstrous creature that left the barrow stood up, near seven 
  feet in height, it loomed upward as it uncurled from a half-crouch. 
  Mutated by something terrible, the woman that once was, was 
  definitely no longer there. A hideous scream rent the night, the 
  torches around them guttered but managed to hold strong.
  Jane gripped her bow against that sound and then with a swift 
  motion she sent an arrow into the creature’s chest, just below the 
  right breast that sagged there, pale and near-translucent. It might 
  as well have been shot into porridge for all the effect it had, the 
  monster turned its head and a black tongue lolled forth from 
  within a mouth lined by pallid lips.
  As the creature moved further away from the dark entryway of 
  the barrow, it bent again, almost backward, hands became like 
  legs and the head turned with a sickening crunch to view the trio 
  from a new vantage point. The arrow that stuck into the monster’s 
  chest, now broke, and the point poked up out of its back amid a 
  trickle of black blood.
  “God preserve us.” Sebastian said and moved to guard both friar, 
  and archer.
  The young Hawkwood knew that it lay upon him to shield his 
  companions from the worst, their skills were not in close quarters, 
  but in other areas. And whilst Jane’s display of swordsmanship 
  against the Dead, and their cultist masters, was somewhat 
  impressive, her skill with the bow would serve them better in this 
  instance.
  “Keep at range,” he warned both his friends. “I’ll draw the 
  monster to me, deal with it as best I can. For England, the 
  Queen, and God.”
  He did so, and the monster was eager to engage him. He heard the 
  scrape of claws down his shield, felt the impact as the monster’s 
  toothy maw slammed against it as he strode forward. He engaged 
  
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  the once-woman with all the fervour and courage demanded of 
  him as a Knight of the Garter.
  Bravely, thought Jane, and not once did she think him arrogant 
  or stupid.
  Edward was duly impressed and moved to a new vantage point, 
  he ran around the back and vaulted onto the top of the barrow 
  cairn. He used Wayland’s Smithy as his new place from which to 
  send gunfire into the creature’s back.
  A gruelling fight followed, and Sebastian had to battle to save 
  himself from a gruesome death. The monster was quick, oddly 
  so for such a jagged frame, and it took the combined efforts of all 
  three of them to bring it low. Whilst not quite a Tyrant, this beast 
  took arrows and pistol shots galore from both the archer and the 
  friar. The knight chopped and hewed his way through the thing’s 
  thick skin, blood spattered his armour and stank with the echoes 
  of decay, and rot.
  It seemed like they fought against it for over an hour, and Sebastian 
  sank to his knees once the thing crashed to the ground, broken. 
  He gasped for air and tore off his helmet, to cough harshly at the 
  stink that flowed forth from the defeated monstrosity. A creature 
  that now hissed and bubbled on the earth, it turned the ground 
  sour where it lay.
  “Are you alright laddie?” Edward clambered down off the top of 
  Wayland’s Smithy.
  “I will be,” Sebastian said and waved his right hand to the friar. 
  “The smell is rough, the beast is like a dozen unwashed serfs on a 
  heady summers morn.”
  “Ah, I know that smell alright.” Edward peered into the shadow of 
  the entry. “Jane, if you want to stay out here, I’ll take a look inside. 
  I think we’re done for cultists, Dead, and whatever that blasted 
  thing was for now.”
  “I hope so,” the archer answered and began to collect what arrows 
  she could, many of them hadn’t survived the creature’s best 
  attempts to prolong its existence. “I’ll keep an eye on Sebastian 
  here.”
  
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  “Grand, grand,” and with that said the Baconian Friar vanished 
  from sight into the dark below the stone monument. “I’ll not be 
  long.” His voice echoed from inside. “Ooof, it reeks in here too.”
  Whilst Jane and Sebastian remained outside, the Friar ventured 
  further in. The smell was as he’d mentioned previously, terrible. 
  It clung in the air like a fetid cloak, and as he picked his way 
  over masticated bone, chunks of gristle, animal carcasses, and 
  human remains -- he discovered a makeshift altar at the back of 
  the room. He ventured no further into the dark without aid, he 
  took a sip from his flask, picked up a discarded torch and lit it. 
  As the flames of the brand blossomed he was able to fully take in 
  the whole room.
  The altar was an unpleasant thing of black stone, covered in dark 
  marks, blood of dozens of sacrifices, and worse. He approached it 
  carefully, he dared not touch the foul thing. He did spy out of the 
  corner of his eye a pack, perhaps it once belonged to the cultists 
  who dared to perform their dark rituals here.
  Father Edward set the torch into a convenient gap in the stone 
  and poked the pack with his foot, perhaps he expected a trap, or a 
  snake, or a pustule covered arm to lurch out of the ground at him. 
  Nothing happened though, so he gingerly took it, and opened the 
  container to sift through the contents within.
  He found a few parchments that detailed blasphemous ritual, 
  and other objects that pointed to the dark purpose of the cult. 
  No mention there of the Blood Father, but there was a curious 
  scrawled letter that he could just about translate. He gleaned from 
  this several words, chief amongst them were castle and Goil.
  “Castle Goil,” he said to himself and waved the letter before the 
  fire to see if the flame revealed anything that might have been 
  hidden there. “Nothing else, but what of Goil...”
  Edward had a choice, he could keep the blasphemous relics and 
  the pack, pass them on to others more learned than himself -- or 
  send them to the flame, and torch the pack.
  He picked up the torch, tossed it onto the pack and retreated out 
  of the interior. Choice made, some doors should remain firmly 
  
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  shut against the dark -- it was best to leave this out of the hands 
  of even Reva Flynne.
  Smoke followed him, and the flicker of flame as he emerged back 
  into the moonlit night.
  Jane saw the look on his face and put down a cloth where she’d 
  been cleaning her sword. “Is all well with you Edward?”
  “Aye lass,” he said and shrugged. “Nothing in there save for 
  blasphemy, the relics of the damned, and things left to rot. All’s 
  been put to the flame, but we’re not lost. I’ve a feeling we’ve to 
  take a trip to Scotland next.”
  “Oh why?” Sebastian looked up from where he’d been cleaning 
  his shield, where he’d managed to wash off some of the ichor with 
  the help of a water skin. “A clue to the cult perhaps?”
  “I found a letter, was buggered if I could translate all of it. But I 
  saw castle and Goil, now it’s been years since I was there, I was 
  but a lad when I visited that place, not yet even a monk of my 
  order. But I can tell you, the Laird was a good man back then. It 
  worries me that Goil is mentioned in dark rituals and writings 
  that I found. So that’s where I’m going next.”
  “To Scotland then,” Jane said without a thought. “It’s settled, I’m 
  coming with you.”
  “Lad?” Edward looked to the knight.
  “Oh yes, of course I’ll ride with you to Scotland. I’ve never been, 
  but it’s a knight’s task to stay true to his friends and to fight 
  against the tide of darkness where ever it might be. If Scotland is 
  where we need to go next, then Scotland is where I shall follow 
  you both.”
  
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  THEY DECIDED THAT no more could be learnt from 
  Wayland’s Smithy, and after they piled the dead into a haphazard 
  collection of limbs and bodies, they set fire to it. At least it would 
  not attract wild animals, the undead, or worse. The trio found 
  their mounts and moved on swiftly now, as the night continued 
  to remain fairly clear, and the moon as full as can be.
  The wind dropped colder as it got later, and they made their way 
  via horseback towards the North. They had a twelve day ride to 
  get to Scotland, through the Kingdom of Jorvik, with the mighty 
  City of York (Jorvik) as a possible place they could rest, water, 
  feed, and take stock.
  Their horses could manage about thirty miles per day, and they 
  saw no need to push their mounts with constant gallops through 
  the English countryside.
  So day after day passed, and the three companions spent their 
  time in idle conversation. They talked of a great many things 
  during that time. Edward was curious of Sebastian’s order, and 
  Jane likewise had heard tall tales of the Garter. The young knight 
  was eager, and cautious as he explained as they rode.
  
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  Their minds were also firmly on their goal, and the mysterious 
  name of the Blood Father echoed in their thoughts as they made 
  camp night after night.
  It was on the sixth night of their laborious journey, camped under 
  the shade of a magnificent oak, with the glimmers of life all around 
  them. Villages, settlements, cities gleaming in the distance with 
  firefly-like torches, that Jane prepared them an excellent feast of 
  well cooked rabbit, herbs, and even a few root vegetables they’d 
  been able to barter with from a local farmer.
  “It was grand of that farmer’s wife to give us these few potables,” 
  Edward said and grinned at Sir Sebastian. “Even though it was 
  you who had to work for them.”
  “I minded not,” the knight tucked into his meal. “Chopping 
  wood, carrying buckets of slop, and aiding the good lady with 
  some more of her chores was more than enough payment for the 
  bounty she bestowed upon us.”
  Jane offered an impish smile and nodded. “Her daughter seemed 
  to like your chopping technique.”
  “Oh yes, she did.” Edward nodded with a chuckle. “Her eyes were 
  on stalks as you swung that mighty axe about, bet she thought 
  one of the old legends had come to life there.”
  Jane burst out laughing and earned a sour, but amused look from 
  the young knight.
  “Mock all you like, but we now dine like kings and queens thanks 
  to my ‘technique’ with an axe.” Sebastian dug his knife into a 
  hunk of steaming potato. “And do not think I’ve forgotten Lady 
  Jane, it was you who cooked us this meal, even though it was not 
  required of you.”
  “I did it for my friends, I wanted to. We’ve shared such adventures 
  already, I am only too happy to contribute some of my father’s 
  skill to this endeavour.” Jane replied, she mixed a blesh with a 
  half-smile and turned to look at another night’s sky.
  “You’ve a grand skill lass, I’m all full, and there’s more we can 
  store for the morrow’s journey.” Edward lay back on his blanket, 
  
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  put his head against his own pack and sighed. “It’ll be odd to 
  return to my homeland. Not been there in a long time.”
  With their supper consumed and more banter to follow, they 
  talked into the night. Then they settled down to rest, before they 
  had to repeat this once again. 
  Six more days lay ahead of them in the grand journey to follow. 
  They broke camp early in the morning, just before first light, and 
  once again took to the road. Their horses took them across the 
  valleys and lands which lay before them.
  Edward was somewhat eager to be in Scotland, especially Castle 
  Goil, so he led the small group through a shortcut between two 
  massive forested areas, bypassed York and put them squarely on a 
  road north towards the Highlands that beckoned in the distance. 
  The seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth days kept them busy as they 
  crossed paths with knights errant, a small community of pilgrims, 
  and even a lonely monk on the road toward York in the distance. 
  They skirted these groups, kept their distance, and travelled on.
  The Highlands in all their majesty loomed closer one mist 
  covered morning upon the eleventh day, Edward sat forward in 
  his horses’ saddle and chuckled. “There, see that, the peaks of the 
  mountains in the day’s early mist. That’s love right there, there’s 
  no land more bonny than Scotland. Och, the glens, the fiefs, the 
  beauty of it. Still gorgeous now, even after we beat back the Dead 
  at Hadrian’s Wall.”
  “I heard about that battle, it cost more than half of your able-
  bodied folk of Scotland did it not?” Sebastian looked into the 
  grey-white distance, the blanket of fog was impressive, but not 
  enough to blot out the highs of the land before him.
  “Aye lad, terrible, but ye know even though we lost most of the 
  Lowlands, we still own this land.” Edward nodded to himself. 
  “She’s still ours.”
  Jane adjusted her cloak and hood, she took a deep breath and felt 
  the difference in the air. “It’s wonderful Edward, a beautiful place 
  even though she’s dressed in a gown of mist.”
  
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  “Wait until you see her without,” Edward replied with a throaty 
  chuckle. “The gleam of sun, or moon upon the Loch Goil, ahh 
  lassie, there’s no sight to warm the heart or incite poetry than 
  that. Save for perhaps the fire of a Highland lass’ hair, and the 
  glint in her eye come bedtime. Or like a wild mare just waiting to 
  ride across the moors, grace personified.”
  “You have such a wonderful turn of phrase my friend,” Jane 
  observed with a smile of her own. “I look forward to seeing such 
  a sight as the light upon the loch, but perhaps I shall leave the 
  Highland lasses to you both.”
  Sebastian remained quiet on this subject, he drank in his friends 
  light-hearted banter.
  
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  THE TWELFTH DAY loomed upon them and now 
  they crossed the border from England into Scotland, the sense 
  of landscape changed with it. Gone were the small English 
  settlements, and hamlets, with the people still toiling in the fields. 
  This was a rugged, but beautiful landscape, with a glorious splash 
  of colour as the purple tips of heather danced in the wind. 
  Here and there upon their way to Loch Goil, they saw the ruined 
  skeletons of broken settlements in the Lowlands. These were like 
  grave-markers, examples of the Dead’s relentless advance before 
  they were finally stopped in their tracks at Bannockburn. 
  Edward made no comment on this, and out of respect nor did 
  Jane, or Sebastian. It was another day’s ride to Castle Goil and the 
  monk was eager than ever to move on.
  A small patrol chanced upon the trio as they rode across the 
  countryside, they’d just headed across a patch of ragged grassland, 
  through a small river, and now they were onto the road again 
  which led to the loch. Here and there they saw the shapes of 
  Brochs, incredible feats of indomitable architecture. Built before 
  the current populace claimed Scotland as its home. It was from 
  one such Broch that the small patrol seemed to have come, and 
  now they stopped the travellers from going any further.
  
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  “Hold there one moment,” a heavy set man with a thick accent 
  rasped at Edward. “You and your friends, why come you to our 
  bonny land?”
  “Father Edward Connelly, monk, wanderer, and scholar of the 
  Baconian Order. These are my friends, the valiant Sir Sebastian 
  Hawkwood, and the gracious Lady Jane Redmere.” Edward 
  tipped his hood off and revealed his beaming face. “I know you 
  Sir Jonathan Salter, knight o’ the Broch o’ Gillen.”
  “Well bugger me, Edward you old goat!” Jonathan’s face split into 
  a smile. “I remember you when you were a tiny fart of a man, no 
  more than well, as big as yon lass’ left boot.”
  “Bah, I was bigger than that!” Edward grinned.
  Jane looked to Sebastian and back to Edward. “These are friends 
  of yours good friar?”
  “Oh aye lass,” Edward nodded enthusiastically. “At least he is, 
  don’t know the two whipper-snappers with ye. They new lads?”
  “Aye, pretty wet behind the ears, but good lads both.” Jonathan 
  nodded back. “Lady Jane, Sir Hawkwood, the pleasure is mine.”
  “And mine Sir Knight,” Jane replied with a gentle tilt of her head. 
  “Any friend of Edwards must indeed be a man of great skill, and 
  superb character.”
  The two men with Jonathan looked at their commanding officer, 
  back at each other and then said nothing. Their lack of words 
  could have been taken for amusement.
  “Please good lady, you do me more honour than I deserve,” 
  Jonathan was quick to deflect as he blushed a deep shade. “So 
  Edward, where are ye off to, why’re ye here?”
  “Business of the order in Loch Goil, investigating something 
  from England that’s brought me here old friend. Perhaps I could 
  trouble ye for an escort, unless ye’ve upset the Laird?”
  “No, Laird and I get on just fine, he’s good pals with the ruler o’ 
  our Broch actually. I’d be honoured to escort ye all to Castle Goil.” 
  Jonathan replied and moved his horse to the head of the group. 
  “Follow me then.”
  “Grand friend,” Edward winked at his companions. “Just grand!”
  
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  Their small company now bolstered by the three knights made 
  excellent time down the road, they passed a few more burnt out 
  settlements. At night they camped in a copse of ragged trees, and 
  with Jonathan’s watchful eye upon them slept as safely as they 
  could in a land that might still harbour remnants of the Dead 
  Norman Horde that railed against the great wall.
  By the morning they were close enough to see the shape of Loch 
  Goil’s magnificent Scottish castle in the distance. By the eve of the 
  thirteenth day they rode by the side of the loch as the sun turned 
  orange, and reflected beautifully in the water just as Edward 
  claimed it did.
  Up from the loch perched on the higher land was the castle of 
  Goil, a beautiful construction, picked out with flags of the ruling 
  clan de Bruce. For many years it’d been a second home of sorts to 
  the clan, their family, and friends. Edward remembered happier 
  times here with his parents and felt a pang of sorts for the old 
  days.
  The small group turned eastward and up a ruddy road toward 
  the castle proper. Half a mile later they stopped by the first guard 
  house and waited patiently.
  After a while a woman strode out to greet them, her ginger hair 
  shone in the dying light of the sun, and her skin was covered in 
  small scars, likely from battle. She looked the group up and down 
  and blinked at Edward.
  “I’ve not seen you since you were a lad,” Anna de Bruce laughed. 
  “Edward Connelly, blow me sideways. I was a slip of a kid when I 
  last saw you, and we played in the mud over that very wall!” 
  Edward gave an embarrassed grin. “Anna,” he said quietly. “Good 
  to see you as well.”
  “You ran your naked backside all around this courtyard and 
  screamed that not even God would catch you,” she looked at the 
  monk’s robes. “Looks like he caught you by the arse and dressed 
  you too.”
  Jane stifled a laugh, but the men couldn’t help it, everyone save 
  for Edward shared in some small humour from this revelation.
  
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  “Now you’ve seen fit to share with the whole courtyard my errant 
  youth, might we impose on your Laird’s gracious hospitality. I’ve 
  a matter to discuss with someone here, and it’d be grand if we 
  could get in out of the cold. Not for me, since I don’t mind the 
  wind whistling around my legs. But my friends here, they might 
  relish some warmth, mead, and a better place to rest than grass?”
  “Aye, you can come in. I’ll tell the Laird that he has guests later, 
  he’s a bit under the weather at the moment, and I’ll see to it that 
  you get some good rooms. Don’t want to billet your friends in 
  draughty castle accommodation.” Anna de Bruce gave a wicked 
  chuckle and turned on her heel.
  “We’ll come in for the night as well Anna, if you’re fine with that?” 
  Jonathan asked of the woman as she made to return to the castle.
  “Aye Jon, ye and yours are welcome too. Stop gabbin’ and get in 
  here.” Anna replied and carried on with her route to the castle 
  gate, which rolled upward as the mounted travellers approached 
  it with her.
  
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  WITHIN THE CASTLE’S inner courtyard they were able 
  to leave their mounts at the stable, the six of them stood for a 
  moment and heard the wind howl through the stonework before 
  they followed Anna through a large door. Edward knew where 
  it led, some of the best rooms in the castle, the guest wing of 
  Castle Goil. He could only imagine how they might have changed 
  over the years, and whilst the castle was a relative simple design, 
  the interior echoed the de Bruce’s desire to bring Scotland into 
  the deeper mysteries of the Renaissance going on elsewhere in 
  England, and the rest of the world. 
  “I’m impressed,” Edward mused as he walked along the hall 
  behind the ginger haired warrior. “It looks like Aileen de Bruce is 
  having quite an effect on the world around her.”
  “Aye Edward,” Anna nodded and turned her head to look at the 
  rest of them. “If you don’t know, and by some of your blank looks. 
  Not you Jonathan, stop smirking there -- Queen Aileen de Bruce 
  is forward thinking. She’s trying to drag the rest of these mud 
  wrestlers out of their insular existence.”
  Jonathan hid his smirk with a cough and just ignored Anna the 
  best he could.
  
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  “That is good,” Jane interjected. “I’m sure that Friar Edward 
  would be happy to assist in that, perhaps it might even further 
  our goal here.”
  Sebastian examined a nearby tapestry, one that marked the heroic 
  battle of Hadrian’s Wall. “I agree with Jane.”
  “Sorry, we’ve not been introduced yet. Edward I know, and these 
  buggers I know, but you are?” Anna tempered her brogue for the 
  guests.
  “Lady Jane Redmere, and this is Sir Sebastian Hawkwood.” Jane 
  replied with a curtsy, and a tiny grin.
  “Hawkwood, well that’s something. A royal Hawkwood o’England 
  here in our little castle.” Anna snorted a little and shook her head.
  “I’m not one of those royals,” Sebastian said with a snort of his 
  own. “I am a Knight of the Garter, and not a pompous royal arse 
  as you might say.”
  Anna warmed to that somewhat and said with a sly smile. “There’s 
  hope for you yet then.”
  The warrior led them to rooms and made sure they were 
  comfortable, she then took Edward to one side and dragged 
  him off down the corridor away from everyone else. Whilst they 
  were in the shadow of a large red and gold curtain she placed her 
  hands on her hips.
  “Alright, spill it Edward, what’s going on?”
  He looked back and forth and nodded. “You always were a sharp 
  one Anna, and as beautiful as you are bright. You know my order, 
  you know our penchant for inventions, secrets, and the like. I’ve a 
  friend who delves into other areas, she put me onto what appeared 
  at first to be a fantastical tale. But after investigating things with 
  my two new friends, well, lets just say that we’ve found a bugger 
  of a thing. Fought something I cannot explain, t’was not a Tyrant, 
  nor was it typical undead. This was something nastier than those 
  buggers can be.”
  Anna listened and her nose wrinkled now and then when Edward 
  spoke of the Dead.
  
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  “There’s more, I found a parchment and upon it was written 
  blasphemous ritual and words. Amongst those words, Castle 
  Goil.” Edward confided in her, but he secretly watched her 
  reaction.
  It was shock, not shock at discovery, but shock at the castle’s 
  name. Her face paled and he saw her shrink visibly. “You think it 
  might involve the Laird?”
  “I think so, and I fear it might be worse than that.” Edward nodded 
  several times. “This monster was made from a human woman, 
  her soul twisted, her body twisted by cultist’s dark power.”
  Anna’s pupils dilated and she shook her head. “Our Laird’s been 
  sick for a few days.”
  “Oh?” Edward fixed her like a hawk upon this revelation. “What 
  symptoms?”
  “Fever, blood, coughing. We thought it might be something on 
  his lungs, but the healer couldn’t find any trace of a sickness 
  that he knew. He left some medicine for the Laird, and he’s been 
  taking it, but getting worse.”
  “Who was this healer?” Edward’s heart sank.
  “A man, trusted by the clans for years. Kevin McDairmid, he 
  wouldn’t have done something like this would he?” Anna gripped 
  her friend’s arm.
  “I can’t honestly say yes or no, I don’t know the man.” Edward said 
  honestly. “We’re dealing with a cult here, people we know might 
  be part of it, friends we’ve known for years. Respected members 
  of the community. If the cult is doing something now, then their 
  agents will show their true colours.”
  “Oh God, what if it’s too late?” Anna fought back a wave of 
  revulsion.
  “Then by God we’ll put the Laird out of his misery before anything 
  can happen.”
  Famous last words often spoken in the heat of emotion can come 
  back to haunt you, Edward knew this, and when he heard a wail 
  of screams come blasting into the corridor from downstairs -- he 
  knew that he might have spoken all too soon.
  
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  Voices roared through the castle, echoes of words such as, “He’s 
  gone mad, he’s gone mad. Save us.” Reached both their ears.
  “He?” Anna said and ran toward the sound.
  “Wait Anna, damnit.” Edward ran after her, his robes flapped 
  around his ankles in a most ungainly manner.
  The sound had drawn the attention of Edward’s companions, as 
  well as the knights from the Broch. As Edward ran after Anna 
  back down the corridor to the source of the wails, the terrified 
  voices, and now screams -- he yelled to Jane and Sebastian. “Bring 
  your weapons, remember Wayland’s Smithy. Anna, grab a bloody 
  sword!”
  Anna barely heard him but his orders registered somewhere and 
  as she shot past a statue, she pulled a claymore off the wall next 
  to where it stood. The weapon was bigger than her, the woman’s 
  muscles stood out against her simple sleeveless jerkin as she 
  hauled it off the stand.
  “Perhaps a smaller one might have been easier?” Sebastian 
  remarked as he rushed back to get his sword and shield. “One 
  day we’ll go to a place and we won’t have to use these.”
  Jane looked back and forth, ran back into her room and took up 
  her bow with half a quiver of arrows, the ones that had survived 
  from Wayland’s Smithy.
  
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  CHAOS REIGNED IN Castle Goil’s lower hall, armed men 
  and women ran toward the outer courtyard, some with spears, 
  some with halbards, and many with swords. They had fear in their 
  eyes, but a stalwart determination as well was kindled within. 
  Anna, Edward, Sebastian, Jane, and Jonathan plus his men joined 
  their rush to see what was going on in the dark of the courtyard 
  beyond the great doors.
  In many ways some of them wished they hadn’t. The laird, a man 
  once in the gentle embrace of a graceful old age was naked in the 
  middle of the courtyard, his skin shredded and bleeding, his eyes 
  bulged almost out of their sockets. Around his feet were three 
  dead bodies, two were his servants, with blood trails that led from 
  the Laird’s private wing to the heavy stone flags of the outer area.
  The three had been butchered quite effectively, their entrails 
  looped around their mutilated bodies. Laird Conner de Bruce’s 
  hair had fallen out in places now, and sharp spines protruded 
  from the crown of his head, like thorns. It seemed, like the woman 
  at the monument in England, that he was in the middle of some 
  monstrous change.
  
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  “How is this possible.” Sir Sebastian shouted over the screams 
  which came from the once-human laird. “Our cultist friends 
  again, Edward?”
  Edward snorted and gave a nod of affirmation. “God yes, I believe 
  so Sir Sebastian. A terrible thing to happen to a once great man, 
  a man who would have given his life now to stop the monster he’s 
  become.”
  Anna was upset, but also angry, she mustered her courage and 
  held her ground.
  Jane moved to a higher vantage point and knocked an arrow, she 
  closed one eye and took a deep breath.
  The jagged piece of glass that once-Laird Connor had used to 
  wreak havoc upon the servants now dead at his feet was once 
  more taken up, the creature looked at it, and then laughed.
  Jonathan could not believe his eyes, and his sanity rocked a little 
  from this monstrous being. He ran at the creature and screamed. 
  “For de Bruce!”
  As he did so the monster snapped forward, a sickening crack 
  resounded, and spines of bone broke forth through the creature’s 
  chest. At the same time it embraced the charging knight and 
  dragged him in like a Venus Fly Trap. He screamed in agony as 
  the sharp spines pierced his leather jerkin, cut through to his 
  organs, and then his scream was cut short as in an eye-blink the 
  ragged glass worked quickly across his throat -- his head hung on 
  by a thread as blood bathed both dead man and monster.
  “God preserve us!” Sebastian dug into his robe and shook his 
  head. “Stand back, this thing is no mere Dead!” He took out a 
  sphere and turned the delicate clockwork mechanism three times, 
  it began to click and turn. With a growl and a hurl he tossed the 
  ball at the monster’s feet. “In the name of the Lord, be at peace! 
  Shield your eyes!”
  What followed, thanks to the secret science of alchemy and the 
  knowledge known to the order was a tumultuous explosion. 
  Chemicals held in suspension, carefully selected, and partitioned 
  off in the sphere ignited with a fury that could have come from 
  
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  the Lord himself. Fire, smoke, thunder, and light all combined 
  in one gigantic area to turn the stone beneath molten, and the 
  beast caught in the explosion was set alight, blown asunder, 
  and charred into a grotesque statue of melded flesh and bone 
  all at once. 
  Those close enough to be caught in the shockwave from the 
  blast, which included a few of the castle’s guards, knights, and 
  the two knights who served Jonathan were knocked off their feet. 
  Those who did as Edward ordered blinked in the aftermath of his 
  explosive device’s work.
  “By God man,” Sebastian said as his ears rang with the explosion. 
  “Remind me never to irk your order.”
  “Science,” Edward said sourly and shook his head. “A wonder, 
  and a weapon.”
  Anna sank to her knees and let the claymore drop with a clatter. 
  “Conner,” she said quietly and then shouted. “Why you bastards, 
  the man was like a father to me.”
  “Grief and shock.” Edward observed and he walked over. “Anna, 
  it’s me Edward. Lass, come now. Time for that later eh, you’re 
  a warrior daughter of our glens. Conner wouldnae want you to 
  blart like a bairn over his corpse.”
  Anna steeled herself and nodded. “I’ll be fine, just give me a 
  minute. Then we have to talk.”
  “Aye we do, because I want to find that bugger healer you told 
  me of and wring his bloody neck.” Edward put out his hand to 
  the warrior.
  The rest of the courtyard was stunned, they just watched their 
  laird become a monster, and then a wonder of the Baconian 
  world detonate before them. It was a lot to process all at once.
  Jane lowered her bow and leaned on the stone balcony before her.
  Anna took Edward’s hand and ordered one of the guards to take 
  up the claymore she’d dropped. “Edward, you and your friends 
  come with me. The rest of you, clean up this courtyard.”
  There was a lot to do and Anna once more took charge.
  Edward was pleased about this.
  
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  ANNA LED THEM to a secluded room in the castle, sat 
  down and her shoulders drooped. Edward, Jane, and Sebastian 
  filed in and took up positions there before a low burning fire. The 
  light of the flames cast warm shadows around the frugal room, 
  only a few furnishings broke up its barren look and cold stone 
  walls.
  “I want Kevin McDairmid dead Edward, I’ll even pay you and 
  your friends to do it.” Anna said harshly and  glared at the fire.
  “You do not need to pay us for this my lady,” Sebastian said with 
  a shake of his head. “If this McDairmid is the source of what 
  transpired today, it will be my pleasure to hunt him to the ends of 
  the world if needs be -- and end him.”
  Jane nodded and added. “I feel the same way, only less dramatic 
  of course.”
  Sebastian frowned in her direction.
  “Anna told me that Laird Conner grew sick, and fell into a 
  fever and so forth. A healer came, one the clans trusted. Kevin 
  McDairmid. He left the laird with a potion to help him recover.” 
  Edward grumbled and paced the room. “I would bet my friar’s 
  arse that the concoction was some blighted alchemy tied to this 
  damnable Blood Father.”
  
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  “I think you are probably right,” Jane nodded and regarded the 
  fire as Anna glared at it still. “Perhaps Anna will let you examine 
  what remains of the potion?”
  Anna turned her head at her name and nodded numbly. “Aye, 
  why not.”
  Edward mused on this and then sighed. “Tis an idea, do you know 
  what happened to McDairmid, Anna. Where did the bugger go 
  after here?”
  “He said he’d got business in Ireland now as I come to remember 
  it, I wished him well.” Anna sighed and looked to the fire again. 
  “I hope his damn ship sinks on the way and the bastard drowns.”
  “It will likely take us some time to charter a ship to Ireland, 
  Edward. Perhaps we might be best served here for a while?” Jane 
  observed and looked to Sebastian.
  “If Anna wishes for us to stay, I see no reason why we cannot 
  investigate this castle for clues and then perhaps if you both are 
  willing, we go to Ireland?” Sebastian saw Jane’s look and answered 
  as he watched all three of them.
  “Anna?” Edward ventured.
  The Highland Warrior pondered this and smiled against her 
  heartache. “Aye,” she replied with a soft whisper. “It’ll be nice 
  to see Edward’s face around here for a few more days, my heart 
  screams revenge, but my head tells me to listen to your counsel. 
  You’re welcome to stay as long as you need. Come morning I’ll 
  see to it that you have access to Laird Connor’s rooms and what 
  remains of his medicine vials.”
  “Thank you Anna,” Edward smiled a little sadly. “I’m sorry for 
  Connor.”
  “We will mourn him as tradition demands, not as the monster he 
  became in his final hours.” Anna replied.
  “Aye we will lass, aye we will.”
  Sebastian and Jane moved to the door.
  “Goodnight Anna, thank you for your hospitality.” Jane said and 
  slipped out.
  
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  “I echo what my friend said,” Sir Sebastian Hawkwood gave 
  her a formal bow and left Anna and Edward alone for now. 
  “Goodnight.” He followed Jane through the doorway.
  Edward kissed Anna on the top of her ginger-haired head, smelt 
  the smells he remembered as a young boy and smiled to himself. 
  “Night lass, don’t stay up too late brooding. It’s not what Conner 
  would have wanted for ye.”
  Anna tapped the friar’s left hand, her fingers lingered a while 
  before they let go. “Goodnight ye old goat.”
  Edward left her alone in the firelight of the room, closed the door 
  and traced his way to bed. When he finally closed his eyes he 
  was tormented by the sight of the woman from Wayland’s Smithy, 
  and now Connor de Bruce, Laird of Castle Goil. How many more 
  would perish before he was able to find the secret of this Blood 
  Father, would he and his friends be next?
  Finally he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
  As the Scottish Highlands slumbered, things that walked in the 
  dark were abroad, and a twisted abomination leapt upon its prey 
  - it ended the life of the badger with a rip, a tear, and a howl of 
  bestial rage.
  Such was the way of things these days.
  FIN!
  
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  AT LAST...
  Forbidden Alchemy is a story set in the universe of “Ultima 
  Forsan”, a game setting developed for the Savage Worlds rules.
  The “Ultima Forsan” universe exists for the game and for the 
  gamers, and what follows is a roundup of gaming information 
  for those readers that would like to start playing straight away. 
  We hope the readers not (yet?) interested in gaming will find the 
  additional informations on the story background interesting.
  Thanks for reading, and have fun!
  
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  Ultima Forsan: Wayland’s 
  Secret II Bonus
  Wayland’s Secret II is a follow on adventure from the first one, 
  but there might be reasons why you don’t want to use the same 
  characters, or perhaps you’ve only picked this up as a stand-alone 
  adventure-story. So we’re going to treat it like so, ignoring the 
  established story characters, and putting the player characters 
  right in the thick of it.
   
  HOW TO RUN WAYLAND’S SECRET II AS AN 
  ADVENTURE
  Just as we did with the previous adventure, we’re going to break 
  this one down into key scenes. The first scene needs a little setup 
  to get it ready for play when using new characters, or if you’re 
  going from Wayland Secret I you can just bring your established 
  adventurers and NPCs along for the ride.
  SCENE 1: NIGHT FIGHT
  The battle at Wayland’s Smithy happens in the first part of 
  the story, but since we’re looking at starting here from scratch 
  – this is how you get the players involved into the scenario 
  from the get-go. Pick a player character that has strong ties to 
  someone, a friend, a powerful NPC in their local community, 
  a Baconian Monk with a lot of interest in the occult and 
  determined to stop the darkness from spreading. If you’re 
  continuing from part 1, you can ignore most of this setup and 
  move right into the battle with the Barrow Woman.
  The players are drawn into the scenario by this 
  NPC, they’re asked to travel to Somerset and to 
  investigate 
  a 
  place 
  known 
  a 
  Wayland’s 
  Smithy. 
  If you’re interested in the actual site itself.
  
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  The barrow serves as a focal point for a dark ritual which for the 
  purposes of this adventure has already concluded, leaving behind a 
  surprise for the player characters sent to investigate the ancient mound.
  A group of ravenous undead are waiting for them, and an 
  aberration-like monstrous humanoid, the remnant of the ‘willing 
  sacrifice’ victim.
  The player characters arrive at the Witching Hour and see the site 
  in relative darkness; only a few torches remain lit. There’s a group 
  of undead here who will ambush the player characters, diving out 
  of the tree lined roadway up to the barrow teeth bared.
  You can handle this fight regularly, with about 4 or more undead 
  as normal monsters, throw them down as Extras and boost the 
  numbers a little to 6-8, or you can use Pinnacle’s Quick Combat 
  rules and have a whole horde come chomping down on the player 
  characters.
  UNDEAD 
  These are a group of flesh-hungry undead, probably from a nearby 
  farm, possibly in the tatters of their former peasant clothing.
  Husks (1 per hero, +2)
  Attributes: Agility d4, Smarts d4 (D), Spirits d4, Strength d6, 
  Vigor d6
  Skills: Fighting d6, Notice d4
  Pace: 4; Parry: 4; Toughness: 7
  Special abilities:
   
  ✴ Claws: Str+d4.
   
  ✴ Bite: Str+d6.
   
  ✴ Dead: These creatures have all the Special Abilities of the Dead.
   
  ✴ Shuffling Gait: Husks cannot run.
  
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   BARROW WOMAN
  This encounter begins the moment that the player characters 
  have defeated the undead, or in the case of the adventure part 1 
  – killed the cultist, his followers, and the undead. They will meet 
  the Barrow Woman, a horrible twisted half-formed pale-skinned 
  Dead monstrosity with lanky black hair, naked as the day she was 
  unborn, and covered in pulsating marks.
  She’ll come out of the barrow entry and unfold before their eyes 
  the moment they go anywhere near it. She’s guarding the secrets 
  within, or perhaps she’s just been left to kill anyone who snoops 
  around. She’s also an experiment of the Blood Father’s dark 
  alchemy.
  The Barrow Woman (Wild Card Abomination)
  Attributes: Agility d8, Smarts d6 (A), Spirits d6, Strength d8, 
  Vigor d8
  Skills: Climbing d6, Fighting d8, Notice d6
  Pace: 6; Parry: 6; Toughness: 8
  Special abilities:
   
  ✴ Claws/Bite: Str+d6.
   
  ✴  Dead: These creatures have all the Special Abilities of the Dead.
   
  ✴  Extended Limbs: The creature’s claws have Reach 1.
   
  ✴  Fear (-2): The creature’s twisted body and devilish stare cause 
  a Fear (-2) test.
   
  ✴  Go for the Throat: When fighting unarmed, Possessed 
  instinctively go for an opponent’s soft spots. With a raise on their 
  Attack roll, they hit the target’s most weakly armored location.
   
  ✴  Hardy: Possessed do not suffer a wound from being Shaken twice.
   
  ✴  Improved Frenzy: Possessed may make two Fighting attacks 
  per round without penalty.
  
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  ✴  Weapons: Possessed can use weapons, and they can often 
  be seen brandishing melee weapons to kill the living before 
  devouring them, most of all if in life they were soldiers or fighter.
  She should be a tough fight, certainly no pushover. Once she’s 
  dead, she’ll quickly turn into a bubbling mass of fetid flesh, and 
  twisted limbs.
  It frees the player characters to carry on with their mission, the 
  exploration of the inner part of the barrow.
  Within the barrow they’ll find the following clues.
   
  ✴ A bone-bladed dagger, though the blade is made of bone it’s 
  pitch black and covered with a mix of blood and strange herbs.
   
  ✴ A flint altar, covered in scratch marks, bloodstains, stains from 
  unknown chemical compounds and herbs.
   
  ✴ Several bloody clubs – quite possibly from cultists who’ve 
  beaten victims to death within the barrow.
   
  ✴ Bodies of at least seven local area victims, many in various 
  states of dismemberment, many missing vital organs.
   
  ✴ A leather satchel/pack that contains the clues to the next part of 
  the player’s journey. In the story you don’t really find out what’s in 
  the satchel beyond blasphemous writing, and the two important 
  words that Edward makes out: Castle Goil.
  For players that want to dive deeper into the contents of the 
  satchel, there’s a bunch of documentation written in the dark 
  language of the Blood Father’s Cult: a version of Latin which has 
  certain key shifts, a few changes, and should be extremely hard 
  for anyone beyond the members of the cult to translate. It details 
  an experimental form of Blood Alchemy and Transmutation 
  which can be applied to a human host, the first example of that is 
  called the Barrow Mother. The player characters will have fought 
  her to get this far.
  The notes are incomplete, so the rituals and the alchemy can’t be 
  learned by the player characters, not as though they should be 
  
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  learning these kind of dark arts in the first place. But what it does 
  do is point them directly toward Castle Goil.
  If they’re players from part 1, then Edward or any other involved 
  NPC will want to investigate this immediately.
  If not, then they should remember they’ve got a friend who wants 
  them to look into this matter.
   
  SCENE 2: TO SCOTLAND
  The journey to Castle Goil, by the side of Loch Goil in Scotland, 
  is one that takes around 13 days give or take, with an average 
  speed on horseback of roughly 30 miles per day. During this time 
  there’s a lot of countryside for the players to encounter various 
  friends, or foes in. You might want to leave the characters alone 
  in their travels for a few days, depending on where they are in 
  the countryside. You can also throw encounters at them once per 
  day, and once per night as well if you want to make things more 
  interesting, yet preserve some kind of structure.
  Roll a d6, and on an odd number something happens from the 
  table below.
  Roll a d12
  1.
  A curious effect, something like an ill wind, or a strange 
  sound will draw the characters attention. Nothing else 
  happens; it’s just something sinister or odd.
  2.
  A group of travelling monks crosses the path of the 
  characters; they’re on a pilgrimage to York.
  3.
  A group of bandits tries to waylay the characters, this 
  could turn violent, but the bandits aren’t fools – they’ll try 
  and surrender if they get too badly beaten.
  4.
  A lurching mob of ravening undead bursts out at the 
  characters, it’s not a massive horde so they shouldn’t have 
  too much trouble dealing with it.
  
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  5.
  A Fell Beast attacks the characters; some mutated animal 
  sick and stricken with the plague. Perhaps a wolf or even 
  something like a deer.
  6.
  A ragged band of serfs, or even displaced villagers, they 
  have a tale of woe to tell the characters – this could even 
  become a side quest. An ignoble lord has thrown them 
  out of their houses so he can develop the land, and so on.
  7.
  A group of patrolling knights on horseback ride by, they 
  stop and engage the characters in conversation before 
  they move off.
  8.
  Nothing happens, their journey proceeds as normal.
  9.
  They discover the remains of a broken cart, dead bodies 
  everywhere, there’s a 50% chance that 1d4 of these bodies 
  will rise again and attack the characters.
  10.
  A travelling merchant is heading down the road, she could 
  ask the player characters to escort her until she reaches 
  the boundaries of York. It’s on the way toward Scotland.
  11.
  A man running from some danger, it could be undead, it 
  could be bandits, or it could be worse. He’ll run right past 
  the characters screaming unless they stop – he’s also quite 
  mad, driven near insane with fear.
  12.
  A Baconian Friar’s body is found just off the side of the 
  road, the man’s body is still warm, and a trail leads to his 
  killers. A small group of vagabonds is picking over the 
  man’s meagre belongings. What will the characters do?
  The characters can also encounter villagers, friendly folk, not 
  so helpful landowners, and farmers who they can approach 
  for provisions should the need arise. Just like in the story, the 
  characters can barter food for services rendered – chopping 
  wood, milking cows, protecting the farm at night from wild 
  animals or monsters.
  We probably recommend throwing one such encounter with a 
  friendly farmer in just before they hit the border of Scotland. This 
  
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  allows for some great downtime and gives the characters time to 
  get to know each other as well in a fairly relaxed setting.
  SCENE 3: SCOTLAND, BONNY SCOTLAND
  On the dawn of the 12th day of their journey the characters will 
  cross the border from England, to Scotland. They scenery here 
  is rugged, demanding, mist-shrouded and beautiful all at once. 
  With huge swathes of bonny heather and mountainous domains 
  as far as the eye can see. It’s relatively unspoilt, and of course 
  there’s Hadrian’s Wall dominating the skyline.
  They’ll be approached as they travel by Jonathan Salter and his 
  men, he’s a knight attached to a Broch (a kind of small cylindrical 
  keep) built around the Iron Age.
  He’ll be curious why the characters are in Scotland, but he’s a 
  friend of their friend, so if they namedrop he’ll be less cautious. 
  The idea here is to give the characters a bit of a social interaction 
  scene, but not stymie their advance in the story. You want them to 
  get to Castle Goil, so the moment that Jonathan finds out they’re 
  off to de Bruce’s minor stronghold next to Loch Goil he’ll be more 
  than happy to help. He’s rather fond of Anna de Bruce; one of 
  the warrior-daughters of the de Bruce’s who serves as the head 
  warrior of the castle and looks after the Laird, Connor de Bruce.
  Jonathan is a friendly enough man, not really worth detailing as 
  a full NPC due to his fate later on in the story. If anything make 
  him a minor NPC or even just an Extra. He’s even friendlier if the 
  characters are in the company of Edward as an NPC for the first 
  adventure – they’re old friends.
  If you feel things are slowing down too much, once again, the 
  Lowlands of Scotland do have their own dangers. There are a few 
  minor raiding clans who’re railing against Aieleen de Bruce’s rule, 
  and of course the Dead are always out there somewhere in the 
  rough terrain.
  Jonathan will take them via a safe route though and eventually 
  they’ll show up on the shores of Loch Goil.
  
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  SCENE 4: LAIR OF THE GOIL LAIRD
  The Loch lies to their west as they approach the hill where the 
  castle resides; the castle is on the eastern approach, just atop the 
  hill with a commanding view of the loch itself. Jonathan will 
  escort them to the top of the hill, past the first set of guard towers 
  made of wood which have been erected to watch for the Dead 
  and raiders.
  They’ll reach a second set of towers, and a few outer buildings 
  along the flat of the hill. With the castle rising magnificently 
  behind them – here they’ll encounter the castles’ first and 
  foremost guardian, the warrior-woman Anna de Bruce.
  Anna is a ginger-haired woman, strong and muscular from days 
  of hard work, but not too tall. She’s commanding, but friendly 
  with it. If they’re in the company of Edward she’ll be immediately 
  more open than she would be without the man, due to their 
  connection at childhood. If they’re just with Jonathan, she’ll be 
  open, but a bit more guarded.
  Regardless, as long as they don’t insult anyone and they appear to 
  be decent folk, Anna will drop her guard enough to let them into 
  the castle and take them to rooms.
  It’s here that she’ll talk to Edward on his own if he’s with them. 
  If not, switch out Edward for Jonathan and prepare to let the 
  characters have a few hours of downtime. They can explore parts 
  of the castle in the guest wing, interact with the staff and guards 
  there, who’re stand-offish unless they’re in the company of Anna 
  or Jonathan, or the characters are exceptionally charming people.
  Anna will seek them out over time and talk to each one on their 
  own if she can. She’s curious about tales of England, and really 
  interested in why they’re in Scotland. They obviously didn’t just 
  come here by chance.
  She’ll pick out a healer type, or anyone who seems to have 
  knowledge of medicine first – she might even confined in 
  someone regarding the laird being sick.
  Her motivation here is to learn as much as she can, to determine 
  if the characters are friend or foe. Over a few hours she might also 
  
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  strike up a minor friendship with one or two of them, especially 
  if they come across as genuine.
  SCENE 5: THE STORM AFTER THE CALM
  At some point in the castle’s downtime, the laird is going to suffer 
  the transformation from man to monster. He’s going to become 
  something terrible, dangerous, and deadly towards everyone in 
  the castle. The scene is heralded by a great commotion in the 
  outer courtyard, and everyone rushing to investigate what’s going 
  on. Women scream, children scream, grown men scream out in 
  terror – something monstrous has happened to their laird!
  He no longer resembles the elderly man he was; he’s more like a 
  Tyrant, or some abomination. His skin near translucent, his flesh 
  caked in blood, sores, pus, and oozing bile. Strange marks cover 
  him, and his hair whips like snakes.
  The scene from the outer courtyard is terrifying; blood trails lead 
  from the laird’s private castle wing and the mutilated bodies of 
  his servants lie at his feet. He’s butchered them with a shard of 
  glass he’s used as a dagger. Their deaths did not come cleanly; one 
  of them even twitches with blood gurgling over the cut in their 
  ruined throat.
  Before anyone can stop him Jonathan Salter charges toward 
  Connor de Bruce and screams!
  The monster catches him, halts his charge, and transforms – 
  spikes of bone stab Jonathan through his body and then Connor 
  cuts his head off with the glass, sawing at it gleefully.
  The characters are called upon by Anna to help stop the monster 
  their laird’s become, before he murders everyone in the castle.
  The battle should be brutal; this monster is lethal, but also 
  highly vulnerable to firearms, and fire. Anyone using explosives 
  against it will instantly inflict 3 Wounds against it, regardless of 
  its toughness – one of the flaws in the Blood Father’s alchemical 
  concoction. It also can’t use Bennies to Soak damage that’s caused 
  by fire, firearms, or explosions.
  
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   MONSTROUS LAIRD (Wild Card Abomination)
  Attributes: Agility d6, Smarts d6 (A), Spirits d6, Strength d10, 
  Vigor d8
  Skills: Fighting d10, Notice d6
  Pace: 6; Parry: 6; Toughness: 10 (2)
  Equipment: Broken glass (Str+d4).
  Special abilities:
   
  ✴ Claws/Bite: Str+d8.
   
  ✴ Bone Spikes: Bone spikes and plates protrude from the 
  creature’s body. +2 Armor; opponents who become adjacent 
  suffer an automatic Fighting attack from the creature.
   
  ✴ Dead: These creatures have all the Special Abilities of the Dead.
   
  ✴ Fear: The creature’s twisted body and devilish stare cause a 
  Fear test.
   
  ✴ Go for the Throat: When fighting unarmed, Possessed 
  instinctively go for an opponent’s soft spots. With a raise on their 
  Attack roll, they hit the target’s most weakly armored location.
   
  ✴ Hardy: Possessed do not suffer a wound from being Shaken 
  twice.
   
  ✴ Improved Frenzy: Possessed may make two Fighting attacks 
  per round without penalty.
   
  ✴ Weakness (Fire): The monster is highly vulnerable to firearms, 
  and fire. Anyone using explosives against it will instantly inflict 
  3 Wounds against it, regardless of its Toughness – one of the 
  flaws in the Blood Father’s alchemical concoction. It also can’t 
  use Bennies to Soak damage that’s caused by fire, firearms, or 
  explosions.
   
  ✴ Weapons: Possessed can use weapons, and they can often 
  be seen brandishing melee weapons to kill the living before 
  devouring them, most of all if in life they were soldiers or fighter.
  
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  Once the characters have defeated the monster then things will 
  calm down, Anna will be distraught to begin with over both 
  Jonathan and the laird. If Edward’s there he’ll calm her, if not, 
  she might seek out a character to talk to, especially if one appears 
  to be wiser or more learned than the others. Regardless, you can 
  probably now move on to the last scene a few hours later. Anna 
  wants to be left alone until morning, she invites the characters 
  to seek her out at first light and that she’ll send someone to their 
  rooms.
  
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  SCENE 6: ANNA’S REVELATION
  In the morning the characters are summoned, Anna is as good 
  as her word, calmer now and collected. She’s a clever woman and 
  quite capable. She’s slowly put two and two together as she’s been 
  brooding on this most of the night.
  She will explain to the characters that her adoptive father, the 
  laird, had been sick for a few weeks prior to their visit. They 
  called for a healer, and a man called Kevin McDairmid answered 
  the call – he offered to help, and he’s a man the clans have trusted 
  for years. Kevin had been treating Connor for several days before 
  the characters turned up, and the laird got sicker and sicker when 
  the man left. The people assumed that he’d either become Tainted 
  or he’d caught some sickness that would be the death of him.
  They made him comfortable, put him in his private wing, and 
  left some servants to keep an eye on him. They hoped he’d pass in 
  his sleep, or make a recovery. Of course many of them prayed to 
  Almighty God.
  She’s at a loss now.
  Clever characters will be able to link the Barrow Woman to the 
  Monster Laird; they will be able to prove it given some time.
  Anna beats them to the punch and asks anyone of a scientific or 
  alchemical knowledge if they can search the laird’s quarters. Any 
  clues will help her.
  If they agree then she’ll take them to the laird’s rooms.
  A thorough search will reveal a few clues.
   
  ✴ A gobbet of black bile which is consistent with the blood-like 
  goo left by the Barrow Woman.
   
  ✴ A few broken vials thrown in the fire, these contain traces of 
  alchemy used in the Blood Father’s brutal alchemy.
   
  ✴ The site of the servant’s murders, covered in blood, but there’s 
  less blood than there should be? Did the laird devour it?
   
  ✴ A blade similar to the one found in the barrow, this was used 
  to secretly bleed the laird when Kevin was alone with the man.
  
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  ✴ A small pouch of poisonous herbs, again, part of the alchemists’ 
  concoction used to trigger the monstrous transformation.
  The clues all point to Kevin as the culprit, and Anna is furious 
  at this, the man walked out of their lives not long ago bound for 
  Ireland. She isn’t sure if he left, but she offers the characters any 
  kind of reward she can think of to find and bring him to justice.
  If the characters do nothing, then Kevin leaves Scotland non-the-
  wiser that he’s been found out, moves to Ireland for the next stage.
  This concludes the adventure for now. There are plenty of side 
  things to occupy the heroes in Scotland; they might even be 
  summoned to speak with Aileen if she gets wind of the whole 
  debacle.
  You can end the adventure here, or you can spin it on for a while 
  and have the characters search for Kevin near a small village by 
  Loch Goil. If they catch up with him it’s up to you how that whole 
  thing plays out, Anna wants him punished. He’ll try and escape 
  to Ireland for the next stage of the plan if not.
  IMPORTANT NPCS OF WAYLAND’S SECRET II
   ANNA DE BRUCE
  This rough and tumble, no nonsense, ginger-haired warrior-
  woman is pretty central to the whole Castle Goil story. She 
  dresses in simple leather defensive garments, as light as she can 
  get away with, but she’s strong enough from her years in Scotland 
  competing in various martial tournaments amongst her male 
  peers, that she can wield a claymore one handed for a short while 
  without getting tired.
  Her preferred weapon is a Scottish cutlass, and she often carries 
  at least a pair of throwing knives. She also gets riled if people 
  comment on her height, just over five foot tall, she’s not as tall as 
  some of her male or female peers.
  She’s tougher though, a lot tougher.
  
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  Anna de Bruce (Wild Card)
  Attributes: Agility d6, Smarts d6, Spirits d6, Strength d8, 
  Vigor d8
  Skills: Fighting d10, Intimidation d6, Notice d6, Riding d4, 
  Shooting d6, Stealth d4, Throwing d8
  Charisma: -; Pace: 6; Parry: 7; Toughness: 7 (1)
  Hindrances: Code of Honour, Loyal
  Edges: Brave, Quick, Quick Draw
  Gear: Leather corselet (Armor +1 to torso), cutlass (Str+d8), 3 
  throwing daggers (3/6/12; Str+d4).
  Bonus: Baconian Clockwork Bombs
  T
  he bomb used by Friar Edward is one of the wonders produced by 
  his order. Here are their statistics for Ultima Forsan, if you want to 
  introduce them in your games.
  NAME
  RANGE
  DAMAGE
  ROF
  COST
  WEIGHT
  Baconian 
  Pistol
  05/10/20 2d6+1
  1
  500
  3
  Notes: SBT, Heavy Weapon. Before throwing, can be set to 
  explode after 1, 2 or 3 rounds. See also the standard Savage 
  Worlds rules for Grenades.
  
  Hindrances
  Edges
  V
  Charisma
  Pace
  Parry
  Toughness
  XXV
  Seasoned
  Veteran
  Heroic
  Legendary
  XLV
  LXV
  XC
  X
  XXX
  L
  LXX
  C
  XV
  XXXV
  LV
  LXXV
  CX
  Name
  Race
  Wild Arcane 
  Vigor
  Strength
  Climbing
  Spirit
  Intimidation
  Persuasion
  Agility
  Boating
  Fighting
  Lockpicking
  Riding
  Shooting
  Stealth
  Swimming
  Throwing
  Smarts
  Gambling
  Healing
  Investigation
  Knowl.
  Knowl.
  Knowl.
  Notice
  Repair
  Streetwise
  Survival
  Taunt
  Tracking
  Background
  Languages
  Permanent Injuries
  Gear
  Fatigue
  -I
  -I
  -II
  -II
  -III
  INC
  Wounds
  Armor
  Weapon
  Power
  Range Damage
  Cost
  Wt.
  Range
  Notes
  Damage/Effect
  Head
  Arms
  Torso
  Legs
  Weight limit
  Encumbrance Penalty
  Total Weight                         Florins
  
SOURCE: textdata/thevault/Savage Worlds System (SWADE) [multi]/Ultima Forsan/Savage Worlds - Ultima Forsan - Waylands Secret! - Part 2 - Forbidden Alchemy.pdf