Where Goeth The Winds: A Warhammer Fantasy Wizard Advisor Quest

[Miriam]

Where Goeth The Winds​

You are a Wizard of the Empire, a Journeywoman of one of the Eight Colleges of Magic tasked with protecting the Empire from its many, many enemies without, and almost as often its enemies within. Possessed with wondrous arcane power, Imperial wizards nonetheless have a precarious existence. Hated by many, feared by more, respected by few and beloved by none save maybe yourselves, the Wizards are legally considered under a kind of suspended death sentence. As long as they serve the Empire, its Emperor, and their Colleges in that order, they are allowed to live. If they refuse, or worse, betray the Empire, their lives are forfeit. The Articles of Magic can be stretched and bent, like a tree in the wind, but even Apprentices know that to break them is certain death.

What College are you a member of?

[] The Amber Order, wielders of Ghur, the Brown Wind. Wielders of this wind are skilled warriors, hunters, and even shape-shifters, lords of the wild. However, they can be feral, solitary, and uncivilized.

[] The Light Order, wielders of Hysh, the White Wind. Wielders of this wind can be enlightened healers, exorcists, sages, and even musicians. However, they can be purist, self-righteous, and overly curious.

[] The Celestial Order, wielders of Azyr, the Blue Wind. Wielders of this wind are astromancers, fortune-tellers, and battle wizards wielding lightning and star. However, they can be flighty, evasive, and literally have their head in the skies.

[] The Gold Order, wielders of Chamon, the Yellow Wind. Wielders of this wind are logical alchemists, blacksmiths, masters of metallurgy and sorceries of steel. However, they can be callous, unemotional, and greedy.

[] The Bright Order, wielders of Aqshy, the Red Wind. Wielders of this wind are powerful and passionate pyromancers, greatest of the battle wizards of the Empire. Some have even learned how to manipulate passion. However, they can be wrathful, blood-thirsty, and erratic.

[] The Grey Order, wielders of Ulgu, the Grey Wind. Wielders of this wind are master assassins and spies, being subtle, tricky, and even invisible. However, they can be deceptive, treacherous, and suspicious.



Soon after your graduation from Apprentice to Journeywoman, you were unexpectedly assigned to the council of an Elector Count, a rare honor. To which province were you assigned?

[] The Grand County of Averland, hailed for its clear skies, generous people, and fertile land… as well as the Mad Count and the dangers of the Blackfire Pass.

[] The Grand Barony of Hochland, the smallest province, full of dense forests, hardy hunters, and its many shrines to the gods… as well as the Beastman-infested Drakwald Forest and the desolate dangers of the Middle Mountains.

[] The Grand Duchy of Talabecland, home of much of the Great Forest and the rivers of the Empire, peopled by self-reliant, humble, and quiet folk… as well as many Greenskin tribes and Beastmen Warherds.

[] The Grand Duchy of Middenland, a grim and wild land full of tradition, faith, and strength.. as well as the Red Tusk Orcs and roaming creatures of Chaos.

[] The Grand Principality of Ostland, a forested land of creeping mists and shadows, peopled by cool-headed and frugal folk.. As well as a multitude of Chaos warriors, Goblins, and perhaps worst of all, Kislevites.



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Notes:

Hello everyone, I'm back at it again with a Warhammer Quest! This time it's a Warhammer Wizard Advisor Quest, in which we play as a wizard acting as the advisor to an Elector Count of the Empire, semi-independent rulers of an Imperial Province. These first votes will establish the origin and duties of our wizard. We will be using the Crusader Kings system of Diplomacy, Martial, Stewardship, Intrigue, and Learning.

I've been inspired by excellent Quests such as Boney's Divided Loyalties, Maugan Ra's Of Wizards and Winter, and Oksbad's The Shyish Student. As such, there are combinations of votes which I will advise against simply because they've already been done by those Questers. I will not veto them, just note that they have already been done if it seems like they're leading in the votes. There should be two or three character generation posts.

Additionally, for College of Magic and assigned province, I have left out a few choices, simply because I don't really want to play them. Both the Colleges and the provinces will show up later in the Quest, but will not be our initial area of interest. Our player character will also be a woman no matter what, because I feel uncomfortable playing a man. I hope that's okay with everybody! Also, this first vote will be 24 hours long.

 

[Miriam]

Character Sheet

Name: Alcina
Date of Birth: 2477
Official Titles: Journeywoman of the Celestial Order, Court Wizard of Averland
Other Titles: None (yet)
Faith: Myrmidia
Armament: Celestial Journeywoman Staff, Celestial Journeywoman Robes

Magic Items: None (yet)

Diplomacy: 10 + 0 = 10 (average diplomacy)
Martial: 10 - 2 = 8 (cloistered wizard)
Stewardship: 10 + 0 = 10 (average stewardship)
Intrigue: 10 + 0 = (average intrigue)
Piety: 10 + 0 = (average piety)
Learning: 10 +3 = 13 (Journeywoman Wizard)

Traits:

Celestial Wizard:
Court Wizard of Averland:


Arcane Marks: None (yet)

Skills: None (yet)

Diplomacy Skill Tree:

Martial Skill Tree:

Stewardship Skill Tree:

Intrigue Skill Tree:

Piety Skill Tree:

Learning Skill Tree:

Magic Skill Tree:

Spells:

Danger Sense
Lightning Bolt
Mystic Mirror

Languages: Reikspeil, Lingua Praestantia

Home:

Influence:

Deeds and Achievements:

 

[Miriam]

When you first received the summons from Count Marius Leitdorf of Averland, you were surprised, and a little baffled. Why would the ruler of such a large and prosperous county choose a Journeywoman, little more than a freshly graduated Apprentice, as one of his councilors? You asked around the Celestial College, and, typical to those attuned to those who wield Azyr, the Magisters you asked tended to know what you were asking before you opened your mouth. Some avoided you and gave you a look of pity. Others gave you a smirk and an even wider berth. And a few vaguely alluded to the reputed madness of Count Leitdorf, carefully avoiding any particulars. Even the apprentices you knew were from Averland couldn't, or wouldn't tell you anything. "Bloody Celestials", you muttered more than once, wearing your Celestial blue robe, glaring at the backs of Celestial wizards, situated in the Celestial College. It seems those with the skills to know your future refused to share it. So be it, you'd find it out the normal way.

Finally, you took another look at your letter, of which you had only read the portion in which you were requested as a Councilor. The next half of the letter detailed your exact position on the Count's council, which was:

[] Envoy (Diplomacy Focus)
[] Marshal (Martial Focus)
[] Steward (Stewardship Focus)
[] Spymaster (Intrigue Focus)
[] Court Wizard (Learning Focus)

Letting the matter of your assignment settle in your mind, you continued to read the letter. The Count praised your abilities, and mentioned that he was recruiting an entirely new council, after the "failures" of the last. He does not explain what happened to the last council. The next passage sternly informs you that you should disclose any complications, with the word "complications" underlined thrice, before entering his service. You mentally set that aside for later; you're entitled to have your own secrets, after all.

Count Leitdorf concludes by noting that he expects you in Averheim by the new year, and that unless "the Everchosen of Chaos and an Orcish Waaagh! assault you on the road", any delay in your arrival will be treated as insubordination. You're flattered he thinks of your skills highly enough to think that only the end of the world would delay you, but given his insistence, you make a note to head for the province as soon as possible.

As you make the long journey to Averheim, you consider how you got here, and where you came from. Prior to becoming an Apprentice, you were:

[] A Peasant: one of the innumerable peasant families across the Empire, your family was the metaphorical salt of the earth. Poor, but not entirely destitute.
[] A Burgher: Your family were merchants, part of the middle class of the Empire, derided as greedy graspers and nobles, and puffed up as hard-working by yourselves.
[] A Noble: Your family were minor nobles, not an Elector's get, but perhaps a baronial or land-owning knightly family. Your relatives are posh, wealthy, and greatly used to interfering.
[] A Camp Follower: Your family were poorer than poor, part of the great unwashed mass of humanity that follow soldiers around, providing needed services before and after the soldiers do their bloody work.

Prior to your first display of magical power at a young age, your family had been living in:

[] Averland
[] Hochland
[] Talabecland
[] Middenland
[] Ostland
[] One of the squabbling cities of Tilea, outside the Empire.
[] One of the anarchic territories of the border the Border Princes, outside Imperial control

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Notes:

Sorry about the short narrative, since we're still in character gen, I figured a bit of flavor would offset the mechanical voting. Next update will finish the voting, and will finally start the Quest proper!

The social class and home province choices are largely for flavor, but may affect the nature of some missions and tasks later on. For example, a noble Celestial Wizard who's a diplomat could talk to a fellow noble to resolve a mission, while a peasant or former camp follower wizard could talk to soldiers on their own terms to achieve the same. A burgher spymaster might have the option to investigate financial records while a noble spymaster could gain knowledge through loose-lipped fops and damsels (but not Damsels, those are Bretonnian).

Also this time I would appreciate a plan vote, even if it's character gen.

 

[Miriam]

Your journey to Averland was uneventful; a boat down the River Reik was deemed the safest option, given that as a Tilean of merchant breed you were doubly unsuited to a horse, and that a carriage would be impractical, unfeasible, and gauche in that order. Your Master had sent you off on the trip with only your luggage, some provisions, and a surly retired Greatsword bodyguard to accompany you, but gave you several unopened letters, and a quick word of advice. "Don't open the letters until you get there, and try to be a day late, despite what Count Leitdorf commands. No more than a day late however, I can't predict further than that."

You nod and give her a warm hug, which she returns a little awkwardly, her Nordlander manners far more reserved than your Tilean ones. Still, she relaxes into your affectionate embrace, and when it's broken, she claps you on the back. "Guide the Count well, serve the Empire, and get back alive. That's all that can be expected of you." You nod, and as you go to leave with the Greatsword, you wave back to the woman who taught you these last few years. "Goodbye, Master Fredegilde!" You may or may not have cried. You're pretty sure you saw Fredegilde dab at her eye with a blue-clad sleeve.

Smiling at the memory a few days later, you nodded at the Greatsword, the retired soldier still sporting muscles enough to carry your luggage despite his paunch belly. You disembarked at the small dock of a town about a day's sailing away from Averheim. Before the dockmaster can even open his mouth, you shove a handful of silver into his hand, pat it shut, and give him your best winning smile. It's not a very confident one, but so be it. "I'm the new Court Wizard for Count Leitdorf. I need quarters for the night."

The dockmaster makes the Sign of the Comet at your mention of wizardry, a clear indication of his adherence to the Sigmarite faith, but thankfully makes no further fuss than that. "I'll need your name for our records."

[ ] Name

Your identity having been established, he directs you to a small inn, as nameless as most of the rest of the town. In truth, it was something of an extension of Averheim itself, so you supposed neither town nor inn truly needed much of a name. The innkeeper looked at your bright blue robe, and to his credit, showed no discomfort at your clearly wizard-y appearance. "Dockmaster Regimand must have sent you. Here, I'll show you to your room, bring you up a plate."

To the innkeeper's further credit, the meal was decent, a cut of beef steak (no surprise, you're in Averland after all) sage cheese, and a few cucumber slices washed down with a pint or two of ale. Even better, your room wasn't flea-infested, though you supposed that it wasn't due to any special consideration for you and your assignment, but you'd take it. Your night was as restful as one could be so close to your assignment. As you awoke, you gave a short prayer to the god of your choice.

[ ] Morr: God of Death and Dreams, husband of Verena.
[ ] Verena: Goddess of Justice and Learning, wife of Morr.
[ ] Myrmidia: Goddess of Warfare and Strategy, rarely worshipped in the Empire due to the primacy of Ulric and Sigmar. Daughter of Morr and Verena.
[ ] Shallya: Goddess of Mercy and Healing, daughter of Morr and Verena.
[ ] Mathaan: God of Seas and Storms


Finally, you headed out to Averheim on the back of a mule guided by your Greatsword companion. Making a bit of small talk, you learned that Dietrich of Nuln was his name (the Greatsword, not the mule). Dietrich was rather taciturn and not too fond of Tileans. Or Wizards. Or Averlanders. Or much of anything, really. But the thing he was least fond of was boredom, so in his retirement, he had agreed to be "on loan" to the Colleges to guard Journeymen on their Journeyings. "I don't expect you to last the year with that Count", he added helpfully upon concluding his tale. You ignored that, and the rest of the journey took place in silence.

Finding that same silence rather oppressive, you thought back to your own talents, specifically your magic. What could you bring to Count Leitdorf that might keep you alive and employed?


Spells:

Petty Magic (choose 1):

[ ] Danger Sense: You conjure up a sixth sense, enabling you to know when you are watched or followed, and when you are in danger, though it does not indicate what is causing the sense to activate.

[ ] Flight of Amar: You can float for roughly ten seconds. You cannot direct yourself or properly fly, and you are at the mercy of rough winds, but you can stay out of reach of swords or even halberds if needs be.

[ ] Read Out: A magic voice reads out a text out loud for you for up to an hour. Cannot be used to perform summonings or other spells. Magical voice is very boring.

[ ] Magic Alarm: You can play an alarm on any spot, allowing you to be made aware of any living creature passing within a yard of it.

Lesser Magic (choose 1):

[ ] Flight: You can actively fly for about ten seconds.

[ ] Wind Blast: You can knock foes down with a blast of wind that is otherwise undamaging.

[ ] Lightning Bolt: You can summon a single bolt of lightning to smite enemies.

[ ] Luck: You can manipulate the vagaries of fate on an upcoming roll for yourself.

Celestial Magic (choose 1):

[ ] Curse: Similar to Luck, you can affect the vagaries of fate on an upcoming roll for another individual.

[ ] Starshine: Starshine: Light is drawn down from the stars to illuminate the area around you with a soft glow, revealing hidden foes and items.

[ ] Mystic Mirror: Enables you to communicate with a person through mirrors or reflective surfaces such as calm water.




Notes:

Finally, the last character gen vote! Vote is 24 hours, just like the previous ones. This time, you don't need to plan vote but can do so if you wish. I'm not terribly satisfied with the clunky working of the spells section but oh well.

Please stick to Italian-inspired women's names for the character, though Germanic surnames should be fine, depending on the context. As mentioned before, I will be playing a woman, and as you picked a Tilean, Italy is the inspiration.

 

[Miriam]

Winning Option:

Spoiler

Plan Perfect Myrmidian Sorceress
Alcina
-Myrmidia
-Danger Sense
-Lightning Bolt
-Mystic Mirror

For all his distaste for all things not like him, Dietrich of Nuln was at least pragmatic, you decided. He led you and your meager luggage to the docks of Averheim, sure, but didn't take you down the wide open main street, instead taking you down a narrow alleyway adjacent to it. The shops were less impressive, a little dingy, a little shadowy, but it beat potentially having an unruly mob scream at you for clearly being a wizard. An occupational hazard mentioned far too often in the Colleges for your taste.

You passed by the edge of a gorgeously decorated theater you had merely a moment to gawk at/admire before Dietrich urged you on. Hmm, mayhaps you could visit it again later. The alleyway opened up into a less inhabited corner of the main square of the Plenzerplatz, and a squat, nondescript building flanked by towers in the style of your Tilean homeland next greeted you, the symbol of scales and sword indicating that it was a temple of Verena. Your attention was next arrested by a massive, twisting tower of Orc skulls in the middle of the square.

Identifying the Skulls: Rolling Learning: 48+13 (Base Learning)= 60 (Success)

This is the imaginatively named Pillar of Skulls, named as such after the end of Gorbad Ironclaw's Waaagh seven centuries ago. The Orc Warboss had nearly shattered the empire through his will and endless tide of green, finally meeting his death at the hands of the then-Elector Count, who piled up the skulls of Gorbad's last warriors in the square, to forever serve as a reminder of those dark days. The skulls were cleaned regularly, but it was said that that on Geheimnistag, the Day of Mystery, the skulls bled from the eye sockets when the moons were full.

Still, you had a job to catch, so you were only allowed a moment's contemplation, before continuing onto the Averburg, Count Leitdorf's home and your new place of employment. The forbidding fortress reminded you of a patchwork coat that had been mended so many times it was hard to know where the old coat began. In some portions of the castle, there was new stone, gleaming, clean, and unpitted by the scars of time. In other portions, older stone dominated, pockmarked as a leper, worn down by the elements, and clearly in need of maintenance even to your untrained eyes. Still, despite its patchwork appearance, the castle looked strong and foreboding, and you would not relish the chance to be its besieger. At its front entrance stood two guards in Averland livery, their halberds crossed to deny intruders entry. They looked expectant, so you supposed you should say something.

"I am Journeywoman Alcina, of the Celestial Order. I've come to take up the court wizard position."

The guards uncrossed their halberds, opening the gates with their free hands. As you entered, one of the guards muttered to you. "The Count is in a mood today." He did not elaborate, giving you no clue to exactly what mood Count Leitdorf would be in.

You strode into the main hallway, determined to display far more confidence than you feel. On your left, a barracks fit for the Count's personal greatswords dominates the hallway, and on your right, an office full of parchments and other assorted documents. You continued, and as the hallway opened up into the main keep, a great hall fills your (mortal) eyesight.

"Strega?" You wince a little hearing the Tilean term for "witch". The speaker was a tall, wiry man of what you're pretty sure is Imperial stock, though you couldn't place him in a province. His hair was styled in a brutally short military cut, and while he uneasily wore the fine doublet of a nobleman, a stylished tattoo of the wolf of Ulfric snaked its way up his neck, and his knuckles were decorated with the comets of Sigmar.

"Journeywoman Alcina, actually." You correct, a little more curt than you might otherwise be; your parents had told you that strega implied the desire to find kindling for a witch's pyre. Not a polite term at all.

The tattooed man in the doublet grinned crookedly, a single golden tooth glinting in his too-wide smile. "Ah! You are right, of course. Strega was a favorite curse of my last employer, but not something to be said in such learned company. Welcome to the Averburg, Journeywoman. I have the pleasure to be Gerhard Raskopf, envoy of our wonderful new employer, Count Leitdorf." He spread his arms, as if exulting in his good fortune.

"The letter I was sent told me that Count Leitdorf had replaced his entire council." The period at the end of your response almost became a question mark. Almost.

"Aye, and if you're lucky, you might see their corpses bobbing up and down the River Aver, damned fools displeased this particular Elector Count." Raskopf shrugged, then smiled again, pointing to the others in the hall.

"Melisende." A Bretonnian accent reaches your ears, and as you examined the speaker, you blink for a moment. Aren't Bretonnian women supposed to be slender, pale, and fainting a lot? Or was that just the torrid romantic tales the other Celestial Apprentices smuggled into the College after hours? Melisende is the exact opposite of that supposition, her muscled arms, broad shoulders, and tanned, soot-covered skin giving lie to your late-night reading. Well, some of it anyway. Still, she had an aquiline nose of nobility seen across all the Old World, even if it was broken at least once. "Marshal." She offered, in answer to an unasked question. She remained seated at the main table, tinkering with the guts of some weaponry you didn't recognize.

Sitting across from Melisende was a bearded man of early middle age, tapping the table nervously. Like Raskopf, the man wore a doublet, but this man wore it more naturally, as if born to it. He flashed a sickly smile at you, and nodded his head once. "Margave Wenzer von Heine. Steward." He paused for a moment, letting his posh noble Averlander accent sink in. "But I'm sure you already knew that, r-right?"

You didn't. "Yes, I did". Always better to keep up the illusion that you knew everything. The Celestial College had a reputation to uphold, after all.

"Konradin of Vorchdorf." A muffled voice answered from the corner of the hall. It belonged to a Witch Hunter bundled in cloth and leather. The Witch Hunter was clearly past his prime years with what little you could see of his face and body, but the glint in his eyes indicated that age had not slowed down his mind. He creakily stood up to greet you, shuffling a few steps closer and bowing slightly. Hmm.. something was off…

What Is Konradin Hiding?: Rolling: 85+13 (Base Learning) -15 (unfamiliar with Konradin) = 83. vs 49+20 (Konradin's Intrigue)= 69. Alcina wins the contested roll, but doesn't know his exact secret.

Konradin was hiding something, you're sure of it. You weren't sure what yet, but something about his face, shadowed by the bandana of the Witch Hunter, was off. His gait was unstable, less the shuffle of age and more like he was hiding a limp or disfiguration. Even his figure was suspicious. Witch Hunters didn't usually let themselves go in old age, did they? Was it just weight he was hiding under those leathers?

(New Personal Quest Gained: Unmask Konradin of Vorchdorf)

You saw Konradin's eyes widen slightly as yours drew tight with suspicion, and he tipped his hat slightly to you. "A point to you, Wizard."

An awkward silence settled over the table as both of you stared, before Raskopf coughed into his fist. "Not to interrupt, but it seems we're missing a member of our fine council."

Rolling for Piety Advisor…. 24. Where are they? Rolling… 53

Konradin rolled his eyes at the envoy. "Dietmar's down in the south of the province, near Blackfire Pass. He got here early, presented himself to the Count, and gallivanted off soon after. Seems he got it into his empty little head that a village or two hosted Blessed Sigmar before he was Emperor, and he wants to see if there's any relics down there."

You interrupt, trusting that the Spymaster's familiar tone is just that, familiar. "I take it you know each other?"

Konradin snorted. "You could say that. I knew his father and his father's father. His uncle too. Damn fools the three of them, but Dietmar is thrice that. The man would walk right into Sylvania if you told him a vampire was holding onto Sigmar's dinner fork."

You saw the Margave von Heine frown at the elderly Spymaster's tone, his nervousness interrupted by clear distaste for how lightly Konradin was taking Dietmar, before he resumed his anxious habit.

But all of you are likewise interrupted by the front door of the Averburg creaking open again, and before long, you are greeted by a small retinue of Greatswords clad in the finest armor a noble could buy them, shining and resplendent. Parting through them like a wave appeared a man in even more noble finery, crowned by a mane of dishelved and messy blonde hair and an unkempt, unshaven chin. The man's eyes were wide and wild, imbued with a sense of frenetic energy. He pointed at you, his mouth stretched in an expression you're not sure was a grin or a grimace. "You!" This must be Count Marius Leitdorf, the Mad Count.

"Me?" You can't help but point to yourself in response, as if to confirm your identity.

"Did I not command you to appear at the Averburg by yesterday?!?" Oh right, that. The 'appear before the famously erratic Elector Count at a specific time under penalty of insubordination, unless the whole Empire was ending', which it was clearly not. And insubordination to an Elector Count when serving under him was technically a breach in the Articles of Magic, unless his actions threatened the Emperor or Empire itself. Somehow you didn't think Emperor Luitpold would see things your way over an Elector Count's.

You put on your best enigmatic smile. "Celestial College business?"

A moment passes. Then another. Then a third and a fourth. Upon the fifth moment, Count Leitdorf stormed over to you, his expression unreadable and his Runefang still in it's sheath, the other advisors in the room holding their breaths just in case the sword was to be used. He clapped you on the back, and broke out into what was now a clear grin. "Aha! Very good, Journeywoman! You must have foreseen my… displeasure with the old council and kept your nose out of that muck by delaying. What foresight! I knew I made the right choice to ask for a Celestial."

You see the other advisors relax; von Heime sighed in relief, while Konradin and Raskopf both chuckle, their own relief masked in the small laugh. Marshal Melisende, her eyes wide with astonishment, struggles to go back to her disassembly of the weapon she was working on, her eyes flitting back to you and the Count.

Count Leitdorf, for his part, dismissed his Greatswords, and they marched off to their barracks, the steel of their boots striking the stone floor beating a staccato into your ears until they walked out of earshot. His gaze turned to you and the other advisors.

"Now that we've made the introductions, I need you to fulfill your duties. Priest Dietmar is exempt from this while he is on his pilgrimage. Lord Raskopf, visit my nobles and see what they think of me, and later, prepare a report on what neighboring rulers think of Leitdorf authority here."

" Lady Melisende, I require a full and honest accounting of every Sigmar-damned last soldier in Averland, and their armaments and armor."

"Margrave von Heime, sequester yourself in your office and figure out what those damned Halflings owe Averland. Yes, all the way back to Emperor Ludwig the Fat, if you can."

"Konradin, you likewise keep an eye on our neighbors. Wissenland, Stirland, the Moot, the Dwarfs, even spy on the Orcs if you can. All of them are full of twisty secrets." The other advisors make their leave, Raskopf and Melisende turning back to glance at their new liege, while Konradin resolutely shuffled off into the shadows of the keep, presumably to gather his tools for Spymastering.

Finally, when only the servants, yourself, and Count Leitdorf are left, the Count turned to you, uncharacteristically… unsure? Hmm. "Wizard, I have need of you on a few projects. My first council did not have a court wizard in it, so I cannot tell you how serious any of the projects may be."

Wizardly Duties (pick 1)

[ ] "Accompany Lord Raskopf to his visits with the nobility. I hear rumors that some of them have illicit enchanted goods. Find the truth of this." (Begin Noble Enchantment Arc)

[ ] "The Shallayans are hiding something from me. They may be in league with the Moot!... or another unsavory power, I suppose. Go to their temple and investigate them." (Begin Mercy Mission Arc)

[ ] "Some call me mad. Mad! Perhaps I am, but my cousin Kastor seems positively possessed! Find out if the Ruinous Powers have taken his mind and… do as you must if he is." (Begin Mad Baron Arc)



Finding Lodgings (pick 1)

[ ] An unused room in Castle Averburg that you've taken for your own.

[ ] A room at a local inn, comfortable and aware of goings-on in the streets of Averheim.

[ ] In one of the Averburg's towers, you are a wizard after all.

[ ] A townhouse, allowing you a permanent home inside Averheim without being stuck in the castle.

[ ] A small camp in the wilderness a few miles from Averheim; extremely rustic and somewhat uncomfortable, but utterly private.

Personal Actions (Pick 2)

[ ] Get to Know Spymaster Konradin: Surely whoever, or whatever he is, he wouldn't dare show his hand so quickly, right? And if he's all he's cracked up to be, then you've made a friendly acquitance of the most powerful spy in the province.

[ ] Get to Know Envoy Raskopf: Clearly this sketchy diplomat is more than he seems. But who is he, and what does he know? You aim to find out.

[ ] Get to Know Steward von Heime: The skittish Steward of Averland might be the most normal member of your motley council. Maybe you should befriend him to keep your own sanity.

[ ] Practice Astronomy: Among other talents of the Celestial Order is astronomy, or the study of the moons and stars. Why not hone your astronomical skills here in Averland? Astronomy supplies will be bought as part of the action.

[ ] Bet On The Races: By now the locals know that you're a wizard, and many are vaguely aware of your Order's reputation for foresight. A few of the more daring nobles have challenged you to bets on horse races, to test your abilities, with various petty cash and minor favors promised if you win. While you are more martially inclined then the average Celestial Journeywoman, a few bets made in jest can't hurt, can they?

[ ] Eavesdrop On Servants: Let's be honest, servants have never been the most discreet with even the most boring, normal employers. So what kinds of things do they say amongst each other about the Mad Count?