I think Mathilde is likely to have the most impact by being sneaky on a battlefield or by operating alone. She can't function like Dwarf Rangers and Dwarf Rangers can't function like her.
Her ability to cause terror would actually allow her to change the course of smaller skirmishes inside a larger battle, along with her own martial prowess. She can also use the confusion of combat to eliminate leaders with her pistol.
She can also go around scouting, sabotaging or assassinating alone.
What do you mean bring our skills up to par the advantage from our spells in terms of any shadow war is so huge it blows almost any Dwarf ranger out of the water. Sure we can always improve but we're certainly useful now.
You'll notice I specified "stealth skills" not how good she is at burst ability to remain unnoticed, and relying upon spells over the distance one needs to cover when moving around in Dwarf Holds is an inevitable route to a miscast.
So learning the stealth skill, and whatever else the Dwarf rangers use to outwit skaven in tunnel wars is an entirely sensible course of action for Mathilde imo. It is also the reasoning that made us learn to swing a sword, and shoot a pistol instead of all the magic.
To be fair, Dwarf Rangers are good, but they're probably the worst at fieldcraft out of all of the races.
They're good enough that they can get their job done and occasionally get one over their opposite numbers, but aren't typically noted for being exceptional on the big scheme of things.
They know tunnels and mountains. They know how sound and light will carry and how they won't. They know how to spot a surface that will let you run fast and silent, or make noise or break your ankle. They know what constitutes a workable hiding place in face of skaven and goblins. They know how their opposite numbers like to hide and the signs they leave and how to read a track on stone.
Skaven gun teams are tunnel artillery. Warlock engineers can serve as rocket batteries. Also, battle wizards also serve a similar role, and grey seers are very good at their jobs.
The fundamental issue isn't Mathilde lacking the ability to be useful, but the Dwarfs being a people where vital institutional knowledge is lost because someone swears the slayer oath after a single mistake results in the loss of life, and thus take quality control with a seriousness that comes across as absurd to humans. For the jobs assigned to the other human mercenaries, and adventurers they'll work around their issues with quality control by using them in manners that allow them to accommodate for the inevitable mistakes, but my understanding of the "shadow war", or at least how the Dwarfs play it is intrinsically a team game.
Because you don't send individual scouts as that risks them being picked off by Skaven snipers, or whatever else lives within a fallen dwarf hold, and the numbers involved in tunnel warfare make a group infiltration far more likely to reach anything of value. So the Dwarf rangers would naturally want to insure Mathilde meet* the level of dwarven standards, and this isn't unreasonable as most of them have been doing this for decades, or even over a century for the best of them.
*Although one needs to simply look at how relieved that Dwarf was when he learned that a Dwarf set up the niter factory to realize that the only way to truly meet their standards is to strictly follow a process that involves apprentices spending an extra decade, or two as apprentices simply to insure quality.
[X] Other (write in)
-[X] Cauterize - Aqshy, closes wounds and stops bleeding, preventing death without healing wounds. -1 College Favour
-[X] Healing of Hysh - Hysh, instantly heals a small amount of wounds. -2 College Favours.
-[X] Ill-bane - Hysh, cures poison and weakens disease. -3 College Favours.
[X] Regrowth - Ghyran, instantly restores someone to full health from any state up to and including 'recently dead'. -9 College Favours
[X] Nothing further was commissioned.
It's not a formal rank so much as it's a designation that you have the complete trust of your College of Magic, and can be trusted to lead other Magisters if need be.
A Magister is a wizard who's fully trained and recognized as one who has the experience to carry the College's honor with them, a Magister Lord is a paragon of your College.
The real upside is that Magister Lords no longer need to tithe their income.
It's not a formal rank so much as it's a designation that you have the complete trust of your College of Magic, and can be trusted to lead other Magisters if need be.
A Magister is a wizard who's fully trained and recognized as one who has the experience to carry the College's honor with them, a Magister Lord is a paragon of your College.
The real upside is that Magister Lords no longer need to tithe their income.
Becoming a Magister Lord means that you've--through discipline and study--managed to become a Wizard capable of manipulating the shape of entire campaigns, rather than the incredibly intense training that Battle Wizards go through, which leaves them as more-or-less just living artillery pieces of their Wind.
A messenger dwarfs leaves a workshop office post report. An ancient dwarf collapses bonelessly into a well-worn chair. He takes a few seconds to mull over the new the up and coming manling Dame Weber. Exploding onto the scene with a heady mixture of ferocity and desperation unique to short lived races. Many dwarf now knew of her, but only as one who helped them cross out grudges from the book. To be fair perhaps in time she would become more, but as of now it was a purely business relationship. She made sense, working out of self interest and fulfilling duties that manlings SHOULD have already filled long ago. No mad corrupt dwarf hold would be left alone for centuries to wreak havoc in the empire's back yard. This news however is entirely different, this news hit home to the old dwarf in a much larger way.
Old hands crack open a dwarven bullet resting on his desk. Calloused experienced fingers pinch gunpowder and brings it closer for examination. Most dwarves know offhand what niter is and what it is used for, the making of gunpowder, yet all instinctively know what it represents. Hope. Hope that by the works of their brow they can reclaim the glory of ages past. Hope that one day they will wipe out every major grudge from the book. A faint hope that their future might eclipse their past. Yet few know of tragedy that niter represents to the engineering clans. Before the great strife collecting niter was mere busy work given to younglings. Collecting niter from the guano must be done on the spot to make transportation economically viable, and it is important for the niter be pure, so those with proper knowledge are required to be on hand. It became tradition to send fresh apprentices to do it, eventually turning to a hazing right of passage ritual all engineers had to go through. After all, dwarven engineers no matter how smart, no matter how wise, no matter how old was once waist deep in bat shit.
After the fall of Sylvania what was once mindless work became a bottle neck in the ladder of engineering guilds. Family legend from all true engineering clans tell that the mountain trails from Zhufbar to the caves of Silvainya are drenched with the blood of the young and foolhardy. In recent times, by dwarf standards at least, as the holds continue to struggle, the tradition of collecting niter has become something more. It is a pilgrimage for zealous young dwarves to make a difference and do their part to uphold dwarfdom. A pilgrimage that small celebrations have even formed around grim worker dwarves eager to show their appreciation and to grasp any excuse for merriment. As the years and the situation continues to deteriorate apprentices began to go to ever deeper and more remote caves, desperate to get as much niter as possible. Each crystal of niter a packet of gunpowder. Each packet of gunpowder a bullet. Each bullet another day that their world turns. The toll this tradition has reaped upon the dwarves in the grand scheme of things is of course trivial, as there is always dwarves willing to fill the shoes of the fallen. However it is by no means trivial to the engineering clans of old. The cheerful hearts of too many families ventured to Silvaniya and never returned.
A loud crash and an old argument stirring him from his well tred musings he pulls out and opens a locket of better times. Grit smirches a trail as he caresses the brilliant smile of the better brother, taken before his time. Many times had he attempted argued to break from tradition, one of the most epic and futile tasks a dwarf can take. Many grudges had he created as he screamed himself horse to an endless procession of uncaring kings. The morale of the masses always outweighing the anguish of a privileged few. Shaking hands opens the parchment drawer only to pause as he searches for the proper words.
Dame Mathilde Weber, I find that great deeds done in ignorance are no less noble. I thank you from the bottom of my heart, nay the bottom of my mug. Yet thanks are oft fleeting and I wish to grant something more substantial.
Till my dying breath. Till the last hold crumbles. Till chaos swallows the sun. I bind my clan to you. I name you Dwarf-friend.
Till we meet, REDACTED
AN: First order of business this is the first installment of my brand of omakes Moremakes! I hereby call dibs on the obvious Karak Eight Peaks and puppy John Wick expy. Secondly this is the first narrative thing I have written in ever actually. Pretty please PM me critiques or opinions on my writing style. Thirdly Boney Mate I left It redacted on the off chance this drivel becomes cannon you can chose what Engineering clan we get involved with. A BIG DEAL or piddly bunch of Podunk hasbeens.
You commissioned a magical healing item: what spell is this based upon?
[X] Regrowth - Ghyran, instantly restores someone to full health from any state up to and including 'recently dead'. -9 College Favours
How will you present yourself to Belegar Ironhammer?
[X] As a representative of the Grey Order, here to lend a hand where it can be of most use.
[X] As a wanderer, not entirely sure what you seek.
You had expected some sort of enchanted jewellery; failing that, you supposed some sort of staff or rod. But when you visited the spiralling brick fortress of the Jade College, the Enchanter who had laboured over your commission had presented you with a single stylized seed carved from jade and inlaid with golden filigree.
"Hold out your non-casting hand," she said, and with trepidation you did, and she placed the seed upon your palm. Roots of unworked jade sprouted from the seed and plunged into the skin of your palm, and you flinched violently before you realize you felt no pain from the roots burying themselves in your flesh. "This power cannot be allowed to fall into any other hands," she said gravely as the seed was drawn below the skin, your flesh instantly scabbing over with bark and then the bark falling away to reveal unmarked flesh. She passed you a sheet of paper with a list of trigger mnemonics and their purpose. "It will trigger automatically should you be slain, or can be triggered with a mnemonic. A second mnemonic will use it to heal anyone you hold your palm to. It can hold four activations of power; to recharge, allow it to sprout in soil for three to eight hours per activation, depending on the richness of the soil - I recommend sleeping outdoors for this purpose. Alternately, when time is of the essence, hold your palm to an incapacitated or bound enemy and allow the roots to feed upon them. This will recharge a single activation. In a pinch, corpses can be used, albeit at a tenth of the effectiveness."
"Morbid," you commented distractedly as you committed the mnemonics to memory.
She nodded. "Death gives forth life."
She spent some time going over the technical details of how it worked, and you're glad to hear that it lies dormant and magically inactive when not triggered, and thus would not interfere with your own spellcasting. You thanked her sincerely; you had mustered every favour you had earned during your Journeywomanship and your graduation and expended them for this one artefact, but it still represented a great deal of invested time and effort on her part. She simply nodded once more, and wished you luck on your travels.
---
Those that would join the Throng of Belegar Ironhammer gather in the Dwarf Quarter of Grenzstadt, the fortress-town which protects the Empire side of the Black Fire Pass through the Black Mountains. Your rank gains you entrance to the town and a salute from the guards, and your name gets you a gruff nod of recognition from the guard on the entrance to the Dwarf Quarter. You're given directions to the tavern that has the honour of being the headquarters for the final preparations for the march on Karak Eight Peaks - Skratitrogg, which is translated for you as the Feasting Prospector.
Unlike the small scattered tables most human taverns favour, dwarf taverns favour long rectangular tables with benches. Belegar Ironhammer stands at the head of one of them, brooding over a collection of maps and papers and flanked by other dwarves. Unlike two of the others, his hair has not yet faded to white, and though his beard reaches to his knees its pale brown colour betrays his relative youth. The hammer he took his name from rests on the floor, its handle leaned against the table. According to legend, he swore an oath the day he came of age that he will reclaim Karak Eight Peaks or die in the attempt, and for the past sixty years has been gathering every scrap of support there was to be had. Now at ninety years of age, he is in the prime of his life and ready to finally fulfil his oath, one way or the other.
The dwarf to Belegar's left - the only other in the room with a beard not yet white with age - nudges him, and he turns to you. Though in this refuge he wears only the chain and scale of a dwarf's casual dress instead of the full plate and helmet he'd wear on the warpath, all that is visible of him beneath beard and hair and leather is a thin strip of face between moustache and eyebrows. The gaze that peers out at you beneath this is pale grey and calculating, taking the measure of you in an instant and weighing your potential as an asset or an obstacle to his life's mission of reconquest. "What brings you to this gathered throng?"
"I'm here to offer my services," you reply, and his eyebrows furrow.
"And on whose behalf?" he asks, his eyes boring into you.
"My own," you reply shortly, "as Dame Mathilde Weber, Magister of the Grey Order."
He stares at you a moment longer, then turns to the black-haired dwarf. "Ulthar, what's a Magister?"
The dwarf you presume to be Ulthar gives you a piercing look of his own. "She's a Master Mhornokri."
"Aye?" He looks at you again, respect in his eyes. "Then Clan Angrund welcomes you." He nods to the Longbeard on his right, aptly labelled, with a beard so long it trails the floor. "This is Halken Stonebeard, Eldest of Clan Angrund." And to his left, to the black-haired dwarf. "Ulthar Alriksson, Head Ranger and leader of the Karak Hirn forces." And across the table. "Skaroki Grimbrow, Thane of Karak Izor and leader of their forces."
"Well met," you greet them, receiving nods in return.
"So what brings you to this gathered throng?" he repeats.
You hesitate before answering. "I seek... well, I seek something to seek."
Ulthar grins at that, Halken frowns, and Belegar simply nods. "Strollendreki. Better a reason than most. Come, join the discussion." You approach the table, your scalp brushing against the roof, glad for once to be under-endowed with height. "You're not the first umgi zhufokri to join, there's a pair of Gorzhufokri, those animal wizards, and one of those damn strange Azulzhufokri metal wizards, but they're all Journeymanlings."
---
As you listen, he outlines the forces that have rallied to the Angrund banner. Karak Hirn in the Black Mountains and Karak Izor in the Vaults have both contributed Throngs, and Karak Kadrin has sent a small horde of slayers. On top of that there's a vast band of various dwarven glory-seekers, vagabonds, clanless dwarves and adventurers. In total, some forty thousand dwarves are gathered. That this is spoken of with great pride when it would barely match the meagre armed forces of Stirland speaks volumes of the state of the Dwarven Empire. At the core of it all is Clan Angrund itself: barely a thousand strong, but each armed with runic weapons and clad in rune-struck armour thanks to the contributions of the vaults of Karaz-a-Karak and the Master Runelord of Karak Azul.
On top of that, there are those that have answered the call just as you have. The most prominent of all, and a great surprise to you, is that two knightly orders have wordlessly rebuked the Empire as a whole and the Sigmarites especially by joining the campaign wholesale: the Knights of the Vengeful Sun, dedicated to Myrmidia, and the Knights of Taal's Fury, dedicated, of course, to Taal. Both are among the smallest of knightly orders, numbering just a cohort apiece, but both are extremely notable in that they are entirely mounted on demigryphs rather than horses.
Second of all and almost as surprising is the turnout from your home province: apparently the Elector Countess has started to phase out crossbows in favour of handguns and things have not been going well, as thousands of former troops have rallied to Clan Angrund to seek their fortunes rather than trying their luck with newfangled gunpowder contraptions. Of roughly equal size are the detachment of various hunters, poachers, and woodsmen from western and northern Stirland. A lifetime living next to Sylvania, you're sure, will make the Badlands seem homey by comparison.
The third major category of volunteers are, in a twist of irony, caused by the very breakdown in civil order that prevented the Empire proper from assisting. First, there are Nordlanders who have abandoned their home province in the face of entire villages disappearing overnight to seek their fortunes where the danger is something that can be met with an axe to the face. Many mistrust the Norscan blood running through Nordlander veins, but none can gainsay their ability in combat, and what they lack in armour or tactics they make up for in strength and courage. Second, bizarrely, an equal number of Middenlanders - religious exiles, apparently, who speak darkly of conflict within the Ulrican church. The core of this group are the Winter Wolves of Middenheim, who have struck the 'of Middenheim' from their name, turning their back on their home province as, they say, their home province has turned their back on them. Unusually for a knightly order, most of them fight dismounted, but a core of them are mounted on the giant wolves of the Drakwald. After a rocky start, the Nordlanders and Middenlanders have found common ground - both are disgusted with their respective provincial leadership, so they feel no need to continue the conflict.
Fourth, finally, and as unexpected as any, is the response from the Moot: they've sent the entire force that was present in the Sieges of the Drakenhofs as well as an equal amount of civilians, who boast the ability to produce a feast from damn near anything. If anything, it seems more like a migration than a military contribution.
Belegar gruffly concedes that though the Empire as an institution failed him, the turnout from the lands of man has made the trip worthwhile. All in all, it's a force of near a hundred thousand that gathers. Though only time will tell how many remain when you finally reach Karak Eight Peaks, or how many will survive the assault on it.
He extends to you an offer to sit on his War Council, such as it is. The other members thus far are the three other dwarves that were introduced to you: the Grand Master of one of the demigryph orders to speak for both, the Grand Master of the Winter Wolves to speak on behalf of the combined Nordlander and Middenlander forces, and the Marshal leading the Halflings. The exact position you'll be filling is left unclear - you could be joining merely as a Magister in your own right, or as the most senior Wizard of all those present. It would even be possible to slip into command of the Stirlander forces - you commanded them once, you're sure you could do so again, if you desire.
Do you wish to sit on the War Council, and if so, as what?
[ ] Accept as leader of the Stirlander forces (commanding 5,000 crossbowmen and 5,000 huntsmen).
[ ] Accept as the most senior Wizard present (commanding two Amber Journeymen and one Gold Journeyman).
[ ] Accept simply as yourself.
[ ] Decline.
There is time before the assembled horde sets off; how do you wish to spend this time? The three with the most votes from the below two categories will be chosen.
Spending time with and getting to know:
[ ] Ulthar Alriksson, Head Ranger
[ ] Skaroki Grimbrow, Thane
[ ] The Amber Wizard journeymen.
[ ] The Gold Wizard journeyman.
[ ] The Stirlander forces
[ ] The Halfling forces
[ ] The Demigryph Knights
[ ] The Winter Wolves
Other Pursuits:
[ ] Spend time with your wolf pup, trying to develop a famliar bond.
[ ] Deliver last-minute messages for Belegar, trying to scrape together any remaining support to be had before leaving.
- [ ] To Elector Counts.
- [ ] To mercenaries.
- [ ] To the Colleges of Magic.
- [ ] To Knightly Orders.
- [ ] To Dwarfholds of the Grey and Black Mountains.
---
Clan Angrund
King Belegar Ironhammer
Halken Stonebeard, Eldest of Clan Angrund
200 Longbeards
800 Runed Warriors
Glory-Seekers and Combined Contributions from Other Holds
10,000 Warriors
6,000 Miners
2,000 Quarrelers
2,000 Rangers
Human and Halfling Adventurers
Magister of the Grey Order
2 Journeymen of the Amber Order
1 Journeyman of the Gold Order
Knights of Taal's Fury - 250 Demigryph-mounted Knights, 500 footmen.
Knights of the Vengeful Sun - 250 Demigryph-mounted Knights, 500 footmen.
Winter Wolves - 250 Wolf Riders, 2000 dismounted knights.
10,000 Nordlanders
8,000 Ulricans
5,000 Stirland Crossbowmen
5,000 Stirland Huntsmen
5,000 Halfling Fieldwardens
5,000 Halfling camp followers
10,000 miscellaneous mercenaries, adventurers, and vagabonds.
- The Dwarfhold rolls for contributing to the campaign were terrible, but then the Empire rolls more than made up for it.
[X] Accept as leader of the Stirlander forces (commanding 5,000 crossbowmen and 5,000 huntsmen).
[X] The Gold Wizard journeyman.
[X] The Amber Wizard journeymen.
[X] The Stirlander forces
[X] Spend time with your wolf pup, trying to develop a famliar bond.
Score! Some fodders and bolts between gibbly and Mathilde is always appreciated. Also some time with GOLD wizard and pup.
[X] Accept as the most senior Wizard present (commanding two Amber Journeymen and one Gold Journeyman).
[X] Skaroki Grimbrow, Thane
[X] The Amber Wizard journeymen.
[X] The Gold Wizard journeyman.
[X] Spend time with your wolf pup, trying to develop a famliar bond
[X] Accept as the most senior Wizard present (commanding two Amber Journeymen and one Gold Journeyman).
[X] Skaroki Grimbrow, Thane
[X] The Amber Wizard journeymen.
[X] The Gold Wizard journeyman.
[X] Spend time with your wolf pup, trying to develop a famliar bond.
With how many wizards have been getting croaked in battle outside our sight, we really should be there to keep an eye on them (that it gets us away from the bloody Sigmarites is a bonus). Besides that, bonding with out potential familiar is also important, and expanding our network of Dwarven contacts is a good investment for the future.
