A tale of blood, betrayal, and Marienburgers - A Warhammer Fantasy Quest

Results and Birfday

[1] Well, actually, that kind of is what you spent most of your time doing! You made sure to 'network' as your dad always called it. You made sure as many of your friends were as close to you as possible. You even worked to charm their parents with your amazing abacus skills and friendly personality! You are a young master of diplomacy and will have made many friends within the Empire, as well as outside it.

Despite the objections of your parents that you maybe spent a bit too much time focusing on making as many friends as possible, you ignored them in favour of honing your silver tongue. You quickly learned to apply all your childish charms not just to your friends, but to their parents too!

Most adults are helpless against wide, innocent eyes and incessant questioning. You, of course, have learned to turn this to your advantage. Despite their adultness, you've found your friends' parents to be shockingly easy to manipulate. Kind, precocious words and a wide smile seem to be all it takes to win them over!

You've made sure to note all you learned since your fifth birthday, and now that your tenth is imminent, you feel like you've done a very good job with it. You even know a bunch of elven merchants! They always seem really snooty until you mention Ailan! They seem to respect her a lot, which is silly because she's not that much older than you, but you bite your tongue and endure.

You also have a very clever idea. You start recording all the names and locations of the friends you write to, as well as abbreviated versions of what they tell you. That way, you don't have to go digging through piles of letters when you write them back!

It's really quite the invention, you're quite pleased with yourself!

Gained - Magritta's logbook of friendship

[2] Paid close attention to what your father was doing. Your dad always tells you, that one day you will be the Princess of Nordland. You need to learn more than mathematics, you need to learn how things work! Dad's been teaching you what court sessions look like, and how the city's income works differently to how your super special merchant ledger works! You have become much better equipped to handle life at court, and know the difference between running a merchant house, and a country.

Of course, when you weren't making as many friends as one ten year old could, you made sure to follow attentively at your father's heels. He's so much smarter than any tutor could hope to be, especially given that they don't know anything about running a state!

Court seems to be really boring, and dad spends heaps of time arbitrating between all the merchants and nobles in the Westerlands. And sometimes from Nordland. You aren't sure what to make of them, because they smell funny! They seem to really not like you or your dad, but your incredible charms have made them more amenable, at least to your face.

You've naturally worked hard to make friends amongst their children, and while you'd expected your dad to reprimand you for shirking what he was trying to teach you, instead he has sat you down to explain that in Marienburg, connections are key to ruling.

Of course, after he praises you for your incredible skills in friendship, he drags you off to the Mayor's hall so you can sit in on yet another long, boring meeting on the maintenance of Marienburg.

You'd never realised how much effort dad had to pour into his work to keep the city afloat! So you suppose it is a good thing you learned now, rather than later. After all, Nordland and Marienburg will be yours one day!

You have gained an understanding of the struggles of court life, and have been tutored by your father in turning friends into favours.

[3] Study combat, of course! Dad tended to steer you towards accounting and algebra, but he always made sure to make time for military lessons with Sven. You always liked training with the big, stoic Norscan. He taught you not just how to handle all kinds of training weapons, but also played board games with you lots! You've learned how to use most melee weapons, and even though you don't know it yet, constant games with Sven has taught you basic military tactics.

Sven has always kind of scared you, and despite always enjoying the tabletop games he played with you after training, you often put it off. He didn't seem to mind all that much, as he greatly enjoyed teaching you how to swing a hammer.

Having spent years practicing with it, you're starting to understand why Sigmar likes them so much. They're great for "Showing those wine drunk women over the mountains what real war looks like" in the words of Sven. You're not quite sure what he means, because Mum always tells you that the Brettonians are so backwards and dumb they'd faint at the idea of a woman knowing how to protect herself!

[X] A Griffon egg! When Ranald told you actually didn't believe him, but he brought you into the study during the night, and it really was! Griffon eggs are actually really big up close. You're super excited for it to hatch! In fact, you've already given it a name even though it's not really yours yet! Name your pet griffon.
-[X] Charlemagne

To your inestimable disappointment you didn't get your griffon egg on your birthday, but the morning after. It was dark when you first saw the big egg with Ranald so all you saw was the dark outline of it, and all you felt was the smooth texture and heat coming off it, but when your parents wake you up the day after your celebrations (marred slightly by the lack of griffon egg), you get to see it properly for the first time.

The huge oval egg rests in a sizeable basket, and almost glows. In the morning light, the shell is warm to the touch and incredibly smooth. Your parents watched gleefully as you slowly stroked the egg. You didn't really know what t say or do. Your tutors had told you of the incredible grace of griffons, but even the egg seems to completely fill the room.

"Charlemagne."

You speak the words after a minute of silence. You have named your new friend, and patting the egg one last time, you gentle take it by the handle, and after giving them each a thank you kiss, you carry the egg off to your room. You have just the spot for it!

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It's less than a week before you're brought back into your father's study, but from the serious look on their faces, you don't think they've obtained a second griffon. Your mother picks you up, despite your protests of being more than ten years old. She places you on her lap and tuts, wagging a finger at you.

"My dear, it is time we discuss something of importance." The seriousness of your father's tone worries you, and his normally cheery face is as grim and stony as the statues of Sigmar that adorn your Mother's Chapel.

"Your father and I have agreed, to fully prepare you for what life as ruler of the Empire will be like, you must be sent away. To study."

"Away? What do you mean? I learn plenty here!" You whine plaintively. You don't want to leave the Isle! Except for brief excursions with your parents, this palace is all you've ever known. Your mother rests a hand on your head, stroking you gently. She gives you a warm smile and nods her understanding, while your father remains grim-faced.

"I know you do, but every young Imperial girl needs to travel to learn. You're already smart, but wouldn't you want to learn more of the world?"

Of course, you would! But in your upset mood, you shake your head glumly.

"No, I wanna stay here with my friends!"

Your pouting, petulant behaviour has clearly surprised both of them, and after they exchange a brief look, communicating thoughts in a way you are too young to understand. You look up to your father, to find his face has softened considerably.

"Oh, sweetness. I know this is upsetting for you, but don't worry. I've picked out the perfect place for you to grow into the bright Princess we know you can be."

To be revealed next turn!

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It has been almost a week, and you've been trying to decide what to do with your egg! It's difficult to figure out what to do! You've made sure that it's warm and dry. You get hay from the stables, to make sure it stays nice and warm! You've taken to painting it.

As each day goes by you've been using the large egg as a kind of canvass to practice your painting lessons. You've been taken by the idea of painting griffons, given once Charlemagne hatches you'll have your very own!

You put the finishing touches on the golden peak of what you imagine Charlemagne will look like when they're all grown up, when the egg suddenly jolts. You rear back, paint flicking all over your sundress. Your eyes turn to pinpricks as you stare at the wobbling egg.

After taking a deep breath and realising it isn't going to fall out of the hay-stuffed basket you keep it in, you find yourself staring at it closely. Every couple of seconds it shakes and you can hear what sounds like pecking.

It takes a moment, but you suddenly realise what that means. Charlemagne is hatching!

You practically leap for joy, knocking a paint pot and scattering its contents across the table as you leap from your painting chair. You hover incredibly close to it, ear almost pressed to the thick shell. It is so warm that you can feel it even without pressing your cheek to it You're so excited you are practically shaking when you hear a loud peck.

You step back, mind racing as you try to figure out what to do. After a second you realise that you know nothing about laying eggs! Panicking briefly, you realise that you know someone who knows lots about babies!

Putting down your brush you rush to your mother's room, which is right across the hall from your own. Bursting in you launch into an incoherent babble about your griffon egg. You're so excited you struggle to form a proper sentence and your frustration rises in time with your mother's confusion.

"CHARLEMAGNE IS HATCHING!" You finally manage to force out, gesturing wildly towards your room. Finally understanding the cause of your spastic behaviour, and rises from her chair, her book of dogma set aside for now.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go make sure he hatches well!" You turn on heel and rush back into your room, scooping up your hay basket as the both of you crowd around the egg. It is shaking quite a bit, and you can see fractures running out from a single point. You begin to stuff your makeshift nest with extra hay. To add warmth and adding extra cushioning to the egg as it rocks back and forth.

With each peck, you can see the cracks grow more defined, larger and a single point of the shell starts to break. Your eyes go wide as the griffon's beak pushes through, splitting the egg along the top.

Tossing off the cap of its shell, the griffon's head pokes free. Its eyes are shut, with thick film of what your brain tells you must be egg fluid keeping them that way. After a tense second

The egg rocks forward for a moment, and you take a step closer to make sure that it doesn't topple out of its hay-stuffed home, when suddenly the entire front of the egg cracks, falling forward. The tiny newborn tumbles out, and you are just able to catch it. It is warm and slimy to the touch, but looking down at the tiny thing, you can't help but want to hold it tight.

"Hello Charlemagne!" You cheerfully introduce the newborn to its name, and despite the mostly featherless and furless baby being clearly exhausted from hatching, it looks up at you and trills happily. You think it almost understands what you just said!

You're going to be very close friends with your special little bird, you just know it!

"Oh, sweetness. I know this is upsetting for you, but don't worry. I've picked out the perfect place for you to grow into the bright Princess we know you can be."

The words ring about in your head like one of the Temple bells, and you awkwardly fidget in your mother's lap. Even having grown considerably, your massive former Priestess of a mother dwarfs you. You cling to her robes for protection from this bad news.

"But...I don't wanna go anywhere! Why do I have to go anywhere? I don't wanna leave" You protest loudly, huffing in disbelief at this sudden change in circumstance. After all, the only life you've ever known has been one lived on Rijiker's Isle. Sure you've visited the temple in the great city with your parents, and even visited most of the districts of the city, but you've never really been outside the safety of Marienburg's high walls.

"I know you don't want to leave your home, but traveling abroad is critical to your education! When I was young, I traveled Tilea and Estalia. If I hadn't, I wouldn't know half as much as I do now." Your father explains, and despite how upset you are about all of this, it does make sense. That doesn't mean you have to be happy about it, though. Crossing your arms over your chest, you huff and look down.

As your eyes are downcast, focusing on a patch of hardwood floor, a knock on the desk startles you slightly. At first, you're worried your father has lost his temper and is about to punish you. When nothing further comes, you finally raise your gaze to a sealed letter resting on the table.

Your eyes are drawn to the ornate, flowery writing running along the top. You recognise it at once, because…

[] Your Mother often communicates with the Lector of Marienburg, and even though the fine details of handwriting change from one to another, all Lectors have the same meticulously practiced style. You can't pin down any details but that it is from one of your mother's Lector friends, though. It is addressed to you, and the letter itself is sealed with a wax sigil of the Heldenhammer. It almost feels wrong to break it, but you push through and open the letter.

Princess Magritta.

On behalf of the Cult of Sigmar, I wish you a happy tenth birthday!

I have written to you today to offer you a place amongst the Order of Merciful Sisters of Sigmar. I have been made aware by your mother, who was once a Sister, that you share her passion for behaviour most unladylike.

While I do not doubt some have tried to shun you for your interest in the Warhammer, and in the Word of Sigmar, I shall do neither. It is a rare thing for a woman to be blessed with gifts both spiritual and martial, and I promise to you that should you come to the Great Temple that I will do my best to encourage this gift.

I trust in Sigmar that you will make the right choice, and come to join us in defending His Word.

Sincerely, the Lector of Salzenmund, Ricatus
P.S I have been told to make an allowance for your most sacred warbird, and will endeavour to provide them the best of care as you train with us.

You put the letter down, peering at it incredulously. You know your mum was a Sister for years before meeting your dad, but are you really going to be trained as one? You do love Sigmar, and you love fighting, so you suppose it'd be a good thing to learn.

Slowly, you turn to your mother. She almost radiates approval , and as you look at how happy she is, you find yourself looking back to the letter. With a slightly resigned sigh, you shift on your mother's lap and look up at her. Her good mood is infectious, and it manages to pierce at least part of the dour fog this news has brought you.

"Well, I guess we should pack my stuff? I've never been to Salzenmund. Is it nice?" You ask, the resignation in your voice dampening your mother's mood slightly. Your father just laughs, rising from his seat to give you a reassuring pat on the back.
"Indeed, though it is hardly comparable to Marienburg, I think you'll like it there." You doubt his words, and your furrowed brow and skeptical gaze display that doubt openly. He maintains his cheerful expression, and continues.

"You will! There are plenty of young girls at the convent for you to befriend, and if you ever get homesick, I'm sure you can write us, and mom will be right over."

"Of course! I know how hard being sent to a conclave can be." Your mother wraps her arms around you and lifts you up with her.She cradles you effortlessly as you huff.

You will spend your days before the election in a conclave in Nordland, learning Sigmarite Dogma and training to become a powerful holy warrior.

[] It's both alien and familiar. You immediately recognise an Asurian attempt at impersonating proper imperial grammar, though this is quite the focused attempt. Raising the letter to your eyes, you carefully scan the letterhead.

"To the esteemed Prince of Nordland, Clais van der Maacht"

Underneath the strange scrawl is a red wax seal and after a second, you recognise it! It's the seal of Ailan's family, you'd recognise that albatross anywhere. Your foul mood completely wiped away by an intense and rising curiosity, you break the seal and open the letter. It reads:

To my esteemed friend, I write you today to inform that, after consulting with my wife and siblings, that we indeed shall foster Magritta until she reaches her majority.

While I'm sure you've instructed her greatly on matters of trade, I will endeavour to fill in any gaps in her knowledge, and of course introduce her to the wider Aestrellion family. I assure you that by the time she next sets foot in Marienburg she will return with a white lion pelt draped around her shoulder, and the wisdom of ancient merchants in her mind.

Regarding the griffon, of course accommodating such a majestic creature is no trouble, Ulthuan has a great many such animals in the mountains, Magritta's pet will be perfectly at home during its time at the Aestrellion estate.

One final matter. My daughter has insisted I include a drawing of her last visit with your own.

I hope this letter finds you in good health,
Your friend, Finubar Aestrellion.

You're almost buzzing with excitement as you put the letter down, and it grows as you pick up Ailian's drawing. It's a very beautiful rendition of you saying goodbye at the docks when she had to go home to study. It warms you heart to see just how much effort she put into it!

Despite your earlier misgivings you immediately fold into agreement. How could you refuse an offer to study alongside your best friend? You two are going to have so much fun together! You especially can't wait to introduce her to Charlemagne, he's the most loving bird ever!
You will travel to Ulthuan, to study the merchant trade in Ulthuan. You will be an honoured guest of House Aestrellion until such time as you are returned to Marienburg, learning much about Ulthuan, proper stewardship, and forming bonds with the Aestrellion house.


[] It's from your Uncle Marius! The handwriting gives it away so quickly that you don't even need to see the seal of Altdorf to know it is from him, and you eagerly crack the seal to see what it is that your favourite uncle has sent you!

Hello, my darling Niece, from the city of Altdorf.

Your father and I have long discussed bringing you to the Imperial court in Altdorf for study. Not to impune the quality of education you'll receive in Marienburg, but Altdorf's universities are expansive, and as it is seat of the Imperial Court, you'll learn far more about how to be the powerful Princess I know you one day will be here than at home.

With the Emperor gone to Sigmar, now is an ideal time, as you will be able to see all the scrambling and mess of rulership unobscured by the niceties I'm sure your father is used to. It will be a valuable learning experience!

I've made arrangements for your new pet in the Imperial Stables, and I look forward to seeing you soon.

Much love, Uncle Marius

You put it back down. You don't relish being sent away from home, but you suppose if it's with your uncle, it won't be too bad! Marius is smart like you, plus you can show him your skills with the lute! His poems really need backing music, no matter what he says.

You will spend the years leading up the election in Altdorf with your Uncle, Marius von Holzkrug, learning the ins and outs of Imperial court, and how to manipulate your natural skills at diplomacy to your advantage.

[] The lettering is all wrong! From the way they write Reikspiel it is clear that they are from Kislev, a detail that you confirm when you notice the giant bear seal on the wax. But who from Kislev would write you? Overtaken by curiosity, you crack the seal and open it.

Greetings, young one!

You do not know who I am, so allow me to start my letter with introductions. I am the esteemed Bárynja Hannah Rollstoff, the Merchant Princess of Erengrad. I hear you are a princess yourself, which is no doubt incredibly exciting for a girl your age!

I'm writing to you as your father approached me about bringing you to my great city to further your studies under me. I assure that you are in good hands my dear, as Erengrad is one of the world's few truly great cities (A title we share with your home, Marienburg), and as such your opportunities here will be unrivaled.

Of course, there is much you will need to learn, and I only have so much ink. I look forward to meeting you, Magritta.

Yours, Bárynja Hannah Rolstoff

You are about to put down the letter when notice what almost look like letters, running along the base. They quirk your interest, and sliding off your mother's lap, you hold the letter to the midday light. There are letters!

Vgttixcvh. Eprz lpgb, eprz axvwi. Iwt pchltg xh ndj uxcs iwt ltpiwtg fjxit bxas.

What? You stare at it as your father chuckled. "It's just like Hannah to include a little brainteaser in her letter. Here." Your father hands you a small book, as you try to puzzle the nonsense words out.

"It won't have the answer you're looking for, but if you study it, I'm sure you'll figure out what she was on about." You stare at the book, Van Kleiseendorf's book of Cryptography. Running your hand over the leather tome, you feel that self-same need to prove just as when you'd received your venerable abacus.

You will leave for Erengrad until the election, learning the art of intrigue, deception, and trickery at the feet of a Master. A boon will be granted both to the result, and to anyone who figures out the encoded text.

[] The imperious lettering, and gilded paper, is clearly from one of the Knight houses in Marienburg. You don't really know each order by heart, but from the sheer ostentatiousness of it, and the Double Axe seal, you can make a strong guess.

PRINCESS MAGRITTA

The letter begins, high, flowing gothic letters filling up a full three lines of normal writing.

I write to you on behalf of the High Marshal of the Order of the Albatross.

We have decided to extend to you the offer of joining our ranks as a student. On the insistence of your father, we have made a place for you available at our Chapter House in Marienburg. The Knights of the Mermaid are eager to have you join us.

We have already made an arrangement for you most sacred animal within our stables. Charlemagne will be quartered with our other griffons in the Chapter stables.

I look forward to aiding in your education on the art of true war.

Chapter Master Helmuth Kol, Order of the Mermaid

That's….not quite the offer you expected. While you always enjoyed learning about fighting with Sven, this is something else. You could learn real tactics, and how to wreck all the enemies of the empire that give your father chest pains!

You push your doubts and worries about leaving Rijiker's isle. Clearly, this is something you need to do! With all the pride you can muster, you slide off of your mother's lap and take the letter.

"Let's go pack! I'm gonna be a knight!" You boldly declare, and both your parents laugh at your enthusiasm, and your mother takes you to your room to do just that.

You will join the Order of the Mermaid as a squire, training in the art and tactics of war, until such time as you are recalled to Rijiker's Isle to take up the title of Empress.

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An on time update! I'm as shocked as you all. Choose wisely, this will be one of the most significant choices of Magritta's childhood.