Warhammer Fantasy: Divided Loyalties - an Advisor's Quest

A New War
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Ukari Ironfist watches drifting smoke from his pipe as he thinks about his books. It has been many years since youngsters had sought his books about, but that was slowly changing. Victory at Karak… Vala-Azril-Ungol had ignited several youngsters' passion for the past. Managing all the activity his library was receiving and fielding questions about the ancient glory of Vala-Azril-Ungol and other aspects of the past left him exhausted. It had been years since he remembered feeling this tired. Keeping all the grabby hands away from King Morgrim Blackbeard's battle records was a trial that had rapidly tired him out. But, it was a tired that left him smiling. Youngsters could be difficult to deal with, but looking on as they discovered the stories of the ancestors was a treasure of its own. Sighing, he tipped out his pipe and reached for a stubborn book. The author of this one, Ukari thought glumly, really believed he was special.

Before he could get further than a page into the book the door behind him opened. "I'm sorry. The library is closed for the evening." Ukari called out. "Please come back tomorrow."

"Apologies Elder," a young voice, likely a runner, said from the doorway, "King Byrrnoth has called for you."

"Me?" Said Ukari as he slid the book back to its proper place. "Do you know why?"

"No," said the runner, "but, the call went out to all scholars not already engaged in projects for the Hold."

All scholars, mused Ukari, as he followed the runner. He wouldn't really call himself a scholar. Books were his call, not discovering new knowledge. What could the king want with someone like him? Whatever it was hopefully it wouldn't pull him away from his library for too long. King Morgrim Blackbeard's records of battle needed to be pulled and cleaned again. That always took a while.

The meeting room was filled with the steady light of runes and quizzical looks. Ukari sat down in an open chair and looked around the room as everyone else looked at him. Deciding, rightfully so, that he didn't know anything the gazes turned away and murmurs softly filled the room. Several more scholars came and sat before the door banged open and King Byrrnoth strode into the room carrying a thick leather bound book.

"Please sit down," said the king as he motioned towards everyone who had rose, "There are several things that need to be taken care of, so let's get started. First High King Thorgrim has sent a call out for all available scholars in Barak Varr. They are asked to travel to Karaz-a-Karak and aid in a project."

Ukari blinked. That was certainly unusual. What could have tugged the High King's beard hard enough that a call for scholars would go out?

"I have an idea of what it could be about," said King Byrrnoth as he thumped the book he carried, "since I have also found a burning desire for every scholar I can gather. I don't know for sure though so only those that stay here will be told what I want them to do." King Byrrnoth then handed off the book to one of his guards and received a small cylinder back. "I have decided that a fourth of you will be going off to enjoy the hospitality of Karaz-a-Karak."

Ukari nodded at that. He wouldn't go, of course, since his library needed constant attention, but sending a fourth of those gathered would surely aid Karaz-a-Karak.

King Byrrnoth set down the small cylinder and removed the lid revealing a series of lots. "So, if we can't decide the fourth that are going before my next meeting, everyone will draw lots." The room erupted into arguments about personal projects that were too important to leave unattended.


Ukari stared sullenly at the grand meeting table in the archives of Karaz-a-Karak. He should have taken the leftmost lot. He had thought about it but second guessed himself and now he was here. Away from his books. His collection of Morgrim Blackbeard's battle records were probably being eaten by moths now. Even deep underground those horrific insects always found a way to get to his books. He glared around the vast table and took another puff on his pipe. Others at the table also had a discontented look, likely from other holds, while a significant portion were either stone faced or allowing their curiosity to show. As Ukari tapped out his pipe the Loremaster of Karaz-a-Karak stepped into the meeting room carrying a familiar looking book. Ukari nodded as the Loremaster shuffled his way to the head of the table. So whatever King Byrrnoth wanted looked at was the same as the High King. Interesting. There were very few things that would peek both of their interests and even fewer that would be sent to both of them.

"A book has recently come to the attention of High King Thorgrim," said the Loremaster, breaking the respectful silence that had descended when he arrived. "Rakilid un Thaggorhun," he said as he laid the book on the table, "is a book that records a lexicon of the skaven language, both spoken and written, translated into our tongue."

Ukari's brain halted. How? Dwarfs had broken their skulls for thousands of years trying to figure out that shit filled mud of a language. What changed?

"The book is to be considered somewhat reliable," continued the Loremaster as Ukari's brain started to turn again. "The writer is likely an umgi," angry mutters started around the table but a raised hand from the Loremaster silenced them. "I understand and share your sentiment. It is hard to trust anything crafted by the umgi. This case is special though. Trying to translate the foul language of the Skaven has been like digging through mud." Heads nodded around the table. "This book, even though crafted by umgi hands, has been giving repeatable and sensible translations to the skaven writings in our archives. There are surely mistakes and errors, and," here the Loremaster's eyes held a glimmer of genuine anger, "the formatting is terrible. But we have been digging through the mud for too long to ignore a mineshaft when we find one. It might be a mineshaft carved by umgi hands. It might not be straight or smooth. The support beams may be rotten and the whole thing may collapse into mud on us if we dig even a little bit further. But it is more than we have ever had. So," at this the Loremaster gestured to the door and mountains of boxes proceeded into the room. Behind each mountain was a young dwarf breathing hard and another mountain of boxes. "You each have been assigned a section of the more portable pieces of skaven writing we have and a copy of 'Rakilid un Thaggorhun' to get you started."

Ukari's heart started to skip as he beheld the vast array of work being carried into the room. These were only the most portable pieces? A heavy thud brought his mind to the towering pile of boxes that was set next to him. Gingerly he opened it and saw several pieces of paper nestled inside. Just this pile would take him ages. When would he get back to his books?

"For the foreseeable future this translation work is your top priority." The Loremaster said.

Ukari sighed into his beard and offered a prayer to Valya to protect his library. Then he got to work on a war he never expected to fight.
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@BoneyM
Omake for the Omake throne.
A piece thinking about how touchy some scholars are about their personal projects and how being called away from home would sit with some of them. Please enjoy and if you have any critiques please share them. They help me become a better writer!