Warhammer Fantasy: Divided Loyalties - an Advisor's Quest

You play with the coin, dancing it through your fingers. Gambler, Night Prowler, Deceiver, Protector, Father. It's not a normal habit for you; but right now you're more stressed than you ever have been. In… you glance at the clockwork timepiece on the wall, five minutes, you will complete the greatest work of your career. Success could mean changing the world for the better. Failure could, well, also change the world, but definitely for the worse.

The coin dances between your fingers, the face shifting everytime. Gambler, Night Prowler, Deceiver, Protector, Father, Gambler, Night Prowler, Deceiver -

"Mathilde?" You fumble and drop the coin, but snatch it out of the air. Dragomas has the decency to keep a straight face as you quickly rethread it and drop it under your shirt. Once done and you turn to him, he nods. "Everything is ready." You nod back, and follow him out of the tent. Showtime.

---

It's been the work of many years, blood, sweat, tears and prayers. It's taken so many deals, a kingdoms worth of resources, unfathomable amount of magic, hundreds of slit throats, the threat of a schism in the colleges, a religious upheaval, one or two near wars and one actual war, barrels and barrels of ale, beer, wine, brandy, vodka, something from Lustria called jora-

Anyway. It's been a lot of work. And the final project now stands before you. The main body is a seven meters tall column of finest marble, quarried from deep beneath Karak Eight Peaks. It's inlaid with various metals and jewels, and decorated with numerous styles; Runes of multiple kinds next to arcane patterns, frescoes depicting religious scenes & creatures surrounded by carved writings in ancient languages. Every detail is significant even a small chip on an edge, halfway up the side has an esoteric function.

You could spend a great deal of time thinking about the various features of this new improved waystone. How it can, theoretically, hopefully, handle twice the amount of energy as the old versions. How it strengthened all waystones connected to it. The multiple layers of defence built in; the disguising and obfuscating spells, the runic array that immediately attacks anyone that used Dhar in the area, the alarm system that can be linked to various items to warn of tampering. How a mage could now safely draw a single wind from it, or a runesmith can recharge runes faster…

Someone coughs and you quickly escape your musing. Slowly and stately you turn around, trying to pretend you were just doing a last inspection. The crowd watching you is quite large; some have travelled far to this stretch of Estalian coastline, the location of the waystone connection between The Old World and Ulthuan.

Front and center, of course, are the members of the Waystone Project. Panoramia is closest, a soft look on her face, with Wolf at her feet. Horstmann, Johann & other members of the Colleges are there, waiting patiently. Thorek is standing in front of a gaggle of lesser runepriest & apprentices, proud as a new father. Lord Hatalath & Cadaeth represent the Eonir. Baba Niedzwenka & the full Ice Witch Zlata stand in a slowly expanding circle of frost. Baba Brzeginias, axe at hip, delicately converses with a Damsel. A group of cloaked halflings. Loremaster Teclis, despite his status as a "consultant" instead of a full member, stands with his students while discussing something with the pair of Skink Priests watched over by their Saurus guardians. A collection of multi-species priests, Kasmir & Heideck among them, mingle with mundane but knowledgeable scholars. And the lone Norscan sorcerer, sweating in his wolfskin cloak, tries to pretend every second person doesn't want to do painful things to him (odd duck that one).

Behind them are the many personages of importance that had come to witness this potentially historic moment. Luitpold I watches with interest while Heidi smiles knowingly. Roswita Van Hal stands with the other Elector Counts or their representatives, glaring at the back of the Norscan's head. Multiple Lord Magisters from the Colleges stand around Dragomas, including multiple Lord & Lady Greys as well as Master Regimand, who gives you a quick smile as you catch his eye. Young Mandred, still looking awkward in his robes, stands between the Imperial Court and the Colleges.

Meanwhile, the Dwarven delegation is lead by Throgrimm Grudgebearer himself, sat sternly atop the Throne of Power. On one side is Belegar, looking ready to duck at the first sign of problems and the other is Kragg the Grim, who seems to be grumbling continuously behind his beard. On the other side of the gathering is the High Elves; the Lion Guard Captain Alastar represents the Phoenix King, the Everqueen is represented by her daughter Aliathra, while Prince Tyrion lurks behind her like a mother hen. Next to the Asur are the Asrai, including the mysterious Sisters of Twilight, and the Enoir led by their Queen. Tsar Boris Bokha stands next to a massive polar bear, both taking the heat surprisingly well. Another Skink Priest atop a Troglodon, although the massive presence floating above him suggests he is merely a view-piece. Bretonnian Dukes, Grail Knights & Damsels. Estalians & Tileans. Sundry other nobles, scholars and anyone that knew of the Project, was able to travel, and is trusted enough not to cause problems. Every nation and race of the Old World & beyond is represented, and as they realize you are about to begin, every eye turns towards you.

No pressure.

You begin with an edited history of the Waystone Network; their original creation by the Old Ones for their unknown purposes, the repairs conducted by the ancient Asur following the creation of the Vortex. The expansion overseen by the Dwai Ancestor Gods, the various human magical practices based around the stones. The slow degradation of the Network over thousands of years, by forces of Chaos, mortals seeking power, the simple passage of time. You talk of the founding of the Waystone Project, the many people from different walks of life brought together in common purpose, the convergence of so much knowledge, and the secrets pulled from the past. Finally you detail the creation of the new waystone design, the first of which stands behind you, and the Project's plan for the future; replacing all damaged & major waystones. Finding and destroying what few chaotic waystones, such as Beastmen's Herdstones, survived your short purges. And, once all the work is complete, the great council that would be held to decide what other projects can be done to improve the world, and fight back the forces of Chaos.

Your long, long speech finally done, you turn back to the waystone. Carefully, reverently, you pick up the final piece; a grey gem, carved into a sword. While it is indeed essential, putting this into place is not enough to truly activate the waystone. As you delicately slot the gem into its place on a depiction of the Wheel of Magic, you silently chant a spell so complex that even you, who transcribed it from a tablet carved by a nameless Old One, don't understand. The click of the gem seems to echo in the deepest parts of your soul, and as you step back the waystone begins to thrum with magical energy, building rapidly. You offer up one final prayer.

[Waystone Activation, 100+(so many modifiers, oh god so many) =4545.]

The wave of energy that washes over you is like a breath of fresh air after spending a lifetime living in the smog filled cities of the Dawi Zharr. Trace amounts of Dharr you'd never even notice are pulled to the waystone, spiralling around it as they split into all eight winds. Above the pyramidal peak, the threads combine once more, but this time turn into Qhaysh, true magic, a rainbow that shoots straight up into the sky. High above, it splits; the majority moves towards the south west, towards its final terminus, while a smaller amount moves northwards towards the previous major waystone.

Before you can turn around, a second wave of magic flares around you, this time going outwards. You're so surprised it takes a few seconds to recognise some important facts; the waystone wasn't the epicentre, you were, and it wasn't simply magical energy, it was divine magic. Quite familiar divine magic…

Fearing the worst, but not sure what that might be, you turn. The whole crowd seems to have been stunned; nobles & magic users alike swaying slightly, eyes glassy. Even the few animals seem affected. The few that are not are Wolf, who seems to be silently laughing; Heideck, who is looking awed and confused; and Heidi, who looks more smug that you think a mortal can actually be.

"Mathilde," Panoramia says, sounding out of breath, "Do you know what you've done?"

"...No?" you ask hesitantly.

"You've saved the world, Mathilde!" and her face is full of love and joy, "You saved everyone!"

Oh No.

"Soul of dawi, that one," Thorek cries over the rising hubbub of the crowd. "Despite the Umgak body she's stuck in!"

"I suppose this definitive proof that my, ah, 'experiment' is well worth it." Teclis says, and his students, some of whom held no little disdain for you, nod.

"This is perhaps among the greatest victories of the Empire, nay," declares Luitpold "of all the forces of Order!"

You desperately pull out the coin and bring it to your face, muttering denials. The dagger icon of the Protector seems to mock you. From the back of the crowd comes an unidentifiable but recognisable voice, somehow sneaking through all other sounds; "Three cheers for Mathilde the Hero! Hip Hip!"

"Hooray!" shouts the majority of the Empire natives.

Across the ocean in the deepest part of the jungle, the Temple Cities come to life. Skinks chatter excitedly while Saurus drum on their shields. Kroxigors raise their heads and howl, while the Slann raise their arms in jubilation. Even in the depths of the temples, where long dead priests rest, there is a susurration of wonder.

"Hip Hip!" This time the elves and dwarves join in, too overjoyed to be embarrassed. "Hooray!"

In the far east, the dragon children burst from their cities, joyfully crying out to each other as they twirl. The Empress and Emperor, so rarely seen, join them in flying about the Celestial City, rejoicing in a way they have not had the chance to in millennia.

"Hip Hip!" Even the animals join the cry, crying out to the heavens, as the world itself seems to shake from the celebrations occurring all across it. "HOORAY"

In the Warp, not the realms of Chaos but of the Divine, gods of all races and domains recognise this single mortal, what she has accomplished. Swords, staves and assorted drink holders are raised in salute. Even Sigmar, knowing well her hate for him, gives a solemn nod. Somehow, all these deities miss the man standing behind them, smiling the widest smile an immortal can.

"Damn you Ranald," you mutter.

---

No I still don't apologise.

I got inspired by the current discussion. Take this as the best outcome of the Waystone Project, including getting everyone involved that we logically could, and some extras.

This piece is called "Damn You Ranald," in case there was any doubt.