RHUNRIKKI STROLLAR (Warhammer Fantasy Golden Age Dwarf Runelord Quest)

Winning Vote: said:

[X] Let them come to you. Random Encounter.
[X] Brynna quietly watching a group of Zornish warriors go about their duties.
[X] Vragni Silverbrand and his horde of attendant apprentices.

Click to expand...

Click to shrink...

The King of Kraka Krum is among the latter half of the participating lords to arrive, and it causes a bit of a stir when he and his Throng finally do.

You were among your Retainers when the Throng of Krum came marching into camp, the vast majority of their warriors carrying mattocks, pickaxes and other mining implements in favour of more conventional weaponry. The Hold's original settlers were mostly composed of Mining Clans or industries related to it, with the largest three among them the most influential. Clan Bitterstone, the Ruling noble Clan of the three, was founded by a grandchild of Grungni, Kemli Bitterpick. Clan Coalfinger, who despite their rather plain history compared to the other two, were far wealthier than most Clans their size or age after striking it rich in the hinterlands of Azul. And lastly, Clan Diamondback, a Runesmith Clan emerging as a result of a many times great-grandchild of Thungni marrying the daughter of the Miner who saved him from dying in a cave in Izril, who was Lady Ogra's own grandfather. They would be respectably old in the eyes of many Clans, but only just entering middling age in the eyes of the Runesmiths, you knew that having one of their own ascend to the rank of Runelord was a point of great pride.

That same Runelord, you're fairly sure, was no doubt responsible for the massive stone statue being carted forward by a dozen or so of Krum's Throng.

Thanks to the efforts of the Rangers and your Hearth Guard all those years ago, the northern Kings were made aware of a troublesome quirk of Fimir territory. The farther west, and thereby closer to the Fimir, one got the more difficult the terrain became to traverse. The western lowlands had been transformed from the chilling forests and icy plains endemic everywhere else on the peninsula into bitterly cold swampland devoid of any living plantlife and constantly pelted by rain or blanketed in fog. An almost impassable mire of muck and water that could range in depth from ankle height to outright swallowing a fully armoured Dwarf whole, never mind the baggage train and siege engines. You have suspicions, bordering on absolute certainty, that the Fimir have been using the Stone Monoliths you know they've captured to power such an unnatural transformation. Something you have told Gloin about, and he relayed, though without mentioning the Stones, to the rest of the campaign's leadership.

And this monument of stone was apparently Ogra's response when the King of Kraka Krum brought that state of affairs to her attention.

The statue itself is a depiction of Grungni the Builder, a hammer and chisel held firmly in his stony gloves while a mattock and shield hung from his back. An unknown Master Rune, that from a glance you can see some similarity with the Master Rune of Grungni, glows on its chest, while the regular Rune of Grungni and another Rune you have not yet seen glows faintly on each one of his tools.

Whatever it is, you don't doubt it would do what the Runelord made it for.


You are made aware of quite the odd situation by one of your retainers during your stay at the camp. Apparently, there had been a bit of a kerfuffle between some of Dawi from Dorden and the Zornish immigrants about something or other. By the time one of your retainers had arrived, things were getting closer than desired to an outright brawl between the Zornish and the Dordenites. Thankfully the presence of elders several centuries older than each group's oldest members, that being your retainers, puts a stopper to the situation long enough for Lady Brynna to arrive and clear up the misunderstanding.

From what your retainers told you, it seemed the situation between both groups had come about because the Zornish Dwarfs had been evasive when answering the Dordenites' questions, and the latter had pushed the issue looking for a proper answer. It makes you curious, and so you are roused from your place and find your feet taking you over to where Brynna currently was, sitting at a table with a hefty tome in her hands.

"Lady Brynna," you call, walking up to her casually.

"Honoured Elder," she replies, putting down her book to look and nod back at you, "How may I be of service?"

"Just came by to offer my thanks, and, If I'm to be honest, to sate some personal curiosity," you answer, taking a seat across from her.

Brynna looks at you curiously, "I am pleased to know I managed to aid you once again. As for the latter, I must admit I am interested in knowing what could pique your curiosity."

"They're related to each other I suppose. That kerfuffle between those youngsters and Dorden, you have my thanks for stepping in and solving the situation when my lads couldn't manage it. But I must say I wouldn't mind a bit of clarity about how it got to that point in the first place if you don't mind me asking?"

"The days of the Remit are long past, yet its scars run deep Lord Klausson, what transpired is merely one of them," Brynna explains.

"A cultural holdover from the period, you're saying," you summarize.

Brynna nods.

"We all understand that our lives, our honour, do not solely belong to us, but also the Clan's yes? And having lived among the Dwarfs of the Young Holds for nigh on two centuries, I realize that those of Zorn take such thoughts to heart more literally than the rest of our kin. So yes, it is a holdover as you say, from when Kings were tyrants and the Clan was all that stood in between ruin and survival. Yet such protection required sacrifice, for every demand they managed to lessen we were expected to pay such a price forward. A father may have saved his daughter from being married against her will, a Blacksmith allowed to retain their career, but in so doing the Clan often suffered another cost. In return, it was expected we adhere to the Clan's edicts, that we obey the command of our Thane or Elder Council, that we give of ourselves when called because we understood that it was often the cheaper price to pay compared to what the lieges demanded. That is why those youngsters are so evasive, to utter denial, to say no to our betters was to risk their wrath and censure, thereby forcing the Clan to suffer needlessly. Better then to make motions of agreement, to convince one's lord against such a course with honeyed words and phrases while making them believe it was their idea to begin with, never fully committing but saying enough to be given a reprieve and be able to report back to one's kin. Such was the way of survival for those who had forsworn their rights under threat of extinction; step lightly, praise easily, never outright deny."

"A grim life," you mutter, unable to say much more.

" 'Better a grim life than no life at all,' as my kin would have said," Brynna responds sardonically.

You look at her curiously.

"I take it you don't agree with those words then?" you ask, noting how it certainly recontextualizes Brynna's decision to come north entirely on her own.

"I understand the necessity of such practices in our past. I do not begrudge my Forefathers for the choices they made, yet I am not blind to the plight suffered by the ones forced to bear the lesser burden they negotiated. A stronger Clan meant they could better protect us, it was argued, and yet it could just as easily be said that the Clansmen became slaves to the Clan. The traditions of that time are no longer necessary thanks to the work of the Ancestors. The Clan need not fear unjust taxation, craftsmen need not fear reassignment or death, and brides need not fear a marriage against their will. And yet sometimes those who lead us forget that truth. Or perhaps they simply choose to ignore it, to better keep their leverage and power over those who are their kin as if they were the Kings of old come again."

Not hard to tell there's a bit of baggage in there, what with how grim her eyes look, or how she imperceptibly deflates at the end of her tirade. It's hard to tell if the decision was so difficult that even two centuries later it still troubles her, or if the altercation simply brought up bad memories she's since moved on from. In either case, it's very clear she's been put in a less than ideal headspace answering your questions. The friendly thing to do, you reckon, is to do something to draw her out of it.

A part of you asks if you actually consider Brynna a friend or not. Your discussions have certainly been adversarial, but only in an intellectual sense. You've never felt any outright hostility, certainly a good deal of hesitation and distrust about things, but then she was from Zorn. More than that, she had displayed a willingness, for someone from that Hold at least, to adapt to her new circumstances. If you stretched it, you could consider things…positive? She's certainly helped you, and at the very least you owe it to her.

Or, if you didn't want to be overly complicated about it, showing a bit of kindness in such circumstances seemed the right thing to do.

"I am of the opinion," you begin solemnly, gaining your colleague's attention, "That every Dwarf understands sacrifice, and we are taught to give of ourselves for the sake of kith and kin. It is something we do, proudly so, if called to. And yet the Ancestors understood that every Dwarf also has their own pride, their own honour; that there is always a line, a task that one cannot, will not do. A Clan ought not to ever ask a member to cross that line, in an ideal world at the least, and the Ancestors, as you've said, have made it so that such circumstances are far less likely to occur. So, if every avenue of recourse has failed, and no compromise can be reached, then it is in the best interest of both parties to go their own ways in my opinion. Better a clean break than a wound left to fester."

"Even if it would bring great honour to your kin, raise their status second only to the Royal Clan?"

"Aye, even then I suppose. If it's beyond what you're willing to do, then it's beyond what you're willing to do. What someone considers worth crossing that line over is entirely up to them and them alone," you answer.

"And what," she asks, "are yours, Honoured Elder? The line, and what it would cost to cross it."

You don't reply immediately. Instead, you start remembering kind eyes, golden braids and a time of utter contentment. A time of dreams and promises, ones that were broken by circumstance and tragedy.

"If they demand I be wed I suppose. It is expected of me to sire heirs, but that opportunity has passed and now I have an heir anyway. As for the cost? I haven't the faintest clue. It's not something I've considered."

"In general? Or simply being forced to?"

[ ] [Line:] In general. There has only been one, and with Valaya as your witness, there will only ever be one. From the moment you wed you belonged to each other, and not even death would have you break that oath.
[ ] [Line:] Being forced. Do you have it in you to open your heart again? Maybe. It may never come to pass and you may never actually meet anyone who you would even consider being romantic with, but you wouldn't dismiss the idea if it ever did happen.

The remainder of your conversation is, thankfully, far less grim and depressing, and by the time you leave Brynna you've managed to find yourself agreeing to a Rune trade between the both of you after the year's campaign was over.

All in all, a fairly positive outcome.


A few days after that, you find yourself the one being approached with a curious proposal from a member of the cult of Valaya.

A young-ish member of the Clergy, Freyda Truesilver is an unknown quantity to you, but apparently, she has connections to members of the Valkyrie Guard, and through them had seemingly poked and prodded at the former members who were part of your retinue about an initiative she wanted your support for. One that the retainers in contact with her saw as something at least worth considering, given they came to you about it. So you cautiously accept the young priestess's request and host her in your tent. Where you expect to see a woman well into her middle age, and while she certainly acts like it, to your very minor surprise Freyda looks a good deal younger. Her hair, which for most would be partway silver by now, still retains the pale golden sheen of a younger Dwarf and her face is rather bereft, but was not free, of the lines that come from growing old. Her youthful appearance would have looked wildly out of place in the ornate purple robes that denote her high rank in the Clergy, had she not exuded the airs that better fit her actual age.

"Thank you for meeting with me Lord Klausson," she says, sitting down in the empty chair opposite you.

"Ylva put in a good word on your behalf so I'll do her the courtesy to at least hear you out, and that isn't something to be taken lightly. So then Miss Truesilver, what exactly made you jump through all of those hoops to meet with me of all people?" you ask plainly.

To her credit, Freyda takes your bluntness in stride.

"I'd like to see these forts used for more than a garrison when the war is done," she explains, "But to do that I need support. And seeing as you are the greatest and oldest Runelord of the North, your backing, alongside the Cult of Valaya's, would greatly improve the odds of the Northern Kings agreeing to my proposal."

"And what exactly does your vision entail?" you question, looking her in the eye.

"The entire peninsula settled ideally, but more immediately I'd like to see the fortresses being turned into Holds. Not every last one obviously, but a not-insignificant chunk of them were raised in places that, after I had several contacts assess their suitability, are as equally ripe as being a settlement as they are a defensive work. Even those that couldn't be used as a home outright are good strongpoints that merchants and potential colonies or mining camps could use as trading hubs," she continues, beginning to pull out maps and charts from the folds of her robes.

"...Continue," you reply cautiously, re-evaluating the priestess in your mind even as you look over the information she's revealed.

"I aim to convince the Kings that offering more general support for the raising of colonies in the region after the war's end is in their best interest. If for no other reason than the fact that having Dwarfen eyes everywhere minimizes the chance of some dark power raising an army from under their noses. Moreover, once they become prosperous they provide a significant economic and diplomatic opportunity for those who helped them along the way. After all, who knows what else may be found with a dedicated Dwarf presence plumbing the earth and uncovering potential resources that could prove to be a benefit to everyone in the North. It is a short-term payment for a high likelihood of long-term benefit. I'm not asking them to send armies to protect the roads and save every settlement from attack, not that I wouldn't take the opportunity if I thought I could convince them to do it mind you, simply use their influence to tempt potential colonists north and westward, offer aid with the understanding that said debt will be repaid in the future, and even see if they can knock an ambitious Clan or two loose to get the whole process going."

"And my backing would go a long way in making that a reality."

"Just so. I'm confident I can get them to at least agree to the idea, but ideally, I'd like them to be more involved with that. My plan mostly involves getting Kraka Drakk on side, not just because your Kings have proven more amenable to offering that sort of aid, but also because wherever the Dragon Hold goes the others usually follow suit. And with the support of the Gift Giver, I believe I'll have fair odds of getting them to agree, never mind the pull you have with the rest of the North."

You grunt.

Least she isn't asking you to settle them yourself. Having a hand in the founding of two Holds was more than enough for any Dwarf, and more so because Khazagar, both its construction and the inevitable challenges you'd face establishing it, would be eating up a considerable amount of your time and resources for the foreseeable future. Participating in this sort of politicking may draw a few more eyes than you may like, but the benefits were obvious enough that it would have been well worth it in your eyes if the trollgut bomb that was Khazagar wasn't currently in your hands. Ultimately you decide to-

The Colonization Proposal.
[ ] [Support:] Fully Support the proposal.
Freyda will almost assuredly get the Northern Kings to agree to her proposal and with good odds of them agreeing to ideas she considered outside her reach before. You'd be throwing your weight around in this manner, and it will show. With Silverbrand in Ornsmotek there's sure to be pushback there because of it. Gain +2 Standing with the Cult of Valaya. Unlocks Options. Cost: [70 Favours from Kraka Ornsmotek, 50 Favours from Kraka Dorden, and Ravnsvake, 30 Favours with Kraka Drakk]
[ ] [Support:] Partially Support the proposal.
Freyda will likely see her proposal agreed to, but anything beyond the minimum will be on her and her alone. Your word carries weight, and you suppose this is as good a use for it as any. Gain +1 Standing with the Cult of Valaya. Unlocks Options. Cost: [30 Favours from Kraka Dorden, Ornsmotek and Ravnsvake, 10 Favours with Kraka Drakk]
[ ] [Support:] Refuse to Support the proposal.
With Khazagar, and now the War on top of your already extensive list of duties you don't believe it's in anyone's interest for you to stretch yourself even thinner helping Freyda get her proposal through. Nevermind any potential arguments about.


A hammer rings out for a final time, and the clarion ringing echoes through the cavern for what feels like an eternity, followed by a restful silence.

Beautiful. Radiant. Wondrous.

It is one of the finest work these old hands have forged, though not the one closest to His heart. The wonder of wonders, the shape of all that He is, that They are, made manifest.

It shall be the last these yet mortal hands, already unravelling and only grown worse by this act, shall create as they currently are.


When the last of the participating Kings and his Throng reaches the camp there is little time between his arrival and the call for a general council of the campaign's leadership, Runelords included, to discuss the combined Throng's strategy in the coming months.

It took the lad long enough.

Feeling that you've gathered enough wool, you are all too eager to finally get down to actually doing something about the cyclopean lizard wizards that have made themselves a thorn in your side. Perhaps because of that anticipation, you leave your accommodations, Karstah in tow, and head for the command tent earlier than you normally would. And perhaps because of that decision you find yourself face to face with Vragni Silverbrand, the one Runelord who has arguably committed the most time and effort to the goal of driving the Fimir out of the peninsula amongst you, and the gaggle of Dwarfs of varying ages who you've heard are the swarm of apprentices that follow him everywhere.

Vragni is the spitting image of a traditional Runelord if there is such a thing, or at the very least he's gone to great pains to immediately make someone think as such when they see him. His appearance looks to have been carved straight from a slab of stone, dark blue eyes glare at you from beneath a strong brow, and a long aquiline nose juts out from between them, beneath which an impressive amount of silvery facial hair sits. The length of his moustache is such that despite the stiffness of his hair, the sheer amount of it makes the ends droop downwards and begin to look like a doorway, framing his mouth and the pronounced frown it bears, his beard is equally white, finely braided and tamed with a good deal of metal jewelry that glows with Runic power.

As for the rest of his appearance, Vragni's armour consisted of thick and intricately carved Gromril plate for his torso and forearms. Well articulated, yet deceptively bulky gloves made of the same material envelop his hands, one of which holds a heavy helm that looks like it would cover almost every part of his face save his mouth, by one of the two massive spiralling horns that adorn it. Hints of a well-made wool shirt can be seen poking out from under the sheets of brass plated scale mail that covers what isn't protected by plate. A wickedly sharp hand axe, alongside multiple sealed drinking horns and several satchels, dangle from his belt, the weapon itself was opposite of where the helmet was. Meanwhile, the round silhouette of a shield can be seen hanging from his back. Befitting someone who bears the rank of Runelord, nearly every item he carries has the telltale glow of Runecraft.

The sight of the two of you standing across from each other must make quite the image. Vragni's traditional garb and party of apprentices could not be farther from your snow-white armour and its scaly undersuit, your prosthetic eye and the presence of both Mhorni and Karstah behind you.

"Lord Klausson," Vragni mutters, voice curt.

"Lord Silverbrand," you return plainly, eyeing the gaggle of dwarfs behind him who, unlike their Master, are far less capable of hiding their negative opinion of you. It's been a while since you've been looked at quite so negatively, so blatantly and by so many people.

Karstah had told you about her interactions with Tarni, who you note was one of the few of Vragni's swarm who seemed to have an expression that was more than simple displeasure at the sight of you, her teacher's supposed rivalry with you, the distaste he held for you and your methods, and how he seemed to have passed it on to his numerous students. Frankly, it had made you curious, but not so much as to investigate further. Perhaps you should have asked Igna after all. Nevertheless, you are prepared enough that coming face to face with the reality your heir spoke of does not throw you for a loop, not that you would have ever shown it otherwise, and so you pay the glares and grumbles from Dwarfs who were centuries your junior no mind.

"I offer you my congratulations," Vragni says, "To have the chance to work with one's betters is a rare opportunity that ought not to be wasted."

So that's how it'll be.

"Indeed," you agree, "I'm proud to be considered skilled enough to join the ranks of the Burudin."

Vragni's moustache twitches.

"It speaks well to the wisdom of the Burudin to bring you into the fold, such inspiration needs guidance after all."

"And I am honoured to know that they saw my work as worthy of the time and effort of guiding," you respond, staring him straight in the eye.

"It certainly is, for them to put aside their own work to help you shows a great deal of care," Vragni agrees.


Karstah wasn't sure what to make of Vragni Silverbrand before this point-

"I see you've gotten a new eye to replace the one you lost," Lord Silverbrand comments, glancing nonchalantly at her teacher's prosthetic, "It's a finely made piece, it must have been difficult finding the time to make it."

"My niece's work actually. Thungni's belief in her talents is a great source of pride as both her Uncle and Master," her teacher clarifies, voice purposefully light and chipper in a way that was more at home coming from Lady Snerra than him.

"Then offer my compliments to her craftsmanship, flourishing as she has is a fine sign of her own talent and abilities," the other Runelord corrects himself.

-but as she continues to listen to the exchange of barbs and thinly veiled insults traded between him and her teacher, her opinion of him continues to sour. The individual she had built up in her mind clashing brutally with the man in front of her.

She had done her research beforehand, borne out of curiosity kindled from spending so much time around Tarni and hearing stories about her master during her journeying, and later as part of a personal desire to understand the Runesmithing community of her home and the surrounding Holds. What Karstah had learned then painted the picture of, for lack of a better term, a more conservative version of her own Master. Politically, nowhere near as active as her own teacher, Lord Silverbrand largely kept himself to business relating to Runesmiths and Runesmiths alone. There were no grand reclamations or founding of Holds, no Retainers sent out into the wilds at his behest to aid the people of his home, but that wasn't to say he was inactive or uncaring, he just appeared to be less overt. Where her master didn't seem to mind getting involved directly, his counterpart only worked through his creations and subordinates. Largely by either equipping the Dwarf or Dwarfs best suited to solving whatever the pressing issue was with several pieces of synergistic Runecraft, or by seconding his apprentices to whatever expedition or task he saw as necessary as part of their training.

Which neatly led to her second major observation about the Runelord of Ornsmotek. Like Master Snorri, Lord Silverbrand prided himself on his productivity, but what she found most interesting was in how differently he expressed it given his strict adherence to the Rule of Pride. Conservative Runesmiths generally had two responses to the limits imposed by the Rule, either becoming selective in the application of the Runes they used, or seeking to circumvent the limit by creating new Runes, and from what she could gather Lord Vragni was an extreme example of the latter. From what Tarni let slip, she knew that he devoted a large amount of his time creating variants or combinations of existing Runes that could only just count as an entirely new Rune, and by building a vast mental library of Rune variants he could mix and match to create whatever effects he wished. She had to admit that while the cost of getting to the point Lord Vragni currently stood seemed extreme even for her, both in terms of financial and personal cost, he had practically circumvented the Rule of Pride. Every new Rune he learned effectively expanded the number of Combinations he could create by a wide margin, and that number only grew for every new Rune learned.

A whisper in the depths of her mind asks if this outcome was what Thungni wanted to happen.

And if that wasn't enough, he somehow found the time to teach not one, not two, but several dozen apprentices as well. He did not make his methods known, but extrapolating from Tarni, her best guess was that it was some practice of having the older apprentices set an example for their younger counterparts in a more fleshed-out version of what Lady Snerra underwent with Dolgi and Fjolla. However, he managed it the results spoke for themselves when a quarter of a Hold's Runesmiths and counting could count a direct link to you. If Karstah were being totally honest she would admit that Vragni poured a great deal of resources into his apprentices' education and wellbeing, maybe even more than Master Snorri. Though not without good reason she supposed. Tarni's stories made it obvious that Vragni expected his apprentices to be capable of creating proper Runes, ones actually worth being used by Dwarfs other than themselves, far earlier than Master Snorri expected from her or any of his other apprentices. It was this expectation, and the work he put into making it a reality, that served as the second way he circumvented the Rule of Pride. An apprentice, after all, was the only rank universally accepted to be exempt from the Rule, and by sending his apprentices out as his emissaries and proxies for less glamorous jobs Lord Vragni not only helped them build their own individual reputations but also let him do what he felt needed to be done with impunity. These apprentices, similarly, were a mark of his own favour, showing where the Runelord stood on the side of any argument in a way that was more meaningful than even a piece of Runecraft made by his own hands.

Vragni Silverbrand wasn't as open or visible about his deeds as Master Snorri was, but they both shared the same, borderline-otherworldly, work ethic that allowed them to impact things. It was simply expressed in different ways.

By Grungni, if she believed Tarni, Lord Vragni was generally a calm and thoughful person, one devoted to his Hold and more patient with his students than most, a large amount of the time. Only the mention of her teacher, his works, or anything related to him, seemed to rattle and upset him.

"I suppose we've spent enough time on chit chat," her Master says, gesturing to the tent flap, "After you Lord Vragni."

"No, I insist that you go first Lord Klausson. I need to speak with my apprentices for a moment," Lord Vragni excuses, pointing a thumb at the crowd behind him.

"I see. Very well then, come along Karstah," her Master grumbles, "we've dawdled enough."

She turns and nods, even as she keeps an eye on the stares and glares of Vragni and his apprentices, following in after Master Snorri as he walks into the tent.


You enter the tent and situate yourself next to King Gloin, Karstah moving to stand behind you as Gimli does the same for his father. Around you, several more Dwarfs walk in and take their seats around the massive table.

"Lord Klausson," the king greets, nodding at a Huskarl who slides over a frothing tankard at the gesture.

"Your Highness," you return with a small nod of your own.

"Normally it's not my business, but I've heard a few things about the relationship between you and Lord Silverbrand. It wasn't an issue when it was only one of you on the campaign, so I must ask if I should take that into account now?"

You pause and think about it. A not altogether unwarranted question you must admit given what just happened outside. There have been feuds between Dwarfs, Clans, and even Holds volatile enough that strategic concerns needed to be adjusted to manage it. Much as you may wish to believe your folk are better than that, you are, in the end, Dawi one and all. It is a facet of rulership, to deal with such quarrels. Only the Ancestors have ever forced such tomfoolery to the wayside, the weight of their presence enough to make even the bitterest rivals shut their mouths while under their command. Alas, there are only seven Ancestors, and far more feuds and rivalries.

"If it's necessary I think the two of us can manage, but I'd prefer if we didn't. More for the sake of my sanity than anything else. I'll be clear though, the entire debacle is, mostly, one-sided," you reply.

"Oh?"

"Hmph. I just spent the last few minutes caught in a verbal slap fight with him before I came in here. So that should tell you enough that he's willing to be that antagonistic on campaign."

"Enough to pester you, but smart enough not to escalate it to anything Grudgeworthy. Disquieting that he'd do it at all," Gloin mutters, nodding.

"Guild politics," you grumble, "There will always be someone who thinks I'm not being traditional enough."

Gloin gives you a look.

Fair enough.

"Have you decided where you'll be situating yourself during the march?" Gloin queries, taking the chance to move on to the less bothersome topic of the campaign itself.

"I'm waiting to see if whatever it is the King of Krum brought could change my mind before I commit to anything," you explain.

And that was true, the statue he brought has had a small crowd around it since it first arrived. At first to admire its craftsmanship, and later treated it as a pseudo shrine to the Ancestor after confirming the acceptability of such a thing with the priests of Grungni present. Not a proper shrine, because shrines didn't move you see, but having a giant statue of Grungni frowning down at your foes and reminding you of your history all the time was never an unwanted thing. Quite a few offerings had been left at it already, and a discussion needed to be had between the priests and the King of Krum to make sure both knew who the votives were actually meant for.

With nothing left to say, you wait quietly with King Gloin as Dwarfs pile into the tent and take their seats. Heaps and heaps of Kings, Lords and Thanes charged with leading the throngs of multiple Holds, four Master Engineers, and of course your fellow Runelords and a few prominent Runesmiths from other Holds besides. When Brynna enters, she is followed soon after by Vragni, and Sven respectively, your three colleagues all have curious looks about them. Brynna is pensive, Sven ecstatic and Vragni otherwise calm besides the brief flash of pointed judgement that covers his face when he glances at you.

Curious, not the part about Vragni, but the other two. You doubt their near-simultaneous entrance was a coincidence.

As Brynna takes the seat to your right, you throw a subtle glance in her direction, the unspoken question loud and clear.

The Zornish woman does not reply immediately, but eventually, she simply shrugs and gestures at Vragni with her chin subtly. When you lock eyes with Sven, trying to suss out what exactly went on out there, he merely grins and offers you a raised tankard in acknowledgement.

Curiouser and curiouser.

You'll figure it out later.

When the last person enters the tent the eldest Dwarf among you, the one elected to serve as a mediator coughs to grab everyone's attention before he begins to speak.

"Right then," he announces, "First thing off the docket, the business about traversing the swampland we'll head into to reach the foe. Have any come forward with a solution since the adjourning of the last Campaign?"

To no one's surprise, the Master Engineers speak up and offer their plan. Normally the traditional thing to do would be to drain the swampland, clear out the mud and muck until you hit solid ground and then build a proper Dwarf road atop that such that it was raised high enough that flooding wasn't an issue and so that any rain sloughed off it, but the problem was of course that the swampland was not only contested territory, but it was most likely perpetually self-sustaining because of the Fimir's magic. Never mind the fact that there's nowhere that it can really be drained to, as the Throng would be coming down from the mountains, and whatever natural drainage basins existed were doubtlessly affected by the Fimir's muckery. Instead, the engineers proposed driving large stone piles into the muddy ground and using that as the support for a roadway composed of planks, paving stones and gravel. There are more than a few grumbles about having to rely on wood, but the engineers assure the lord's present that the swamp they were dealing with was unusually adept at preserving timber. When asked why, the four of them could give only a brief outline about how rot from mites and other such pests wasn't possible with such waterlogged and acidic soil and that anything more in-depth, like how they ascertained such a thing, were guild secrets.

Few others bring up proposals of their own, though they are all largely the same. The only outlier of course is the Dwarf who's Throng pulled a massive statue of the Ancestor into camp.

"I, Vikram Bittershield, King of Kraka Krum, bring forward an answer."

The mediator, already turned to face him, acknowledges Vikram's words with a nod and the thump of his tankard.

"The King of Karak Krum, Vikram Bittershield, shall speak."

There's a general shuffling as several dozen eyes turn to stare at the bland face of the King of Krum

"The statue is, as many of you suspect, the work of Ogra Wardmaker. Once activated, the Runes stabilize the ground both around it and for any terrain within two hundred meters ahead of it," King Vikram explains, "In her own words, 'the earth is dried, compacted and then levelled to a degree that it can be walked on by a Throng, and should stay that way long enough on its own that any beardling worth their beard can turn it into a proper road.' "

A round of considering grumbling.

"What exactly is the rate of transformation?" Vragni prods, sitting forward.

"It takes three to four minutes to transform the ground immediately around it upon activation, but afterwards it could be pulled forward up to a speed of four kilometres an hour and easily keep pace with the rate of new ground that falls under its effect."

"Would make building the road a damn sight easier. Once the statue's moved on I do not doubt that the water will seep back in, but we can use the reprieve to do what needs to be done."

The Master Engineers and Masons mutter and whisper between themselves before one of them speak on their behalf.

"It would certainly help, dry land is easier to excavate than mud after all. I am not in a position to argue either for or against marching on the soil the statue transforms, but the Throng is still a bit out from actually reaching the terrain in question. The Throng can at least test such a situation before heading into the swamps properly. Construction will benefit regardless."

"It's certainly an option we now have access to," Gloin offers, nodding at King Vikram.

"Does anyone else have anything to offer?"

There are a few grumbles, but you don't fail to notice that a few eyes, Gloin included, turn towards you expectantly.

"If necessary," you rumble, grabbing everyone's attention, "Zharrgal could in theory be used to create a stone pathway. I'd have to test it, but the magma it generates is meant to destroy enemies, not build roads, it'd be like using a pickaxe on mud."

Even with your hammer's new capabilities, you aren't sure it could be done in a timely fashion as you haven't ever tested the scale of your finer level of control to such a degree. You were all but certain that you could make a path one dwarf wide, but unless you wanted everyone to walk into Fimir territory single file, an army required something a bit more substantial.

The rest of the meeting after that is of little consequence on your end. The combined Throng shall march in two days' time with expectations to meet Fimir resistance once they leave the mountains proper and enter the foothills leading into the swampland the Fimir created. Understandably the threat of magical assault is keen on everyone's mind, as the Fimir resistance has only continued to mount with your encroachment, the number of demons, the skill of their mages and the number of more esoteric powers both can conjure have steadily been growing alongside the threat of their warriors. The strategy the Throng has adopted has been similar to what was done on the approach to Karag Dum, splitting up the Runesmiths such that no one part of the Throng wasn't under the aegis of at least two wards, with the Runelords serving as protection for particularly vital parts of the army, particularly the Vanguard at the front, the baggage train in the center, the rearguard and now the protection detail for the Grungni effigy. With the four of you, there's enough to adequately cover every section, the question is more about who goes where. The baggage train, which contains the artillery, has been all but claimed by Sven given that most of his war machines are part of it, but the three remaining spots are a toss-up between you, Brynna and Vragni.

Where among the Throng will you situate yourself.
[ ] The Vanguard. Where you're arguably your most effective. Also where Vragni has been putting himself for several decades now. Is it worth the potential headache?
[ ] The Statue. You're fairly sure that being around the big Rune statue with your equipment will only improve its capabilities.
[-] The Baggage Train. Sven is willing to go, in his words, 'to fisticuffs,' with whoever tries to get between him and his machines.
[ ] The Rear. Not particularly glamorous, but you'll be making sure the Throng isn't cut off or assaulted from behind.

You have time to discuss/do things while out on the march.
Pick 3:
[ ] A messenger from Kraka Krum, bearing a letter with the seal of Ogra Wardmaker.
[ ] A band of Runesmiths muttering to each other at levels they think are quiet.
[ ] Brynna has been meaning to ask about the eye.
[-] Rudil coming to you with questions and ideas about the Hearth Guard. You'll make time for this.
[ ] Let them come to you. Random Encounter.


Votes Collated:
Romance: NOTE, THIS JUST MEANS THAT IF IN THE FUTURE THERE WILL BE OPPORTUNITIES TO VOTE ON PURSUING A RELATIONSHIP IF THINGS END UP DEVELOPING THAT WAY WITH CHARACTERS. YOU CAN STILL VOTE NOT TO PURSUE ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS EVEN IF THE RESULTS OF THIS VOTE END UP WITH SNORRI BEING OPEN TO RELATIONSHIPS.
[ ] [Line:] In general. There has only been one, and with Valaya as your witness, there will only ever be one. From the moment you wed you belonged to each other, and not even death would have you break that oath.
[ ] [Line:] Being forced. Do you have it in you to open your heart again? Maybe. It may never come to pass and you may never actually meet anyone who you would even consider being romantic with, but you wouldn't dismiss the idea if it ever did happen.

The Colonization Proposal.
[ ] [Support:] Fully Support the proposal.
Freyda will almost assuredly get the Northern Kings to agree to her proposal and with good odds of them agreeing to ideas she considered outside her reach before. You'd be throwing your weight around in this manner, and it will show. With Silverbrand in Ornsmotek there's sure to be pushback there because of it. Gain +2 Standing with the Cult of Valaya. Unlocks Options. Cost: [70 Favours from Kraka Ornsmotek, 50 Favours from Kraka Dorden, and Ravnsvake, 30 Favours with Kraka Drakk]
[ ] [Support:] Partially Support the proposal.
Freyda will likely see her proposal agreed to, but anything beyond the minimum will be on her and her alone. Your word carries weight, and you suppose this is as good a use for it as any. Gain +1 Standing with the Cult of Valaya. Unlocks Options. Cost: [30 Favours from Kraka Dorden, Ornsmotek and Ravnsvake, 10 Favours with Kraka Drakk]
[ ] [Support:] Refuse to Support the proposal.
With Khazagar, and now the War on top of your already extensive list of duties you don't believe it's in anyone's interest for you to stretch yourself even thinner by helping Freyda get her proposal through. Never mind any potential arguments about you meddling where you oughtn't to.

- A Rune Trade with Brynna Gilded eyes after the campaign is completed.


AN: You'll never catch me waiting three months to update, twice. Had a lot happen these past two months! Got Covid, had to deal with the worst group members I've ever had, being gainfully employed for the summer, thinking about the future, getting hooked on Minecraft again. Me just want write about a small bearded man who makes many things. Why is this so hard? Anyway enough bellyaching, uh here's the ol dootarino, hope its worth the wait! I really enjoy discussing aspects of my worldbuilding, like the stuff about Zorn, if only because it makes me think harder about parts I didn't get too detailed with earlier. Also how was Vragni? I like Vragni, I didn't reveal everything about him here, so keep that in mind. As for the vote about romance, It's been something I've thought about a lot, and while I was more concerned with Smithing when I first made the quest Im at a point where I'm willing to try it. Besides, I can't get better if I don't practice right? Idk. I just wasn't sure if it was something Snorri would do IC because there are arguments to be made for either side and I couldn't decide myself. So like the weenie smart person I am, I have passed on the dilemma to you, the voters! Thanks for reading, and don't forget to C&C. :^)