I feel that our Druchii crewmen would die from laughter, if they were described like that (though, they should avoid "prayers to Khaine" within Pierre's earshot. It's possible that even his denial isn't limitless)
I feel that our Druchii crewmen would die from laughter, if they were described like that (though, they should avoid "prayers to Khaine" within Pierre's earshot. It's possible that even his denial isn't limitless)
I totally get that the character's name is Flammel in the French pronunciation (flam-mel), but every time I read it I can't help but read it as rhyming with camel.
[X] [Approach] Sneak in through the sewers to your objective.
-[X] Seize the cannons
[X] [Cooperation] Wait for Flammel's own time to coordinate with her.
When you announced your intent on waiting to coordinate with Flammel, your officers turned to you with shocked expressions. But you explained that without her aid, infiltrating the place was definitely going to be far more dangerous if the alarm was raised. At least with a horde of zombies clawing at their walls, the defenders could only redirect so many to you if discovered.
They begrudgingly agreed with a grumble that there was some good points there and settled to pass the time. Now it all came down your incredibly vain ally to determine when she was done pampering herself up to launch an attack. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too long.
(Assault Time: 50 -10 (Perfect Appearance) = 40)
Dawn broke and rose. Rations consisting of dried squid and dry hardtack were broken out for a miserable breakfast. The sun continued to climb high into the air. Medb and Thankit disappeared to go foraging while Pierre decided to practice his forms while waiting. You took to counting your ammunition again and again, making sure you had enough for the upcoming infiltration. The sun began to descend.
You noticed the others finally returning with arms filled with foodstuff and let out a whistle. "Where did you find that?" You asked while putting away the shot and powder. "That looks surprisingly fresh."
"Because it was. Came from some local villages outside these walls," Medb explained and handed over some cheese. "There's more out there than just the fort in front of us."
"I figured as much." You frowned and sniffed delicately at the block of dairy. "Huh, doesn't smell too bad. Wonder how old it is."
"Two day-period," Thankit replied and nibbled at his own wedge. "Good taste-flavor."
"Two days? Hold on, how do you know for sure?" You gave a look at the Skaven. "Don't tell me you can tell by taste."
He rolled his eyes flippantly in response and Medb answered for the chewing man-rat. "We just asked and the lady who made them was happy to talk to us about it. Though she was a bit nervous about it," She mentioned between bites of her own serving. "Maybe we smelled. Or maybe the zombies outside did."
You stopped eating and stared at the nonchalant Wood Elf. "What?" You choked and swallowed hastily. "There's people still alive in those villages?! They're not zombies too?"
"Of course not," A voice called out from the direction of the zombie horde. You turned to see their master walking through them to you, a smug smile practically radiating from her face. "I've no qualm with them. My qualm is with that of those within the settlement ahead, so I've no reason to kill random peasants," Flammel elaborated in an off-handed manner that matched the way she examined her nails.
You observed her with a wary eye, not sure what to make of her casual attitude to all this. Does she actually have a set of morals? Or is it just pure arrogance that they are barely worth her attention? You suspected that she likely didn't ask for permission beforehand to use the bodies, yet she wasn't interested in adding more to them with 'regular' methods of slaughtering the living too. Complicating her character analysis even more was the new addition of a fine short cloak to her attire, one that she certainly wasn't wearing the night before.
Flammel noticed the attention on her and shyly tugged at her new accessory like what a very naive Lahmian imitator would. "Do you think this fits my cute figure? I made it just now, I hope you weren't waiting long."
Well, at least she didn't spend all the time doing make-up then.
Before you could respond, Pierre stepped up and you stiffened. Medb and Thankit did as well when the realization hit that finally, the Questing Knight had come face to face with the one who was controlling all these zombies. Which meant-!
"You are indeed most stunning, oh fair lady!" He declared and dropped to one knee with an arm crossing his chest in a noble knight's salute. "Were I not informed otherwise, I would have never believed you slighted against. But rest assure that I have been enlightened so, and will not rest till justice is done!"
You resisted the urge to cry into your hands at the sight, and you were sure that the others were experiencing the same sort of secondhand embarrassment. It was worst by how actually earnest and honest the thickheaded man was, looking straight ahead without a single second thought. Assuming he had a single one at all, Verena's jury was still out on that in your mind.
Flammel stared, then her head mechanically rotated to face you. "Is...is he quite alright?" She asked, her voice forgoing any frivolities. "He's acting like one of those village idiots now, the ones who liked to wave sticks about."
"He might as well be one for our fleet," You mumbled under your breath and lightly prodded at Pierre with the tip of your boot. "Get up before I find the closest lake to throw you in."
The way he flashed an earnest smile without apparent regard for your comment only reinforced the urge. The fact you found yourself suddenly sympathizing with Octavia on Pierre's incredible single-mindedness was a terrifying prospect that you quickly shove out of your head to focus back on the situation at hand. Luckily, it seemed that Flammel was eager to get things rolling too and listened in on your brief explanation. "So you'll be going after those...cannons? Is that what you call them?"
"Were you not aware of what they were?" Medb asked with a raised eyebrow. "Though I suppose that being Bretonnian, you've ample reason not to know."
"When a lady needs her beauty sleep, she misses out on a fair bit," She muttered and put a finger to her chin in thought. "Say, how does it work? Do you know how?"
"We actually have some." You nodded to your Quartermaster and she withdrew a small pouch of gunpowder, a spare she kept at all times just in case. It was lightly tossed over to Flammel, who eagerly opened it and studied a pinch of it between her fingers. "I suppose a learned woman like yourself could figure it out easily?" You baited with a tilt of the head.
"Tell me how you would use this." She listened intently to your description and gave the exact same attention to a quick mock demonstration, eyes scrutinizing every move and detail. "I see. So it's a reaction between fire and this compound to create a propelling force."
"That sounds about right."
"But is there anything else to it?" Flammel asked, throwing the reserve pouch back to Medb. "Nothing else to the actual projectile, no protections to ward off interference?"
"Maybe if they add-use Warpstone," Thankit commented before shaking his head. "Unlikely they know-will."
She seemed confused by the mention but continued to think on regardless. After a moment, she nodded and snapped her fingers, a burst of Dhar flooding forth. All about, the zombies jerked into motion when Flammel took direct control. "Thank you for the information. Now I've a genuinely interesting experiment to run!" Flammel told with a wide smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Though if it fails, I'll be counting on you then."
That sounded like a plan that you could get behind. "Then we'll be on our way then. Let's see who breaches the walls first," You joked, earning a matching laugh from her.
"Oh, this'll be interesting. My genius against your experience. Let's begin then!"
The sight of the zombies shifting about certainly drew the attention of those on the walls, eyes naturally gravitating to the horde than the four figures that skirted the edges of the battlefield. You could faintly make out the shouts from above, yelling for the alert to be sent out, and smiled. The more on the walls, the less behind them that you would have to deal with. A quick glance confirmed that Flammel was taking her time and making a show of lining up her forces, but she likely could only posit for so long before they started getting suspicious or bored.
Hopefully, the disguised rat ripping open the sewer grate had experience in navigating through such tunnels.
The magical illusion around his body flickered and vanished when he scurried through the small opening. A moment later, his snout popped out and bared worn teeth. It looked like it was safe. You mentally cut off your sense of smell and ducked through, having to crouch to squeeze your way forward. Pierre followed, seemingly unfazed by the stench while Medb brought up the lower mask of her cloak. Thankfully the small outlet pipe was short and you soon entered a larger chamber that more resembled that which would be found in cities from the Empire than a settlement in Bretonnia. There was room to stand up and the smell of waste was far less, though you definitely watched where you were stepping.
Thankit seemingly had no such qualms and seemed to be entirely in his element, squeezing through holes in the walls and breaking locked doors for the group to pass through. Your passage through was swifter than you had dared hope, and quiet too save the occasional splash of water from somebody stepping in a puddle. Soon, the sense of direction his kind seemingly possessed for underground spaces directed Thankit to lead you to a way out, a set of stairs leading up to the above-ground entrance to the sewers.
You advanced up one by one, with him taking the lead. At the top, you nearly crashed into his back when he stopped all the sudden and held up a hand. "Guard-sentry," He murmured. "Single-solitary."
So they knew that the sewers was a potential weak point, but all the attention was drawn to the zombies coming from the front. You could guess that given the relatively lack of stealth the shambling undead has, a single guard was enough to hear them before they got close and could raise the alarm quickly. But they hadn't expected a team of talented individuals to do so instead.
Thankit glanced back at you, waiting for the order. You gave a single nod, then readied your weapons just in case.
He crept forward in total silence, form hunched low to the ground. Behind his back, a single flick of the wrist produced a shining knife from a belt. The one standing guard didn't notice at all, seemingly more interested with the ongoing commotion at the walls than what was coming from the sewers. A poor mistake, when the Skaven struck.
But it wasn't a clean strike as he probably wanted. The knife dug messily into their neck while Thankit pulled back, yet the unfortunate guard had still enough breath to let out a strangled scream before he twisted to knife to finish the job. You cursed and rushed up with the others, expecting trouble.
Indeed, there was the crash of metal that heralded the arrival of soldiers. Thankit was barely able to get his disguise backup moments before the first arrived. Even then, the sight of a man crouched over the body of their comrade was unmistakable, along with the presence of your group. Shouts rang out from more arriving individuals. "What's going on here!"
You nudged your Troop Officer with an elbow, hoping he could try to work his image as a clearly Bretonnian knight. Pierre's eyes narrowed and he hefted his shield. "They don't seem to recognize or respect I'm a knight," He muttered to you and you spat. There went your chance of bluffing it out.
Pierre and Thankit immediately ducked low while a wide grin sprouted on Medb's face as she reached for inside her cloak. Pistols were whipped out and she fired with reckless abandon, a laugh on her face with every bark of gunpowder. Her shots went wide from glee, hitting nobody, but that was fine. She was the laughing elf distraction.
You were the one with the precise unnatural aim, your revolver coming out and leveling on the responding guards. Every pull of the trigger was a hit and soldiers fell down, the bullet penetrating through whatever armor they had. By the time your chamber was empty, the area was filled with squirming and moaning injured mixed among the silent dead. You immediately began to reload, grimacing while the others secured the perimeter. That had been a lot of noise.
But so too was the volley of guns opening up from the walls. It was a thunderous roar that made your own pale in comparison, the might of the Empire on full display now. Yet what followed in the silence that followed the deafening defiance certainly sent a chill down the necks of mortals.
The groans of the undead, with the maniac laughing of the necromancer pulling at their strings.
You couldn't see it, but the line of zombies that had been cut down in the opening volley was already replaced by the next. If they too fell, they would be replaced in turn. Over and over again, it would continue, each front line gladly absorbing shots for the next, who would now step up to perform their controlled duty in turn. Even then, among those who fell, some were struggling to rise back up, the Dhar that infested their bodies pulling at shredded muscle and broken bone to continue the march.
The zombies advanced and the main eyes were on them, not you.
It showed when nobody else arrived to intercept you, for now. But you weren't going to test your luck further then, especially when you spied movement from the top of the tower. It looked like they were nearly finished readying the guns, so you gestured at them. "Follow me! We need to silence those cannons!"
(Tower Path: 100 +12 (Intrigue) +16 (Medb) = 128)
But only a single street later and you immediately drew up short all of the sudden, staring above. Medb crashed into your back and let out a loud curse, clutching at her nose. "Admiral! What in Vaul's name-?!"
"Medb. Take a real look up there," You ordered in a dry tone. "A real good look, because I need you to confirm that I'm not hallucinating."
Thankit and Pierre stopped confusedly while your Quartermaster grumbled but obliged. A moment later, the sound of flesh smacking flesh echoed through the street. "I see it. Those idiots."
"What's going on?" The knight asked blankly and you gestured with a long suffering sigh.
"Those idiots haven't secured their powder. It's actually laying about, like Octavia after a bar crawl."
"Oh." A long pause. "What does that mean?"
"Means they foolish-stupid," Thankit helpfully supplied. You rolled your eyes and gave a better answer, one filled with a new idea.
"It means that all it could take is a single spark, and then...boom." Given the way Medb was openly drooling, you definitely had her approval for this plan now. You reached back and touched the jezzail slung over your shoulder, grinning when you felt the magnification scope. With that and the unique rifling on the inside, it was possible.
No, you were sure of it, especially when your Helmsman noticed the motion and gave a single nod. He who was very acquainted with the one who likely made it knew its strengths well. So if you could find the right vantage point with enough height, then you could perhaps find the opportunity to strike from afar. You just needed the height now.
There, that building right there, the top level was high enough. Without second thought, you kicked the front door open, earning a gasp from the inhabitants that were clearly taking cover from the battle outside. One of them was even brandishing a knife, clearly ready to fight against the perceived invaders of their home.
You supposed that was technically true, though you weren't interested in their lives. Just that pouch of gold that you casually swept into your pocket when you passed by.
They looked ready to lunge at you for that, but that was the moment Pierre stepped in and his very appearance seemed to awe them. Even if they had the blood of the Empire flowing through them, they still lived in the lands of Bretonnia and saw the realm's defenders on a regular basis. Perhaps even a knight or two had passed on by in their quest for the Grail. They could increase that number by one now when the man approached and gently held out a hand. "Don't worry. We're not here to hurt you. We need only borrow your abode for a moment."
The terrified residents relaxed and the knife was firmly dropped into Pierre's gauntlet. He nodded pleased and stowed it away. It looked like he had the lower levels of the building under control, aided by Thankit's lookout. That left you and Medb with freedom to seize a room with a window. The wooden shutters were smashed open by the Wood Elf's foot while you readied and shouldered your jezzail, making sure that a shot was loaded.
Then you checked through the scope and grunted. It felt off, you needed to do some slight modification. From your vantage point, you had a good view of the ongoing battle and used it to help adjust the focus. It also happened to be a good way to see how it was unfolding and you watched when the zombies drew closer to the wall than they had before, their numbers smothering any sort of casualties inflicted upon them from the defenders.
There was another loud chorus but it seemed that a hopelessness of trying to fight against so many was beginning to set in. Shots went wide when soldiers fired hastily without aiming well, forgoing accuracy for fire rate. It normally wasn't a bad idea, especially against so many bodies. A glancing shot even to a limb could painfully stun a target, maybe even taking them out of the fight entirely.
But these were zombies. Glancing hits to limbs were shrugged off and ignored. Even those who had theirs blown clean off simply continued to shamble or crawl forwards. There was no stopping behind the inaccurate shots, so they continued to advance.
That was when the cannon tower opened up, a loud crack to herald its joining of the battle.
Meeting its arrival was a haughty laugh from the other side. A quick shift of your scope revealed it to be none other than Flammel, her features now warped into a cruel and mocking expression. She withdrew a book that had been clasped at your side and flipped it open with one hand, Dhar surging in the other. You frowned, not recognizing the magicks she was channeling and judging from the expression on Medb's face, neither did she.
The winds around her flared, then surged to envelop the cannon shot when it sailed towards the zombies to make a direct hit. Before your very eyes, parts of the cannonball suddenly began to shed and fall apart, turning into a powder that harmlessly sprayed across the undead with nothing to show for it. What would have been a hard blow against her forces was now mere dust, at best irritating eyes and skin but doing no other damage. Given that zombies obviously didn't care for either, they continued forward regardless.
You finally found your voice. "Well now, it appears the braggart actually can back up her words."
"Aye Admiral, and that just now was something I've only heard mentioned in passing between my teachers of the Weave," Medb quietly informed in a hushed voice. "The golden wind, bound and shackled to corruptive Dhar. A dark lore thought extinct, the forgotten brother to the Lore of Metal.
"The Lore of Alchemy."
"Whatever it is, I want it." You licked your lips greedily, then turned your attention finally to the shouting and panicking cannon crew. "And I'll get it from her one way or another. Through debt or blood if need be."
"I think you need to improve your own magic first," Medb half-joked before growing serious. Her sharp eyes locked onto the tower and she spoke easily. "This is going to be like directing my sister's shot back home, let me identify a target for you. There, that torch bearer."
"I see them," You breathed and focused intently. The world beyond your targeting sight may as well not existed, the only thing mattering now being that which you drew a bead on. "Wind?"
"A good breeze, to the right."
The barrel of the gun twitched against that. "Distance?"
"About the length of six ships."
You moved it upwards. "Got it. Tell me when the defenders are firing next," You ordered while beginning to weave Dhar into your shot.
"Understood." Medb leaned around and stared at the soldiers on the walls, intently watching their actions. "Okay, they've finished loading the powder...there goes the rod, up and down it goes...they're shouldering arms and taking aim. Get ready.
You exhaled and pulled the trigger. Your firearm's bark was hidden among the chorus of others, meaning that none at all knew from where the bullet came. All they knew was that suddenly, the one brandishing the torch to lit the cannon fuses dropped silently without a single word. A few were able to catch the fleeting sight of a bloody hole opening itself on the side of the target's head. They stared in shock and horror when the lit torch tumbled out of their hand and onto the exposed barrels of gunpowder.
Then they nothing else when their surroundings turned into flame and shrapnel and light.
The resulting detonation engulfed the entirety of the tower's top, and the resulting shockwave from it sent those not expecting it diving to the ground in fear. Secondary smaller explosions exploded when more barrels of gunpowder went up, further cratering the defensive structure in a shower of bricks. It felt like an eternity had passed in but a scant few minutes, when the sound finally died down and the initial explosion now just smoldering embers.
There was silence.
Then there was panicked wailing from the defenders when they realized their greatest asset was gone.
Then there was triumphant cackling when the zombies pressed onwards with a renewed roar.
You pulled your head back from your scope and took in the results with very satisfied grin. "Got them," You declared and turned to your Quartermaster. "You think your friend heard that?"
"I hope she did," Medb weakly told with a flutter of the eyes. "Oh Admiral, you really are a wicked Lahmian, knowing the way into a maiden's heart-"
There was a flicker of something reflecting off your scope that immediately drew your attention and you held up a finger to Medb. "Wait. Something's off," You told suspiciously and raised to peer through your rifle again. You surveyed the battlefield, sure that there had been something that caught your eye. It wasn't from the defenders, who were fleeing the wall en masse in a panicked retreat. It wasn't from the attackers, who were now scaling the wall in a wave of bodies.
No, it was from the edge of the battlefield, in the distance far behind the attackers. The light you had seen was that of Mannslieb reflecting off the metal plate of approaching warriors on horseback. Each of them wore a different colorful personal heraldry and each carried a lance, along with a sword and shield that came with their steeds.
You found your voice and swore. "Fuck. The Knights of Bretonnia are here!" You shouted and withdrew from the window to crash downstairs noisily, Medb hastily in tow. "Pierre, why are there knights approaching?!"
"You're asking why the local lords are going to protect their golden goose?!"
He had a point. You gritted your teeth, not sure what to do now. It looked like Flammel's selfish delay had definitely cost both you and her, what with a complement of local knights likely coming with a small army to break the undead siege. They had just arrived, or were perhaps sped up by you destroying the cannon tower. What a cruel twist to have just destroyed the thing that surely could have driven them off-!
No, there was no point in stewing on what could have been. Instead, you had to decide what to do next now, or risk becoming besieged yourself. Thankfully, you certainly weren't bereft of options. Now that the cannon tower was neutralized, you could safely bring your fleet of ships in and call in shore bombardment against the knights. It would take time, time in which they could advance and try to assault the walls, but if you held out for long enough, then perhaps you could break them with your superior offshore firepower.
Another option was to just ignore the knights entirely and go for the leader of the defenders now, assaulting their final little keep to do what you came here to do and rescue Medb's friend. Maybe you could even seize the wealth that was sure to be within those vaults and use them to bribe the Bretonnians into going away. But could you crack that in time before the knights overwhelmed the walls and came upon you? It would be like a hammer pressing against an anvil, the Bretonnians charging in to sweep away those who pressed at the Imperials. Flammel could perhaps direct the defense of the walls by her lonesome but no matter how powerful her Lore of Alchemy was, she was but one spellcaster.
(???: 55 +?? (???) = ??)
Idly your hand brushed to your side and you froze when you felt something there. You looked down to see a familiar tome, the prayer book to Verena you had been gifted from Zahri. Your breath hitched- why was it here? Did you perhaps accidentally take it out while instructing Beati earlier? If so, why hadn't you put it back?
Was this a message? You tried to think on why, considering the situation with every bit of knowledge you had. Anything to make sense of this possible and unexpected detail.
A horde of zombies.
A fortress wall.
A genius of forgotten magic.
A corrupt local lord.
A case of overdue justice.
A load of guns that the defenders just threw away.
Do you dare put theory into practice, now of all times?
[ ] [Knights] Rush to the walls and help drive off the Bretonnians until your fleet can bombard them.
[ ] [Knights] Launch an assault on the final defense, breaking them now to gain access to the riches within.
[ ] [Knights] Head to the walls and consult with Flammel to augment her forces.
- I suppose it's only fitting that the Quartermaster's quest get this exciting, considering she was your very first companion after all.
- Also lots of goody experience for improving Carolina's skills. Nice.
- The Lore of Alchemy actually existed in Warhammer Fantasy 1st Edition. Then it was folded into the Lore of Metal afterwards. But if it's old lore, it's free real estate....
14 hour moratorium to consider a siege within a siege.
[ ] [Knights] Head to the walls and consult with Flammel to augment her forces.
If I understand correctly this is option "let Verena take the wheel" and specifically we try to give Flammel's horde guns and skills to use them.
I'm tempted to try.
"I've no qualm with them. My qualm is with that of those within the settlement ahead, so I've no reason to kill random peasants," Flammel elaborated in an off-handed manner that matched the way she examined her nails.
He had a point. You gritted your teeth, not sure what to do now. It looked like Flammel's selfish delayed had definitely cost both you and her, what with a complement of local knights likely coming with a small army to break the undead siege.
Dawn broke and rose. Rations consisting of dried squid and dry hardtack were broken out for a miserable breakfast. The sun continued to climb high into the air. Medb and Thankit disappeared to go foraging while Pierre decided to practice his forms while waiting. You took to counting your ammunition again and again, making sure you had enough for the upcoming infiltration. The sun began to descend.
I see we still have leftover squid from ... *checks* huh, only two turns ago. Guess our crew is probably going to be avoiding squid for while if they can help it.
You observed her with a wary eye, not sure what to make of her casual attitude to all this. Does she actually have a set of morals? Or is it just pure arrogance that they are barely worth her attention? You suspected that she likely didn't ask for permission beforehand to use the bodies, yet she wasn't interested in adding more to them with 'regular' methods of slaughtering the living too. Complicating her character analysis even more was the new addition of a fine short cloak to her attire, one that she certainly wasn't wearing the night before.
Flammel noticed the attention on her and shyly tugged at her new accessory like what a very naive Lahmian imitator would. "Do you think this fits my cute figure? I made it just now, I hope you weren't waiting long."
Flammel's Mind: "I've only just woke up two months ago and I have no clue what the hells I'm doing. Do I need be more sexy or cute? Should I be spending more time on my apparel or bodily appearance? Oh gods, Carolina is a a lot more experienced, she's doing this effortlessly. Clearly she must be one of the best Lahmians out there!"
But only a single street later and you immediately drew up short all of the sudden, staring above. Medb crashed into your back and let out a loud curse, clutching at her nose. "Admiral! What in Vaul's name-?!"
"Medb. Take a real look up there," You ordered in a dry tone. "A real good look, because I need you to confirm that I'm not hallucinating."
Thankit and Pierre stopped confusedly while your Quartermaster grumbled but obliged. A moment later, the sound of flesh smacking flesh echoed through the street. "I see it. Those idiots."
"What's going on?" The knight asked blankly and you gestured with a long suffering sigh.
"Those idiots haven't secured their powder. It's actually laying about, like Octavia after a bar crawl."
"Oh." A long pause. "What does that mean?"
"Means they foolish-stupid," Thankit helpfully supplied. You rolled your eyes and gave a better answer, one filled with a new idea.
... Well I suppose if they were so nice to give us an opening, it's only polite to accept the offer.
Also, this is second time Medb and Thankit are around for a gunpowder storage crit. I feel like if we get a third instance , we should start getting pennies for this occurring.
You supposed that was technically true, though you weren't interested in their lives. Just that pouch of gold that you casually swept into your pocket when you passed by.
"Aye Admiral, and that just now was something I've only heard mentioned in passing between my teachers of the Weave," Medb quietly informed in a hushed voice. "The golden wind, bound and shackled to corruptive Dhar. A dark lore thought extinct, the forgotten brother to the Lore of Metal.
"The Lore of Alchemy."
"Whatever it is, I want it." You licked your lips greedily, then turned your attention finally to the shouting and panicking cannon crew. "And I'll get it from her one way or another. Through debt or blood if need be."
Was this a message? You tried to think on why, considering the situation with every bit of knowledge you had. Anything to make sense of this possible and unexpected detail.
A horde of zombies.
A fortress wall.
A genius of forgotten magic.
A corrupt local lord.
A case of overdue justice.
A load of guns that the defenders just threw away.
Do you dare put theory into practice, now of all times?
Sure, it'll happen but only if working out the spell ends up bad. Like miscast bad. You will be making multiple attempts until you figure it out, or something explodes. Hopefully not you.
