always_confused
Perpetually unwanted
- Location
- SEA
Does anyone have a link to the winning plan? I only just now realized we're still on the results phase of turn 2 and I don't even know what the voted plan was. 
From a Dead World (Skaven Quest)
- Thread starter Xantalos
- Start date
- Fantasy
- Pronouns
- He/Him
https://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/posts/7851352/Does anyone have a link to the winning plan? I only just now realized we're still on the results phase of turn 2 and I don't even know what the voted plan was.
End Times 2 Results - The Navy Part 1 - Shenanigans
Xantalos
Turtle-Speed Writing
Somewhere in the ocean
The ironclad warship Scurvy Clam chugged along in the choppy waters it sailed through. Formerly the feared dawi zharr slaver ship Chains of Contempt, the vessel now sailed under the deft hand of the head of the Navy itself, Vrisk Ironscratch, as it prepared to -
"That's Admiral Cap'n Vrisk Ironscratch to ye, and I'll thank-shank ye to remember that!"
The unfortunate crewmember cried out in pain and fell over as Vrisk stabbed him in the knee with a sharpened toothbrush. The piratical skaven casually walked on top of his sprawled-out form, eliciting a twitch of pain whenever his whalebone peg leg's sharp metal point dug into his back. "I'm sure-sure ye all be wondering where exactly you all are," he exclaimed from atop his makeshift perch to the crowd of Navy recruits standing close by.
They were within the soot-stained metal halls of the Clam, huddled inside a relatively spacious room that had used to be the ship's slave hold, but now contained various piles of loot that had taken the captain's interest, such as -
"Ah yes, good-excellent to know, I'm suretain you agree," Vrisk continued, though he hadn't actually said anything. He grinned as the red sulphorous lights of the ship shone dimly over the length of scarred muzzle poking out from under his magnificent tricorn hat. "We've all been waiting far-far too long for me to be here-now, so let's not tarry-wait any longer, savvy?"
The crowd of recruits muttered confusedly amongst themselves; hadn't the captain been waiting for them? Their speculation was interrupted by a clang as Vrisk rapped the hook attached to the end of his tail against the metal floor. "You lubber-lubbers are here for one specific-pinpoint reason! One vital, important, really big-big reason!" The Cap'n exclaimed. "A reason for which the entire-whole Under-Empire may owe-owe us for!"
There was a pause.
"What-what was it again?"
The crowd of sea rats muttered to each other, none really knowing what the cap'n was saying. He'd called them there without any preamble after spontaneously deciding not to pick up the trained commandos that were meant to form the backbone of the -
"You mean-mean you lot aren't the meanest, leanest, keenest, cleanest, greenest, most-most grizzled salty sneaky rats the world's ever seen-seen?" Vrisk's expression could, in a charitable sense, be described as plaintive.
After an awkward pause, a lone voice arose from the crowd. "No, Cap'n, we just work-work on the ship. You said the recruits the Underlord told-ordered you to pick up weren't good-skilled enough so we were going to a better recruitment ground."
The Cap'n scratched his chin, lost in thought. "Hmm. Well-well, clearly the imposter has subverted my plans yet again. I'll snatch-catch that dashing rascal someday, but right now-now I need-need Murines and I don't have the pre-trained kind." His gaze lit up as it fell on the crowd of nervously confused crewmembers in front of him. "What-what are you all doing here? Trick-trick question, don't answer, you've just been volunteered! First training exercise, get back on the ship, try-try not to die-die!"
Before any of them could question what he meant by that, Vrisk pulled down a lever to his left and the floor beneath their feet fell away, sending them thrashing down into the water below, which began to rapidly flow into the room. Vrisk cackled as he sauntered out of the room and sealed the door behind him. He'd be able to pump out the water later so the ship wouldn't sink. Probably.
Few survived that initial trial - by the Cap'n's orders, the remaining crew did their best to fight off the impromptu boarders, and did a fairly good job of it, killing most of them as they were exhaustedly clambering up the ironclad's sides. Vrisk then took those few who survived and refined what skills they had displayed, showing them how to swim and fight aboard a ship, how to stealthily sneak out of water and move silently through it. They improved by leaps and bounds under his tuition, though he was always somehow a faster swimmer or a better swordsrat, despite his flashy, impractical fighting style and his missing limb. His appearance was always impeccably rugged, his movements timed to such an exacting degree that they seemed almost choreographed. Odder still, his eccentric personality seemed to be infectious, spreading slowly into his eclectic collection of trainees over the course of their excersises. They raided ork ships, and from the spoils aquired hats. Unfortunate fishing boats netted them hooks and an inexplicable accent. They raided seaside towns all over the world (those not being ransacked by Norscans at this point, anyhow) and grew more and more skilled and coordinated. They could seize a seaside keep in a day with twenty Murines, and break into a situationally appropriate song and dance routine on cue. Foes fell to them from a knife to the jugular as often as they did to a telegraphed cutlass swing.
By the time they returned to their naval base among the Fools Point rocks outside of Tobaro, they were sensible enough not to wonder where the thousands of other Murines waiting for them had come from.
Stealth was conducted at night. Not due to any rule or anything, but just a collection of simple facts. Most beings had a harder time seeing at night, and most tended to sleep when the sun hid its face. These two facts made it easier to sneak around compared to in the daylight for even a human, let alone a skaven, who naturally had better night vision than most surface races. So it would logically follow that any large-scale theft conducted by a large group of skaven would happen at night, especially if the operation were to be, say, stealing all the ships in the Estalian navy. Anyone could agree that taking that minor precaution would be sensible.
Everyone but Vrisk Ironscratch, that is.
It was a bright summer's day in Bilbali when the Cap'n brazenly strolled up the docking plank of the warship Hawk's Dive, wearing thick bulky clothing to conceal his fur, stuffed boots to increase his height, and a skinned human face over his snout to cover his skaven face. He'd intimidate the skeleton crew currently manning the ship off using his outlandish charm, then make as if he were to flee. When the Estalians pursued him, expecting merely a dashing pirate, he'd counterboard their ship with a few of his Murines he'd hidden in the cargo the night before, and leave the hapless boarding party to be disposed of by the Murines left aboard the Hawk! Truly, it was a flawless plan that could only have come from a mastermind like himself.
It went smoothly all through his approach. He sauntered up onto the ship itself, mostly indistinguishable from a human from a distance, and swaggered over to what appeared to be the captain judging by the hat, who was standing near a few other sailors discussing something nautical. He unsheathed his cutlass with a satisfying shhhing, waved it in the air to catch the sunlight, and bellowed in a cheery voice, "Stay calm-calm, fellow humans, I am commandeering this ship-ship! Avast!"
He was somewhat disappointed when the sailors, instead of retorting something equally witty or perhaps a bold denial, they gagged at the sight of him and staggered backwards in disgust. One of them caught enough of his breath to cry, "W-what the fuck is wrong with your face?!" Vrisk pawed at his human mask to find that it had slipped at some point, sagging partway down his snout, presenting a drooping abomination instead of a reasonable fascimile of a human.
Not stopping to acknowledge that they'd likely have seen through his disguise nontheless, Vrisk pawed the mask off and threw it at them in irritation, squeaking,"Damn it all, why-why do none of you manthings have any sense-smell of the dramatic? It's like I have to do everything myself," he complained as he stabbed the captain in the gut, sour at his marvellous ploy being foiled by logic's stubborn grip.
By now the cry of skaven was going up around the ship, and Vrisk snorted in annoyance as he ripped his sword out of the captain's stomach and took his hat, effortlessly fending off his subordinates. "Myrmidia warned us of this, monster," one cried as he performed a riposte. "Estalia stands united against your foul race, and we will excise the canker that is your existence!" He started to say something else, but was cut off - literally - as Vrisk took his compatriot's sword from his hands with his tail hook and stabbed him in the throat with it, then whirled about and beheaded the other. "Good-good effort, I suppose," he pouted as he took a stick of stolen explosives from his belt and lit the fuse, "But the moment's ruined, destroyed, kill-killed. No use but to start over." He threw the hissing explosive up into the air, where it detonated with a sharp crack.
That was the signal for the hidden caches of Murines that huddled within the cargo of every ship in the harbor to surge up in a synchronized tide of violence. Hundreds of them vaulted over the sides of decks, cutting throats and grabbing nearby objects to bash unsuspecting crewmembers into the water. Anchors were swiftly hauled up and docking ropes cut, and soon the sum total of Bilbali's fleet was sailing away. Murines that had stayed behind delayed any response significantly by playing havoc with the seaside fortifications, turning the harbor gates and plentiful fruit carts against squads of soldiers. They'd eventually be cornered and cut down, but they would die with a sea shanty on their lips and rum in their hands.
Vrisk's first mate, a boisterous rat named Federat, walked cautiously up to the Cap'n, who was staring motionlessly out to sea, once they'd reached open ocean. "We've left the fool-fool Estalians behind, Admiral Cap'n," he reported, placing his hat over his heart. When Vrisk didn't reply, he ventured a little further. "I went and had the lads make-make up a new song if you wanted to hear-hear. To lift your mood-mood?"
Vrisk's neck turned around dangerously far with a crick, revealing an earsplitting grin on his face. "Any more lifting and it'd reach the moon-moon, sonny boy!" He exclaimed. "I've just been think-pondering on the failure-reveal of my disguise and I figured out why the manthings were able to pierce-pierce my shroud of deceit."
"Why-why was that, Admiral Cap'n sir?"
"I wasn't wearing pants!"
The ironclad warship Scurvy Clam chugged along in the choppy waters it sailed through. Formerly the feared dawi zharr slaver ship Chains of Contempt, the vessel now sailed under the deft hand of the head of the Navy itself, Vrisk Ironscratch, as it prepared to -
"That's Admiral Cap'n Vrisk Ironscratch to ye, and I'll thank-shank ye to remember that!"
The unfortunate crewmember cried out in pain and fell over as Vrisk stabbed him in the knee with a sharpened toothbrush. The piratical skaven casually walked on top of his sprawled-out form, eliciting a twitch of pain whenever his whalebone peg leg's sharp metal point dug into his back. "I'm sure-sure ye all be wondering where exactly you all are," he exclaimed from atop his makeshift perch to the crowd of Navy recruits standing close by.
They were within the soot-stained metal halls of the Clam, huddled inside a relatively spacious room that had used to be the ship's slave hold, but now contained various piles of loot that had taken the captain's interest, such as -
"Ah yes, good-excellent to know, I'm suretain you agree," Vrisk continued, though he hadn't actually said anything. He grinned as the red sulphorous lights of the ship shone dimly over the length of scarred muzzle poking out from under his magnificent tricorn hat. "We've all been waiting far-far too long for me to be here-now, so let's not tarry-wait any longer, savvy?"
The crowd of recruits muttered confusedly amongst themselves; hadn't the captain been waiting for them? Their speculation was interrupted by a clang as Vrisk rapped the hook attached to the end of his tail against the metal floor. "You lubber-lubbers are here for one specific-pinpoint reason! One vital, important, really big-big reason!" The Cap'n exclaimed. "A reason for which the entire-whole Under-Empire may owe-owe us for!"
There was a pause.
"What-what was it again?"
The crowd of sea rats muttered to each other, none really knowing what the cap'n was saying. He'd called them there without any preamble after spontaneously deciding not to pick up the trained commandos that were meant to form the backbone of the -
"You mean-mean you lot aren't the meanest, leanest, keenest, cleanest, greenest, most-most grizzled salty sneaky rats the world's ever seen-seen?" Vrisk's expression could, in a charitable sense, be described as plaintive.
After an awkward pause, a lone voice arose from the crowd. "No, Cap'n, we just work-work on the ship. You said the recruits the Underlord told-ordered you to pick up weren't good-skilled enough so we were going to a better recruitment ground."
The Cap'n scratched his chin, lost in thought. "Hmm. Well-well, clearly the imposter has subverted my plans yet again. I'll snatch-catch that dashing rascal someday, but right now-now I need-need Murines and I don't have the pre-trained kind." His gaze lit up as it fell on the crowd of nervously confused crewmembers in front of him. "What-what are you all doing here? Trick-trick question, don't answer, you've just been volunteered! First training exercise, get back on the ship, try-try not to die-die!"
Before any of them could question what he meant by that, Vrisk pulled down a lever to his left and the floor beneath their feet fell away, sending them thrashing down into the water below, which began to rapidly flow into the room. Vrisk cackled as he sauntered out of the room and sealed the door behind him. He'd be able to pump out the water later so the ship wouldn't sink. Probably.
---
Few survived that initial trial - by the Cap'n's orders, the remaining crew did their best to fight off the impromptu boarders, and did a fairly good job of it, killing most of them as they were exhaustedly clambering up the ironclad's sides. Vrisk then took those few who survived and refined what skills they had displayed, showing them how to swim and fight aboard a ship, how to stealthily sneak out of water and move silently through it. They improved by leaps and bounds under his tuition, though he was always somehow a faster swimmer or a better swordsrat, despite his flashy, impractical fighting style and his missing limb. His appearance was always impeccably rugged, his movements timed to such an exacting degree that they seemed almost choreographed. Odder still, his eccentric personality seemed to be infectious, spreading slowly into his eclectic collection of trainees over the course of their excersises. They raided ork ships, and from the spoils aquired hats. Unfortunate fishing boats netted them hooks and an inexplicable accent. They raided seaside towns all over the world (those not being ransacked by Norscans at this point, anyhow) and grew more and more skilled and coordinated. They could seize a seaside keep in a day with twenty Murines, and break into a situationally appropriate song and dance routine on cue. Foes fell to them from a knife to the jugular as often as they did to a telegraphed cutlass swing.
By the time they returned to their naval base among the Fools Point rocks outside of Tobaro, they were sensible enough not to wonder where the thousands of other Murines waiting for them had come from.
---
Stealth was conducted at night. Not due to any rule or anything, but just a collection of simple facts. Most beings had a harder time seeing at night, and most tended to sleep when the sun hid its face. These two facts made it easier to sneak around compared to in the daylight for even a human, let alone a skaven, who naturally had better night vision than most surface races. So it would logically follow that any large-scale theft conducted by a large group of skaven would happen at night, especially if the operation were to be, say, stealing all the ships in the Estalian navy. Anyone could agree that taking that minor precaution would be sensible.
Everyone but Vrisk Ironscratch, that is.
It was a bright summer's day in Bilbali when the Cap'n brazenly strolled up the docking plank of the warship Hawk's Dive, wearing thick bulky clothing to conceal his fur, stuffed boots to increase his height, and a skinned human face over his snout to cover his skaven face. He'd intimidate the skeleton crew currently manning the ship off using his outlandish charm, then make as if he were to flee. When the Estalians pursued him, expecting merely a dashing pirate, he'd counterboard their ship with a few of his Murines he'd hidden in the cargo the night before, and leave the hapless boarding party to be disposed of by the Murines left aboard the Hawk! Truly, it was a flawless plan that could only have come from a mastermind like himself.
It went smoothly all through his approach. He sauntered up onto the ship itself, mostly indistinguishable from a human from a distance, and swaggered over to what appeared to be the captain judging by the hat, who was standing near a few other sailors discussing something nautical. He unsheathed his cutlass with a satisfying shhhing, waved it in the air to catch the sunlight, and bellowed in a cheery voice, "Stay calm-calm, fellow humans, I am commandeering this ship-ship! Avast!"
He was somewhat disappointed when the sailors, instead of retorting something equally witty or perhaps a bold denial, they gagged at the sight of him and staggered backwards in disgust. One of them caught enough of his breath to cry, "W-what the fuck is wrong with your face?!" Vrisk pawed at his human mask to find that it had slipped at some point, sagging partway down his snout, presenting a drooping abomination instead of a reasonable fascimile of a human.
Not stopping to acknowledge that they'd likely have seen through his disguise nontheless, Vrisk pawed the mask off and threw it at them in irritation, squeaking,"Damn it all, why-why do none of you manthings have any sense-smell of the dramatic? It's like I have to do everything myself," he complained as he stabbed the captain in the gut, sour at his marvellous ploy being foiled by logic's stubborn grip.
By now the cry of skaven was going up around the ship, and Vrisk snorted in annoyance as he ripped his sword out of the captain's stomach and took his hat, effortlessly fending off his subordinates. "Myrmidia warned us of this, monster," one cried as he performed a riposte. "Estalia stands united against your foul race, and we will excise the canker that is your existence!" He started to say something else, but was cut off - literally - as Vrisk took his compatriot's sword from his hands with his tail hook and stabbed him in the throat with it, then whirled about and beheaded the other. "Good-good effort, I suppose," he pouted as he took a stick of stolen explosives from his belt and lit the fuse, "But the moment's ruined, destroyed, kill-killed. No use but to start over." He threw the hissing explosive up into the air, where it detonated with a sharp crack.
That was the signal for the hidden caches of Murines that huddled within the cargo of every ship in the harbor to surge up in a synchronized tide of violence. Hundreds of them vaulted over the sides of decks, cutting throats and grabbing nearby objects to bash unsuspecting crewmembers into the water. Anchors were swiftly hauled up and docking ropes cut, and soon the sum total of Bilbali's fleet was sailing away. Murines that had stayed behind delayed any response significantly by playing havoc with the seaside fortifications, turning the harbor gates and plentiful fruit carts against squads of soldiers. They'd eventually be cornered and cut down, but they would die with a sea shanty on their lips and rum in their hands.
Vrisk's first mate, a boisterous rat named Federat, walked cautiously up to the Cap'n, who was staring motionlessly out to sea, once they'd reached open ocean. "We've left the fool-fool Estalians behind, Admiral Cap'n," he reported, placing his hat over his heart. When Vrisk didn't reply, he ventured a little further. "I went and had the lads make-make up a new song if you wanted to hear-hear. To lift your mood-mood?"
Vrisk's neck turned around dangerously far with a crick, revealing an earsplitting grin on his face. "Any more lifting and it'd reach the moon-moon, sonny boy!" He exclaimed. "I've just been think-pondering on the failure-reveal of my disguise and I figured out why the manthings were able to pierce-pierce my shroud of deceit."
"Why-why was that, Admiral Cap'n sir?"
"I wasn't wearing pants!"
Chimeraguard
We do deserve to exist.
Very nice. What did we get from the Estalian ships themselves?
Xantalos
Turtle-Speed Writing
A bunch of ships!
Anything you get from that'll be covered in the next scene.
Oh, I forgot to add in Federat to the hero list. I'll do that now.
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Kairos123
Insomniac Extraordinaire
Is this correct?
Instead of similar words, he uses the same twice. Is that a quirk of his speaking habits? It's throwing me off.
Xantalos
Turtle-Speed Writing
Yeah, Vrisk is lax about proper word structure when he's in the heat of the moment.
I've noticed that skaven tend to vary between using the same word twice or using two similar words in their speech irregularities. It's typically with multisyllabic words that they use two similar ones more often, and monosyllabic words are more apt to get the repeat treatment, ie fool-fool.
In this case it was just me finding the sorta rhyming generated by doubling both those words disarming enough to be fitting.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I, um.
Ok. Apparently our admiral is a copy of Deadpool (and NOT just the 4th wall) and Jack Sparrow with the same absurd brand of skill/luck.
Ok. Apparently our admiral is a copy of Deadpool (and NOT just the 4th wall) and Jack Sparrow with the same absurd brand of skill/luck.
theflyingbiscuit
"Titanic neechan"
He was our number two choice for Arch-rat.
Spectrum
Tell me a secret~
- Location
- Behind you~
Does anyone really doubt Skaven are the best after this?
Adorable murder rats~
This is everything I wanted when I wrote that vote.
Xantalos
Turtle-Speed Writing
I admit I'd be lying if I said those two didn't play a hefty role in his development, amidst a bunch of other influences.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
At least I know we've got a capable hand for naval operations, and we WILL need such in the future.
...wonder what would happen if he and Thanquol were put on the same operation.
...wonder what would happen if he and Thanquol were put on the same operation.
Spectrum
Tell me a secret~
- Location
- Behind you~
If anyone had any doubts about Vrisk's fourth wall breaking Warp/Ork-esque psychology fueled bullshit.
Professor Vesca
Good News Everyone!
King Arthur
The Once and Future King
I love our Navy. It's the best.
Clearly the best part of our empire.
Clearly the best part of our empire.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Heheheh.
always_confused
Perpetually unwanted
- Location
- SEA
Is Vrisk the greatest Admiral in the old world? Yes/Yes
Okibruez
(Verified Mid-Boss)
- Location
- Dreams
Despite the adorable, insane, and probably highly drunken shenanigans, the ratfolk will always fall 3rd to me. #1 will always be lizardmen, and #2 orcs.
Aztec reptiles that ride dinosaurs are pretty hard to top. Especially when the only reason they haven't permanently won everything is the serious 'Orcus on His Throne' they've got going on due to Author Fiat.
And Orcs is second best because they're the biggest, the meanest, the toughest, and the greenest. And there's something charming in that honesty.
But I hate elves. Far to elitist to ever appeal.
Xilentxium
Existential Crisis Management
- Location
- Temperate Regions
Sigmar above, Jack "Deadpool" Flynn is our Admirals?!
Awesome
Awesome
Xantalos
Turtle-Speed Writing
This has nothing to do with anything whatsoever, but @King Arthur, could you roll a 1d100 for me?
Cecylene
Eternal Idea Engine
- Location
- Massachusetts
- Pronouns
- He/They
I rate this as "Insightful" in the same vein as one would rate Bloodborne "insightful".
Dragonjackel
GOLDEN Judgement
- Location
- Gregory House
Not the first pirate related character I've seen with Vrisk in their first name. Also a very amusing update, he's everything I'd want from a skaven Admiral.
Xantalos
Turtle-Speed Writing
Huh, really? That's interesting, given I poached his name from a canon list of the Council.
King Arthur
The Once and Future King
Yes, I have no reason not to.