From a Dead World (Skaven Quest)
- Thread starter Xantalos
- Start date
- Fantasy
Spectrum
Tell me a secret~
- Location
- Behind you~
Which means it'll be my role as usual to be the Debbie Downer and remark that we just had problems dealing with Myrmidia and we're still waiting to see how bad the Plain of Bone is going to be. The Chaos Waste, Ulthuan, etc are all very long term projects (if we can even successfully deal with them in time/ever).
(The Skaven would have had a legitimate shot at being successful if, well, they weren't the Skaven. That's part of their charm, but we should be thinking out how best to channel their Skaven-ness in productive ways...)
(The Skaven would have had a legitimate shot at being successful if, well, they weren't the Skaven. That's part of their charm, but we should be thinking out how best to channel their Skaven-ness in productive ways...)
- Location
- A pile of cheese
Fezzes
Knight of King Stannis Baratheon
- Location
- Sydney, Australia
Whenever this quest actually finishes
The year is 2076. SVers the world over are scrambling for a solution to maintain Xantalos' mind so he can give us Turn 27 of From a Dead World. His home has already been attacked twice by rogue elements seeking to store his brain in a jar with an arm and a keyboard. They were fended off by on-site posters but another attack is expected soon. Meanwhile, EVA's scheme to recreate the Fountain of Youth, destroyed in the Third Contact War with displaced skaven, has been progressing steadily. The latest report claims a solution will become viable by 2079, to be officially rolled out on Christmas.
- Location
- France
The solution has been provisionally called "Half-Life 3"
Delays may occur
Xantalos
Turtle-Speed Writing
Two answers here: on a personal level, without a doubt the Infurnal Legion, since they're converted chaos dwarfs that retain quite a bit of their former nature. On an industrial scale, Skyre. Not so much in the armor sense, which they really only have when the higher-ups make it for themselves like Ikit Claw has, but their weapon production is unequalled by pretty much anyone in the empire. There's a reason Morskittar feels such a sense of ownership over the Army, aside from being hugely egotistical - he's their primary weapons supplier.
But as for actual blacksmiths, almost certainly the Legion.
I think the thing I love the most about this is that it implies that either my updates became so elaborate that they somehow harmonically resonated with Mallus to such an extent that they summoned the skaven to our dimension, or that I somehow managed to get a portal opened there by other means in order to get inspiration at a better rate or something.
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
Look, when Thanqol wants a new scribe to write his great and glorious deeds, wants to cut the legs out from under the Lizard-things who have a head start in 40k, and has been given a glimpse of the true architects of the gods?
Him deciding to get a very expensive new man-thing slave just makes sense. Better than that last one who tried to sacrifice him in a ritual.
Xantalos
Turtle-Speed Writing
Hey, I wouldn't really argue. If I were Thanquol's personal scribe I'd be in a pretty much untouchable position in skaven society if I ingratiated myself to him correctly, and with that influence I could probably get my hands on a fair number of magical artifacts and the like to protect myself as part of 'research' or something. Couple that with my knowledge about the warhammer universe in general, and that wouldn't make for a half-bad self-insert story.
...
Which I will put on the backburner until I have the slot open to write it successfully.
- Location
- A pile of cheese
What is your maximum number of slots?
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
Bad news, I just gave the Skaven someone extremely competent. Good news, said someone takes about as long to finish a project as GW takes to Advance The Timeline.
- Location
- Germany
Or Thanquol has a bad trip, kills you in a burst of uncontrolled magic and that's it.
Risk of working with Wizards, madmen and Skaven especially all in one person.
Xantalos
Turtle-Speed Writing
Not honestly sure. I could take on any number of projects, but each one would slow the collective update pace of the rest.
"How long-far until my autobiography is done-finished, scribeslave?"Bad news, I just gave the Skaven someone extremely competent. Good news, said someone takes about as long to finish a project as GW takes to Advance The Timeline.
"Another four generations and I'll have finished chapter 2, illustriously gleaming Thanquol. You can wait that long, right?"
Very true, my first move once I had the capability would be to commission a ridiculous number of cyborg Boneripper expies to take any mortal blows for me.
But truthfully so long as I managed to survive past a year or so I'd have a fair shot of living through it ... maybe. Depending on how much plot-granted affinity with magic I'd have that I could use to abuse necromancy or something so I couldn't be killed so easily. If I'm just a standard humie, then things get a lot more dicey when I inevitably resort to sorcery of various sorts in order to get the capabilities I need.
BungieONI
Seven gremlins in a trench coat
- Location
- Lickwidget
- Pronouns
- She/Her
But given this is Warhammer and everything is MEEEMEEEEEEEEEESS you are in the amazing position of having recursive self knowledge about what your presence on Mallus truly entails.
Whether this recursive self knowledge is actually any help is totally up for grabs though.
- Location
- USA
I'm trying to think of my own self insert idea. However it seems to generic to be another machine person lol. Planetary annihilation is good, just been done to death.
Primary idea I'd had was playing as a displaced soul in a big bad either in their setting or when they themselves are displaced to somewhere else. Sauron or Ganondorf being my primary choices.
What are your thoughts illustriouz author on planetary annihilation self inserts? And any thoughts on my idea?
Primary idea I'd had was playing as a displaced soul in a big bad either in their setting or when they themselves are displaced to somewhere else. Sauron or Ganondorf being my primary choices.
What are your thoughts illustriouz author on planetary annihilation self inserts? And any thoughts on my idea?
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always_confused
Perpetually unwanted
- Location
- SEA
I think you might have the wrong thread, friend!
- Location
- USA
Eh just figured I'd bring it up considering the authors own musings on self insert. If it's geuinely viewed as off topic I'll delete or edit it to be on topic cx.
Xantalos
Turtle-Speed Writing
Eh, so long as it doesn't go on so long it takes over the thread I'm fine with indulging a tangent or two, especially if I accidentally started it myself. I mean heck, I'm pretty sure it was here or in Respect Your Elders that I ended up in a short dissertation about MLP of all things. So I'll answer the question, but we should probably take it to a PM if you wanna keep it going from there.
I like the idea of planetary annihilation inserts in concept, but in practice they just don't really give enough room to actually engage in the plot of whatever universe they go to, at least not without doing a big disservice to their armybuilding capabilities. It's a hard thing to balance, because self-inserts are supposed to be a character-building exercise to see how (your estimate of) your own character develops when suddenly put in the unfamiliar environment of whatever universe you get put into. So those sorts of stories work best when looking through your insert's eyes, seeing how their interactions with other characters change them rather than involving them in big events all the time. This kinda clashes hard against PA!insert's focus on crushing Universe Whatever with robot armies, which doesn't give much opportunity for natural-feeling character interaction. It's why I'm not really too into OP protagonist stories, because then the character's power overshadows and substitutes for interaction and development.
As for your idea, I honestly can't say. Self-insert is a really broad topic due to the sheer variety of settings you could theoretically be transplanted to, so it'd vary heavily on what setting you planned on using, and what plot you wanted to construct.
Fezzes
Knight of King Stannis Baratheon
- Location
- Sydney, Australia
I remember that. Ah, good times. I think someone brought up a certain Pony who had something to do with moons and asked if they could've stopped Morrslieb crashing into Mundus, then you gave a quick, well-reasoned lecture on that pony's limits and the nature of Morrslieb. It was one of the most bizarre things I'd seen in a while. Just one of the reasons you're my favourite QM.
Fezzes
Knight of King Stannis Baratheon
- Location
- Sydney, Australia
Before the inevitable asswhipping Thanquol is about to dish out is revealed, I'd just like to take a moment to revisit one of my favourite moments in the quest so far.
It was just such a quietly exquisite moment, I adore it.
No real bigger point this is leading to. I just really enjoyed Thanquol telling Morskittar point-blank to shut up.
Thanquol said:
It was just such a quietly exquisite moment, I adore it.
No real bigger point this is leading to. I just really enjoyed Thanquol telling Morskittar point-blank to shut up.
Xantalos
Turtle-Speed Writing
Speaking of which, it should be done SoonTM!
Yes, I can't keep deadline promises but it's actually almost done - only reason I haven't completed it already is that I've been writing a separate short story for a friend's birthday. Once that passes it shouldn't be too long coming.
Yes, I can't keep deadline promises but it's actually almost done - only reason I haven't completed it already is that I've been writing a separate short story for a friend's birthday. Once that passes it shouldn't be too long coming.
End Times 2 Results - Lord Duel - Ruler's Rebuke
Xantalos
Turtle-Speed Writing
[X] Boneripper rips the Necromancer Lord sapping his life off and throws him at 1 to minimize the time he's exposed to its effects, then goes for Necromancer Lord 3 with a Warpfire blast, then heads for 1. Thanquol casts Death Frenzy on Boneripper if Necromancer Lord 1 evades his grasp.
-[X] Thanquol makes as if to run-only partially true-so as to distract 3 from Boneripper's Warpfire and get out of the Ash Storm. He takes opportunities as they come-or as needed- to hit 3 and 1 with Burning Wrath.
Three out of Boneripper's four usable limbs were either disabled or severed. This both drastically narrowed his chances of surviving the battle and dramatically improved his decision-making process, since there was only so much that could be done with a single ridiculously strong arm.
He reached down to his withered feet and grasped the lich draining its vitality by the torso, steely claws easily encircling the entire ribcage of the necromancer. Then, in an immense feat of strength that produced a number of sickening cracks as the creature's ribs snapped under the pressure, he flung the necromancer in his grip at the one behind him, skeletal limbs flailing every which way.
The violet blade of the death magic scythe the mounted lich wielded bisected its compatriot with the quietest of whispers. The unfortunate necromancer's legs hit the ground on one side, his torso the other, and it was a matter of seconds before the scythe sheared through both a good portion of Boneripper's raised arm and his neck, sending the cyborg rat-ogre down into the dirt as well.
Thanquol, who had seen the entire exchange take place within the span of ten heartbeats, reacted accordingly as the third lich lord stalked towards him, frosty aura intensifying. "No," he squeaked with fury born of newly-found fear. "No-no-no, no! Boneripper, get up and fight-kill!" He shrieked, and wove a spell that was familiar to any Grey Seer in a bind - an enchantment that seized the nervous system of a skaven and sent them into suicidal fury. The Death Frenzy.
Boneripper's head was severed, his limbs were useless or gone, and his life force was fading fast. He needed none of these to feel the incalculable anger that Thanquol's spell bestowed upon him. His muscles seized for lack of a target to attack, his organs churned, and his various pistons and generators whined as they spun up to unsafe levels. He no longer had any method for perceiving which enemies were and were not close to him, so he would employ the only method of attack available to him guaranteed to hurt something, no matter what it was.
With a rising whine reminiscent of an oversized steam kettle, Boneripper overloaded his warpstone generator and exploded in a ball of verdant fire. This infusion of warpflame proved to be the catalyst the increasingly unstable Ash Storm needed to ignite the pool of dhar cast over the battlefield, and everything promptly became much hotter as the whirling ash sublimated into a localized firestorm.
Thanquol, having already begun to run from the necromancers once their attention turned more fully to him, was caught in the back by an expanding shockwave of superheated air that carried him bodily out of the storm, momentarily enveloping him in a cloak of fire as the fur on his back caught alight. To an outside observer he would have looked quite formidable, a glowing-eyed sorcerer with vestments of flame riding the edge of the storm to safety as his foes perished messily. This illusion was brief, ending when he clumsily hit the dirt snout-first, and frantically scrabbled about on his back in an attempt to quench the flames.
The firestorm parted, a lone figure emerging from the swirling pyroclastic column. Flames raged upon its ancient robes for but an instant before being extinguished by its icy will, and the resulting silhouette cast a vast black shadow before it, the hole in its chest creating a hole in the shroud that lay directly on Thanquol.
Sniveling rodent, the necromancer's voice slithered out of its hood. Your ungainly handling of the elemental calculus disgusts me. It took a step forward and seemed to grow ten feet taller, looming in front of the swirling tree of fire like a child's nightmare, a bogeyman made powerful and evil by the dark it exuded. The light seemed to be sucked into its form and extinguished, and the words that echoed out of its hood like funeral bells were given a booming, sonorous quality.
By mine will and that of the Conclave, end.
And the lich's animus drifted out of its bones, spectral arms shimmering with a soul-shriveling force. It stretched out even further, the world fading away as the ancient will of the necromancer reached for Thanquol to kill his soul. It wrapped shadowy limbs about his essence and its touch eroded the skaven's spirit away. Thanquol curled in on himself in mindless agony and the lich burned in and in until it finally reached far enough and hit something green.
The Underlord's eyes opened, a searing verdant blazing outward until the shadows inverted. Brighter still, until the necromancer's form was illuminated, its shadow cast back upon the fiery cataclysm. Then he stood. With blazing eyes he gazed upon the Necromancer and his attention cut through the cloth of spirit-stuff choking the battlefield between them, hitting the creature in the chest and driving it a step back.
He spoke, and his voice was that of the indisputable tyrant on a throne of terror, standing above legions uncountable, who looked down on the world with sword and scepter in hand.
"This place is mine, bone-thing. You are banished."
He reached out with a hand, and the firestorm behind the lich mirrored his actions, extending out a colossal arm of flame that gripped the creature with claws larger than its torso. The Underlord pulled his hand towards his chest, and with a thin wail the lich was pulled back into the column of fire. As the flames took a green hue, the wail intensified before cutting out.
Thanquol stood and watched the ash storm burn triumphantly, then somewhat woozily as the surge of energy left him. After staying for long enough to ensure that none of the necromancers would come bursting out of the fire, he turned and began the long walk back to the closest thing resembling proper comfort.
Total Damage:
Thanquol - Negligible physical damage. Moderate soul withering inflicted - Thanquol may not battle again until next turn.
Boneripper - Total destruction. Boneripper will be replaced next turn as Mk. 14 Boneripper.
Necromancer Lord 1: Caught in Boneripper's self-destruction and the subsequent firestorm, but otherwise undamaged. Likely survived.
Necromancer Lord 2: Bisected and burned to ash in Thanquol's firestorm. Army control neutralized. Not permanently destroyed.
Necromancer Lord 3: Hole blasted in chest, and destroyed by Thanquol's personal attention. Army control neutralized. Not permanently destroyed.
-[X] Thanquol makes as if to run-only partially true-so as to distract 3 from Boneripper's Warpfire and get out of the Ash Storm. He takes opportunities as they come-or as needed- to hit 3 and 1 with Burning Wrath.
Three out of Boneripper's four usable limbs were either disabled or severed. This both drastically narrowed his chances of surviving the battle and dramatically improved his decision-making process, since there was only so much that could be done with a single ridiculously strong arm.
He reached down to his withered feet and grasped the lich draining its vitality by the torso, steely claws easily encircling the entire ribcage of the necromancer. Then, in an immense feat of strength that produced a number of sickening cracks as the creature's ribs snapped under the pressure, he flung the necromancer in his grip at the one behind him, skeletal limbs flailing every which way.
The violet blade of the death magic scythe the mounted lich wielded bisected its compatriot with the quietest of whispers. The unfortunate necromancer's legs hit the ground on one side, his torso the other, and it was a matter of seconds before the scythe sheared through both a good portion of Boneripper's raised arm and his neck, sending the cyborg rat-ogre down into the dirt as well.
Thanquol, who had seen the entire exchange take place within the span of ten heartbeats, reacted accordingly as the third lich lord stalked towards him, frosty aura intensifying. "No," he squeaked with fury born of newly-found fear. "No-no-no, no! Boneripper, get up and fight-kill!" He shrieked, and wove a spell that was familiar to any Grey Seer in a bind - an enchantment that seized the nervous system of a skaven and sent them into suicidal fury. The Death Frenzy.
Boneripper's head was severed, his limbs were useless or gone, and his life force was fading fast. He needed none of these to feel the incalculable anger that Thanquol's spell bestowed upon him. His muscles seized for lack of a target to attack, his organs churned, and his various pistons and generators whined as they spun up to unsafe levels. He no longer had any method for perceiving which enemies were and were not close to him, so he would employ the only method of attack available to him guaranteed to hurt something, no matter what it was.
With a rising whine reminiscent of an oversized steam kettle, Boneripper overloaded his warpstone generator and exploded in a ball of verdant fire. This infusion of warpflame proved to be the catalyst the increasingly unstable Ash Storm needed to ignite the pool of dhar cast over the battlefield, and everything promptly became much hotter as the whirling ash sublimated into a localized firestorm.
Thanquol, having already begun to run from the necromancers once their attention turned more fully to him, was caught in the back by an expanding shockwave of superheated air that carried him bodily out of the storm, momentarily enveloping him in a cloak of fire as the fur on his back caught alight. To an outside observer he would have looked quite formidable, a glowing-eyed sorcerer with vestments of flame riding the edge of the storm to safety as his foes perished messily. This illusion was brief, ending when he clumsily hit the dirt snout-first, and frantically scrabbled about on his back in an attempt to quench the flames.
The firestorm parted, a lone figure emerging from the swirling pyroclastic column. Flames raged upon its ancient robes for but an instant before being extinguished by its icy will, and the resulting silhouette cast a vast black shadow before it, the hole in its chest creating a hole in the shroud that lay directly on Thanquol.
Sniveling rodent, the necromancer's voice slithered out of its hood. Your ungainly handling of the elemental calculus disgusts me. It took a step forward and seemed to grow ten feet taller, looming in front of the swirling tree of fire like a child's nightmare, a bogeyman made powerful and evil by the dark it exuded. The light seemed to be sucked into its form and extinguished, and the words that echoed out of its hood like funeral bells were given a booming, sonorous quality.
By mine will and that of the Conclave, end.
And the lich's animus drifted out of its bones, spectral arms shimmering with a soul-shriveling force. It stretched out even further, the world fading away as the ancient will of the necromancer reached for Thanquol to kill his soul. It wrapped shadowy limbs about his essence and its touch eroded the skaven's spirit away. Thanquol curled in on himself in mindless agony and the lich burned in and in until it finally reached far enough and hit something green.
The Underlord's eyes opened, a searing verdant blazing outward until the shadows inverted. Brighter still, until the necromancer's form was illuminated, its shadow cast back upon the fiery cataclysm. Then he stood. With blazing eyes he gazed upon the Necromancer and his attention cut through the cloth of spirit-stuff choking the battlefield between them, hitting the creature in the chest and driving it a step back.
He spoke, and his voice was that of the indisputable tyrant on a throne of terror, standing above legions uncountable, who looked down on the world with sword and scepter in hand.
"This place is mine, bone-thing. You are banished."
He reached out with a hand, and the firestorm behind the lich mirrored his actions, extending out a colossal arm of flame that gripped the creature with claws larger than its torso. The Underlord pulled his hand towards his chest, and with a thin wail the lich was pulled back into the column of fire. As the flames took a green hue, the wail intensified before cutting out.
Thanquol stood and watched the ash storm burn triumphantly, then somewhat woozily as the surge of energy left him. After staying for long enough to ensure that none of the necromancers would come bursting out of the fire, he turned and began the long walk back to the closest thing resembling proper comfort.
VICTORY!
Total Damage:
Thanquol - Negligible physical damage. Moderate soul withering inflicted - Thanquol may not battle again until next turn.
Boneripper - Total destruction. Boneripper will be replaced next turn as Mk. 14 Boneripper.
Necromancer Lord 1: Caught in Boneripper's self-destruction and the subsequent firestorm, but otherwise undamaged. Likely survived.
Necromancer Lord 2: Bisected and burned to ash in Thanquol's firestorm. Army control neutralized. Not permanently destroyed.
Necromancer Lord 3: Hole blasted in chest, and destroyed by Thanquol's personal attention. Army control neutralized. Not permanently destroyed.
Xantalos
Turtle-Speed Writing
The number one lesson learned from this is that I need to find more synonyms for green
My thanks as always to the person who betas my stuff, it's vastly better because of it.
Next update will conclude the Bonelands war, and finally end the turn! We did it guys, and it only took ... 1.75 years. So far. Probably 2 by the time I actually complete it.
The total wordcount of the turn is now over 52 thousand words.
Uh.
My thanks as always to the person who betas my stuff, it's vastly better because of it.
Next update will conclude the Bonelands war, and finally end the turn! We did it guys, and it only took ... 1.75 years. So far. Probably 2 by the time I actually complete it.
The total wordcount of the turn is now over 52 thousand words.
Uh.
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- Pronouns
- He/Him
Victory!
- Location
- Anchorage, Alaska
whelp you guys need to feed these guys to the Horned Rat if you want them gone-gone!
other then that I wonder what insanity you guys will come up with that will match that of Dorf fortress levels of madness and suffering.
other then that I wonder what insanity you guys will come up with that will match that of Dorf fortress levels of madness and suffering.