Graf of Sudenberg, a Warhammer CKII quest
- Thread starter Claytonimor
- Start date
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Giving the breeze a quick sniff, a small smile lights the Emira's face as she waves for you to follow her to her private dock.
Claytonimor
WE WILL TAKE JERUSALEM
- Location
- Loudon, TN
Oh, I forgot. Vote'll close...in 12 hours and 29 minutes.
- Location
- Wall Gazing
[X] Giving the breeze a quick sniff, a small smile lights the Emira's face as she waves for you to follow her to her private dock.
Doing happy things with a person, make you associate happiness with that person.
In this case, sailing->happiness, us->sailing, therefore us->happiness.
A good foundation for future marriage.
Doing happy things with a person, make you associate happiness with that person.
In this case, sailing->happiness, us->sailing, therefore us->happiness.
A good foundation for future marriage.
King Arthur
The Once and Future King
[X] Giving the breeze a quick sniff, asmall smile lights the Emira's face as she waves for you to follow her to her private dock.
- Location
- United States
[x] Giving the breeze a quick sniff, a small smile lights the Emira's face as she waves for you to follow her to her private dock.
- Location
- Tarn-Vedra
[X] Giving the breeze a quick sniff, a small smile lights the Emira's face as she waves for you to follow her to her private dock.
- Location
- West Michigan
[X] Giving the breeze a quick sniff, a small smile lights the Emira's face as she waves for you to follow her to her private dock.
Claytonimor
WE WILL TAKE JERUSALEM
- Location
- Loudon, TN
Well, I fell asleep watching Brexit last night, but it should be fairly obvious that "[X] Giving the breeze a quick sniff, a small smile lights the Emira's face as she waves for you to follow her to her private dock." won.
With that in mind, you guy'll have to wait, because it's the Witch Hunter Captain's turn for an updoot.
With that in mind, you guy'll have to wait, because it's the Witch Hunter Captain's turn for an updoot.
Last edited:
Mini-Action 2.4: Wife Ge- Oh God, Giant Fish!
Claytonimor
WE WILL TAKE JERUSALEM
- Location
- Loudon, TN
[X] Giving the breeze a quick sniff, a small smile lights the Emira's face as she waves for you to follow her to her private dock.
Conceding a light bow, you motion for the Emira to lead on- you stand as her guest, after all.
The lady graciously takes your invitation and you- as well as her two guards, a pair of your greatswords, and the Knight-Captain who has yet to kill anyone- take after her, deeper into the complex.
The party- of whom at least one member was rather discontent- soon enough reached a set of stairs embedded into the courtyard grounds set in the north-eastern corner of the courtyard grounds. Leading the way, with her two guards bringing up the rear of the party, the Emira guides you and yours down the winding stairway, the familiar scent of salty sea-breeze picking up as you continued downward.
Shortly enough, you and yours found yourselves in a medium sized underground cavern. Though it certainly couldn't fit any large warships, not even a wargalley, it did have enough space for a pair of fishing vessels, baring a passing resemblance to much-shrunken Wolfships. The forecastle even contained a semi-circle firing deck fit with what appeared to be copies of Elvish Eagle's Claws.
Perhaps they were loaded with harpoons for whaling? You could not tell from where you stood.
The Emira's plan thus revealed, you realized that your fishing skills were perhaps a little rusty.
Still, some time out on the waters would help you get your mind off the rabble rousing your men were no doubt partaking in. Hopefully the merchant quarter of the city would remain standing by the end of the day.
But you digress into topics you'd rather remain at the back of your mind.
The Emira, calling out to men yet out of your sightline, rushed forward, much to the repressed consternation of her guards. No doubt your greatswords would commiserate with them in sympathy during the day voyage. Still, though, the day at least promised to be interesting.
Thusly, as you followed the Emira in her rush to the Pupship, rapidly being overtaken by various members of the crew of the vessel who'd, no doubt, been drinking their way to oblivion as sailors are wont to do, you took the time to glance back at your… uninvited tagalong.
To some extent, what you saw was as expected. Indeed, she was, in fact, muttering to herself in what one would be forgiven to assume was an angry fashion. So too was she vehemently not looking at what soon would be heathen charges of hers. Of course, you did not expect her to be so tightly gripping the hammer sigil hanging from her neck, and nor did you think to see her eyes fully closed, with her head bowed, as she followed the procession.
Still, it would not hurt to allow her her time of prayer.
Thus content, you swiftly make it to the gangplank and march your way up to the deck of the largish fishing vessel.
Upon boarding (and decidedly ignoring the exceedingly careful manner by which the Knight-Captain maneuvered over the gangplank), you notice two things most predominantly.
First, in spite of it's passing resemblance to the wolfships, it was, quite clearly, a vessel for fishing. A pair of cranes sat on the starboard deck, opposite where you walked aboard, which had a smooth, wooden ramp between them with a gradual incline, likely to provide a place to dump the nets. Beyond that, the fore and aftcastles, which you'd conceded a bare familiarity as to the purpose of, were not high enough to properly dissuade boarding, lending the vessel the stability required to haul in larger catches.
Secondly, the Emira had managed to find a tri-corner hat somewhere.
Ignoring that for now, you marched into the forecastle, content to put off the smalltalk until the Emira had finished shouting down complaining sailors and the short adventure was well on its way.
How much of this was the Emira's genuine desire to go fishing and how much was to get you away from the debauchery your men would reveling in, you knew not.
Still, you were mostly left to your own devices as the ship undid the dock ties. Accordingly, you set about looking further into the harpoon launchers. More specifically, why there were so many of them.
Glad you hadn't been given the time to lose your sea-legs, you leave behind the Knight-Captain, who'd taken the chance to properly seat herself and continue prayer- odd, though better than purging those about you- and enter into the enclosed forecastle.
Within, ducking around a few frantic seamen as you entered, a full half-score of the scorpions sat, resting their back half on on semi-circled wooden rails- no doubt to ease the aiming process. Oddly enough (though maybe not, you were only passably knowledgeable with the process for whaling), only the middle four appeared to be loaded as you'd expected- with rope and harpoon. Similarly, these four appeared to be the least heavily anchored of the launchers- no doubt to allow for it to be quickly removed from the hole through which the heavy rope attached to harpoons would be fed- preventing it from being destroyed by the trashing of such a beast. The other six, however, boasted heavy spears as their ammunition- more akin to what you'd expect from a weapon of war than an upgraded fishing ship.
You spent a few minutes more studying the armament before you felt the crew start to calm down. Oh sure, there's still the odd cabin boy running about, and the captain's shouts had long since overtaken the Emira's, but none were so frantic about it now.
Not to mention that one of the Greatswords- you really ought to learn some of their names, you supposed- came in and told you directly that all the fuss of pushing off was over.
And so you found yourself standing atop the aftcastle, admiring the weather and appreciating the relative quiet for once in your life, accompanied by the Emira.
Avoiding the hustle and bustle of the ship, calmed though it may be, you decide to push on to the whole point of your arrival.
"Emira, I'm sure you've grasped it at this point, but I would like to confirm that I will be accepting your proposal."
The small smile that you're sure the Emira has sported since she stepped foot on this vessel wavers, if only for a moment. You give her a few moments before continuing.
"Though, I would like to know is what made you so very desperate that you'd be willing to wed yourself to an 'alwathani'."
The Emira, likely realizing the futility of trying to avoid you on this journey she initiated, simply turns to you, leaning into a particularly upsetting sway, and answers, her eyes sparkling with cautioned interest.
"I imagine the answer is much the same as to why a noble of the Empire would not simply wait for proposals from his people to come, instead settling for a 'heathen'."
So it will be like that, then?
"Perhaps I am simply wanting for womenflesh and could not stand to wait another moment when so succulent an offering was made."
The Emira waves off a sailor, likely bringing a message from the captain, and thrusts back.
"And you could not satisfy yourself with the Hunter, then? Or the many hundreds of beautiful maidens that occupy your realm? Surely there is a supple debutante who could satiate your desires."
She glances, lightly, over to where the Knight-Captain yet still prays, though you think you see one eye gazing upon the pair of you. The Emira then continues.
"No, you came for the same reason as I sought you. There was an opportunity to better your place in this world."
The Emira waves vaguely northward before continuing.
"I know little enough of your Empire- only words filtered through Brettonian tongues- but I know I can be more than a simple factory for soldiers with you. Your enclave is strong enough that I see value in linking myself too it, but far enough that I doubt it would be convenient to you to conquer me and mine, rather unlike my closer 'brothers'."
You give a light nod, as nothing she'd said had been too far outside your expectations. Still, you did have one question.
"Brettonians?"
This time the Emira gave you a simple shrug.
"They still occupy a little rock northeast of here, much like you enclave. Though, they do substitute your fleet with large walls."
You shrug off the implication that, without your wooden wall, your recently-came-into lands would be swept away in an Arabian tide.
You make to respond, but the captain at that point calls out for a quarter-mast and sets the boat into a long, lazy circle. The Emira takes the opportunity and drags you amidship to give aid to the men dropping anchored nets.
You find yourself flanked by your Greatswords shortly enough, both of them having unwrapped their weapons upon the ship dropping speed, who take the chance to also take part.
The Emira, meanwhile, seems to be helping her men launch large, light cages with long ropes tied to brightly-painted and treated wood attached to them. Some sort of botton-feeder, you suppose, must be the target of those.
You fill the next hour or so doing such.
Gained Trait: Amatuer Fisherman: +1 Stewardship: I will concede that it is not much akin to casting a line
After what seems like an eternity of heavy lifting- making you glad for your inability to have changed into better clothes to meet the Emira- the Captain begins shouting once more and the ship turns, it's sail unfurling.
Somewhat glad with how the trip had gone- you doubt you'd made a bad impression on the Emira- you settled in for another somewhat boring trip.
Sadly, you were interrupted from your peaceful voyage by the tell-tale thwip of one of the ship's scorpions firing. Shortly thereafter, you heard cheering from the forecastle and the noise of a crank.
Eager to see what had been speared, you, carefully as you could whilst jogging, mounted the forecastle and made your way through to the front, directly above where the harpoon scorpions were housed.
There, out roughly sixty meters, a great thrashing in the water and a growing spot of redness in the water betrayed the subject of the harpoon's bite- a shark, roughly the length of a man-and-a-half. Even as you watched, the thrashes of the best slowed and the rope owed it ever closer to the ship. Indeed, it was, at best, a mere fifteen yards away when you were shattered from your reverie by a set of shouts and the further thwips of all three of the starboard scorpions.
Quite suddenly, you felt the ship jerk sharply forward, and you fell back
More shouts and a hard thud accompanied the jerk turning into a tow.
Staggering up to your feet, you saw the other three harpoons fly from their berths and off into a far off target. Following them, you soon caught sight of what, exactly, was dragging the ship behind it.
The first of the harpoons to reach the target merely bounced off of the great, black scales of th beast.
The second dug in hard to the fleshy membrane between its spines.
The third dug a furrow into another of the scales before ricocheting off into the deep.
Looking further over the scales of the beast, you spotted a pair of the heavy spears protruding from the side of the monster, looking barely to be pinpricks. You sought to stifle a shudder of fear. You'd been in luck to avoid this sort of beast on your previous voyages.
A Black Leviathan.
Still, even as you fought your fear, another volley of spears fired off. While two of the spears simply missed the great beast, the third dug into the monster near the base of one of its spines. Apparently, this triggered something in the best, as it shifted it's route hard to starboard. Following suit, the vessel again jerked hard- this time along it's side, tilting the vessel dangerously.
As it did so, you heard a crack of a pistol and the heavy rope linking the ship to the leviathan snapped, swiftly putting a stop to the ship's tilt.
Glad that the Knight-Captain had finally decided to rejoin you, you swiftly made your way off of the forecastle while the ship wasn't jerking around.
Against the port railing and half-way off the ship laid the remains of the ship's lookout, who was no-doubt as unprepared as you for the ship's sudden jerk.
Speaking of sudden jerks, the ship's masts were soon at full, and tacking the ship back and forth.
As another set of spears volley and you feel a deep growl rumble through the boat, you realize that the trip back will, as of like, not be as pleasant as the trip out.
The leviathan only returned once on your journey back.
Coming in from starboard, roughly half-way back to the island, the scorpion gunners panicked. The first three shots, all fired quickly, simply grazed off of the monster's thick scales. The best shot simply dug a bit in in between the scales before some spray dislodged it.
The next volley could barely be called such, as you heard fighting break out in the forecastle and only one more spear shot off, bouncing off of one of the leviathan's massive teeth.
Still, the beast was oncoming and you were mostly out of options, so you drew your blade and prepared to intervene in the forecastle- though your greatswords were quick to beat you to it.
While the fighting raging in the forecastle, you were treated to a sight.
Bounding up the aftcastle, Sandra pulled out her pistol once more and, with a shot Taal would have wept at, popped one of the accursed monster's eyes just as it entered what would be considered 'boarding distance'. The beast let off a foul shriek and dove out of sight- no doubt to nurse its wound.
If Sigmar was good, it would find itself slaughtered by its kin before the next witching night.
The rest of your journey was relatively peaceful. Though it was somewhat disturbing to have to dump the bodies of six traitors into the deep as bait for Strohmfels. Whilst the five fallen loyalists were dumped into the warm grasp of Manann.
Upon your return back to the island, you and the Emira had a wonderful dinner and then proceeded to both get blackout drunk and retire to your rooms for the night.
One more update for the Miniturn.
Roll 1d100 for "Vacation Activities"
Conceding a light bow, you motion for the Emira to lead on- you stand as her guest, after all.
The lady graciously takes your invitation and you- as well as her two guards, a pair of your greatswords, and the Knight-Captain who has yet to kill anyone- take after her, deeper into the complex.
The party- of whom at least one member was rather discontent- soon enough reached a set of stairs embedded into the courtyard grounds set in the north-eastern corner of the courtyard grounds. Leading the way, with her two guards bringing up the rear of the party, the Emira guides you and yours down the winding stairway, the familiar scent of salty sea-breeze picking up as you continued downward.
Shortly enough, you and yours found yourselves in a medium sized underground cavern. Though it certainly couldn't fit any large warships, not even a wargalley, it did have enough space for a pair of fishing vessels, baring a passing resemblance to much-shrunken Wolfships. The forecastle even contained a semi-circle firing deck fit with what appeared to be copies of Elvish Eagle's Claws.
Perhaps they were loaded with harpoons for whaling? You could not tell from where you stood.
The Emira's plan thus revealed, you realized that your fishing skills were perhaps a little rusty.
Still, some time out on the waters would help you get your mind off the rabble rousing your men were no doubt partaking in. Hopefully the merchant quarter of the city would remain standing by the end of the day.
But you digress into topics you'd rather remain at the back of your mind.
The Emira, calling out to men yet out of your sightline, rushed forward, much to the repressed consternation of her guards. No doubt your greatswords would commiserate with them in sympathy during the day voyage. Still, though, the day at least promised to be interesting.
Thusly, as you followed the Emira in her rush to the Pupship, rapidly being overtaken by various members of the crew of the vessel who'd, no doubt, been drinking their way to oblivion as sailors are wont to do, you took the time to glance back at your… uninvited tagalong.
To some extent, what you saw was as expected. Indeed, she was, in fact, muttering to herself in what one would be forgiven to assume was an angry fashion. So too was she vehemently not looking at what soon would be heathen charges of hers. Of course, you did not expect her to be so tightly gripping the hammer sigil hanging from her neck, and nor did you think to see her eyes fully closed, with her head bowed, as she followed the procession.
Still, it would not hurt to allow her her time of prayer.
Thus content, you swiftly make it to the gangplank and march your way up to the deck of the largish fishing vessel.
Upon boarding (and decidedly ignoring the exceedingly careful manner by which the Knight-Captain maneuvered over the gangplank), you notice two things most predominantly.
First, in spite of it's passing resemblance to the wolfships, it was, quite clearly, a vessel for fishing. A pair of cranes sat on the starboard deck, opposite where you walked aboard, which had a smooth, wooden ramp between them with a gradual incline, likely to provide a place to dump the nets. Beyond that, the fore and aftcastles, which you'd conceded a bare familiarity as to the purpose of, were not high enough to properly dissuade boarding, lending the vessel the stability required to haul in larger catches.
Secondly, the Emira had managed to find a tri-corner hat somewhere.
Ignoring that for now, you marched into the forecastle, content to put off the smalltalk until the Emira had finished shouting down complaining sailors and the short adventure was well on its way.
How much of this was the Emira's genuine desire to go fishing and how much was to get you away from the debauchery your men would reveling in, you knew not.
Still, you were mostly left to your own devices as the ship undid the dock ties. Accordingly, you set about looking further into the harpoon launchers. More specifically, why there were so many of them.
Glad you hadn't been given the time to lose your sea-legs, you leave behind the Knight-Captain, who'd taken the chance to properly seat herself and continue prayer- odd, though better than purging those about you- and enter into the enclosed forecastle.
Within, ducking around a few frantic seamen as you entered, a full half-score of the scorpions sat, resting their back half on on semi-circled wooden rails- no doubt to ease the aiming process. Oddly enough (though maybe not, you were only passably knowledgeable with the process for whaling), only the middle four appeared to be loaded as you'd expected- with rope and harpoon. Similarly, these four appeared to be the least heavily anchored of the launchers- no doubt to allow for it to be quickly removed from the hole through which the heavy rope attached to harpoons would be fed- preventing it from being destroyed by the trashing of such a beast. The other six, however, boasted heavy spears as their ammunition- more akin to what you'd expect from a weapon of war than an upgraded fishing ship.
You spent a few minutes more studying the armament before you felt the crew start to calm down. Oh sure, there's still the odd cabin boy running about, and the captain's shouts had long since overtaken the Emira's, but none were so frantic about it now.
Not to mention that one of the Greatswords- you really ought to learn some of their names, you supposed- came in and told you directly that all the fuss of pushing off was over.
And so you found yourself standing atop the aftcastle, admiring the weather and appreciating the relative quiet for once in your life, accompanied by the Emira.
Avoiding the hustle and bustle of the ship, calmed though it may be, you decide to push on to the whole point of your arrival.
"Emira, I'm sure you've grasped it at this point, but I would like to confirm that I will be accepting your proposal."
The small smile that you're sure the Emira has sported since she stepped foot on this vessel wavers, if only for a moment. You give her a few moments before continuing.
"Though, I would like to know is what made you so very desperate that you'd be willing to wed yourself to an 'alwathani'."
The Emira, likely realizing the futility of trying to avoid you on this journey she initiated, simply turns to you, leaning into a particularly upsetting sway, and answers, her eyes sparkling with cautioned interest.
"I imagine the answer is much the same as to why a noble of the Empire would not simply wait for proposals from his people to come, instead settling for a 'heathen'."
So it will be like that, then?
"Perhaps I am simply wanting for womenflesh and could not stand to wait another moment when so succulent an offering was made."
The Emira waves off a sailor, likely bringing a message from the captain, and thrusts back.
"And you could not satisfy yourself with the Hunter, then? Or the many hundreds of beautiful maidens that occupy your realm? Surely there is a supple debutante who could satiate your desires."
She glances, lightly, over to where the Knight-Captain yet still prays, though you think you see one eye gazing upon the pair of you. The Emira then continues.
"No, you came for the same reason as I sought you. There was an opportunity to better your place in this world."
The Emira waves vaguely northward before continuing.
"I know little enough of your Empire- only words filtered through Brettonian tongues- but I know I can be more than a simple factory for soldiers with you. Your enclave is strong enough that I see value in linking myself too it, but far enough that I doubt it would be convenient to you to conquer me and mine, rather unlike my closer 'brothers'."
You give a light nod, as nothing she'd said had been too far outside your expectations. Still, you did have one question.
"Brettonians?"
This time the Emira gave you a simple shrug.
"They still occupy a little rock northeast of here, much like you enclave. Though, they do substitute your fleet with large walls."
You shrug off the implication that, without your wooden wall, your recently-came-into lands would be swept away in an Arabian tide.
You make to respond, but the captain at that point calls out for a quarter-mast and sets the boat into a long, lazy circle. The Emira takes the opportunity and drags you amidship to give aid to the men dropping anchored nets.
You find yourself flanked by your Greatswords shortly enough, both of them having unwrapped their weapons upon the ship dropping speed, who take the chance to also take part.
The Emira, meanwhile, seems to be helping her men launch large, light cages with long ropes tied to brightly-painted and treated wood attached to them. Some sort of botton-feeder, you suppose, must be the target of those.
You fill the next hour or so doing such.
Gained Trait: Amatuer Fisherman: +1 Stewardship: I will concede that it is not much akin to casting a line
After what seems like an eternity of heavy lifting- making you glad for your inability to have changed into better clothes to meet the Emira- the Captain begins shouting once more and the ship turns, it's sail unfurling.
Somewhat glad with how the trip had gone- you doubt you'd made a bad impression on the Emira- you settled in for another somewhat boring trip.
Sadly, you were interrupted from your peaceful voyage by the tell-tale thwip of one of the ship's scorpions firing. Shortly thereafter, you heard cheering from the forecastle and the noise of a crank.
Eager to see what had been speared, you, carefully as you could whilst jogging, mounted the forecastle and made your way through to the front, directly above where the harpoon scorpions were housed.
There, out roughly sixty meters, a great thrashing in the water and a growing spot of redness in the water betrayed the subject of the harpoon's bite- a shark, roughly the length of a man-and-a-half. Even as you watched, the thrashes of the best slowed and the rope owed it ever closer to the ship. Indeed, it was, at best, a mere fifteen yards away when you were shattered from your reverie by a set of shouts and the further thwips of all three of the starboard scorpions.
Quite suddenly, you felt the ship jerk sharply forward, and you fell back
More shouts and a hard thud accompanied the jerk turning into a tow.
Staggering up to your feet, you saw the other three harpoons fly from their berths and off into a far off target. Following them, you soon caught sight of what, exactly, was dragging the ship behind it.
The first of the harpoons to reach the target merely bounced off of the great, black scales of th beast.
The second dug in hard to the fleshy membrane between its spines.
The third dug a furrow into another of the scales before ricocheting off into the deep.
Looking further over the scales of the beast, you spotted a pair of the heavy spears protruding from the side of the monster, looking barely to be pinpricks. You sought to stifle a shudder of fear. You'd been in luck to avoid this sort of beast on your previous voyages.
A Black Leviathan.
Still, even as you fought your fear, another volley of spears fired off. While two of the spears simply missed the great beast, the third dug into the monster near the base of one of its spines. Apparently, this triggered something in the best, as it shifted it's route hard to starboard. Following suit, the vessel again jerked hard- this time along it's side, tilting the vessel dangerously.
As it did so, you heard a crack of a pistol and the heavy rope linking the ship to the leviathan snapped, swiftly putting a stop to the ship's tilt.
Glad that the Knight-Captain had finally decided to rejoin you, you swiftly made your way off of the forecastle while the ship wasn't jerking around.
Against the port railing and half-way off the ship laid the remains of the ship's lookout, who was no-doubt as unprepared as you for the ship's sudden jerk.
Speaking of sudden jerks, the ship's masts were soon at full, and tacking the ship back and forth.
As another set of spears volley and you feel a deep growl rumble through the boat, you realize that the trip back will, as of like, not be as pleasant as the trip out.
The leviathan only returned once on your journey back.
Coming in from starboard, roughly half-way back to the island, the scorpion gunners panicked. The first three shots, all fired quickly, simply grazed off of the monster's thick scales. The best shot simply dug a bit in in between the scales before some spray dislodged it.
The next volley could barely be called such, as you heard fighting break out in the forecastle and only one more spear shot off, bouncing off of one of the leviathan's massive teeth.
Still, the beast was oncoming and you were mostly out of options, so you drew your blade and prepared to intervene in the forecastle- though your greatswords were quick to beat you to it.
While the fighting raging in the forecastle, you were treated to a sight.
Bounding up the aftcastle, Sandra pulled out her pistol once more and, with a shot Taal would have wept at, popped one of the accursed monster's eyes just as it entered what would be considered 'boarding distance'. The beast let off a foul shriek and dove out of sight- no doubt to nurse its wound.
If Sigmar was good, it would find itself slaughtered by its kin before the next witching night.
The rest of your journey was relatively peaceful. Though it was somewhat disturbing to have to dump the bodies of six traitors into the deep as bait for Strohmfels. Whilst the five fallen loyalists were dumped into the warm grasp of Manann.
Upon your return back to the island, you and the Emira had a wonderful dinner and then proceeded to both get blackout drunk and retire to your rooms for the night.
One more update for the Miniturn.
Roll 1d100 for "Vacation Activities"
Claytonimor
WE WILL TAKE JERUSALEM
- Location
- Loudon, TN
Funnily enough, it wasn't writing this that took me so long. Alas for also playing the Knight-Captain. Who did hella-good on her combat rolls, I must say. Rolling a d20 twice and getting a 19 and a 20? Perhaps she really is "Chosen of Sigmar".
Claytonimor
WE WILL TAKE JERUSALEM
- Location
- Loudon, TN
Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe.
That's a fun number.
Claytonimor
WE WILL TAKE JERUSALEM
- Location
- Loudon, TN
Technically, a 100 would be the most fun, seeing as what was just rolled for is the 'severity' of the event which keeps you from exploring the islands.would've made more sense if that number was a 69
Claytonimor
WE WILL TAKE JERUSALEM
- Location
- Loudon, TN
Okay, for a final decision on what the incident is, I'd like a d10 roll, please, under "Evens/Odds"
King Arthur
The Once and Future King
Claytonimor
WE WILL TAKE JERUSALEM
- Location
- Loudon, TN
Ah, good. You get a taste of why she has the 'desperate' trait.
KarvokaQueen
Queen of the Coffee Cups
- Location
- City of Coffee, Upside-down land
I look forward to seeing it!
King Arthur
The Once and Future King
Claytonimor
WE WILL TAKE JERUSALEM
- Location
- Loudon, TN
Now, now, that would be telling.Oh goodies, is it a sea monster infestation, Chaos lord, bandit incursion, noble troubles, or good old invasions by neighbors? Or god forbid, all the above