Sertorius
Rebellious Legate
- Location
- Roma Invicta
Mercenary Mage Quest: Asur Dogs of War in Warhammer Fantasy
- Thread starter Blackout
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- Fantasy
- Pronouns
- sapper
no they don't. what nonsense. next, you're going to tell us that there is an extremely numerous society of technically advanced mutants living in secret beneath almost every city on the continent, and they have giant human-sized rat-ninja's who can sneak in and murder anyone in the world without being seen. what utter rubbish.
I have never seen any seven-feet long-eared ninja, and neither have you. There is no evidence, at all. stop spreading these crackpot conspiracy theories
Fanriel has mastered the Drax technique of stealth where you move so slow you become imperceptible.
K von Carstein
Likes to go for a walk
- Location
- Belgium
- Pronouns
- He
I prefer the technique that consists in killing all the witnesses
K von Carstein
Likes to go for a walk
- Location
- Belgium
- Pronouns
- He
Where does that meme come from? I know Boney is very fond of it, but I never learned the original lessonFanriel subscribes to an ancient tradition of stealth passed down in the White Tower for generations:
Blackout
Fed By Comments
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I've forgotten the name of it, but it was originally about a WW2 fighter ace whose advice to young pilot trainees is "just be better than everyone else".Where does that meme come from? I know Boney is very fond of it, but I never learned the original lesson
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That is a very kind offer, thank you.
This is less asking for clarification and more rampant curiosity on my part so no worries if you don't have an answer on hand; but i'm really curious as to how you imagine the worship of Eldrazor manifesting.
Since the armybook mentions we get are basically: 'The Sisters of Slaughter exist and are a widely successful cult to him' and the unique relationship Asrai Eternal Guard have with Eldrazor - ritually consecrating parts of Athel Loren with spiritual boundary charms made of blades or finger bones, in order to create areas where Eldrazor's Arena of Death touches the mortal world so they can fight under his gaze in those areas (and, in fact, often plan defences of Athel Loren around such sites). And whilst you mentioned that his cults tend to emerge amongst the duellist circles of Lothern (which makes complete sense to me) I'm wondering what the worship in those cults and what any other Asur or Druchii worship of Eldrazor might actually look like.
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Mathilde has patent for it within FB quests. You don't want to deal with her copyright lawers.I prefer the technique that consists in killing all the witnesses
Blackout
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Well, Eldrazor as the God of Personal Combat is often overshadowed by Khaine, the God of Warfare. An elf might pray to him before a duel, but they're just as likely to pray to Khaine.
His main area of worship in Ulthuan is in Lothern, because Lothern is the only place in Ulthuan where you are legally allowed to declare an honour duel to the death for any reason (the rest of Ulthuan sees this as barbaric and wasteful, but Lothern is also the only place in Ulthuan where the population is large enough to afford such unnecessary attrition). Most of his cultists would resemble Tyrion in his early life: gangs of young noblemen who roam around Lothern late at night, trying to provoke incidents so that they can get into fights, some of them even acting as professional hitmen for various noble or merchant houses who take out specific rivals or enemies by provoking them into a duel.
However, whilst Eldrazor is one of the least-worshipped gods among the Asur, his cults are also some of the hardest for the Swordmasters to stamp out. This is because, as befitting the domain of their patron, his cultists tend to be very individualistic in their worship, associating only loosely with their fellow cultists, if at all. Unlike torture-orgies, wanton murder, drowning live sacrifices in the sea or dabbling in Dark Magic, honour duels are entirely legal in Lothern, so even if being a cultist of Eldrazor is illegal in Ulthuan it is difficult to prove which duellists are hardboiled cultists and which of them just enjoy the thrill like Tyrion. That being said the duellist culture of Lothern is in a way self-policing: those who are too zealous in provoking duels will eventually meet their match sooner or later, or just straight up get assassinated if they anger the wrong house.
Outside of Lothern Eldrazor's cultists are much rarer and easier to discover because they have to resort to underground gladiator arenas and pit fighting rings in order to observe their worship, which is far easier for the authorities to track.
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Where does that meme come from? I know Boney is very fond of it, but I never learned the original lesson
It's from Hark a vagrant (that online comic making fun of philosophers, writers, politicians, comics books and scientists), and it's based on real life canadian ace billy bishop. Unlike the red baron, who had more plane kills (to be specific, 8 more, 80 vs 72) and is 'the ace of aces' because of that, billy actually survived the war (a much better achievement imo) and then helped during WW2 to train pilots by recruiting american pilots as trainers before they were part of the war (kinda sorta legal gray area but Roosevelt encouraged it by removing those people from the draft).
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Thank you so much! Two questions:
Does this mean that other places in Ulthuan allow duels and ones specifically to the death but it's much, much more heavily regulated; hence why cultists elsewhere have to resort to underground fighting arenas?
Secondly, when you say 'cultist' do you mean organised worship/participating in a lifestyle that caters towards the proscribed god rather than just praying to the relevant Cytharai when appropriate? I'm not entirely sure on what makes someone a cultist as opposed to someone who prays to the Cytharai when appropriate beyond obvious things like breaking Ulthuan's laws (for example, murdering people) and/or catering to the proscribed god in organised groups.
Blackout
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Yes. Duels are allowed outside of Lothern but typically to first blood or disarmament, and duels to the death require specific conditions like being permitted by your liege or a Priest of Asuryan to take place, if they are allowed at all.
Correct. Asur are supposed to pray to the Cytharai only when engaging in the activity that falls under that god's purview, and spurn them at all other times. A "cultist" in Asur terminology is someone who does not adhere to this mindset, and instead actively dedicates themselves towards one or more Cytharai the way many Asur dedicate themselves to Cadai, worshipping them even outside of their 'permitted' areas and in fact actively seeks out opportunities to engage in such behaviour. The difference can be hazy and hard to prove, which makes catching them difficult.
Someone who just occasionally prays to Eldrazor right before a duel is not a cultist, but someone who dedicates themselves to seeking out as many duels as they can get into for the glory of Eldrazor is.
Someone who offers a prayer to Khaine on the eve of battle (like Fanriel did against the Kurgans) is not a cultist, but wielding Khainite blessings or sorceries in battle would make you one.
Someone who prays to Mathlann before setting out on a sea journey or during a storm is not a cultist, but someone who chains people to beach at low tide to placate Mathlann is a cultist. (Mathlann is an edge case because the sea is so vital to the Asur way of life that a lot of elves look past their fingers when it comes to organized worship, but the live sacrifices are still heavily clamped down upon).
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- Location
- California
That sort of makes me think how an Etaine lethal duel exile versus a lethal duel exile from another kingdom would have gone during character creation. It might have been interesting; maybe the theoretical Etaine duelist would be less bloodthirsty and just falling back into old habits by accident in the heat of the moment, but maybe they'd be more bloodthirsty and sought out lots of duels before their banishment.
K von Carstein
Likes to go for a walk
- Location
- Belgium
- Pronouns
- He
We can always throw a few mammoths at her, the moment she will take to compose herself will be enough to take care of the lawyersMathilde has patent for it within FB quests. You don't want to deal with her copyright lawers.
That would only work if one of the mammoths is the Everchosen.We can always throw a few mammoths at her, the moment she will take to compose herself will be enough to take care of the lawyers
Will his name be Manny The Mammoth?That would only work if one of the mammoths is the Everchosen.
Priestly Bodyguarding Mission: Part 8
Blackout
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[] Covertly investigate the Shrine of Dazh.
The door cracks open, the creak of iron hinges muffled by a thin barrier of Ulgu. To an observer, it would seem as though the door simply opened on its own, before closing again after a brief moment. Invisible under a cloak of magic though you may be, there are certain limitations you must still labour under. That you must open a door to walk through it is one of those.
Still, it is a calculated risk: Gavrilov had said that the Shrine was empty save for Zanitlov, and what were the chances that he was watching this particular entrance at this particular moment? Quite low, you'd judged.
And it seems like your instinct wasn't off the mark: the antechamber of the Shrine of Dazh is empty, the barren stone quite a contrast to its counterpart you'd been to in Erengrad, decorated richly in golden thread and inlaid murals. Curiously, you see metal hooks sticking out of the walls where tapestries and paintings could be hung, yet they are absent.
Still, you have little time to spend on wondering about such matters, as maintaining two separate spells to cover yourself from sight and sound is a feat you cannot keep up for very long. Thankfully the entrance to the altar room does not feature another door, and you step into the vast central space.
The altar room occupies most of the space in the Shrine, a huge circular chamber with an arched ceiling leading up to the opening at the very top. Much of the floor space is taken up by the huge firepit at the center of the room, with a gold-eyed statue of Dazh standing over it. Lining the walls are doors to other ancillary chambers, as well as shelves, smaller altars and more blank spaces
And there, standing over the firepit on a pulpit-like platform, you find Zanitlov. Behind him on the floor is a haphazard pile of books, bundled rugs, paintings, and other assorted items like cups. It seems you have found the missing decorations.
As you watch, the priest picks up one of them in his arms, holding it high over the flames.
"Almighty Dazh, may your flames cleanse this heresy."
With those words he casts the tapestry into the firepit, watching solemnly as it catches aflame and burns into cinders. Then, he turns around to pick another one from the pile, repeating the process.
Soundless and invisible, you stalk closer, and as Zanitlov turns his back once more, take a look at the objects he has piled up. They are clearly religious icons, each intricately crafted and finely-made by human standards. Curiously, besides the common motifs of flames, phoenixes and Dazh himself, much of the imagery also depicts a hooded female figure, often with a small firebird sitting at her shoulder.
Herein lies the knowledge you require.
When Zanitlov's eyes are averted, you dart with the swiftness of a snake to grab one of the tomes, spiriting it away under your cloak of Ulgu. Retreating from the altar room, you cast a quick glance behind yourself, making sure that the priest is still focused on his work. You make your way out of the Shrine, dodging your way through the foot traffic and relinquishing your spell of invisibility only once you've returned to your lodgings. One of the Swordmasters says something and you reply noncommittally, your attention wholly focused in the book in your arms.
Settling into a pile of hay, you crack open the covers. Titled The Life and Glories of Saint Ulagan, the Chosen of Fire, it details the story of the titular Saint Ulagan, the chosen prophet and messenger of Dazh. She was born to an unremarkable Ungol family in the village of Noveblya some forty years ago, the daughter of a huntsman and a nursemaid, yet the signs of greatness were already there from her early life.
According to the tale told within the book, Ulagan learned to speak as a babe of little more than few months, and by her first yearday she was speaking in full sentences. As she grew older she soon proved to be wise far beyond her years, often offering insights and advice to the problems of the village that seemed almost prescient in its accuracy. Even learned men could not best her in a matching of wits, whilst matters always seemed to fall in her favour and against those who had made an enemy of her, a clear sign of the blessing of the gods upon her.
For an example, when some of the villagers grew suspicious and fearful of her, they found themselves suffering from a variety of ill fortunes. One died as his horse bucked out from underneath him, another found his herds slaughtered by wildlife and so, unable to provide for his family anymore, was forced to move south in search of a new life, while the third was discovered to be concealing a mutation and stoned by the villagers, just rewards for scorning the Saint.
By the time she was ten winters of age, even the village's Wise Woman, Baba Noga, had grown jealous of Ulagan, and conspired to have her taken away from her parents. It was then, according to the book, that Dazh himself intervened on her behalf, sending one of his favoured servants to guide her path.
A tiny firebird, a raven shaped from the holy flames of Dazh, visited her when she was hunting, warning her of Noga's intentions. It was time, it claimed, for her to take the next step along her path to her destiny.
When Ulagan returned to the village she did not go home, where Noga awaited, but instead came upon the doors of Noveblya's Shrine of Dazh. It was tended to by an old priest by the name of Yveg, and when he laid his eyes upon her he was overcome with the presence of his god's hand on her. He immediately agreed to take her under his wing, and induct her into the Cult of Dazh.
Noga's cruel plan was now foiled: even the Wise Women dared not interfere with the affairs of the priesthood of the Sun God. Ulagan swiftly excelled in her studies, learning to read and write at an astonishing speed, and taking to the teachings of Dazh like water. Soon, Yveg had taught her everything he could, and the student had exceeded the master. So he dispatched Ulagan to the Temple of Dazh in Praag, where her abilities could truly flourish.
And flourish she did. Ulagan could best even priests thrice her age in debates of theological matters, and it seemed as though nobody could get the last word on her. She rose through the ranks of the priesthood at an astonishing rate, and at the age of seventeen years she would be the youngest fully ordained priest in the Cult's history. The miracles she could manifest were of an entirely separate magnitude to those wielded by other priests, and when an Orc Waaagh menaced Praag she summoned immense geysirs of flame from her hands which single-handedly incinerated vast swathes of the greenskin army. The High Watcher of Praag bestowed upon her the Holy Shroud of Arvamora, and thereafter she would go nowhere without the distinctive hood drawn over her.
This and many other legendary feats did Ulagan perform, but most notable of all was how her intellect and charisma swiftly drew followers to her side, the faithful of Dazh travelling from across Kislev to hear her speak. She preached that Dazh was not merely a guardian of the hearth and patron of hospitality, but the giver and taker of life, whose flames could not only warm, but burn away the impure. He was no mere Prince of the Heavens but their King, and all other gods bowed before his majesty.
Many flocked to Ulagan's creed, but her genius made her many enemies, for the Gospodar priests from the temples of Erengrad and Kislev City grew jealous of Ulagan's talents and the favour she received from Dazh. They were fearful of an Ungol woman gaining such influence over the Cult, and opposed her at every turn. They spread false rumours about her, whispered into the ear of the Tzar and even attempted to have her assassinated.
Yet, all of these clumsy attempts did Ulagan evade, for Dazh's divine messengers whispered into her ears of events yet to come, and the Gospodars were constantly outplayed. But as matters escalated, Ulagan in her great wisdom saw that Kislev could not afford to be divided in such dangerous times. She gathered an army of her most loyal followers to her side and departed north, following the visions bestowed upon her by Dazh.
There, outside of the walls of Fort Straghov, they came upon a massive warband of Kurgans in service of the Flylord besieging the fortress-settlement, and the loyal devotees of Dazh fell upon them with zeal and hatred. The servants of Nurgle were many and wielded the fell gifts of their patron, but Ulagan fought like a demigod, surrounded by a cyclone of flame that ensured none of their foul poisons could reach her, and soon the resolve of the Kurgans was broken.
With the northmen routed, Ulagan walked around the battlefield, pointing out locations, and on those spots her followers erected great pyres. When she was finished she gave the order, and captured Kurgans were thrown onto the pyres, sacrifices to Dazh's glory.
It was then that Ulagan addressed her followers, speaking of how her heart ached for Kislev's disunity and how she wished she could stay, but Dazh himself had called her to serve at his side. She bid them to hold true to her teachings and spread her word far and wide, and when the time was right, she would return to lead them to glory and victory over the unbelievers.
Ulagan then turned on her heel and walked towards the last pyre, left empty. She hurled herself into the flames, but the moment they did so they roared into life, a titanic pillar of multicoloured fire stretching towards the skies. Those present swore that they saw a great winged shape emerge from the flames and shoot off towards the skies, disappearing into the light of the morning sun as it rose over the oblast.
To a man, her followers vowed to follow her last commandments, and returned to their homes to spread Ulagan's creed, and to prepare for the day of her return. Yveg, the old priest of Noveblya, swore to compile a book detailing the story of Ulagan's life, so that all may learn of her deeds.
The very book that you are reading.
(Connecting the Dots: 67+30(Fanriel Learning)-10(Second-Hand Source)+15(Familiarity)=102/100)
It is certainly quite the tale, and certainly eyeopening in many aspects. As you put down the book you instinctively look for your notes to recollect your thoughts, only to realize that you no longer have access to paper, and parchment is interminably expensive in these lands.
You sigh.
But no matter. You would be a poor Loremaster if you needed physical notes to assess and review a body of text.
Yveg writes in the grandiose manner of a religious zealot, working hard to convince the reader of Ulagan's righteousness. You suspect that this is not the first version of this text, nor the last if the other books in Zanitlov's burn pile were any indication.
On the face of it, it would be easy to read it as simply another religious schism the likes of which populate the history of the humans, another chapter in the history of tension between the Ungols and Gospodars. That is clearly what Yveg tried to portray it as, for all that he seemed utterly convinced of Ulagan's legitimacy.
But if there is one thing that is taught in the White Tower, it is how to extract the truth from the written word. Once you strip away the obvious exaggerations, a pattern makes itself apparent to your eyes.
A fiery raven at her shoulder, whispering into her ear. The odd coincidences in her favour. Flames shooting out of her hands. The manipulation. The cult of personality. The pillar of multicoloured fire. And the ritual.
Dazh is not the only god common to these lands associated with fire and birds.
The dead and the dying litter the rubble of white marble. All around you, daemons cavort and laugh, delighting in the torture they inflict. You see an androgynous figure standing over a fallen warrior, shuddering with pleasure at each scream of pain emerging from his hoarse throat as it slowly pulls him apart piece by piece with its crab-like claws. Red-skinned brutes slam bodies against pieces of once-sacred masonry, coating them in a layer of thick gore.
Yet all of them pale in comparison to the horror before you. To your Magesight it is like a wound in reality, a vortex of purest magic wrapped around itself. To your eyes it is a towering, vaguely humanoid figure, two avian heads on long serpentine necks extending from its shoulders.
It bears a bird-like aspect, but its form flickers and twists in subtle ways, the edges of its blue-pink plumage flickering as though each individual feather was a mote of flame. The raw stuff of Chaos seeps into the very ground its taloned feet stand on, solid stone turning waxen, taking the shape of constantly-blinking eyes.
Tendrils of prismatic flame extend from its taloned hands, wrapping around the two elves lying on the ground before it. Skin begins to run and droop like molten metal, cancerous growths of flesh blooming akin to flowers. They scream, their voices slowly becoming one as their bodies conjoin into one, twisting and folding with the constant snapping of bones being broken and reformed. In a matter of seconds they are unrecognizable as proud elven warriors, distorted into the shape of an arcane symbol, a sphere of flesh with four undulating extensions each comprised of multiple hands and feet fused together.
And then, with its foul deed done, the daemon laughs with a keening, oddly-echoing voice, and turns its attention upon you. Four unseeing eyes gaze down upon you, and you know that your doom is at hand.
Yet, before you can muster even the feeblest of defiance, you feel a warmth at your back, emerging from deep within the ruined ziggurat. What happens next is difficult to explain, as you feel a titanic presence wash over you, as far beyond you as you are beyond an ant.
It is white fire. It is raw power. It is light. It is hope. It is renewal. It is the promise that you are labouring towards an end, that there exists a greater purpose.
Now it is the daemons' turn to scream.
The tidal wave of power sweeps them away like leaves before a thunderstorm, leaving behind ghostly afterimages that blow away like ash in the wind.
You are too overwhelmed to move, your mind, body and soul numb to all feeling.
Movement in front of you stirs you to look down, and to your horror the component parts of the twisted sigil of flesh are still moving, hands and feet and faces wriggling to free themselves from their unnatural union, even as the profane symbol continues to burn with dark power.
You see the gromril sword lying discarded on the ground before you.
"Please," emerges from three mouths, a dozen eyes looking up at you with pleading gazes.
You pick up the blade, the runes glowing with cold purpose. You know what you must do.
Tzeentch. The Chaos God of Change, Deception, Knowledge, Lies, Magic, Trickery, and many more besides. The Architect of Fate and the Changer of Ways. The Great Conspirator.
And chief among his symbols are ravens, and the hellfires of Chaos.
There is more to it, of course. Ulagan was twenty-seven years old when she 'ascended', and the number of sacrifices she had burned at stake was eighty-one. There are other clues, harder to spot, contextual indications buried within the story and excerpts of her speeches that are only possible to spot thanks to your extensive work against the followers of Chaos, subtle indications that on their own are nothing, yet assembled together form a picture that you cannot overlook.
You do not believe Yveg knew the truth, nor did any of Ulagan's followers. In fact you are almost certain they did not, for it is not the way of the Great Conspirator. But they have been taught, and in turn taught others, to look for certain symbols and sources of authority. Should another fiery raven descend from the skies to whisper in their ears, let alone Ulagan herself return to the mortal realm, they would follow without question.
Right into the waiting arms of Chaos.
This information recontextualizes everything about Zanitlov and your mission. The significance of Noveblya is that it is where Ulagan was born and raised, and where Yveg worked to write her bibliography. The urgency was because there was only a limited window to destroy Yveg's writings and other works associated with Ulagan. Outsiders were hired because they did not know who to trust. And the secrecy was needed to avoid tipping off Ulagan's followers, and because they could not admit that what must be a substantial portion of the Cult of Dazh worships a Daemon Prince of Tzeentch as his divine messenger.
Yet, what are you to do with this knowledge? Your instinct as a Loremaster is to act, yet you are no longer in Ulthuan, backed up by the authority of the White Tower and the Phoenix King. You are an outsider interfering in human affairs, with no evidence to act upon save for your own intuition. How far can you pursue this?
But more immediately, you must decide what to do about Zanitlov. Even if he is ultimately working to defend Kislev from Chaos, he still lied to your face and hired you under false pretenses. Yet, can you fault him for it, knowing what he is dealing with? Can you afford to confront your employers every time they make a decision you do not approve of?
-Dark Curiosity has been satisfied, and the Curse abates. Fanriel can act freely.
-Four hours Moratorium.
[] Pretend everything is normal. You are content to know that your mission hinders the forces of Chaos.
[] Confront Zanitlov. You are not satisfied with being lied to and kept in the dark by your employer.
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I think we can bear to pretend things are normal, dark curiosity satisfied. There is nothing to gain from a confrontation here and much potentially to lose.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Thinking about it, maybe we should do a write-in where we let him know casually that we figured everything out (we are a professional Chaos-hunter), but it shouldn't be in a confrontational way. We might want to apologize to Gavrilov as well (or not...I'm not sure if that's in-character under these circumstances).
Like, we shouldn't act angry about being kept in the dark...he had no obligation to inform us, but on the other hand, making it clear we figured out what happened seems like it would incline him to recommend us for the sort of things we want to do.
Something like:
[] Congratulate Zantilov privately for his actions combating the Great Deceiver, making it clear you know what was going on here, but will be staying quiet about it no matter what.
It's definitely either that or just keep quiet. Angry confrontations aren't helpful here and he was doing the right thing anyway.
Like, we shouldn't act angry about being kept in the dark...he had no obligation to inform us, but on the other hand, making it clear we figured out what happened seems like it would incline him to recommend us for the sort of things we want to do.
Something like:
[] Congratulate Zantilov privately for his actions combating the Great Deceiver, making it clear you know what was going on here, but will be staying quiet about it no matter what.
It's definitely either that or just keep quiet. Angry confrontations aren't helpful here and he was doing the right thing anyway.
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- Location
- Bretonnia
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Woah. Our high learning really came in clutch. Good to know that the whole purpose of this trop is to fuck over Chaos.
Yeah, I agree that we should pretend that everything is fine - confronting Zanitlov doesn't really do anything for us, and we have much to lose if such an encounter goes poorly.
Yeah, I agree that we should pretend that everything is fine - confronting Zanitlov doesn't really do anything for us, and we have much to lose if such an encounter goes poorly.
Xexilf
Oblivion Sempiternum Daemonis
Yes, not being angry about it, Zanitlov really acted absolutely right here, and when dealing with Tzeentch infiltration, keeping quiet towards people you dont trust deeply is only good sense.
Maybe point it out quietly or nicely, but definitely not being angry.
Maybe point it out quietly or nicely, but definitely not being angry.
