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Mercenary Mage Quest: Asur Dogs of War in Warhammer Fantasy

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also I would not be suprised to find that Grail Knights tend to age quickly, once they start aging
kept at the prime of their life by their blessings until they hit say 150
then age to death over a decade
 
Durin said:
also I would not be suprised to find that Grail Knights tend to age quickly, once they start aging
kept at the prime of their life by their blessings until they hit say 150
then age to death over a decade
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I also wouldn't be surprised of it was rather variable. You might get one Grail Knight outlasting another by decades, either because of something to do with themselves or something about the Lady's favor.
 
Mopman43 said:
I also wouldn't be surprised of it was rather variable. You might get one Grail Knight outlasting another by decades, either because of something to do with themselves or something about the Lady's favor.
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and that is for the Grail Knights that live long enough to die of old age
all grail knights are incredible to begin with, and with the blessing are literally superhuman (by warhammer standards)
but they are by no means invincible and tend to seek out danger
 
Yeah, the Lady's chosen are supposed to put the power She gave them to good use, and that good use is defending Her realm and its people. Given how many things want to take a bite of Bretonnia (often literally), they are bound to face dangerous enemies after dangerous enemies until they are inevitably killed by one of them. I expect that very few Grain Knights die of old age.
 
If there are going to be Questing Knights at the Middle Mountains I wonder what are the odds of us catching a glimpse of the Green Knight. It would be interesting to see what he'd look like under our Witch Sight.
 
Captain Hadvar Northblood

"Norsca. Strange to be home once more. Even stranger that I've been gone for centuries and it has changed not at all. And they'll insist it is a sign of strength that they remain the same while the southerners grow and change century by century, with new weapons and bigger ships."


There is a recent arrival to the Sea of Claws, a large, rickety-looking ship, with black tattered sails and numerous cannon-ports. It has attacked a number of merchant ships as it made its way along the coast, with few survivors to speak of the dead that swarm up from the sea to overwhelm their crews. This ship is The Rotten Maw, and its captain goes by Hadvar Northblood. He was once a fierce Norscan warrior and sailor, before he strayed too close to the Vampire Coast and was converted by Luthor Harkon to a new way of unlife.

He spent centuries under Luthor's maddened rule, learning the art of powder and cannon, and growing familiar with the new strength that was now his own along with the cold blood in his veins. Now he has broken away from his post guarding one of the rivers along the Vampire Coast, and he has plans for his old homeland. He doesn't really anticipate any trouble from Luthor- even if he notices that Hadvar is gone, he left a second in command. He expects Luthor will hardly notice the difference.

Hadvar believes that the Dark Gods have left Norsca weak. Certainly, men of other realms have built and achieved far grander things, while the Norscans, in his view, continue to squat in huts and devote all their energies and greatest champions to the Dark Gods and gain nothing from it. He envisions a new Norsca, one that rejects the Dark Gods. Led by vampires, with himself at the top- naturally- and united and working to build a vibrant, powerful nation that will be able to impose its will on the rest of the world.

Of course, there is a tremendous gap between ambition and reality, but he has plenty of options for how to begin. His main need for the moment is a base of operations, somewhere to store captured powder and guns and any spare dead that he can't squeeze into the Maw. Perhaps he can hire himself out to a tribe to start building his influence and seek converts to his cause? He will need some level of subtlety, the servants of the Dark Gods have little fondness for vampires and even less for those trying to steal their flocks.
  • Equipped with Obscinite Axes, Brace of Pistols, Heavy Armor, Lizard-Skin Cloak
  • Master of the Lore of the Deeps, competent in Necromancy
  • Obscinite Axes- Luthor Harkon has salvaged a great deal of this black rock from battles with the Lizardmen. Hadvar took two sharp chunks that had some kind of sigils inscribed on them and tied them to wooden poles to create these very crude axes. Despite their rough appearance, the obscinite is surprisingly sharp and incredibly tough, and whether because of the material or some Lizardmen working, seems to absorb magic. Wizards struck by these axes find it difficult to cast spells, and daemons struggle to remain in the mortal world.
  • Lizard-Skin Cloak- Made from the hide of a Saurus Oldblood that Hadvar killed in a duel, there is nothing magical about this cloak but it is thick and sturdy and quite effective as armor.
  • Bloodline Powers: Master Strike, Strength of Steel, Blood Fury
  • Blood Fury- Whether some of Luthor's madness transmitted through his lineage or a product of his Norscan heritage, a frightful madness wells up in Hadvar during battles. He can either control it, and simply let it lend him greater ferocity and vigor, or unleash it, and lose all control, becoming a juggernaut of whirling axes, only regaining lucidity when everything else is dead.
Hans, Gunnery Wight

Hans once served aboard a Tilean vessel bound for the new world before it was captured by the Vampire Coast. Luckily for Hadvar, Hans proved he was quite skilled in the use and creation of gunpowder, and most of those skills even survived him becoming a Wight.

Hadvar isn't actually sure if his name is Hans, but it sounds close enough to what he groans out when he asks him.
  • Equipped with Handgun, Bombs, Light Armor

20 Norse Wights

All that remains of Hadvar's crew when he was a mortal, now serving him for eternity in a different fashion.
  • Equipped with Dual Axes, Heavy Armor
500 Gunnery Mobs
  • Equipped with a mix of handguns, pistols, and hand-cannons
100 Fell Bats

100 Razortooth Rats

12 Carronades (more if he pulls more guns off of his ship)

The Rotten Maw

A large Galleon, bristling with cannons and packed to the brim with the undead. All the weight leaves it rather slow, but this is compensated by Hadvar's mastery of the strange sea magics of the Vampire Coast. Its broadsides are fit to go toe-to-toe with the largest vessels in the Old World.
 
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Interesting irony, that undead is talking about how stagnation is bad.

It has potential to be even more ironic, if Hadvar was born in Nurgle Crow-worshipping Tribe/Village
 
also he got like 3 Elves to work with dwarves
I would not be surpised to find similar numbers of elves have worked with dwarves before
 
Durin said:
also he got like 3 Elves to work with dwarves
I would not be surpised to find similar numbers of elves have worked with dwarves before
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WE have worked with dwarfs before, on our last mission. An entire Asur naval patrol and five odd dozen dwarf mercenaries.

The thing about Magnus is that he got direct subordinates of the Phoenix King to work with the High King himself without threatening to kill each other.
 
Boodlesnoop said:
WE have worked with dwarfs before, on our last mission. An entire Asur naval patrol and five odd dozen dwarf mercenaries.

The thing about Magnus is that he got direct subordinates of the Phoenix King to work with the High King himself without threatening to kill each other.
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To be fair, 'work with the High King' isn't necessarily how I'd describe it.

High King Alrikkson was already in the city when it fell under siege by Asavar Kul. By the time that Teclis and co were in the same room as him, the job was just about finished.
 
Mopman43 said:
Captain Hadvar Northblood

"Norsca. Strange to be home once more. Even stranger that I've been gone for centuries and it has changed not at all. And they'll insist it is a sign of strength that they remain the same while the southerners grow and change century by century, with new weapons and bigger ships."


There is a recent arrival to the Sea of Claws, a large, rickety-looking ship, with black tattered sails and numerous cannon-ports. It has attacked a number of merchant ships as it made its way along the coast, with few survivors to speak of the dead that swarm up from the sea to overwhelm their crews. This ship is The Rotten Maw, and its captain goes by Hadvar Northblood. He was once a fierce Norscan warrior and sailor, before he strayed too close to the Vampire Coast and was converted by Luthor Harkon to a new way of unlife.

He spent centuries under Luthor's maddened rule, learning the art of powder and cannon, and growing familiar with the new strength that was now his own along with the cold blood in his veins. Now he has broken away from his post guarding one of the rivers along the Vampire Coast, and he has plans for his old homeland. He doesn't really anticipate any trouble from Luthor- even if he notices that Hadvar is gone, he left a second in command. He expects Luthor will hardly notice the difference.

Hadvar believes that the Dark Gods have left Norsca weak. Certainly, men of other realms have built and achieved far grander things, while the Norscans, in his view, continue to squat in huts and devote all their energies and greatest champions to the Dark Gods and gain nothing from it. He envisions a new Norsca, one that rejects the Dark Gods. Led by vampires, with himself at the top- naturally- and united and working to build a vibrant, powerful nation that will be able to impose its will on the rest of the world.

Of course, there is a tremendous gap between ambition and reality, but he has plenty of options for how to begin. His main need for the moment is a base of operations, somewhere to store captured powder and guns and any spare dead that he can't squeeze into the Maw. Perhaps he can hire himself out to a tribe to start building his influence and seek converts to his cause? He will need some level of subtlety, the servants of the Dark Gods have little fondness for vampires and even less for those trying to steal their flocks.
  • Equipped with Obscinite Axes, Brace of Pistols, Heavy Armor, Lizard-Skin Cloak
  • Master of the Lore of the Deeps, competent in Necromancy
  • Obscinite Axes- Luthor Harkon has salvaged a great deal of this black rock from battles with the Lizardmen. Hadvar took two sharp chunks that had some kind of sigils inscribed on them and tied them to wooden poles to create these very crude axes. Despite their rough appearance, the obscinite is surprisingly sharp and incredibly tough, and whether because of the material or some Lizardmen working, seems to absorb magic. Wizards struck by these axes find it difficult to cast spells, and daemons struggle to remain in the mortal world.
  • Lizard-Skin Cloak- Made from the hide of a Saurus Oldblood that Hadvar killed in a duel, there is nothing magical about this cloak but it is thick and sturdy and quite effective as armor.
  • Bloodline Powers: Master Strike, Strength of Steel, Blood Fury
  • Blood Fury- Whether some of Luthor's madness transmitted through his lineage or a product of his Norscan heritage, a frightful madness wells up in Hadvar during battles. He can either control it, and simply let it lend him greater ferocity and vigor, or unleash it, and lose all control, becoming a juggernaut of whirling axes, only regaining lucidity when everything else is dead.


20 Norse Wights

All that remains of Hadvar's crew when he was a mortal, now serving him for eternity in a different fashion.
  • Equipped with Dual Axes, Heavy Armor
500 Gunnery Mobs
  • Equipped with a mix of handguns, pistols, and hand-cannons
100 Fell Bats

100 Razortooth Rats

12 Carronades (more if he pulls more guns off of his ship)

The Rotten Maw

A large Galleon, bristling with cannons and packed to the brim with the undead. All the weight leaves it rather slow, but this is compensated by Hadvar's mastery of the strange sea magics of the Vampire Coast. Its broadsides are fit to go toe-to-toe with the largest vessels in the Old World.
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Approved, can't think of anything else to say.
 
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Middle Mountains Campaign Part 1
  • Threadmarks
    • [] Middle Mountains Campaign

    You rendezvous with the Sea Guard at the Ostland-Kislev border, the tollkeepers watching the heavily armed elves warily as they march across to your side.

    -20GC spent on border tolls.

    There is a short pause as the Lothernites load their packs onto the mule-drawn cart you purchased from Erengrad, before you begin the march southward. While that, of course, leaves little in the way of room for supplies, you do not need much: you may not hold the title of Verdariounar, you can support a small group of individuals on Ghyran practically indefinitely.

    While you are uncomfortable asking your companions to subsist on a diet of magic outside of campaign, on the march it is simply something that is expected of an elven soldier when the situation calls for it. While Asur warhosts rely on a robust system of logistics codified by Tethlys the Slayer, ships cannot deliver supplies inland whilst horses and donkeys have limited range before the supplies they consume during the trip exceed their own carrying capacity.

    Hence the Verdariounar, a title obtained by Mages that have obtained a sufficient proficiency in life-sustaining magics that allow them to keep large numbers of troops in fighting condition with little or no supplies. Whilst this of course exhausts the Mages and leaves them in poor condition to fight the enemy once the host reaches the battlefield, it is a decision that the commander must make: is the advantage gained worth the lessened magical support?

    But even for you, less than two score souls is nothing, though should you expand the Lightfangs further that will change. Nor, for that matter, are any potential human recruits you pick up necessarily so sanguine about magic.

    For now, however, the Sea Guard, not often called upon for long marches in their old role, seem grateful enough for the chance to stow their packs onto the cart.

    It also has another useful side effect, which is that unburdened by their packs and carrying only their arms and armour, the Lightfangs are ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

    Which is a real concern, as you pass by the Bullskeep and enter into the interior of Ostland. The first hundred or so kilometers of your journey are across relatively open farmland, dotted with small forests and villages, very different to the barren oblast of your previous overland journey, but no less dangerous for it. More than once you spot smoke rising from the distance, in far too much abundance to come from any settlement in the region, or come across the sight of a wrecked wagon at the side of the road, surrounded by massive pawprints- giant wolves favoured as mounts by goblin raiding parties.

    Tulo ranges ahead of the party on her new horse, though you take care to impress upon the Ropsmann woman that she is never to stray from direct line of sight from the rest of the group. You could join her, but the peasants and travellers along the road give enough dirty looks to you already that you see no reason to provoke them further by summoning a Shadowsteed.

    Tinuthal leads the Swordmasters behind you, marching in a double column, their greatswords resting against their shoulders. Cothaerion leads the mule by a short rein, at the center of the formation, followed by the Sea Guard in double column, ready to form a flexible rearguard depending on the direction of the attack.

    [61+20(Scout)+20(Heavily Armed)+10(Elves)=111/100]

    For the most part, however, you make your way unmenaced. It seems that even the Greenskins have respect for a group of heavily armoured elves marching down the road, and if they observe your party they judge it too tough to take on.

    With your packs stowed away on the cart and your only human mounted on a horse you could make an even better time eastward, but the Erengrad Road is dotted with small settlements and fortified taverns a day's march (by human standards, that is) from each other, and you are not so overconfident or in such a hurry as to sleep on the side of the road.

    That is where you run into the first complications. This is not Erengrad anymore, and you are not travelling in the company of a respected priest of the God of Hospitality. Most of the Ostlanders you encounter have never so much as seen an elf before, let alone talked to one, and you suspect a good chunk of them thought you little more than myth and legend before you stood in front of them.

    You are treated with near-universal suspicion and fear that is rarely far away from hostility. Many cite you exorbitant prices that you know for a fact cannot be what they charge their regular customers- when they let you through the gate, that is.

    So you make do- you have little need for food save for purposes of morale, and camping with your backs against the palisade is still better than sleeping in the open.

    It is little more than what can be expected of Ylvathoi.

    On one such night you catch sight of Tulo circling the outer perimeter of the camp, pausing every so often to crouch low to the ground. She digs into the soil slightly, dropping something into the hole in the ground before spreading the dirt back over it.

    "Couldn't sleep?" you speak up, looking intently at her.

    Tulo startles at your voice, half-turning to look up at you. She shifts uncomfortably, but opens her palm to show you a small piece of glass-like stone, carved in the shape of an axehead with a jagged, zig-zagging shape cut into its side.

    "This is Torvaaja, lightning-stone," she whispers quietly. "Sacred to the God of Thunder. It will protect us from danger."

    You observe the charm with a scholar's eye- it is made from fulgurite, stone formed when lightning strikes the ground. It has been carved with crude tools, but with obvious care and effort.

    "I was given to understand Tor was the god of battle and little else," you observe in a neutral tone, inviting her to respond.

    "That is what he is to the men of Kislev, after the Ungols gelded him," Tulo mutters angrily. "But Tor was the god of the Ropsmenn first, our protector and lord."

    You blink in surprise. You had never given much thought to the god's origins, or the reason for his… limited portfolio.

    "He is our patron in battle, yes, but he also blesses our fields with rains and plentiful harvests. He watches over us from the skies, sending thunder to warn us of evil afoot. But there is only room for one king in the heavens, and the Ungols already had their fiery prince."

    "Ah." You suppress a grimace. It is one of the most thorny theological topics debated within the halls of the White Tower.

    The Aethyr is a reflection of reality and mortal belief. It stands to reason, then, that as gods are empowered by faith, so may they be… changed by it.

    And thus it also stands to reason, that it may be possible to deliberately engineer such changes.

    "It was not as though the Ungols got the last laugh," Tulo shrugs her shoulders as she buries the amulet into the ground, completing the ring around the campsite.

    "In time, they were conquered in turn, and now there is no king in Kislev but the king in the woods whose shape is Bear."

    -New Downtime Action Unlocked: Write a paper to the White Tower about pre-Ungol Ropsmann cultural and religious practices.

    -----

    You also spend time getting to know your newest recruits in the Sea Guard.

    The infantry arm of the Royal Navy are recruited exclusively from Lothern, owing to their origins as the warrior-retinue of the Crown Princes of Eataine, earning their fame in the fires of the Sundering. One of the few standing military forces on Ulthuan that had survived the long peace of Bel-Shanaar, they were among the first to rally to the Conqueror's banner, and proved instrumental in several key battles such as the Liberation of Tor Anroc and the final Battle of the Blighted Isle.

    They have served the Phoenix Kings ever since, though a portion of them remains as the personal guard of the Crown Prince of Eataine, at least in such times when they are not the same person.

    Though recruiting only from Lothern, the city is the great melting pot of Ulthuan, and many of the Sea Guard are the descendants of immigrants, if not immigrants themselves. This lends them a cosmopolitan aspect that many of Ulthuan's more insular warrior-orders lack, with a wide range of backgrounds and rich personalities.

    In conversations over the campfire, you find out that they are not the only ones to have left the Griffon Fleet over Wavestrider's reassignment- merely the ones that decided to seek you out. Others returned to Ulthuan, found some other manner of employment or were able to arrange a transfer to one of the other four fleets that comprise the Royal Navy of Ulthuan.

    Of the score that chose to seek you out, fate transpired that none of them held an officer's rank, customarily called Sea Masters. Not having needed one in their journey so far, the Sea Guard are currently leaderless.

    It is not necessarily a pressing concern- you are more than qualified to command a score and a half of highly-trained elven soldiers by yourself, without needing to delegate leadership further. But if the Lightfangs grow further, there will come a point when your attention is being pulled in too many directions, and it would allow them to operate while you are incapacitated or even absent. Selecting a leader will also shape the attitude and qualities that the Sea Guard take on over time, as all units eventually begin to reflect their commander, whether in contrast or in alignment.

    You've identified three potential candidates from amongst the Sea Guard, based on the respect their peers hold them in as well as their personal qualities.

    Thevan Starspear is from an old and proud family- but not so old and proud that they can make people forget that they once came to Lothern penniless and destitute, their ancestral holdings in Caledor sold off to pay their mountainous debts. Thevan believes that just as the Great Phoenix is reborn in fire, just as her house rose once more to greatness from its slump, so too shall the Asur return to their golden days. The Chosen of Asuryan have the duty and right to shape the world for the better, to not just meekly waste away the years but boldly confront the evils that befoul the world around them.

    It is a flame that burns at the breast of every trueborn child of Ulthuan, but it roars especially brightly in Thevan, and she has dedicated her life to it. She is a fiery orator that people listen to when she talks, and an apt soldier- by your estimation the one most suited to field command.

    Inneryl Cloudlight, on the other hand, is everything you would expect out of a Lothernite. Youngest son of a merchant family, ran off to sea as soon as he could to chase glory and escape the shadow of his older siblings. Patriotic, follower of Mathlann, thinks Lothern is the center of the universe, and has a good head for numbers. Apparently he ran a bit of a market onboard the Splendid Pinion, buying spare equipment with his own money during shore leave and then selling it at a markup right before inspection day to whoever managed to displace theirs from their kit. You suspect he would have been destined to the Quartermaster corps in a couple of decades, once he'd proven himself to his superiors.

    Lastly, Yethis Wildrunner strikes you as a wide-eyed idealist: apparently she'd been born in Druchii captivity, but her mother and she had been rescued by a counter-raid when she was a young child. You would think that it would have embittered her and filled her with hatred towards the Dark Ones, but apparently it has given her perspective- perspective that the divisions between the civilized peoples do not seem nearly so vast when measured against the kinds of monstrosity she has borne witness to.

    Besides yourself and Tethildur, Yethis is the only one to have exchanged more than a handful of words with Tulo- the only one of the Sea Guard to have spoken to her at all, in fact. If you are to recruit more humans to the Lightfangs in the future, she would be the ideal Sea Master to smooth out any difficulties that may arise.

    The final candidate that comes to your mind is Swordmaster Eöl. He is a Lothernite and trained to become a Sea Guard in his youth, but most importantly, he is the last elf you believe would ever betray you. Even Dorial, the absolute rock that he is, is loyal to you as a Bladelord must be to his Loremaster. Eöl, you suspect, would defy even the Phoenix King should you ask that of him.

    There is a nontrivial chance that one or more of the Sea Guard are disingenuous in their professed dislike for Aislinn's actions, and are in fact here to prosecute the Sea Lord's agenda. Placing Eöl at their command would make it easy for him to keep an eye on them, and intervene before they can execute whatever sabotage they intend to commit.

    Or… you could put off the decision for now. Let them prove themselves to you, give yourself time to measure their mettle. They hardly need a leader while the Lightfangs remain so few in number, and your deployments tight-knit.

    -Decide who (if anyone) you wish to name as the leader of the Sea Guard.
    -Moratorium is six hours.

    [] Thevan Starspear

    [] Inneryl Cloudchild

    [] Yethis Wildrunner

    [] Eöl Aufanglith

    [] Nobody
     
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