[X] ??? - It is impossible to tell. Everywhere there is war of a scale never seen, as all the inhabitants of the world battle for not only their lives, but their very fates. Human, elf, dwarf, ogre, greenskin, undead, skaven, halfling, ancient monster, and daemon, all battle against the forces that seek to destroy their destinies. Ulthuan battles against Naagaroth as the Witch-King seeks to finally realize his ambitions, the Old World fights a desperate battle against the Everchosen and all the might of Chaos, undead legions clash in the Southlands, the Ogre Kingdoms scrap with ancient beasts awakened by the storm, the dawi zharr fight a grinding battle against one of the largest hordes of orks the world has ever seen, the skaven are everywhere looking for opportunities to exploit, and in the east, Cathay deals with all of these problems and the issue of their populace being increasingly corrupted by the Changer of Ways. Even as the saurus fight off hordes of daemons and daemongors cascading from the southern Chaos Wastes and the Cult of Pleasure of the druuchi, now given fully over to Slaanesh, from the north, the skaven clan Pestilens boils up from underground in its grotesque multitudes, the undead of the Vampire Coast commit to a serious offensive against the nearby temple-city of Huatl, the Scar of Xahutec vomits forth legions of warpspawn as it did in times past, and dozens of ork warbands blunder into the jungles, their primitive instincts drawn to the many raging battles. In the midst of this chaos, the slaan peer into the mists of fate and find them a nigh-incomprehensible storm, as multiple competing destinies fight for the fate of the world and all in it. It is impossible to say who will come out on top, andperhaps in that unmitigated chaos there is opportunity...
[Unknown casualties during evacuation. Unlocks additional options]
[X] ??? - It is impossible to tell. Everywhere there is war of a scale never seen, as all the inhabitants of the world battle for not only their lives, but their very fates. Human, elf, dwarf, ogre, greenskin, undead, skaven, halfling, ancient monster, and daemon, all battle against the forces that seek to destroy their destinies. Ulthuan battles against Naagaroth as the Witch-King seeks to finally realize his ambitions, the Old World fights a desperate battle against the Everchosen and all the might of Chaos, undead legions clash in the Southlands, the Ogre Kingdoms scrap with ancient beasts awakened by the storm, the dawi zharr fight a grinding battle against one of the largest hordes of orks the world has ever seen, the skaven are everywhere looking for opportunities to exploit, and in the east, Cathay deals with all of these problems and the issue of their populace being increasingly corrupted by the Changer of Ways. Even as the saurus fight off hordes of daemons and daemongors cascading from the southern Chaos Wastes and the Cult of Pleasure of the druuchi, now given fully over to Slaanesh, from the north, the skaven clan Pestilens boils up from underground in its grotesque multitudes, the undead of the Vampire Coast commit to a serious offensive against the nearby temple-city of Huatl, the Scar of Xahutec vomits forth legions of warpspawn as it did in times past, and dozens of ork warbands blunder into the jungles, their primitive instincts drawn to the many raging battles. In the midst of this chaos, the slaan peer into the mists of fate and find them a nigh-incomprehensible storm, as multiple competing destinies fight for the fate of the world and all in it. It is impossible to say who will come out on top, andperhaps in that unmitigated chaos there is opportunity...
[Unknown casualties during evacuation. Unlocks additional options]
[X] ??? - It is impossible to tell. Everywhere there is war of a scale never seen, as all the inhabitants of the world battle for not only their lives, but their very fates. Human, elf, dwarf, ogre, greenskin, undead, skaven, halfling, ancient monster, and daemon, all battle against the forces that seek to destroy their destinies. Ulthuan battles against Naagaroth as the Witch-King seeks to finally realize his ambitions, the Old World fights a desperate battle against the Everchosen and all the might of Chaos, undead legions clash in the Southlands, the Ogre Kingdoms scrap with ancient beasts awakened by the storm, the dawi zharr fight a grinding battle against one of the largest hordes of orks the world has ever seen, the skaven are everywhere looking for opportunities to exploit, and in the east, Cathay deals with all of these problems and the issue of their populace being increasingly corrupted by the Changer of Ways. Even as the saurus fight off hordes of daemons and daemongors cascading from the southern Chaos Wastes and the Cult of Pleasure of the druuchi, now given fully over to Slaanesh, from the north, the skaven clan Pestilens boils up from underground in its grotesque multitudes, the undead of the Vampire Coast commit to a serious offensive against the nearby temple-city of Huatl, the Scar of Xahutec vomits forth legions of warpspawn as it did in times past, and dozens of ork warbands blunder into the jungles, their primitive instincts drawn to the many raging battles. In the midst of this chaos, the slaan peer into the mists of fate and find them a nigh-incomprehensible storm, as multiple competing destinies fight for the fate of the world and all in it. It is impossible to say who will come out on top, and perhaps in that unmitigated chaos there is opportunity...
[Unknown casualties during evacuation. Unlocks additional options]
I like this option since it seems like the other order factions are already dead or seconds away from dying like the other options. Hopefully we won't be so pressured by local threats that we can't help some of the our potential allies. Like if we can help Ulthuan finally kill Malekith and shatter the dark elves than they should be freed up to help the old world.
[X] ??? - It is impossible to tell. Everywhere there is war of a scale never seen, as all the inhabitants of the world battle for not only their lives, but their very fates. Human, elf, dwarf, ogre, greenskin, undead, skaven, halfling, ancient monster, and daemon, all battle against the forces that seek to destroy their destinies. Ulthuan battles against Naagaroth as the Witch-King seeks to finally realize his ambitions, the Old World fights a desperate battle against the Everchosen and all the might of Chaos, undead legions clash in the Southlands, the Ogre Kingdoms scrap with ancient beasts awakened by the storm, the dawi zharr fight a grinding battle against one of the largest hordes of orks the world has ever seen, the skaven are everywhere looking for opportunities to exploit, and in the east, Cathay deals with all of these problems and the issue of their populace being increasingly corrupted by the Changer of Ways. Even as the saurus fight off hordes of daemons and daemongors cascading from the southern Chaos Wastes and the Cult of Pleasure of the druuchi, now given fully over to Slaanesh, from the north, the skaven clan Pestilens boils up from underground in its grotesque multitudes, the undead of the Vampire Coast commit to a serious offensive against the nearby temple-city of Huatl, the Scar of Xahutec vomits forth legions of warpspawn as it did in times past, and dozens of ork warbands blunder into the jungles, their primitive instincts drawn to the many raging battles. In the midst of this chaos, the slaan peer into the mists of fate and find them a nigh-incomprehensible storm, as multiple competing destinies fight for the fate of the world and all in it. It is impossible to say who will come out on top, and perhaps in that unmitigated chaos there is opportunity...
[Unknown casualties during evacuation. Unlocks additional options]
Ah, it seems my blatant manipulation of SV's voting patterns has born fruit. I'll leave the vote open until tomorrow sometime since I won't be able to do anything then anyhow, but I'm fairly certain I know what's winning unless some drastic vote reversal happens.
I should note that we're in the prologue for a reason, however.
I'm a dumb dumb. What is this quest about? Is it a last hurrah against inevitable defeat? Is it a bridge between WH and AoS? Or is it a quest set on insane difficulty but when a chance of turning the tide, however slim?
Remember what the lizardmen ended up doing in canon End Times?
This may be the end of the world, but it's only the beginning.
Also the title of the quest is somewhat of a hint.
What you're picking here is who will end up in control of the world in your absence. Which is why the skaven ending up in control will end up with them being a bigger threat than chaos, because if the Warp subsumes the planet that's it, but if the skaven get their claws on the works of the Old Ones and manage to figure out how to reverse-engineer them...
[X] Chaos - The eternal enemy has arisen once again, and this time the foes that stopped it in ages past are feeble compared to their past might, undone by time and their own mortality. Archaon the Everchosen has smashed the Old World to flinders and beseiged Ulthuan with the ultimate goal of destroying the Vortex, allowing the raw stuff of Chaos to subsume the world. The lizardmen stand as one of the last bastions of order in the world, and are being assaulted near-constantly by endless armies of daemons and the mortal servants of the Ruinous Powers from both the north and south. The geomantic web still holds, but it is only a matter of time before the Everchosen undoes the work of the Asur and lets the Warp swallow the world.
[High casualties during evacuation, but the Chaos Gods are fickle and will likely ignore the world after they subsume it]
'Cause I wanna skip the old nuts stuff and see how things turn out once the Lizards enter the Grim Darkness of the 41st Millenium (judging by the tags and title).
Seconded; I want to cut losses and start from the fresh page.
[X] Chaos - The eternal enemy has arisen once again, and this time the foes that stopped it in ages past are feeble compared to their past might, undone by time and their own mortality. Archaon the Everchosen has smashed the Old World to flinders and beseiged Ulthuan with the ultimate goal of destroying the Vortex, allowing the raw stuff of Chaos to subsume the world. The lizardmen stand as one of the last bastions of order in the world, and are being assaulted near-constantly by endless armies of daemons and the mortal servants of the Ruinous Powers from both the north and south. The geomantic web still holds, but it is only a matter of time before the Everchosen undoes the work of the Asur and lets the Warp swallow the world.
[High casualties during evacuation, but the Chaos Gods are fickle and will likely ignore the world after they subsume it]
Literally only two people voted for something other then ??? (me and ctulhuslp) and your only fairly certain? I can't help but wonder what your criteria with "I absolutely know" is now...
Literally only two people voted for something other then ??? (me and ctulhuslp) and your only fairly certain? I can't help but wonder what your criteria with "I absolutely know" is now...
only life I have moulded from clay, my hands, and my lifeblood may be absolute in my eyes
I posted without looking to see if anyone else had posted, so as far as I knew there very well could've been a turnaround.
The next post may be up tonight, but more likely sometime tomorrow.
If you know anything about promises I make, you know to take that with a hefty amount of salt.
[X] ??? - It is impossible to tell. Everywhere there is war of a scale never seen, as all the inhabitants of the world battle for not only their lives, but their very fates. Human, elf, dwarf, ogre, greenskin, undead, skaven, halfling, ancient monster, and daemon, all battle against the forces that seek to destroy their destinies. Ulthuan battles against Naagaroth as the Witch-King seeks to finally realize his ambitions, the Old World fights a desperate battle against the Everchosen and all the might of Chaos, undead legions clash in the Southlands, the Ogre Kingdoms scrap with ancient beasts awakened by the storm, the dawi zharr fight a grinding battle against one of the largest hordes of orks the world has ever seen, the skaven are everywhere looking for opportunities to exploit, and in the east, Cathay deals with all of these problems and the issue of their populace being increasingly corrupted by the Changer of Ways. Even as the saurus fight off hordes of daemons and daemongors cascading from the southern Chaos Wastes and the Cult of Pleasure of the druuchi, now given fully over to Slaanesh, from the north, the skaven clan Pestilens boils up from underground in its grotesque multitudes, the undead of the Vampire Coast commit to a serious offensive against the nearby temple-city of Huatl, the Scar of Xahutec vomits forth legions of warpspawn as it did in times past, and dozens of ork warbands blunder into the jungles, their primitive instincts drawn to the many raging battles. In the midst of this chaos, the slaan peer into the mists of fate and find them a nigh-incomprehensible storm, as multiple competing destinies fight for the fate of the world and all in it. It is impossible to say who will come out on top, and perhaps in that unmitigated chaos there is opportunity...
[Unknown casualties during evacuation. Unlocks additional options]
[X] ??? - It is impossible to tell. Everywhere there is war of a scale never seen, as all the inhabitants of the world battle for not only their lives, but their very fates. Human, elf, dwarf, ogre, greenskin, undead, skaven, halfling, ancient monster, and daemon, all battle against the forces that seek to destroy their destinies. Ulthuan battles against Naagaroth as the Witch-King seeks to finally realize his ambitions, the Old World fights a desperate battle against the Everchosen and all the might of Chaos, undead legions clash in the Southlands, the Ogre Kingdoms scrap with ancient beasts awakened by the storm, the dawi zharr fight a grinding battle against one of the largest hordes of orks the world has ever seen, the skaven are everywhere looking for opportunities to exploit, and in the east, Cathay deals with all of these problems and the issue of their populace being increasingly corrupted by the Changer of Ways. Even as the saurus fight off hordes of daemons and daemongors cascading from the southern Chaos Wastes and the Cult of Pleasure of the druuchi, now given fully over to Slaanesh, from the north, the skaven clan Pestilens boils up from underground in its grotesque multitudes, the undead of the Vampire Coast commit to a serious offensive against the nearby temple-city of Huatl, the Scar of Xahutec vomits forth legions of warpspawn as it did in times past, and dozens of ork warbands blunder into the jungles, their primitive instincts drawn to the many raging battles. In the midst of this chaos, the slaan peer into the mists of fate and find them a nigh-incomprehensible storm, as multiple competing destinies fight for the fate of the world and all in it. It is impossible to say who will come out on top, and perhaps in that unmitigated chaos there is opportunity...
[Unknown casualties during evacuation. Unlocks additional options]
Huh, I did forget to notify some folks who might be interested in this, didn't I? Well, my internet's currently down but I'll facilitate that whenever it gets back on.
[X] ??? - It is impossible to tell. Everywhere there is war of a scale never seen, as all the inhabitants of the world battle for not only their lives, but their very fates. Human, elf, dwarf, ogre, greenskin, undead, skaven, halfling, ancient monster, and daemon, all battle against the forces that seek to destroy their destinies. Ulthuan battles against Naagaroth as the Witch-King seeks to finally realize his ambitions, the Old World fights a desperate battle against the Everchosen and all the might of Chaos, undead legions clash in the Southlands, the Ogre Kingdoms scrap with ancient beasts awakened by the storm, the dawi zharr fight a grinding battle against one of the largest hordes of orks the world has ever seen, the skaven are everywhere looking for opportunities to exploit, and in the east, Cathay deals with all of these problems and the issue of their populace being increasingly corrupted by the Changer of Ways. Even as the saurus fight off hordes of daemons and daemongors cascading from the southern Chaos Wastes and the Cult of Pleasure of the druuchi, now given fully over to Slaanesh, from the north, the skaven clan Pestilens boils up from underground in its grotesque multitudes, the undead of the Vampire Coast commit to a serious offensive against the nearby temple-city of Huatl, the Scar of Xahutec vomits forth legions of warpspawn as it did in times past, and dozens of ork warbands blunder into the jungles, their primitive instincts drawn to the many raging battles. In the midst of this chaos, the slaan peer into the mists of fate and find them a nigh-incomprehensible storm, as multiple competing destinies fight for the fate of the world and all in it. It is impossible to tell who will come out on top, and perhaps in that unmitigated chaos there is opportunity...
[Unknown casualties during evacuation, unlocks additional options]
The Chaos Moon loomed large in the skies over Lustria, as it had for months now. Its evil radiance shone down into the jungles below, piercing through the dense canopy to illuminate the carnage below in primal green light, the corruptive magic given off by its presence seeping into all it touched, twisting and changing both flora and fauna at the most intimate level. Overnight beastmen troupes gestated, grown from the mutated forms of those few mammals that managed to survive within Lustria's jungles. As their musculature swelled and twisted horns sprouted from their foreheads, their souls were infused with a powerful, overriding hatred by the dark gods who owned them, and their baying forms, now a far cry from their original selves, stampeded into the night, hooting and hollering at the prospect of tearing down their ancient enemy. They were but one ingredient in the cauldron of strife that the continent had become in recent times.
The slaan had sensed the danger first. Lord Mazdamundi's keen ethereal senses detected something just south of the chaos wastes, on a mountain that straddled the gap between the mortal and divine. A great surge of dhar conglomerated around the slopes of the mountain, and hordes of neverborn gathered in its spiritual vicinity, cavorting with glee in the manner of their kind. Knowing such omens to be potentially disastrous, the Lord of Sunlight called a great many of his lesser kin to his side and soared to the mountain with them in tow, the concentrated force of their spirits unmaking lesser daemons that dared cross their path. There they struck great blows against the unsuspecting hosts of daemons, and after a great struggle, scattered them to the far corners of the aethyr. With the daemons banished they could see the subject of the neverborn's curiosity - a lone human, walking unsteadily up the mountainside. Corrupted strands of fate swam thick around his form, coiling around his limbs and throat with a binding grip. Knowing immediately that if the warmblood were allowed to reach the peak of the mountain, calamity would befall the world, Mazdamundi communed with his underlings and channeled their combined power into vast rays of invisible force that seared toward the human's vulnerable form. They were immediately met with opposition; the attention of the Ruinous Powers was focused on this moment and they beset the slaan with further hosts of daemons born from their ire, and the lesser slaan were forced to break off their effort in order to defend their elder. Mazdamundi alone perservered, blasting instead at the coils of fate binding the mortal's limbs with all the power he had at his disposal, causing his corporeal form to twitch and grimace in concentration. He was aided by other powers, conglomerations of the thoughts of mortals that had taken on the forms their followers thought of them. Golden hammer, frost-tipped claws, hundred-handed swords, a host of gods from across the world railed against the Powers of Chaos. After what seemed an aeon, the chains of fate had been struck from the mortal's form, and the slaan viewed their moment in exhausted satisfaction. The manipulation of the dark gods had been thwarted, and the world had been saved.
The mortal took a step forward, of his own free will, and Mazdamundi's heart was flooded with confusion and shock. His concentration wavered, and a great flood of primordial triumph flooded across the immaterium, throwing the exhasted slaan back to their bodies. Mazdamundi's ears were soon filled with the concerned chittering of his skink attendants, who fretted over his health even as the cries of the other slaan washed across his body and soul, asking for assistance as the Chaos Wastes bulged and swelled with dark power, and reporting the erratic presence of the Warpstone Moon growing disturbingly close to the planet. Mazdamundi could feel its foul aura crackling on his skin even then, and knew with a glum inevitability that the Ruinous Powers had won in that moment. The four gods had, for the moment, unity, and his own elders that had faced against the combined might of the gods in ages past were all dead. The End Times had come.
Soon afterwards the dark powers made their move. Even as the Sublime Communion attempted to hold off the encroaching presence of the Chaos Moon, which dampened their concentration and ability to work magic effectively, the Scar of Xahutec tore itself open, vomiting forth legions of daemons affiliated with both the Changer of Ways and the Blood God. Resources were diverted from nearby temple-cities to stem the incursion even as the daemons began parasitizing off of the geomantic web, draining its power to maintain their presence. They were soon met by the full fury of the lizardmen, great hosts of saurus, skinks, and kroxigor headed by Tetto'eko, the venerated skink priest of Tlaxtlan, who brought with him a great contingent of one hundred other skink priests, to supply magical support against the neverborn while the slaan held back the emerald moon.
Guttural roars were issued and echoed on both sides as battle was joined. The saurus fought under the protection of a great line of bastilodons bearing Engines of the Gods, which thrummed and glowed in eerie colors as they held back the tainted magic in the air. The khornate contingent of the daemonic host gladly charged such a target, and were met by the immortal fury of the saurus bolstered by the amber magic channeled by fifty skink priests. Midnight blades bit deep into scaled flesh only to be countered by obsinite axes and hulking jaws, which ripped and tore and ruined daemonic essence as they had been born to do. Here and there Bloodthirsters joined the fray as the lizardmen advanced upon the tainted temple-city, ripping through ordered battle lines with savage ease before becoming locked in combat with saurus oldbloods, gnarled beasts who had seen many such foes and lived to tell the tale. Tetto'eko and his brethren who wielded Azyr conducted a grand duel against the nine Lords of Change who stepped forth from the Scar, each individually more than a match for any skink priest but not against the combined efforts of fifty-one, who smote them with lightning and wind and stellar debris.
As the battle at Xahutec ground onward, neither side tiring nor wavering in morale, other threats made themselves known to the Children of the Old Ones. Great hosts of dragon ogres awoke in crackling storm across the length of the Spine of Sotek, and plunged into the jungle swollen with electricity, the storm seeming to follow them, and only growing more intense the more they fought. From the north came a great fleet of degenerate elves, sworn wholly to the Prince of Pleasure and swollen with the power of the Warp. Carrying a great many dark sorceresses in their ranks, headed by a monstrously powerful specimen calling herself Morathi, the dark elves struck at Hexoatl and the surrounding areas in a great wave of perfumed raids, headed by tides of daemons summoned from their Black Arks. They sought to corrupt and loot for themselves the manifold treasures the lizardmen protected, and Kroq-gar was hard-pressed to catch most of their forces, let alone bring them to battle, even as the druuchi sorceresses tore open more and more warp rifts at auspicious sites. In the south, a gargantuan bridge of moaning flesh stretched grotesquely from the southern chaos wastes to Lustria's southernmost tip, allowing an endless horde of daemongors, beastmen that had bred with the children of their gods, onto the continent. Available force to stop their advance was limited, and they spread north like a tide of bile, daemons of all four gods amongst their ranks. They warred not only against the lizardmen, but against Lustria itself, the jungle raging against their existence with every step they took. Vines ensnared their limbs, countless venomous creatures and biting insects assaulted their tainted flesh, and the deadly predators of Lustria reacted to their presence as they would an incessant itch: they tore it out, shining fangs and snapping jaws becoming the end of many a careless gor.
As their homes erupted in warfare, the slaan struggled mightily against the encroachment of the Chaos Moon, their concentration so intense that they were totally unaware of when their temples were forced to be evacuated, their servants carrying their heavy palanquins out by hand and guarding their mystic forms with their lives. But though the slaan threw their whole being into the fight, they were powerless to stop the Chaos Moon, for the curse the Ruinous Powers had placed upon their kind long ago had intensified, and nearly all of their number were trapped in a cloying slumber. Bolstered by the combined power of 99 Lords of Change summoned across the globe, the Chaos Moon loomed large over Lustria, surpressing the powers of the slaan and dampening the geomantic web with its corrosive aura. Despite all this, the lizardmen were holding. Wandering ork warbands washed ashore by the dozen, the undead inhabitants of the Vampire Coast beseiged Huatl, and the tides of the Enemy grew stronger by the day, but by the strength of scale and fang, the continent was being held.
And then the skaven erupted from below cursed Quetza, and everything changed.
The ratmen had been bitter foes of the lizardmen for many centuries, but their principal weakness had always been their inherent disunity. Each skaven thought of themselves as better than the others, and perpetually schemed to achieve power over the rest of their kin. They would betray each other at the first opportunity, and so though their loathsome numbers made them a threat, they could never achieve the horrors they were capable of if they cooperated. Not so now - the vermintide that rose from Quetza's underbelly was comprised of a mix of their horrid clans, hosting not only the plague-clad machinery the lizardmen had encountered before, but other vile things, different aspects of their wretched ingenuity: crackling machines filled with warp-lightning, legions of bloated monsters stiched and stapled together, cohorts of assassins that wove shadows around their fur to hide themselves, and above all, endless numbers of skaven footsoldiers, armed and armored uniformly and marching with discipline in their spines. This was no mere clan seizing an opportunity they had spied - this was the full might of the Skaven Under-Empire, a world power realized only by the intervention of the divine, the youngest race rising up to crush the oldest.
Itza was beseiged, as was Xlanhuapec, its coiling mists availing nothing against the sheer numbers of the Vermintide. The armies of the two cities, retaining bitter memories of fighting skaven from their last incursion centuries ago, surged against the legions of ratmen, tearing into their frenzied masses with inborn instinct. Nakai the Wanderer made an appearance at Itza, holding a vital chokepoint alone against fifty thousand stormvermin and coming out with merely scratches, while Chakax, Xlanhuapec's Eternity Warden, foiled the assassination attempts of more than a hundred master Eshin Assassins, his keen eye and brutal halberd quickly becoming the end of even the best of the skaven. But in attacking the centerpoint of the lizardmen defences, the skaven had created a weakness that all their other enemies did not hesitate to exploit. Ork Waaagh!!!s formed in the jungle, crashing against numerous sacred sites. More and more daemons were summoned as the forces of chaos crashed against Lustria from both north and south, and the storm that accompanied the dragon ogres grew intense enough to rip trees out of the ground, the beasts growing so empowered by lightning that they were able to triumph against an entire herd of Thunder Lizards. Little by little, the toll was taken upon the lizardmen, and they were pushed out of their less defensible sites, forced to retreat back to the four temple-cities that still possessed their full defensive capabilities - Itza, Hexoatl, Xlanhuapec, and Tlaxtlan. The power of the geomantic web grew weak as the forces of disorder looted and pillaged architecture that had stood for over ten thousand years, and as the storm of chaos raged ever more intensely, the slaan awoke from their meditations, now useless.
Mazdamundi and the other four remaining second generation slaan - Chaacalot of Xlanuapec, Zaqunda of Itza, Adohi-Tegha of Tlaxtlan and Huintenuchli whos city had been lost - surveyed Lustria with their astral forms and found no hope. Daemons cavorted over the continent as they had in the Great Catastrophe, the skaven horde grew larger by the day as more ratmen emerged from under Quetza, and the bulk of the daemongor horde was but a few days travel from the walls of Itza. The Great Plan had failed, Mazdamundi proclaimed, his heart heavy with despair. There was nothing left to do but take as many of the enemy with them as possible. His thoughts rippled throughout the Sublime Communion, and all agreed - offense was impossible, defence untenable. This was the end of their kind.
In the quiet that pervaded the linking of minds, one voice spoke. It was almost impossible to hear over the tumultuous roars of the winds of magic, withered as it was from immense age and disuse. At first it was thought to be the stray thoughts of a sleeping fifth generation, but as it continued to speak it gained volume, quickly becoming echoed by the younger slaan who had not succumbed to the curse of Chaos. As the slaan listened, it spoke in a voice of bone and dust of ancient contingencies prepared long ago, of ways to channel the power of the geomantic web in complexities none of them had ever considered before. It spoke of salvation, and hope beyond the stars. It spoke of escape.
As the forces of darkness encroached ever closer towards the last bastions of the lizardmen, the slaan bent what remained of their power towards this last hope, granted by a Relic Priest older than even Mazdamundi. They tapped deep into the earth, and the lines of power percieved by the Old Ones long ago thrummed in response, connecting the four cities together with paths of glowing light. The slaan put all their force, all their concentration, into this ritual, the air sparking around them as they channeled arcane power beyond the imaginings of lesser beings into the leylines that ran between their cities. As the accumulated power grew, the daemons of chaos attempted to corrupt and sabotage this working, but were incinerated the moment they laid even a pseudopod upon the lines of coruscating energy that sparked through the jungle. The ritual intensified, and the gods of chaos sent four great legions of daemons to assault the temple-cities, for although they did not know the purpose of the working, they wished it to fail. They were met by all the remaining might of the lizardmen, the forces of a continent-spanning empire condensed into four locations. The might of the daemons, the numbers of the skaven, the ferocity of the daemongors, the barbarity of the orks and the primeval weight of the dragon ogres were inviolate against the bastions of order the four cities had become, each throwing back multiple legions at once again and again and again.
Sent forth by Tzeentch himself, Kairos Fateweaver cast his psychic hold onto Morrslieb and drew it dangerously close to the world, aided by his 99 attendant Lords of Change. The Chaos Moon hung so low in the sky it obscured half the horizon, searing the air with mutagenic power. Drunk on victory, Kairos cawed a horrible laugh, for he had seen with his foresight that this would ensure the slaan's plan would fail, and unlike any other time, the Architect of Fate was disinclined to send him a false vision of the future.
Instead, defeat came from outside of Tzeentch's court. Be'lakor, the first daemon prince of Chaos Undivided, had long held bitterness towards his masters in his heart, and saw now an opportunity to both destroy the hated lizards and deny victory to his master's pets. Even as he emerged from the shadows behind Karios' manifested form and stabbed him in the back, his voice echoed in the ears of the skaven manning a terrible superweapon constructed by the Under-Empire's accumulated resources. Quickly becoming subsumed with rage at the percieved slights dealt to him by his fellows, the skaven activated the colossal warp cannon, wrenching it from its moorings and aiming it straight up into the sky. Cackling with insane glee, he slammed his fist down on the bright red activation button, and was promptly atomized as the cannon discharged a monstrous beam of searing energy that soared up into the upper atmosphere and impacted the warpstone moon. Initially there was no response from the celestial object, but soon its surface was rent by country-sized chasms as the energy injected into it by the Morskittar Gun grew to many times its initial dose, eventually exploding out of multiple hemispheres like a great green corona, cracking Morrslieb in two, leaving it to tumble down towards the planet.
The skink priests that looked skywards and saw this phenomenon were alarmed, to say the least.
The Chaos Moon has been cracked in half and is plummeting down onto the planet. If it is allowed to impact, it will not only wipe out all life on the planet, but also irreparably damage and destroy the works of the Old Ones. Something must be done. What do you choose?
[] Ignore It - The Ritual of Evacuation is almost complete, and diverting slaan attention to stop the moon carries the risk of delaying its completion. To preserve the lives of the slaan, and what infastructure remains, the ritual must proceed, even if the rest of the planet dies.
[Evacuation successful with no slaan casualties. Most of the planet's surface will be destroyed, and any hope of later recovering the plans of the Old Ones will be lost.]
[] Mitigate It - The evacuation must proceed, but the world the Old Ones so carefully shaped cannot be simply abandoned. The slaan will attempt to break up the falling moonshards into smaller pieces, and divert the larger pieces away from collision with the planet's surface. Such an effort will delay the ritual and some of the younger slaan will no doubt perish from the effort, but it is worth it to preserve what remains of the works of the Old Ones.
[Evacuation successful with moderate slaan casualties. The planet's surface will be damaged by the moonfall, but the works of the Old Ones will be preserved.]
[] Destroy It - The Chaos Moon cannot be allowed to impact - even if mostly diverted it will still irreversibly corrupt the world with shards of dhar, and ensure that the taint in the earth will never be purged. Even if it places the evacuation in danger, even though many of the slaan will die from the strain, the moon must be destroyed.
[Evacuation successful with high slaan casualties. Impact on the planet will be minimal, and perhaps the mortals still fighting against the forces of darkness will be able to eke out a victory.]
Unlocked by Previous Choice:
[] ??? - The same voice from before, echoing dimly from the darkest catacombs of Itza where hundreds of Relic Priests sit silently, speaks again in this hour of crisis. Its message is simple this time, comprised of only one word fraught with meaning. To put trust in it may be to doom the entirety of the lizardmen, but if fate falls in the correct pattern, it promises...
[Deliverance?]
[X] Mitigate It - The evacuation must proceed, but the world the Old Ones so carefully shaped cannot be simply abandoned. The slaan will attempt to break up the falling moonshards into smaller pieces, and divert the larger pieces away from collision with the planet's surface. Such an effort will delay the ritual and some of the younger slaan will no doubt perish from the effort, but it is worth it to preserve what remains of the works of the Old Ones.
No more ???
lol nvm
[X] ??? - The same voice from before, echoing dimly from the darkest catacombs of Itza where hundreds of Relic Priests sit silently, speaks again in this hour of crisis. Its message is simple this time, comprised of only one word fraught with meaning. To put trust in it may be to doom the entirety of the lizardmen, but if fate falls in the correct pattern, it promises...
[X] ??? - The same voice from before, echoing dimly from the darkest catacombs of Itza where hundreds of Relic Priests sit silently, speaks again in this hour of crisis. Its message is simple this time, comprised of only one word fraught with meaning. To put trust in it may be to doom the entirety of the lizardmen, but if fate falls in the correct pattern, it promises...
[X] ??? - The same voice from before, echoing dimly from the darkest catacombs of Itza where hundreds of Relic Priests sit silently, speaks again in this hour of crisis. Its message is simple this time, comprised of only one word fraught with meaning. To put trust in it may be to doom the entirety of the lizardmen, but if fate falls in the correct pattern, it promises...
[Deliverance?]
More ??? choices were the entire reason that path was chosen, no? Might as well take the the bait hook, line and sinker.
[X] ??? - The same voice from before, echoing dimly from the darkest catacombs of Itza where hundreds of Relic Priests sit silently, speaks again in this hour of crisis. Its message is simple this time, comprised of only one word fraught with meaning. To put trust in it may be to doom the entirety of the lizardmen, but if fate falls in the correct pattern, it promises...
[X] ??? - The same voice from before, echoing dimly from the darkest catacombs of Itza where hundreds of Relic Priests sit silently, speaks again in this hour of crisis. Its message is simple this time, comprised of only one word fraught with meaning. To put trust in it may be to doom the entirety of the lizardmen, but if fate falls in the correct pattern, it promises...
