Revolt-Revolution, Yes-Yes!
Revolt-Revolution, Yes-Yes! (CK2 Skaven Post-Revolution Quest)
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- Pronouns
- They/Them
Revolt-Revolution, Yes-Yes! (CK2 Skaven Post-Revolution Quest)
All Empires fall. All Empires crumble, one day or another. Man-things are not alone in fading and falling. It is said the rot-failure crept in little by little. But when the Under-Empire fell it did so quick-quick. The Horned Rat is no-good master, and then the Horned Rat is dead. All Skaven know it, all at once.
The Under-Empire collapsed and what remained were a thousand pieces and a million shards… and from below, the rumbling of hungry bellies and ambitious Skaven. But this time it was different, at least in one place. This time, one of the revolts hoped--dreamed, perhaps foolishly--for more-better.
The Musk of Fear faded and the Musk of Battle dominated even when the overseer-oppressors struck down against rat-Skavens who had learned-suffered to keep their heads down. And yet they did not flee-surrender.
The Under-Empire is dead, the Horned Rat is gone. What next?
Options
[] The Skavenblight Republic
Nowhere in all of the Under-Empire was the chaos and destruction as great as in Skavenblight. The Clans dissolved and fell to pieces in this meeting place, and a cunning and ambitious set of revolutionaries took advantage of this. The pieces of these former clans forged a weapon which broke the chains, which lifted the poorest and weakest up… but the very broken chains that were cast aside can be reforged, and already some Skaven bicker-worry about whether "Guilds" of Assassins or "Unions" of Warp Technologists are not simply Eshens and Skyre wearing a slightly different guise.
Pros
--The Center of An Empire: There are many who still look to Skavenblight to see what it means to be a Skaven, and it is a center of trade.
--Manufacturies: It is the center of a great deal of unrest and worker resentment… a bad thing in the past, but now it places it at the center of a decent amount of production.
--A little of everything: Assassins, beast-moulders, warriors, workers of all kinds, scientists… the revolution has swept up a diverse and powerful skillset, with none of the limitations and weaknesses of coming from a single clan.
--Many-Many, Yes-Yes: There are many Skaven to build on in the capital, hundreds and hundreds of thousands!
Cons
--The Center of An Empire: Those who look towards Skavenblight do not just do so with eyes of hope-obedience, but also envy-jealousy, and some of those will seak to unseat you.
--"Clans' Return?": Worries are already sprouting that these new organizations will simply lead to a return of the clans in their most horrific forms.
--Devastation: What killed the Horned Rat and destroyed the Under-Empire is partially unknown, but what isn't unknown is that Skavenblight has suffered potentially fatal damage.
--Many-Many, Yes-Yes: So many Skaven risks the Musk of Battle getting out of control, and risks starvation and desperation, fear and Warpstone-madness and worse getting out of control. You sit atop a bubbling, boiling cauldron.
[] The Army of Liberation
Beneath Karak 8-Peaks, Clan Mors fell apart as news came from Skavenblight. The lowliest and the most desperate in the clan joined with ambitious warriors seeking promotion, and those who discovered the secrets of Gnawdell's control were most vicious in fighting against it. Clan Mors is no more, and at least in theory all of Mors is now united as an army of liberty, freeing the slaves* and recreating themselves thanks to some bold and perhaps crazy ideas into a new vision… but is it one that has room for anything but war, and will the temptation of the secret-lies that Gnawdell used.
*Unless they're non-Skaven, of course!
Pros
--Democratic Weherstat: The Army of Liberty is powerful indeed. Morale is high, at least for now, and the unity of the Skaven military forces is higher than ever.
--An Ideology To Unify: One of the many rats that were integrated into the growing Clan Mors had strange and very weird ideas. Dangerous ideas of new ways to organize all of society, to end oppressions of all kinds, from the lowly slaves--though there are asterisks there being thrown around--to the women of the Skaven and more.
--Dissent Almost Nonexistent: There are few that object to this new order of things… at least, few that were still left alive. Perhaps that might change, but for now the field is quite clear.
--The Mors Cache: Clan Mors was planning quite a lot, and there are a few goodies stolen or borrowed from other Clans tucked away here and there.
Cons
--"Democratic Wehrstaat?": What about the civilians? What about them, some soldiers say. It is going to be very easy to slip into being such an army that only soldiers get to vote, and everyone is a soldier… some may see this as a plus, but the risks are great.
--Thunderdome: Orcs nearby, Goblins at one's back, and those dwarves are still there, still taking their time to die.
--Warpstone Shortages: The one thing they don't have enough of is Warpstone. They're running frustratingly low on it, thanks to very bad luck. Something needs to be done.
--Mor or Less: Even with Clan Mors habit of picking up anyone who could join, the new government lacks the best assassins, the best shapers of flesh, the best magic-users… none of these are areas of total weakness, but.
[] The People's Republic of Under-Altdorf
Somehow, everyone knows it has to be Thanquol behind all of this. But whatever the specifics, what really matters is that with the death of the Horned Rat and the collapse of the Under-Empire, there were months in which the "New Skavenblight" attempted to keep itself together. But the Manlings seem to have learned of the weakness of Under-Altdorf, and war came. And as the imitation of all the failings of Skavenkind lost and lost and lost, eventually a revolution came, both of the workers producing the goods to fight and the common warriors themselves. Together they have managed to overthrow the ruling Clans and establish a new vision of what might be done.
But still they do not have peace, and they are fighting a war that many fear they cannot win. As the People's Republic seethes with those both for and against surrender, those who seek to find accommodation and those who simply want to see Altdorf buried and burned for what it has done… dark enemies lurk among the Skaven.
Pros
--A Strong Basis: The government is founded in the ex-slaves, in the workers of the many manufactories, and in the warriors who fight the war. This is a strong basis for control and influence.
--Under-Altdorf: The wealth of this "New Skavenblight" is famous, and even after the devastation caused by Thanquol's mistakes, and its decline, it is rich and powerful… and has seen far less devastation than Skavenblight proper, cut off and with a fate unknown.
--Warehouses: Warehouses filled with goods meant for Skavenblight or the rest of the Under-Empire mean that even after months of brutal and pointless war, Under-Altdorf does not lack for basic resources and even food… for now.
--A Rock And A Hard Place: The very fact of the weaknesses… is also a fact of strength. There are few other options, at least in the short term, than to work with the government that exists now or face extermination.
Cons
--Thanquol?!: Thanquol has made many-many-many-many enemies. At least some of them might well think that harming Under-Altdorf is a way to get revenge on him, especially as he has seemed to have disappeared in the chaos.
--An Empire of Difference: The Empire presses in, clearly and gloriously certain of its victory to come in, wiping you out. Can you prevent them and save the Skaven of Under-Altdorf?
--Chaos Within: While there's no active dissent in the sense of revolts, there's a great deal of disagreement among the revolutionaries about what to do.
--Time Limit: While the storehouses are great, they are not endless… and Under-Atldorf is a city that thrives on trade and slave-raiding, on interactions with the world at large. If this is not restored, then it will fall.
[] The Republic of Beasts
The lower mutators have always been looked down on. The Horned Rat knows the order of things, crawl up the broken ladder or die! In the Hell Pit this resentment grew and grew… and when word came that the Horned Rat was dead, one rat-Skaven asked a question-question! "We can make-create life, what made Horned-Rat so special?" He died, but revolt soon followed, and now all of the Hell Pit has successfully risen in revolt. With their ability to create beasts to serve their every need, and the very power over life itself, the ruling Elected Council now seeks to surpass all others and seeks in its "hubris" to end the suffering and misery that life has been for the Skaven.
Pros
--Beasts Die, Not Skaven: The Hell Pits produce the war-beasts for a dozen Clans, and now for the Skaven themselves. This will give the Skaven some ability to… lay off on throwing their underclasses into certain death.
--Biology!: New ideas are cropping up, from better ways to have children without all the horrors performed on breeders to the creation of animal-beasts to help free the common Skaven from work.
--A Conservative Republic:It is a very stable and acceptable government by many Skaven standards. It is better and more free, but it keeps to many of the hierarchies that the Skaven are used to.
--The Fervor of A Zealot: Those who reject the Gods are very fervent in it, and this fervor animates and empowers them in a way.
Cons
--A Conservative Republic: On the other hand, treating non-Skaven like people, doing more than legal reforms against the backstabbing and treachery of Skavendom, and all manner of other social reforms is far more difficult when the structure has hardened to this extent.
--Belief Needed?: Despite this there are some who say otherwise, who reject the rule and word of this Elected Council, and instead seek to find a new God or Gods to worship instead of the Horned Rat. Whether this is good or not, it has caused a great deal of tension between the radicals of different factions
--Grey Seer Animus: The Grey Seers hate you. A lot. A lot a lot. Beyond imagining. They will do anything to destroy you.
--Hunters: The need to gather more beasts means that your forces will spend a lot of time far afield, spread out and potentially making enemies just to keep the flow of monsters for experiments going.
[] The "Piebald Republic"
Once Clan Rictus controlled the Crookback Mountains, a powerful connection indeed and one which let them dominate trade and raid and destroy. But among the poor and desperate Skaven, the hungry Ogres, the vicious Orks, the Dawi Zharr that some call Chaos Dwarves, the Goblins and even stranger slaves, a revolt came. A slave revolt that toppled Clan Rictus and put together a coalition of just about every species… still led by Skaven, of course. Don't get too crazy… or maybe do, because they're surrounded by hundreds of enemies, yes-yes.
But together can they triumph-win?!
Pros
--From Many, One: The new hesitant slave-Republic is a coalition of essentially every species, preaching a sort of tolerance, even if it's flawed, that gives it access to the resources and skills and knowledge of a dozen races… potentially.
--Centerpiece: They are in one sense well-positioned, as far as Skaven locations go. Indeed, they sit atop some key trade routes, and it seems likely that Old World merchants would be very grateful to be able to pass through without facing incredibly heavy taxes and the fear of robbery.
--The Numbers: They have plenty of rats and non-rats alike, multitudes of former slaves that can now work together to build the future.
--Three Stooges Syndrome: The one thing you can say is that your enemies are divided and also hate each other. Perhaps they balance each other out?
Cons
--From Many, Many: Of course, all these different races competing and striving against each other hardly is without problems. A lot of problems. But hopefully you can work through them?
--Enemies Everywhere: Even when it's a slave revolt, there's a reason why you have so many diverse slaves… because the Skaven of the area have had so many diverse enemies. You don't lack for those seeking to murder you horribly.
--Enemies Everywhere 2: No seriously, just how many enemies did Clan Rictus make?!
--Infrastructure Woes: The city and warrens as they stand are not really built for this new multi-racial alliance. There's a lot that's not built for it, and a lot that will have to be adapted.
****
A/N: Did I think this through before making yet another quest? Yes and no. Did I think it through enough? Almost certainly not.
Vote will be open as long as it's open. I'm going to try to balance all the Quests I have, so we'll see how this goes.
All Empires fall. All Empires crumble, one day or another. Man-things are not alone in fading and falling. It is said the rot-failure crept in little by little. But when the Under-Empire fell it did so quick-quick. The Horned Rat is no-good master, and then the Horned Rat is dead. All Skaven know it, all at once.
The Under-Empire collapsed and what remained were a thousand pieces and a million shards… and from below, the rumbling of hungry bellies and ambitious Skaven. But this time it was different, at least in one place. This time, one of the revolts hoped--dreamed, perhaps foolishly--for more-better.
The Musk of Fear faded and the Musk of Battle dominated even when the overseer-oppressors struck down against rat-Skavens who had learned-suffered to keep their heads down. And yet they did not flee-surrender.
The Under-Empire is dead, the Horned Rat is gone. What next?
Options
[] The Skavenblight Republic
Nowhere in all of the Under-Empire was the chaos and destruction as great as in Skavenblight. The Clans dissolved and fell to pieces in this meeting place, and a cunning and ambitious set of revolutionaries took advantage of this. The pieces of these former clans forged a weapon which broke the chains, which lifted the poorest and weakest up… but the very broken chains that were cast aside can be reforged, and already some Skaven bicker-worry about whether "Guilds" of Assassins or "Unions" of Warp Technologists are not simply Eshens and Skyre wearing a slightly different guise.
Pros
--The Center of An Empire: There are many who still look to Skavenblight to see what it means to be a Skaven, and it is a center of trade.
--Manufacturies: It is the center of a great deal of unrest and worker resentment… a bad thing in the past, but now it places it at the center of a decent amount of production.
--A little of everything: Assassins, beast-moulders, warriors, workers of all kinds, scientists… the revolution has swept up a diverse and powerful skillset, with none of the limitations and weaknesses of coming from a single clan.
--Many-Many, Yes-Yes: There are many Skaven to build on in the capital, hundreds and hundreds of thousands!
Cons
--The Center of An Empire: Those who look towards Skavenblight do not just do so with eyes of hope-obedience, but also envy-jealousy, and some of those will seak to unseat you.
--"Clans' Return?": Worries are already sprouting that these new organizations will simply lead to a return of the clans in their most horrific forms.
--Devastation: What killed the Horned Rat and destroyed the Under-Empire is partially unknown, but what isn't unknown is that Skavenblight has suffered potentially fatal damage.
--Many-Many, Yes-Yes: So many Skaven risks the Musk of Battle getting out of control, and risks starvation and desperation, fear and Warpstone-madness and worse getting out of control. You sit atop a bubbling, boiling cauldron.
[] The Army of Liberation
Beneath Karak 8-Peaks, Clan Mors fell apart as news came from Skavenblight. The lowliest and the most desperate in the clan joined with ambitious warriors seeking promotion, and those who discovered the secrets of Gnawdell's control were most vicious in fighting against it. Clan Mors is no more, and at least in theory all of Mors is now united as an army of liberty, freeing the slaves* and recreating themselves thanks to some bold and perhaps crazy ideas into a new vision… but is it one that has room for anything but war, and will the temptation of the secret-lies that Gnawdell used.
*Unless they're non-Skaven, of course!
Pros
--Democratic Weherstat: The Army of Liberty is powerful indeed. Morale is high, at least for now, and the unity of the Skaven military forces is higher than ever.
--An Ideology To Unify: One of the many rats that were integrated into the growing Clan Mors had strange and very weird ideas. Dangerous ideas of new ways to organize all of society, to end oppressions of all kinds, from the lowly slaves--though there are asterisks there being thrown around--to the women of the Skaven and more.
--Dissent Almost Nonexistent: There are few that object to this new order of things… at least, few that were still left alive. Perhaps that might change, but for now the field is quite clear.
--The Mors Cache: Clan Mors was planning quite a lot, and there are a few goodies stolen or borrowed from other Clans tucked away here and there.
Cons
--"Democratic Wehrstaat?": What about the civilians? What about them, some soldiers say. It is going to be very easy to slip into being such an army that only soldiers get to vote, and everyone is a soldier… some may see this as a plus, but the risks are great.
--Thunderdome: Orcs nearby, Goblins at one's back, and those dwarves are still there, still taking their time to die.
--Warpstone Shortages: The one thing they don't have enough of is Warpstone. They're running frustratingly low on it, thanks to very bad luck. Something needs to be done.
--Mor or Less: Even with Clan Mors habit of picking up anyone who could join, the new government lacks the best assassins, the best shapers of flesh, the best magic-users… none of these are areas of total weakness, but.
[] The People's Republic of Under-Altdorf
Somehow, everyone knows it has to be Thanquol behind all of this. But whatever the specifics, what really matters is that with the death of the Horned Rat and the collapse of the Under-Empire, there were months in which the "New Skavenblight" attempted to keep itself together. But the Manlings seem to have learned of the weakness of Under-Altdorf, and war came. And as the imitation of all the failings of Skavenkind lost and lost and lost, eventually a revolution came, both of the workers producing the goods to fight and the common warriors themselves. Together they have managed to overthrow the ruling Clans and establish a new vision of what might be done.
But still they do not have peace, and they are fighting a war that many fear they cannot win. As the People's Republic seethes with those both for and against surrender, those who seek to find accommodation and those who simply want to see Altdorf buried and burned for what it has done… dark enemies lurk among the Skaven.
Pros
--A Strong Basis: The government is founded in the ex-slaves, in the workers of the many manufactories, and in the warriors who fight the war. This is a strong basis for control and influence.
--Under-Altdorf: The wealth of this "New Skavenblight" is famous, and even after the devastation caused by Thanquol's mistakes, and its decline, it is rich and powerful… and has seen far less devastation than Skavenblight proper, cut off and with a fate unknown.
--Warehouses: Warehouses filled with goods meant for Skavenblight or the rest of the Under-Empire mean that even after months of brutal and pointless war, Under-Altdorf does not lack for basic resources and even food… for now.
--A Rock And A Hard Place: The very fact of the weaknesses… is also a fact of strength. There are few other options, at least in the short term, than to work with the government that exists now or face extermination.
Cons
--Thanquol?!: Thanquol has made many-many-many-many enemies. At least some of them might well think that harming Under-Altdorf is a way to get revenge on him, especially as he has seemed to have disappeared in the chaos.
--An Empire of Difference: The Empire presses in, clearly and gloriously certain of its victory to come in, wiping you out. Can you prevent them and save the Skaven of Under-Altdorf?
--Chaos Within: While there's no active dissent in the sense of revolts, there's a great deal of disagreement among the revolutionaries about what to do.
--Time Limit: While the storehouses are great, they are not endless… and Under-Atldorf is a city that thrives on trade and slave-raiding, on interactions with the world at large. If this is not restored, then it will fall.
[] The Republic of Beasts
The lower mutators have always been looked down on. The Horned Rat knows the order of things, crawl up the broken ladder or die! In the Hell Pit this resentment grew and grew… and when word came that the Horned Rat was dead, one rat-Skaven asked a question-question! "We can make-create life, what made Horned-Rat so special?" He died, but revolt soon followed, and now all of the Hell Pit has successfully risen in revolt. With their ability to create beasts to serve their every need, and the very power over life itself, the ruling Elected Council now seeks to surpass all others and seeks in its "hubris" to end the suffering and misery that life has been for the Skaven.
Pros
--Beasts Die, Not Skaven: The Hell Pits produce the war-beasts for a dozen Clans, and now for the Skaven themselves. This will give the Skaven some ability to… lay off on throwing their underclasses into certain death.
--Biology!: New ideas are cropping up, from better ways to have children without all the horrors performed on breeders to the creation of animal-beasts to help free the common Skaven from work.
--A Conservative Republic:It is a very stable and acceptable government by many Skaven standards. It is better and more free, but it keeps to many of the hierarchies that the Skaven are used to.
--The Fervor of A Zealot: Those who reject the Gods are very fervent in it, and this fervor animates and empowers them in a way.
Cons
--A Conservative Republic: On the other hand, treating non-Skaven like people, doing more than legal reforms against the backstabbing and treachery of Skavendom, and all manner of other social reforms is far more difficult when the structure has hardened to this extent.
--Belief Needed?: Despite this there are some who say otherwise, who reject the rule and word of this Elected Council, and instead seek to find a new God or Gods to worship instead of the Horned Rat. Whether this is good or not, it has caused a great deal of tension between the radicals of different factions
--Grey Seer Animus: The Grey Seers hate you. A lot. A lot a lot. Beyond imagining. They will do anything to destroy you.
--Hunters: The need to gather more beasts means that your forces will spend a lot of time far afield, spread out and potentially making enemies just to keep the flow of monsters for experiments going.
[] The "Piebald Republic"
Once Clan Rictus controlled the Crookback Mountains, a powerful connection indeed and one which let them dominate trade and raid and destroy. But among the poor and desperate Skaven, the hungry Ogres, the vicious Orks, the Dawi Zharr that some call Chaos Dwarves, the Goblins and even stranger slaves, a revolt came. A slave revolt that toppled Clan Rictus and put together a coalition of just about every species… still led by Skaven, of course. Don't get too crazy… or maybe do, because they're surrounded by hundreds of enemies, yes-yes.
But together can they triumph-win?!
Pros
--From Many, One: The new hesitant slave-Republic is a coalition of essentially every species, preaching a sort of tolerance, even if it's flawed, that gives it access to the resources and skills and knowledge of a dozen races… potentially.
--Centerpiece: They are in one sense well-positioned, as far as Skaven locations go. Indeed, they sit atop some key trade routes, and it seems likely that Old World merchants would be very grateful to be able to pass through without facing incredibly heavy taxes and the fear of robbery.
--The Numbers: They have plenty of rats and non-rats alike, multitudes of former slaves that can now work together to build the future.
--Three Stooges Syndrome: The one thing you can say is that your enemies are divided and also hate each other. Perhaps they balance each other out?
Cons
--From Many, Many: Of course, all these different races competing and striving against each other hardly is without problems. A lot of problems. But hopefully you can work through them?
--Enemies Everywhere: Even when it's a slave revolt, there's a reason why you have so many diverse slaves… because the Skaven of the area have had so many diverse enemies. You don't lack for those seeking to murder you horribly.
--Enemies Everywhere 2: No seriously, just how many enemies did Clan Rictus make?!
--Infrastructure Woes: The city and warrens as they stand are not really built for this new multi-racial alliance. There's a lot that's not built for it, and a lot that will have to be adapted.
****
A/N: Did I think this through before making yet another quest? Yes and no. Did I think it through enough? Almost certainly not.
Vote will be open as long as it's open. I'm going to try to balance all the Quests I have, so we'll see how this goes.
Last edited:
Character Creation Part 1
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Character Creation Part 1: Choosing Archetype
A slave revolt led by lower-Skaven against Clan Rictus, yes-yes.
So that's where you are, but WHO are you?
Who is the new first Council Leader of this still-unnamed Republic?
Choose 1, may reuse one or two of the runners-up. Potentially. But each "Hero Moment" will only happen if chosen:
[] The Brood Guard: In Clan Rictus at least, the Broodmothers are guarded by female Brood Guards. While the vast majority of females, not chosen for the 'honor' of Broodmotherhood, are simply rendered infertile and released to be like any other Skaven, a small number are chosen for the "honor" of being the guards to these Broodmothers. You were one of these, and when revolution came you resisted attempts to further abuse those under your care and organized your comrats to fight a Stormvermin attack. Most of them died, but the Stormvermin broke, and your reputation as a hero was made!
But that's not why you rose to Council Leader, merely why you were on the Council. In a move that happened to be viewed by all, you kicked a highly respected and powerful Warlord trying to rally the Clan in the unmentionables, making him infertile and then swiftly dead. No mere Brood Guard should have been able to win a one-on-one contest with such a skilled Warlord.. But even more than that… The Orcs and Goblins all thought it hilarious, and so did the Ogres and the female-Manlings, though the male Manlings now look at you with suspicion.
Advantages:
--Brood Secrets: For better or worse, you've preserved the secret of how to make Broodmothers… which you don't want to use, and the secret to maintaining them better than others, which you'll have to use at least long enough to figure out what to do next, and how to unravel these horrors and find a better path.
--The Strength of the Protector: Brood Guards are taught by Stormvermin themselves, though of course a mere guard is not expected to have picked up more than bits and pieces. But you've picked up far more than most, and also picked up a great deal of tactics just by using your head.
--The Ears of the Guardian: It's amazing the kinds of things you hear, little tidbits and secrets, flowing into the ears of those that will hear.
--Guardian's Poise: By the standards of Manlings it is not much, but a guardian and guard of broodmothers needs to be able to keep a dignified (and subservient) silence, and this unnerves other Skaven used to chittering away.
[] The Cunning Slave: When one coordinates a revolution, one needs to find good places to hide, and needs to pass messages in secret. Who knew that being quite literate and knowing all the best places to party would pay off. You became a dark sort of glue binding the whole revolution together, spreading messages and passing off as harmless. Even that alone was enough to be known by enough people to, perhaps, scrape into the Council.
But then you assassinated the Chief of the whole Clan right at the start of the rebellion, starting a fight for leadership that weakened the power-brokers. Yes, it is supposedly a secret to prevent vengeance. No, it didn't stay actually secret for long.
Advantages
--In the Shadows: You are very good at being sneaky… as good as one can get without being one of those Eshin sneak-cheats.
--Secrets: You have heard a lot of secrets, and these secrets are a sort of currency you can spend to keep things together.
--Knowing Space: You know every corner of this place, thanks to your explorations. Well, not all of them, but there are worse things to know than the best hiding spots.
--Party Hard: You know how to party, and how to live it up. This can help open up ties.
[] The Talky Slave: The limit was always the Fire and Mountain Dwarves. The Orcs were down for a scrap, the Goblins were not so hard-difficult to talk around, the Ogres knew they would feast good-good on the flesh of the masters, the Manlings wanted freedom… but the Fire Dwarves wanted mastery. You went from one to the other to the other and forged an agreement to let the Fire and Mountain Dwarves go for the most part in exchange for their support, and in all you helped just barely bind it all together.
But while that is impressive, the enemies it made among Skaven might have doomed your attempt to rise yet further… except that with the Dwarves, two of the Manlings, and fast-talking to get the Night Goblins and Halflings around you were able to squeak by. Barely.
Advantages
--Everyone Friend…sorta: Even those who hate you, hate you slightly less than most Skaven. The ocean of hatred that Dwarves feel for all Skaven is a… slightly smaller ocean with you.
--Many Tongued: As part of the organizing, you learned many different tongues and can talk to many sorts.
--Hardy: To negotiate with Dwarves and Dragons and more requires being able to survive getting kicked around and attacked. You're good at withstanding a blow… and dodging one too.
[] Miner-Slave: In the rich mines of bronze and iron and other ores, you made your living… and your dying, and you helped lead a slowdown and then a collapse of production, and with the metal you were able to make weapons and overwhelm the guards. The revolt began at least in part because of your organizational skills, and your work with the Ogres made to work in the mines hauling heavy loads that a Skaven could not manage, or at least not the kind of Skaven you are, made you plenty of allies… and then you made even more.
But what actually pushed you from Council member to Council Leader was an accident. You tripped and fell down a supposedly used-up mining shaft, and managed to get away with some scrapes and… warpstone? Finding a new warpstone vein turned you into the pick of many-many Skaven, and then the Ogres convinced the Gnoblars, and a Manling and a Fire Dwarf were interested in the find, and it went from there!
--Extra Vein: You found more Warpstone! Not much more… but maybe it's the start of a rich vein?
--Clever Organizer: You are very good at figuring out how to organize people, if not always talking them around.
--Work-Born: Your experiences as a common slave working in the mines have told you a lot about one of the three pillars that allowed Clan Rictus to survive… the other of course being agriculture and warfare.
--Skaveny Thews: While you are not trained in battle, you are big for a Skaven, as little as that means, and strong from hauling goods and working every day of your life.
[] The Caste-Traitor Leader: You were a clerk, a clanrat technically but one who didn't fight much at all. But you were exhausted and overworked. Count the number of dead innocent Skaven, yes-yes, kill-kill five more for fun! You got sick of it, and when the revolution came you struck out in a bout of fury, killing your overseer and seizing all the records. You managed to carry off a few key bits of information. That alone would be enough to get you on the Council, considering some of the secrets you had.
But you also managed to make a few lucky guesses based on what you'd overheard in the office and passed along to the more militarily-skinned types.
Advantages
--Learned: You are smart-smart and clever-clever, an ink-stained clerk who has access to many-many documents.
--Secrets of the Seers: You have a few pieces of information and secrets the Seers had, not many but a scrap of the knowledge and lore.
--Nerd Rage: You are not at all good in a fight, but your vigor and enthusiasm has impressed some falsely with the reputation of someone who could be a passable warrior.
***
A/N: Brood Guard is locked in as female, all of the others you'll get a choice on that issue in the second half of the Character Creation, where you'll get to choose some traits, a name (subject to veto), and gender.
A slave revolt led by lower-Skaven against Clan Rictus, yes-yes.
So that's where you are, but WHO are you?
Who is the new first Council Leader of this still-unnamed Republic?
Choose 1, may reuse one or two of the runners-up. Potentially. But each "Hero Moment" will only happen if chosen:
[] The Brood Guard: In Clan Rictus at least, the Broodmothers are guarded by female Brood Guards. While the vast majority of females, not chosen for the 'honor' of Broodmotherhood, are simply rendered infertile and released to be like any other Skaven, a small number are chosen for the "honor" of being the guards to these Broodmothers. You were one of these, and when revolution came you resisted attempts to further abuse those under your care and organized your comrats to fight a Stormvermin attack. Most of them died, but the Stormvermin broke, and your reputation as a hero was made!
But that's not why you rose to Council Leader, merely why you were on the Council. In a move that happened to be viewed by all, you kicked a highly respected and powerful Warlord trying to rally the Clan in the unmentionables, making him infertile and then swiftly dead. No mere Brood Guard should have been able to win a one-on-one contest with such a skilled Warlord.. But even more than that… The Orcs and Goblins all thought it hilarious, and so did the Ogres and the female-Manlings, though the male Manlings now look at you with suspicion.
Advantages:
--Brood Secrets: For better or worse, you've preserved the secret of how to make Broodmothers… which you don't want to use, and the secret to maintaining them better than others, which you'll have to use at least long enough to figure out what to do next, and how to unravel these horrors and find a better path.
--The Strength of the Protector: Brood Guards are taught by Stormvermin themselves, though of course a mere guard is not expected to have picked up more than bits and pieces. But you've picked up far more than most, and also picked up a great deal of tactics just by using your head.
--The Ears of the Guardian: It's amazing the kinds of things you hear, little tidbits and secrets, flowing into the ears of those that will hear.
--Guardian's Poise: By the standards of Manlings it is not much, but a guardian and guard of broodmothers needs to be able to keep a dignified (and subservient) silence, and this unnerves other Skaven used to chittering away.
[] The Cunning Slave: When one coordinates a revolution, one needs to find good places to hide, and needs to pass messages in secret. Who knew that being quite literate and knowing all the best places to party would pay off. You became a dark sort of glue binding the whole revolution together, spreading messages and passing off as harmless. Even that alone was enough to be known by enough people to, perhaps, scrape into the Council.
But then you assassinated the Chief of the whole Clan right at the start of the rebellion, starting a fight for leadership that weakened the power-brokers. Yes, it is supposedly a secret to prevent vengeance. No, it didn't stay actually secret for long.
Advantages
--In the Shadows: You are very good at being sneaky… as good as one can get without being one of those Eshin sneak-cheats.
--Secrets: You have heard a lot of secrets, and these secrets are a sort of currency you can spend to keep things together.
--Knowing Space: You know every corner of this place, thanks to your explorations. Well, not all of them, but there are worse things to know than the best hiding spots.
--Party Hard: You know how to party, and how to live it up. This can help open up ties.
[] The Talky Slave: The limit was always the Fire and Mountain Dwarves. The Orcs were down for a scrap, the Goblins were not so hard-difficult to talk around, the Ogres knew they would feast good-good on the flesh of the masters, the Manlings wanted freedom… but the Fire Dwarves wanted mastery. You went from one to the other to the other and forged an agreement to let the Fire and Mountain Dwarves go for the most part in exchange for their support, and in all you helped just barely bind it all together.
But while that is impressive, the enemies it made among Skaven might have doomed your attempt to rise yet further… except that with the Dwarves, two of the Manlings, and fast-talking to get the Night Goblins and Halflings around you were able to squeak by. Barely.
Advantages
--Everyone Friend…sorta: Even those who hate you, hate you slightly less than most Skaven. The ocean of hatred that Dwarves feel for all Skaven is a… slightly smaller ocean with you.
--Many Tongued: As part of the organizing, you learned many different tongues and can talk to many sorts.
--Hardy: To negotiate with Dwarves and Dragons and more requires being able to survive getting kicked around and attacked. You're good at withstanding a blow… and dodging one too.
[] Miner-Slave: In the rich mines of bronze and iron and other ores, you made your living… and your dying, and you helped lead a slowdown and then a collapse of production, and with the metal you were able to make weapons and overwhelm the guards. The revolt began at least in part because of your organizational skills, and your work with the Ogres made to work in the mines hauling heavy loads that a Skaven could not manage, or at least not the kind of Skaven you are, made you plenty of allies… and then you made even more.
But what actually pushed you from Council member to Council Leader was an accident. You tripped and fell down a supposedly used-up mining shaft, and managed to get away with some scrapes and… warpstone? Finding a new warpstone vein turned you into the pick of many-many Skaven, and then the Ogres convinced the Gnoblars, and a Manling and a Fire Dwarf were interested in the find, and it went from there!
--Extra Vein: You found more Warpstone! Not much more… but maybe it's the start of a rich vein?
--Clever Organizer: You are very good at figuring out how to organize people, if not always talking them around.
--Work-Born: Your experiences as a common slave working in the mines have told you a lot about one of the three pillars that allowed Clan Rictus to survive… the other of course being agriculture and warfare.
--Skaveny Thews: While you are not trained in battle, you are big for a Skaven, as little as that means, and strong from hauling goods and working every day of your life.
[] The Caste-Traitor Leader: You were a clerk, a clanrat technically but one who didn't fight much at all. But you were exhausted and overworked. Count the number of dead innocent Skaven, yes-yes, kill-kill five more for fun! You got sick of it, and when the revolution came you struck out in a bout of fury, killing your overseer and seizing all the records. You managed to carry off a few key bits of information. That alone would be enough to get you on the Council, considering some of the secrets you had.
But you also managed to make a few lucky guesses based on what you'd overheard in the office and passed along to the more militarily-skinned types.
Advantages
--Learned: You are smart-smart and clever-clever, an ink-stained clerk who has access to many-many documents.
--Secrets of the Seers: You have a few pieces of information and secrets the Seers had, not many but a scrap of the knowledge and lore.
--Nerd Rage: You are not at all good in a fight, but your vigor and enthusiasm has impressed some falsely with the reputation of someone who could be a passable warrior.
***
A/N: Brood Guard is locked in as female, all of the others you'll get a choice on that issue in the second half of the Character Creation, where you'll get to choose some traits, a name (subject to veto), and gender.
Character Creation, Part 2
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Character Creation, Part 2
You guarded the Broodmothers and saw the horrors that were done to them, and in your heart rebellion was kindled, and it would explode into a blaze when the day come!
[] Name, subject to veto.
Just to clarify, while references can be interesting, they can also be restrictive. An obscure reference to some sort of female holy warrior or nun might be neat, but Joan d'Rat isn't, because I'm going to have to write-em.
So here's how it looks now.
Martial: Good (Personal Combat Great)
Diplomacy: Solid, but low-ish.
Stewardship: Low
Intrigue: Solid, but low-ish
Learning: Average
Piety: ???!!!???, you've lost all you've ever believed in, but once you believed strongly in the Horned Rat. Now you believe in… what?
Advantageous Traits (Choose 3… +2 to reward the Omakes so far, so 5, why not?)
[] [Advantage] Ambitious: Now that you are awakened to your goals, you have a powerful drive to achieve more. But be wary lest these ambitions blind you, or even worse tempt you to take shortcuts, to plunge into rat-holes…
[] [Advantage] Content: It is not so bad a thing, in one way, not to accept that nothing will get better, or why would you have rebelled, but to accept that it is a process, and you must be happy along the road to a better world. But this can limit your vision and ability to see just where you should go.
[] [Advantage] Diligent: You are hardworking and dedicated, but while this can be a good thing it is always the case that there is something to be said for knowing when to relax.
[] [Advantage] Stubborn: You know when to dig your heels in, and when to stand on principle and let the whole world fall before you… but worry about what this might become when you get older.
[] [Advantage] Flexible (Fickle): You know when to fold and when to bend. This is a vast world, and you cannot always win… and you know what principles are worth sacrificing and which aren't. However, beware that eventually you sacrifice everything away.
[] [Advantage] Forgiving: You know what it is to be in the wrong, and you know what it is to be part of an evil system. There is room for forgiveness… but beware the dagger of the false friend.
[] [Advantage] Justice-Seeking (Vengeful): You know that the guilty exist and that they must be punished, and you are--for now--quite able to distinguish them from the innocent, quite able to understand that nobody bears the crimes of another. For now.
[] [Advantage] Generous: You are open-handed with everyone, knowing that a little bit of money, a tiny fraction of warpstone, someone's ration of food might mean everything to them. But the open hand can be easily stolen from.
[] [Advantage] Fiscally Prudent (Greedy): You know that in the end the resources of the many must be stretched to their limit, and you know when it is time to put those first… but beware that your judgement is never perfect.
[] [Advantage] Honest: In a world of deceitful Skaven, nobody can call themselves completely honest, but that day you faced the Warlord you saw the value of speaking your mind, even when that mind was bile spewed at a monster.
[] [Advantage] Humble: You know that whatever else you are, you are just one rat. You are not superior to any of the others, not in some grand way. Yet, do not underestimate yourself…
[] [Advantage] Confident (Arrogant): You know your skill and you know your worth: far more than those over you ever would have known. This confidence is a cloak, powerful and capable of shielding you from your woes, but beware that it becomes overweening.
[] [Advantage] Evenhanded Justice: Justice is the execution of fairness in its most absolute sense, so that all operate under more or less the same rules, and get more or less the same treatment. Yet beware that fairness misses the trees for the forest.
[] [Advantage] Partial Justice: Justice is helping the weak and siding with the underdog. It is bringing down the strong and always supporting those that are less well off. Yet what one sees as privileged is not so for another.
[] [Advantage] Patient: You know when to wait, and you know that as the time goes on, the Piebald Republic will achieve all it needs. Yet sometimes you run out of time, waiting for just the right moment.
[] [Advantage] Decisive (Impatient): You know that sometimes you have to hurry, to do what is 'good enough' in the knowledge that ultimately sometimes there isn't tomorrow. But if you measure once and cut once, what happens when you cut yourself short?
[] [Advantage] What Did God Truly Do? (Cynical): You have seen through the Horned Rat's lies. Though perhaps one day you will believe in people, in rats and Ogres and Man-things and Dwarf-things, the Gods are not to be trusted.
[] [Advantage] Is There Something More? (Zealous): You have not given up on the idea that there must be something more, whether it is in the here and now, your fellows already deserving of all trust… or some God out there less terrible, surely? Hopefully?
[] [Advantage] Compassionate: The quality of mercy is not strained, and though a tender heart is vulnerable to being eaten, can you truly say that its opposite is any better?
[] [Advantage] Gallant: The odd formality of the Brood Guard has left an impression, and a certain dignity to one's bearing. Sort of . Kind of. In a Skaven-y way.
[] [Advantage] Quick: There is a reaosn you were chosen for this task, though you lacked the dark fur and other characteristics to officially become one of the many other things you might have been. You are clever and skilled for a Skaven, or for anyone.
[] [Advantage] Sociable Drinker: While you were not allowed to go out often among your fellows, for obvious reasons, among your sisters you were known for your ability to hold your liquor and be at least not a party-pooper.
[] [Advantage] Twitch Reflexes: The dangers of nearly being killed once two years ago by a jealous Skaven who hated being denied access have left you with the kind of reflexes any other species, short elves and other oddities, would consider supernatural, and which even among Skaven is impressive.
[] [Advantage] Mystical Knowledge: You know much of the lore of the Horned Rat, even if it is all a mass of lies. You are better at sniffing out those who still hold to some of its tenets.
[] [Advantage] Strong Nose: You are better at sniffing out in general!
[] [Advantage] Disease Resistant: Skaven are not always so, but you have always found yourself almost distressingly healthy.
[] [Advantage] Semi-Polyglot: While you didn't have that much time to pick up new languages, you know some of the Western Manling Tongue, bits of the Eastern Manling tongues, and a good deal of various Goblin languages and dialects, and a very slightly increased ability to learn more.
[] [Advantage] Write-in, subject to veto, just come up with a name and I'll write it up if so.
Disadvantage (Choose at least 1, Max 3, choosing 3 will grant an extra Advantage point, cannot choose the same or opposite as an existing trait.)
[] [Disadvantage] Ambitious: Now that you've had a taste of power, it is almost like a drug. Perhaps it can be diverted into ambition for the Republic, but time will tell.
[] [Disadvantage] Content: Things are better now than they've ever been before for you. You lack a powerful drive to change things, to advance things for yourself. Perhaps you can be driven into motion, but time will tell.
[] [Disadvantage] Overworking (Diligent): You drive yourself hard, and then harder still, and then harder still, and there is a point beyond which it is no longer admirable but self-defeating, and you have reached it.
[] [Disadvantage] Lazy: Years of standing guard, with nothing to fight, have dulled your work ethic considerably.
[] [Disadvantage] Stubborn: You don't know when to quit. Even when you really should. Even when it does real and lasting harm to your cause and what you seek.
[] [Disadvantage] Fickle: You cannot stick things out the way you should. You might learn to have more spine in these things, but at the moment it is not the case.
[] [Disadvantage] Forgiving: After all this blood, you just want a sort of peace. You're too forgiving, not understanding the emotions of the wronged and not understanding that redemption requires repetentence. Hopefully you will learn in time.
[] [Disadvantage] Vengeful: You seek vengeance, the blood of the guilty, even when there might be better ways to move forward. In fact, even when there are definitely better ways.
[] [Disadvantage] Wasteful: Why should not every-thing have everything? Yes, it's perhaps a way to… but surely there's always more money!
[] [Disadvantage] Greedy: Look at all the gold coins. Look at all the wealth you could have had! Now you can have it!
[] [Disadvantage] Humble: You have taken self-effacement to a dark art, into a clear failing of your ability to recognize that you have value.
[] [Disadvantage] Arrogant (Confident): If the gas filling your head could be put to use, the Piebald Republic would have a flotilla of war balloons.
[] [Disadvantage] False Fairness: The law-rules forbid both rich-rich Skaven and poor-poor Skaven from sleeping in hovels.
[] [Disadvantage] Biased "Justice": One must look out for your kind of people, and your kind of people alone, that much seems quite clear to you. Who else will?
[] [Disadvantage] Patient: You are willing to wait. And wait. And wait. Indeed, the idea that there might be a time to act is one you sometimes struggle with.
[] [Disadvantage] Impatient (Decisive): You are unwilling to wait. You want everything now and are constantly acting prematurely, a phrase that makes some Manlings snigger for some reason.
[] [Disadvantage] Compassionate: The softest heart can fall for the bitterest lies.
[] [Disadvantage] Rude: You have very few manners, not having been used to interacting with other Skaven in 'normal' circumstances.
[] [Disadvantage] Drunk: You have been known to abuse everything, even warpstone shavings. The misery of your life as a Brood Guard has given you a number of very bad habits.
[] [Disadvantage] Heavy Sleeper: You can, and will, sleep through anything.
[] [Disadvantage] Half-Blind: Not with your eyes, but with your nose, it has always been a particularly weak nose by Skaven standards.
[] [Disadvantage] Write-in, subject to veto.
Weapons (Choose 2)
A Brood Guard is trained in a number of weapons, but there are two of the below that you are best at…
[] [Weapon] Claws and Paws: You are good at fighting with the weapons that lie close at hand.
[] [Weapon] Daggers: Some say an Eshin weapon, but they are good for close-quarters, and are sharper than claws, at least normal claws.
[] [Weapon] Tail-Blade: Put blade on tail, yes-yes? It is a very fast sort of weapon, not suited for all styles, but it has its uses.
[] [Weapon] Sword: Sometimes with shield, sometimes without, sometimes with two swords, the sword is a balanced weapon indeed.
[] [Weapon] Spear/Halberd: The weapon of holding an enemy back, of poking them to pieces, of defending the Broodmothers. It is a popular weapon.
[] [Weapon] Write-in, subject to veto.
Fighting Strengths (Choose 2)
[] [Strength] Fast: You have always been a quick-fast Skaven, yes-yes, fast on your feet and given to a very mobile fighting style. Always be moving, always be making little attacks and little retreats, whether to buy time or wait for your moment.
[] [Strength] Sturdy: There is something to be said for being able to survive the first mistake to get to the second mistake, or even the third. A style that gives you some advantages in the long-term and lets you keep on fighting can help quite a bit.
[] [Strength] Reckless: You close in on your enemy and you use your weapons, doing damage and letting your boldness and the strength of your blows. It is a dangerous strategy, but it just works.
[] [Strength] Warlock?: You have gotten to use a Warplock pistol… once. And you were a surprisingly good/okay shot with it. You don't have one yet, but if you did you would definitely make ranged combat part of your repertoire.
[] [Strength] Shoulder to Shoulder: You are very good at fighting together with your sisters, and you never stumble or trip in your military tactics when fighting with allies whose skills you know.
[] [Strength] Write-in, subject to veto.
Strategic/Tactical Strengths (Choose 1)
[] [Strategy] Go for the Head: Those who place all their faith in one person make themselves a target for death. If the head dies, so many armies collapse… so get to chopping. As fast and as often as needed.
[] [Strategy] Flanking!: Enemies tend to panic if they are surrounded, and you are surprisingly good at making it happen. Once they're surrounded, once you've hit them from multiple angles, then they're yours.
[] [Strategy] Mistress of Foot: You have only experience leading forces on foot… but even the little experience you have has convinced you that infantry are more important than they have been treated before.
[] [Strategy] To The Last: There is something to be said to biting onto the enemy and encouraging your troops to hold on. You are very good at making sure that the Musk of Battle does not give way to the Musk of Fear.
*****
A/N: All things can be a virtue or a vice depending. These will be partially custom Traits, and if you'd chosen the Talky Slave you would have gotten the Tactical/Strategic equivalent of the last section. It'd just be about conversational strategies and diplomatic moves, as it were.
So obviously, you can't choose two opposite Advantages, and if you choose something as an Advantage you cannot choose either its opposite or mirror as a disadvantage. An [Advantage] Humble cannot choose [Advantage] Confident, [Disadvantage] Humble, or [Disadvantage] Arrogant, if that makes sense?
I hope it's not too complicated, I just got an idea I thought was really cool about how to make the second half of character creation a little more interesting than "Oh, I'll be Brave and Honest and"
These traits will have more effects than just stat effects, and potentially different ones than baseline CK2, and I'll obviously be working with the "vice" traits that have been made into virtues and so different versions of the same named trait will have different effects.
VOTE BY PLAN.
(Also if you're wondering why Quick doesn't cost any extra, it's because it's merely a quantitative change, albeit a potent one, unlike the quantitative and qualitative nature of the other Traits, which can unlock new actions or options or meaningfully modify some elements of how the Quest is played.)
Please ask me if you have any questions, while I was worried about overwhelming you, this just seems like a cool way to do it.
You guarded the Broodmothers and saw the horrors that were done to them, and in your heart rebellion was kindled, and it would explode into a blaze when the day come!
[] Name, subject to veto.
Just to clarify, while references can be interesting, they can also be restrictive. An obscure reference to some sort of female holy warrior or nun might be neat, but Joan d'Rat isn't, because I'm going to have to write-em.
So here's how it looks now.
Martial: Good (Personal Combat Great)
Diplomacy: Solid, but low-ish.
Stewardship: Low
Intrigue: Solid, but low-ish
Learning: Average
Piety: ???!!!???, you've lost all you've ever believed in, but once you believed strongly in the Horned Rat. Now you believe in… what?
Advantageous Traits (Choose 3… +2 to reward the Omakes so far, so 5, why not?)
[] [Advantage] Ambitious: Now that you are awakened to your goals, you have a powerful drive to achieve more. But be wary lest these ambitions blind you, or even worse tempt you to take shortcuts, to plunge into rat-holes…
[] [Advantage] Content: It is not so bad a thing, in one way, not to accept that nothing will get better, or why would you have rebelled, but to accept that it is a process, and you must be happy along the road to a better world. But this can limit your vision and ability to see just where you should go.
[] [Advantage] Diligent: You are hardworking and dedicated, but while this can be a good thing it is always the case that there is something to be said for knowing when to relax.
[] [Advantage] Stubborn: You know when to dig your heels in, and when to stand on principle and let the whole world fall before you… but worry about what this might become when you get older.
[] [Advantage] Flexible (Fickle): You know when to fold and when to bend. This is a vast world, and you cannot always win… and you know what principles are worth sacrificing and which aren't. However, beware that eventually you sacrifice everything away.
[] [Advantage] Forgiving: You know what it is to be in the wrong, and you know what it is to be part of an evil system. There is room for forgiveness… but beware the dagger of the false friend.
[] [Advantage] Justice-Seeking (Vengeful): You know that the guilty exist and that they must be punished, and you are--for now--quite able to distinguish them from the innocent, quite able to understand that nobody bears the crimes of another. For now.
[] [Advantage] Generous: You are open-handed with everyone, knowing that a little bit of money, a tiny fraction of warpstone, someone's ration of food might mean everything to them. But the open hand can be easily stolen from.
[] [Advantage] Fiscally Prudent (Greedy): You know that in the end the resources of the many must be stretched to their limit, and you know when it is time to put those first… but beware that your judgement is never perfect.
[] [Advantage] Honest: In a world of deceitful Skaven, nobody can call themselves completely honest, but that day you faced the Warlord you saw the value of speaking your mind, even when that mind was bile spewed at a monster.
[] [Advantage] Humble: You know that whatever else you are, you are just one rat. You are not superior to any of the others, not in some grand way. Yet, do not underestimate yourself…
[] [Advantage] Confident (Arrogant): You know your skill and you know your worth: far more than those over you ever would have known. This confidence is a cloak, powerful and capable of shielding you from your woes, but beware that it becomes overweening.
[] [Advantage] Evenhanded Justice: Justice is the execution of fairness in its most absolute sense, so that all operate under more or less the same rules, and get more or less the same treatment. Yet beware that fairness misses the trees for the forest.
[] [Advantage] Partial Justice: Justice is helping the weak and siding with the underdog. It is bringing down the strong and always supporting those that are less well off. Yet what one sees as privileged is not so for another.
[] [Advantage] Patient: You know when to wait, and you know that as the time goes on, the Piebald Republic will achieve all it needs. Yet sometimes you run out of time, waiting for just the right moment.
[] [Advantage] Decisive (Impatient): You know that sometimes you have to hurry, to do what is 'good enough' in the knowledge that ultimately sometimes there isn't tomorrow. But if you measure once and cut once, what happens when you cut yourself short?
[] [Advantage] What Did God Truly Do? (Cynical): You have seen through the Horned Rat's lies. Though perhaps one day you will believe in people, in rats and Ogres and Man-things and Dwarf-things, the Gods are not to be trusted.
[] [Advantage] Is There Something More? (Zealous): You have not given up on the idea that there must be something more, whether it is in the here and now, your fellows already deserving of all trust… or some God out there less terrible, surely? Hopefully?
[] [Advantage] Compassionate: The quality of mercy is not strained, and though a tender heart is vulnerable to being eaten, can you truly say that its opposite is any better?
[] [Advantage] Gallant: The odd formality of the Brood Guard has left an impression, and a certain dignity to one's bearing. Sort of . Kind of. In a Skaven-y way.
[] [Advantage] Quick: There is a reaosn you were chosen for this task, though you lacked the dark fur and other characteristics to officially become one of the many other things you might have been. You are clever and skilled for a Skaven, or for anyone.
[] [Advantage] Sociable Drinker: While you were not allowed to go out often among your fellows, for obvious reasons, among your sisters you were known for your ability to hold your liquor and be at least not a party-pooper.
[] [Advantage] Twitch Reflexes: The dangers of nearly being killed once two years ago by a jealous Skaven who hated being denied access have left you with the kind of reflexes any other species, short elves and other oddities, would consider supernatural, and which even among Skaven is impressive.
[] [Advantage] Mystical Knowledge: You know much of the lore of the Horned Rat, even if it is all a mass of lies. You are better at sniffing out those who still hold to some of its tenets.
[] [Advantage] Strong Nose: You are better at sniffing out in general!
[] [Advantage] Disease Resistant: Skaven are not always so, but you have always found yourself almost distressingly healthy.
[] [Advantage] Semi-Polyglot: While you didn't have that much time to pick up new languages, you know some of the Western Manling Tongue, bits of the Eastern Manling tongues, and a good deal of various Goblin languages and dialects, and a very slightly increased ability to learn more.
[] [Advantage] Write-in, subject to veto, just come up with a name and I'll write it up if so.
Disadvantage (Choose at least 1, Max 3, choosing 3 will grant an extra Advantage point, cannot choose the same or opposite as an existing trait.)
[] [Disadvantage] Ambitious: Now that you've had a taste of power, it is almost like a drug. Perhaps it can be diverted into ambition for the Republic, but time will tell.
[] [Disadvantage] Content: Things are better now than they've ever been before for you. You lack a powerful drive to change things, to advance things for yourself. Perhaps you can be driven into motion, but time will tell.
[] [Disadvantage] Overworking (Diligent): You drive yourself hard, and then harder still, and then harder still, and there is a point beyond which it is no longer admirable but self-defeating, and you have reached it.
[] [Disadvantage] Lazy: Years of standing guard, with nothing to fight, have dulled your work ethic considerably.
[] [Disadvantage] Stubborn: You don't know when to quit. Even when you really should. Even when it does real and lasting harm to your cause and what you seek.
[] [Disadvantage] Fickle: You cannot stick things out the way you should. You might learn to have more spine in these things, but at the moment it is not the case.
[] [Disadvantage] Forgiving: After all this blood, you just want a sort of peace. You're too forgiving, not understanding the emotions of the wronged and not understanding that redemption requires repetentence. Hopefully you will learn in time.
[] [Disadvantage] Vengeful: You seek vengeance, the blood of the guilty, even when there might be better ways to move forward. In fact, even when there are definitely better ways.
[] [Disadvantage] Wasteful: Why should not every-thing have everything? Yes, it's perhaps a way to… but surely there's always more money!
[] [Disadvantage] Greedy: Look at all the gold coins. Look at all the wealth you could have had! Now you can have it!
[] [Disadvantage] Humble: You have taken self-effacement to a dark art, into a clear failing of your ability to recognize that you have value.
[] [Disadvantage] Arrogant (Confident): If the gas filling your head could be put to use, the Piebald Republic would have a flotilla of war balloons.
[] [Disadvantage] False Fairness: The law-rules forbid both rich-rich Skaven and poor-poor Skaven from sleeping in hovels.
[] [Disadvantage] Biased "Justice": One must look out for your kind of people, and your kind of people alone, that much seems quite clear to you. Who else will?
[] [Disadvantage] Patient: You are willing to wait. And wait. And wait. Indeed, the idea that there might be a time to act is one you sometimes struggle with.
[] [Disadvantage] Impatient (Decisive): You are unwilling to wait. You want everything now and are constantly acting prematurely, a phrase that makes some Manlings snigger for some reason.
[] [Disadvantage] Compassionate: The softest heart can fall for the bitterest lies.
[] [Disadvantage] Rude: You have very few manners, not having been used to interacting with other Skaven in 'normal' circumstances.
[] [Disadvantage] Drunk: You have been known to abuse everything, even warpstone shavings. The misery of your life as a Brood Guard has given you a number of very bad habits.
[] [Disadvantage] Heavy Sleeper: You can, and will, sleep through anything.
[] [Disadvantage] Half-Blind: Not with your eyes, but with your nose, it has always been a particularly weak nose by Skaven standards.
[] [Disadvantage] Write-in, subject to veto.
Weapons (Choose 2)
A Brood Guard is trained in a number of weapons, but there are two of the below that you are best at…
[] [Weapon] Claws and Paws: You are good at fighting with the weapons that lie close at hand.
[] [Weapon] Daggers: Some say an Eshin weapon, but they are good for close-quarters, and are sharper than claws, at least normal claws.
[] [Weapon] Tail-Blade: Put blade on tail, yes-yes? It is a very fast sort of weapon, not suited for all styles, but it has its uses.
[] [Weapon] Sword: Sometimes with shield, sometimes without, sometimes with two swords, the sword is a balanced weapon indeed.
[] [Weapon] Spear/Halberd: The weapon of holding an enemy back, of poking them to pieces, of defending the Broodmothers. It is a popular weapon.
[] [Weapon] Write-in, subject to veto.
Fighting Strengths (Choose 2)
[] [Strength] Fast: You have always been a quick-fast Skaven, yes-yes, fast on your feet and given to a very mobile fighting style. Always be moving, always be making little attacks and little retreats, whether to buy time or wait for your moment.
[] [Strength] Sturdy: There is something to be said for being able to survive the first mistake to get to the second mistake, or even the third. A style that gives you some advantages in the long-term and lets you keep on fighting can help quite a bit.
[] [Strength] Reckless: You close in on your enemy and you use your weapons, doing damage and letting your boldness and the strength of your blows. It is a dangerous strategy, but it just works.
[] [Strength] Warlock?: You have gotten to use a Warplock pistol… once. And you were a surprisingly good/okay shot with it. You don't have one yet, but if you did you would definitely make ranged combat part of your repertoire.
[] [Strength] Shoulder to Shoulder: You are very good at fighting together with your sisters, and you never stumble or trip in your military tactics when fighting with allies whose skills you know.
[] [Strength] Write-in, subject to veto.
Strategic/Tactical Strengths (Choose 1)
[] [Strategy] Go for the Head: Those who place all their faith in one person make themselves a target for death. If the head dies, so many armies collapse… so get to chopping. As fast and as often as needed.
[] [Strategy] Flanking!: Enemies tend to panic if they are surrounded, and you are surprisingly good at making it happen. Once they're surrounded, once you've hit them from multiple angles, then they're yours.
[] [Strategy] Mistress of Foot: You have only experience leading forces on foot… but even the little experience you have has convinced you that infantry are more important than they have been treated before.
[] [Strategy] To The Last: There is something to be said to biting onto the enemy and encouraging your troops to hold on. You are very good at making sure that the Musk of Battle does not give way to the Musk of Fear.
*****
A/N: All things can be a virtue or a vice depending. These will be partially custom Traits, and if you'd chosen the Talky Slave you would have gotten the Tactical/Strategic equivalent of the last section. It'd just be about conversational strategies and diplomatic moves, as it were.
So obviously, you can't choose two opposite Advantages, and if you choose something as an Advantage you cannot choose either its opposite or mirror as a disadvantage. An [Advantage] Humble cannot choose [Advantage] Confident, [Disadvantage] Humble, or [Disadvantage] Arrogant, if that makes sense?
I hope it's not too complicated, I just got an idea I thought was really cool about how to make the second half of character creation a little more interesting than "Oh, I'll be Brave and Honest and"
These traits will have more effects than just stat effects, and potentially different ones than baseline CK2, and I'll obviously be working with the "vice" traits that have been made into virtues and so different versions of the same named trait will have different effects.
VOTE BY PLAN.
(Also if you're wondering why Quick doesn't cost any extra, it's because it's merely a quantitative change, albeit a potent one, unlike the quantitative and qualitative nature of the other Traits, which can unlock new actions or options or meaningfully modify some elements of how the Quest is played.)
Please ask me if you have any questions, while I was worried about overwhelming you, this just seems like a cool way to do it.
Turn 0 News/Rumors (???, Two Months After Horned Rat’s Death, One Month After Revolution)
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Turn 0 News/Rumors (???, Two Months After Horned Rat's Death, One Month After Revolution)
The Horned Rat's Death: Nobody knows how or why, but the Horned Rat seems to have died two months ago. For a very short time this was covered up, a matter of a day or two, but all could feel the weight of the malign God lifting, and all could notice that the Grey Seers' power was diminished, though not entirely obliterated, and that the structures were tumbling. For a month the leadership of Clan Rictus increased alienation through combinations of craven wheedling and harsh crackdowns aimed poorly when, even before the death of the Horned Rat, slave revolts were already being planned. And what they got from all of this was…
Revolution!: Together the races and species have banded together to overthrow the oppressor. While some, Manling and both kinds of Dwarf and more, have left to brighter pastures, those that remain are Comrades in arms and hopefully view the Skaven who rebelled with them as Comrats.
A Grey Blur South: Grey Seer Snickerslick, he of vicious and biting humor and cruelty, has fled with his retinue to the warrens to the south, swearing that he will have his vengeance. To the South lay the warrens along the underground trail towards the Ash Ridge Mountains, where the eggs were stolen from, and beneath strange lands where blood-sucking monsters and dead-things and worse threaten.
Brave Chieftan Craventail: Has ran away! With a retinue of Stormvermin and several others, he has made his way east, in the direction of Mount Grey Hag. It seems likely that he intends to rally the raiders and slave-taker Skaven there and challenge the leadership. After all, he has by his cunning and willingness to flee risen this far, and should he reconquer Crookback Mountain, he could be the new Warlord of Clan Rictus. He must not be allowed to return!
The Council Shall Meet: After nearly a month of arguing, bickering, and debating, a few basic rules have been laid down. The Council will meet, with elected representatives or 'elected' representatives from each of the major races! Then they will decide the future of this glorious Republic!
Fair is Fair: Vol Ashborn, A Skaven who is not even a candidate for the council but fast and sneaky, somewhat cunning and honest Skaven, has made sure that there was no ballot-stuffing for the voting-decisions. The votes were all counted, the top fourteen all selected, and then the paper-stuff was reused by ink-clerks. Fourteen Skaven have been chosen!
No Krumpin': It is hard to get these very disparate people to agree on anything. Heck, for all the hopes of a new start, most of the races are living in separate quarters within the mountain, even if there's a common city they get food from and so on. But it has been agreed that there would be no killing, either among the races or in the leadership contests, with the implication being that murder at all was not acceptable either. It's at least held so far, with even the Orc and Ogre leadership challenges remaining nonlethal.
The Horned Rat's Death: Nobody knows how or why, but the Horned Rat seems to have died two months ago. For a very short time this was covered up, a matter of a day or two, but all could feel the weight of the malign God lifting, and all could notice that the Grey Seers' power was diminished, though not entirely obliterated, and that the structures were tumbling. For a month the leadership of Clan Rictus increased alienation through combinations of craven wheedling and harsh crackdowns aimed poorly when, even before the death of the Horned Rat, slave revolts were already being planned. And what they got from all of this was…
Revolution!: Together the races and species have banded together to overthrow the oppressor. While some, Manling and both kinds of Dwarf and more, have left to brighter pastures, those that remain are Comrades in arms and hopefully view the Skaven who rebelled with them as Comrats.
A Grey Blur South: Grey Seer Snickerslick, he of vicious and biting humor and cruelty, has fled with his retinue to the warrens to the south, swearing that he will have his vengeance. To the South lay the warrens along the underground trail towards the Ash Ridge Mountains, where the eggs were stolen from, and beneath strange lands where blood-sucking monsters and dead-things and worse threaten.
Brave Chieftan Craventail: Has ran away! With a retinue of Stormvermin and several others, he has made his way east, in the direction of Mount Grey Hag. It seems likely that he intends to rally the raiders and slave-taker Skaven there and challenge the leadership. After all, he has by his cunning and willingness to flee risen this far, and should he reconquer Crookback Mountain, he could be the new Warlord of Clan Rictus. He must not be allowed to return!
The Council Shall Meet: After nearly a month of arguing, bickering, and debating, a few basic rules have been laid down. The Council will meet, with elected representatives or 'elected' representatives from each of the major races! Then they will decide the future of this glorious Republic!
Fair is Fair: Vol Ashborn, A Skaven who is not even a candidate for the council but fast and sneaky, somewhat cunning and honest Skaven, has made sure that there was no ballot-stuffing for the voting-decisions. The votes were all counted, the top fourteen all selected, and then the paper-stuff was reused by ink-clerks. Fourteen Skaven have been chosen!
No Krumpin': It is hard to get these very disparate people to agree on anything. Heck, for all the hopes of a new start, most of the races are living in separate quarters within the mountain, even if there's a common city they get food from and so on. But it has been agreed that there would be no killing, either among the races or in the leadership contests, with the implication being that murder at all was not acceptable either. It's at least held so far, with even the Orc and Ogre leadership challenges remaining nonlethal.
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Turn 1 Actions--The First Election! (2 Months after death of Horned Rat)
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Turn 1 Actions--The First Election! (2 Months after death of Horned Rat)
They met in an old meeting hall, one that Clanrats had once scurried through leaving trails of their scent to look busy when their bosses came around. They'd made sure to scrub the entire room, to wash away any of the old scents. There would be no clan-leader scents in the hall anymore, nor any clerk-rats made to piddle the Musk of Fear for their overlords. It had to be expanded, especially with a dragon glaring in the corner, unable to sit at the table and giving up such heat that even standing near her was, if not dangerous, unpleasant.
A vast stone table had been laid out, and then in a corner in several niches was food of various sorts, piled high. A section for Manlings, Dwarfs, and Halflings, a section for Ogres, Greenskins of all kinds, a section for Lizardmen where guesses had been made and nothing eaten, and of course a section for Skaven. Of course, much of the food in different sections was largely the same. Andratse, called Twicetail for the speed of her tailblade, or Onesniff for the simplicity of her scent, looked at the gathering of mushrooms and meat and more. The Ogre had cleared out much of his buffet and then some, of course. This wasn't surprising. She could smell it too, the mushrooms and meats, and then the goblin-cheeses, and the most less fragrant non-goblin cheeses, and the surface-vegetables, barely present, smelling watery and sickly.
She sat at one part of this stone table, which was carefully staffed. The Mountain Dwarf and Fire Dwarf could not sit next to each other, nor could the Elves sit next to the Dwarfs, and from there it goes on. The Mountain Dwarf refuses to sit next to a Skaven, Elf, Orc or Fire Dwarf, one of the Manlings wanted to be next to a Dwarf, and so the whole thing had become an exercise in rabsurd balancing acts.
She hadn't been involved, being fine wherever she was put, but she'd read through it again and again. What a mess.
Many still seemed harried and grieved, which she could understand. All the past week or two there had been gatherings where food was cried over as if it were the person, even though surely whatever they are had fled long ago. But she knew that other races didn't see it that way, and if they were odd they were also friend-things, and she scanned the crowd.
Daled Clawhammer, the Mountain Dwarf, quaffed a mushroom beer with a look of intense and almost unbelivable distrust at everyone around him. He had cried no tears, and smelled not of sorrow and greef but of beer. To his right was Rupert von Hummingburg, a Manling who seemed to speak "Reikspiel" and had been a mercenary, and was seated next to the Ogre, Argrush Chimeraeater Linebreaker Cannonball Catcher the Huge, who sat next to a quiet Gnoblar whose name was… Gvani Nosebiter, or something like that, whose nose seemed slightly shorter than that of the other Gnoblar, Dapstod Dewgum, who was seated far away from the Ogre.
Argrush was supposed to be kind, in the fashion of an Ogre, and he had won his challenges for leadership without killing and eating his foes. Andraste knows that eating the dead is thought bad, though she does not fully understand it. But she can understand why killing someone to eat them was wrong. All over, people chittered and chattered, though the Skaven like herself were clustered thanks to Dwarfish and Manling and other… feelings.
Of course, Zharoth K'Daaigak, the Fire Dwarf, seemed happy to sit among the Skaven, smelling of beer as well and oil. He actually met her eyes when she looked over towards her and nodded, though he glowered towards the elves down his side of the table after a moment. He was a beardy fellow, with his long beard just starting to go grey, and his tusks rather impressive indeed.
As people talked, translators tried to bring it all around so that all could understand, to mixed success.
The cluster of translators was very necessary, even for Andratse. She was hardly used to all of the rapid-fire languages being shot her way. Her knowledge of any one of them was not bad, but it was not up to this great task. Nobody's was, probably, because everyone went through several translators to talk to anyone else. But now they were all settled down and seated, except...
Not quite.
The four elves stood behind a single chair. Each was a precisely equal distance apart. Andratse had a good sense of space and distance from her work with a spear, and so she could tell that each had intentionally stood equally far apart from each other while being, as much as possible, equally far from the chair for the Elves' seat, or equally close. The chair was unoccupied.
She did not understand it at all, but Elf-things were odd, there was no getting around it. But they were allies, at least hopefully, if they could be made to work together.
They had suffered greatly, even beyond their capacity and incredibly long lives. All had suffered, but they had been kept alive for years longer than most others. Andratse cannot say why, but perhaps there was some reason. And she does know that in recent years they have been taking stranger and stranger slaves. She's heard middle-rats complain about it while going about their business, stood away from then with her spear well at hand and her tail-blade lashing against the ground.
But there was a lot that she did not yet understand. She had to blink through sleep, because she'd spent all the previous night looking over the seating chart to figure out how the vote is going to go.
"Do not worry, yes-yes," Sarry Inkclaws said, her namesake dominating her scent once you got over the other musk, wiggling her fingers and tapping against the table in a rhythm. "You'll do good-fine, yes-yes."
Andratse nodded, and then she felt it, the shifting that told her the meeting was about to begin. She could smell it, the anticipation--and alcohol--almost wafting off of K'Daaigak.
Sarry clambered up on top of the table. She was dressed in rag-robes of sorts, unarmed and unworried, whereas Andratse couldn't have imagined going to such a meeting without the Broodguards at her back, her sisters who defended her. She had a knife in her belt and a blade, woven and carefully positioned, on her tail. But she couldn't bring her spear because Rupert had sworn he would bring no weapons other than his knife, so long as he could bring one guard.
And so it had gone. Everyone was suspicious of each other, but nobody wanted to appear to be the one planning to turn this voting-fight into a fight-fight.
"Attention, attention, yes-yes, Manlings, Dwarf-things, Elf-things, Goblin-things, friends all! This is the first meeting of the Governing Council," Sarry yelled out, her words translated by the others. She paced back and forth. "We must chose Council-Leader first, to help-help organize things. Council Leader is not to be a King or overlord, Tyrant or Warboss, but to help balance Council and set agenda, talk-talk to everyone, work-work-work."
Andratse nodded to herself at this.
"So we are acepting nominations," she chittered, her Queekish fast and fluid, and translated into various languages. "People-persons should nominate-select themselves and explain why they are a good-good candidate! When all nominations in,voting will start and go around table. If no candidate has a majority, then lowest candidates will drop out, yes-yes, and their supporters will vote for next."
There were nods all around, since everyone had already been told this in advance. But before anyone could speak, a dragon's voice rumbled out.
"I will be voting for myself," Getrarch rumbled, the dragon looking from one of them to the next. She was huge, a red-black dragon of the sort they called Magma Dragons, at least among Man-Things. She smelled of smoke and death, and even Andratse felt the urge to make the Musk of Fear when near the dragon.
"Would you like to say-speak more?" Sarry asked, after a pause in which nobody spoke.
"No."
There was another moment of hesitation, and then Rupert spoke up. He was a strange man-thing, tall and well-muscled, with a bushy beard and scraggly yellow hair but with wild blue eyes, and he smelled always faintly of sweat and some human version of the Musk of Battle. He was still dressed in rags, partially, but he'd managed to find armor and so he stood, looking around carefully. "People of this new Republic. Our only hope is our bonds with those merchants trading around here and our indomitable spirit and strong arm. I, Rupert von Hummingburg, am a talented mercenary and--"
Pious something? She did not know the name of the God.
"And thus I stand for you and will fight for you. Choose me to advance this Republic further and faster, that we might enrich ourselves on the plenty of trade with those passing merchants and in doing so make this a Republic greater than any that could ever be dreamed in the Old World."
A Skaven clapped, as did Josiah Fuerburgh, the merchant, and the Mountain Dwarf Clawhammer slammed his hand once on the table before taking another swig of grog.
One of the elves turned to a Man-thing that was waiting to translate and spoke. Then the others spoke, and after a long moment the Man-thing swallowed and hurried over to Sarry. It was a young man, maybe even just a boy, and he wrinkled his nose at Sarry's complex odor, the sort of smell that any good Skaven knew was quite fascinating, but which Man-things seemed to hate, and whispered it in her air.
"Elf-things make argument that they are oldest-wisest, and that therefore Council should-must vote for Elf so wisdom can be shared. Elves think-declare that once they are chosen they will decide among themselves as to the leadership."
Both of the dwarfs snorted angrily at the very same moment, and then turned to each other to glare in pure fury… at the same time.
Andratse hardly thought much of the argument either, standing there as everyone chittered and reacted.
Then the Fire Dwarf cleared his throat and spoke. Through translation, this is what he said, to the best of her knowledge.
"We must go forward and create an Empire of Liberty, one that can dominate and conquer the whole of the area. Hashut rejected me all these long years, declared me unworthy by keeping me in captivity. But I am dwarf who knows many things, who has knowledge such that can advance this Republic into a powerful and just Empire without slaves because all work together to conquer the region from those who will not join us and do not share our values. While some of my comrades still worship Hashut, they are fools and will have their foolish beliefs destroyed just as soon we shall learn how the Horned Rat was killed and replicate it upon Hashut, killing another God and seizing its throne for ourselves! Hashut and the Dwarves of Fire cast me out, did they? We'll they'll pay! They'll all pay!" A pause, and then as if he remembered that he was trying to convince other people, "And then we shall all prosper, of course. Together."
The room sat there in stunned silence as K'Daaigak finished his drink.
"This sounds dangerous-bad," Chittertongue the "Aledancer" declaimed. He doesn't like Andratse, and has made it clear. He's a talkative sort, unlike her, named that way because he'd danced and dined with Manlings and more while trying to make the alliance work. This had weakened him among Skavens, but there were still a few Skaven looking towards him… and plenty outside the Council in the warrens who had voted for him up to this point, or he would not be here. "It is best to focus on each of the Races getting along within the Republic together. We talk-argue and bicker-bicker, but we must agree-decide or else we will die-perish. I have brought-strung the various groups together and I will stand and fight-struggle to bring them together. Only then can we defend-protect ourselves." He paused, as a few Skaven bruxxed either from nervousness or in agreement: in the Under-Empire the two had been hard to differentiate sometimes. "Beyond Grey Seer and Craventail we need not fight with others, but reap the reward-benefit of trade routes and friendship. I am Chittertongue, and you know-understand me. I did good-good work bringing all the Races together, and I will-must continue. Rat-things, Man-things, Elf-things… we are all people with different cultures-beliefs, but together we can be stronger-better. Please, support my bid for Council Leader, and I will not let you down."
A few Skaven's hooted and chittered in agreement, and Rupert nodded, frowning thoughtfully. She suspected, while she was no political sort, that there was the seed of an alliance there. But only one of them could get the votes, and she knew that the Mountain Dwarf would not vote for Chittertongue, even if he hated the Skaven slightly less.
Andratse considered it, and when she saw nobody else was stepping out, she moved to climb onto the table. "I am Andratse, and I am candidate-nominee for this position-role because we must see-consider where we are. We are surrounded-threatened, and other candidates made good-good points. We must come to an agreement-accord with each other. We must know-understand the threat of the Dwarves of Fire. We must trade with the Man-Things and all others." She cleared her throat and stepped forward, looking over towards the Elves, who seemed baffled to be looked towards at all. "The Elf-Things are right as well, in a way: I do not think-advise they should be Council Leader, but they have wisdom-knowledge that we need to make use of if we are not to suffer-perish."
"We must adapt within and without," she says, nose turning up in a sort of display she realizes won't mean anything to half the people there. "Dozens of Orcs fought for the election, and one won. But the others did not die-perish, and instead their brutality-cunning will help win further battles and have better-good fights!" She looked over at the Orc, aware that this was a claim that could end badly. But the Orc frowned, perhaps very briefly considering it before grunting. "We Skaven have things we need to change now-now, Man-Things and Dwarf-things, Goblin-things and Elf-things all know it. But who am I to say-speak this?"
"The woman who kicked a Warlord in the balls," a woman said to her right, standing up as the translator blushed and belatedly translated it. She was Cui Chuntao, dressed in the same rags as anyone else, the third of the Man-thing council members. She was a Man-thing like the others, but a woman, and her furless skin was a slightly different shade than the others. She spoke a different tongue, too, and one that Andratse did not know.
And the Ogre started chuckling, and the Night Goblins hooting. They liked the idea.
"I have fought the enemies of the revolution, the worst-best of the old bad-bad ways. Yet I am a Brood Guard… and I ask for your nomination-support."
The Skaven knew what this meant, and knew what she was saying. She knew the future of their people, she could ensure it, help it along. She was trusted even with that… and while she'd been trusted by the Clan-leaders, now she could be trusted by Skaven too.
She moved to climb down, but there was enough chittering and cheering that she knew she was going to at least get a handful of votes.
They'd start with the merchant, and then go to his right, until the Lizardman was last. Apparently next time there was such an election, they'd go in reverse order? Each person could vote and explain why, and then it'd move on.
Josiah Fuerburgh cleared his throat. He had apparently been a fat-big man-thing when he'd come in, but by now he was stick thin. "I believe in trade. I believe that Rupert is the best choice."
Then it went to Clawhammer. "Manlings I trust more than most here. It isn't much, they are Umgi, but we've been through a lot. Rupert."
"I'm voting for myself, I'd have to be pretty silly not to," Rupert said, with a shrug.
Andratse flicked her tail, not that concerned but aware that things could snowball.
The Ogre took a very long time to decide, just grunting and staring out. Finally he grunted out actual words, voice ringingly loud, "I liked Andratse."
The Gnoblar next to her stuck his huge nose in the air and looked nervously over at the Ogre. "I like her too!"
There were titters there, and while the Ogre had not made him agree with him, she had very few doubts that if the Ogre had decided for Rupert, followed ties of mercenary-friendship, so too would the Gnoblar.
The rat next to him was Feresh Longtail, though. He was a trainer, a scarred and grizzled rat that some found handsome and some not, and if she hadn't been there he would have been the clear martial leader among the Skaven Council members. His nose twitched, raised high up to be higher than Andratse's as he said, "Chittertongue."
Then a nervous Skaven leapt up. Barge-Up, the humans called her, and she said, "That Man-thing, Rupert, has the right-good idea of it, yes-yes."
Four to two to one.
The next Skaven voted her way, though, making it closer, before sinking back into the seat and pulling out a teeth-chewer to whittle away at front-teeth that were growing too long.
After only a slight hesitation, the Elves voted for themselves without explanation.
The surprisingly short Khret Broadborn, a Skaven who had been big at birth but hadn't grown as much, frowned for a moment and then voted for Andratse.
Zatch Cravenchaser, looking rather hungover burst out, "Chittertongue--" and then as they began to move on, "No, wait-wait, Andratse, yes-yes." And then looked at her, leaning towards her and smiling what was probably meant to be a seductive or charming grin.
Great.
Well, it was a vote, and it put Andratse ahead. But she'd have to ignore the stupid-idiot.
A Skaven miner, Khron Stonecrest, patted his thin stomach and talked for a while about hunger-want and then voted for Andratse, "If you work-work to get mines back up-up-up but better-good!"
K'Daaigak voted for himself, and Andratse took a moment to start doing the math. She had six, Chittertongue had two, Rupert had four, and then the Fire Dwarf and the Elves both had one. If it came to a run-off, Chittertongue and Rupert might combine. But if they did, then at least they were working together. There were worse outcomes.
Mother Drubapple was a skinny, odd sort. Andratse had talked to her beforehand, and the Halflings had voted fairly, as they should have, yes-yes. Halflings were very odd, and smelled just slightly different-weird, and she hadn't known which way Drubapple was leaning at the time. "I think all the choices could be good, but I'll vote for Rupert."
Iznos laughed, and the Orc loomed over almost everyone there and smelled of sweat and blood and then, faintly, of fungus as all Greenskins did: "Andratse, sure!"
Sarry had returned to her proper seat, and so Andratse was next. Tense, her tail almost springing from stress, her nose sniffing constantly, she took a breath, "Myself."
Eight to five to two to a pair of lonely votes. If it did come down that she fell short, she'd need to talk to the elves, probably? Or…
Sarry looked up and looked over her for a long moment, "Andratse."
The human, Cui, considered it. "I believe Andratse is lucky, and she is funny. I shall vote for her."
Then next was Khitch Slicktongue, and he licked his lips, his huge tongue on display. "The Horned-Rat was bad yes-yes, and there are many things that must change-improve. But it seems to me that Andratse would know which ones are most important-good." She knew his type, scared of change… and for those types she was reassuring because she was not part of the hierarchy, but she was a figure who had been significant.
Then she turned to look towards the second Gnoblar councilor, Dapstod Dewgum. She'd talked with him before this meeting, and he'd ranted about how nobody respects Gnoblars and he wasn't going to be anyone's slave like they'd been Ogre slaves. And she'd nodded and promised it wouldn't happen-occur. "Andratse," he said, nodding at her, his nose letting him look down at her while keeping it lowered below hers, as if he knew that Skaven custom.
After a very, very long discussion and debate lasting several minutes, the two Night Goblins, Baruk Earwing and Dzol Tittersnipe decided to vote for her as one. Earwing was talkative and sneaky, Tittersnipe sneaky and talkative, and she'd spent hours in both of their presences trying to convince them ahead of time. So had Chittertongue, but when it came down to it she'd convinced them.
That brought her up very close. Fourteen. She needed just one more. One more out of the next seven, but the Dragon would vote for herself, Chittertongue would vote for himself, and who knew how the Lizard would vote. It was close, now, and everyone knew it. Chittertongue thought that these would be it. If he got those five, and figured out the Lizard, that would put him at nine. Then going in the next round he'd nearly tie her with Rupert's numbers… then it'd be down to trying to convince Elves or Fire Dwarves or more. But it could be done.
She knew it could. He knew it too. She respected-understood him even if she could not like-enjoy his presence. He knew things she didn't. Once he got to talking, he was probably going to sway plenty of those who voted for her away.
The big test was Zhen Tinkernose, one of the more talented of the lower-level tinkerers and the sort always working to try to make Clan Skyre favorites without Clan Skyre. A dangerous habit, but he had influence over the forge-worker and his sometimes lover Qit Bristledigger, a pungent but almost handsome Skaven with the scars and the mutations to show from being so exposed to raw warpstone and strange Grey Seer experiments. Zhen looked around, considered it. If he went towards Andratse, then she had it, and votes to spare. The more to spare the better, really.
"Andratse," he finally said. "But there are many good choices."
And there it was. The voting was done.
Except, not quite.
Chittertongue voted for himself, but in true chittering-fashion did ladle compliments onto her. The better to later usurp-take the seat by winning-convincing her allies. Qit of course voted with his sometimes-lover, and she was now up to sixteen.
The other two Skaven hesitated, clearly torn, but once the vote was over it made sense, and reluctantly they voted for her. She noted them down as probably weak allies, all things considered. A thin margin, all the same.
The Dragon, surprisingly nobody, voted for herself.
This finally left Teyoti. The strange Lizard-thing sat for a full minute and then said, through translators, "I vote for Andratse because she is the winner."
And with that, it was over…
Nineteen votes of twenty-nine.
She was the leader of the Governing Council, which would meet once a week. Which would decide the fate of everyone in the Republic.
Now, the real work had begun.
(Desperate Time/Founding Grace: +1 action in all categories for the first six months.)
Martial Actions
Choose 3
[] [Martial] Counting Heads: At the moment the Governing Council does not know exactly how many troops of each kind, or even the total number. It is embarrassing, and perhaps even humiliating, but the revolution was quick and chaotic and so there is a lot left undone. Stat(s): Learning, DC: 10 Results: Get an actual handle on troop numbers and composition available , Traits: (General)
[] [Martial] Armored Ogres: While you know very little about Ogres, you do know that basically nobody works best unarmored and vulnerable. But while it is hard-difficult to think of being able to get enough armor for all the Manlings, or all the Skaven, there are only so many Ogres and while huge, armoring them even decently would make them much more deadly. Stat(s): Stewardship, Result: Ogres are armored in crude but probably better than their usual armor. Traits: (Ogre)
[] [Martial] Blackpowder Woes: A number of Manling guns have survived. Not many, and they are of course inferior to Warplock products. But in order to get them all to work, something else is needed: gunpowder. Start looking into figuring out how you can get more of that. Stat(s): Learning, DC: 10/30/50, Results: Start looking for sources of gunpowder. Traits: (Manling)
[] [Martial] Wheels of Doom: During the battle, the counter-revolutionary forces deployed a Doomwheel. It wrecked and then went on fire, but there are some who think it can be salvaged! If it was able to be, it could be a very useful device, if a temperamental one. Stat(s): Learning, DC 20/40/80, Result: Look at the Doomwheel, see if it can't be repaired. Traits: (Skaven)
[] [Martial] Sticks and Stones: Gnoblar and Night Goblins both have creatures they herd, and they both have to fight off predators now and again. Both Squigs and Rhinoxen can mostly take care of themselves, but some Gnoblar do make a habit of using slings and rocks. You could have a few train up with it, either to guard herds once more or fight in battle. Stat(s): Martial, DC: 25, Result: Recruit small squad of Gnoblar Slingests. Trait: (Gnoblar)
[] [Martial] Rebuildin' Defenses--Traps 1: Traps! Skaven are very good at traps, and the ways to trick others. But now that there are enemies outside, it is time to put the traps back in order that existed. Hopefully without anyrat dying. Stat(s): Martial, Intrigue, DC: 25/50/75 Martial, 20/40 Intrigue, Result: Rebuild some traps, get an idea of if there are any traps hanging around. Improve defenses. Trait (Skaven)
[] [Martial] Rebuildin' Defenses--Walls 1: Manlings and Dwarf-things like walls, oh yes. Skaven had walls too, but didn't trust them THAT much, no-no. But it would make the Dwarfs happy, and it is certainly protection. Stats(s): Martial, DC 20/40/60, Result: Rebuild some crude walls, get some more defenses of the new Republic. Traits: (Mountain Dwarf, Chaos Dwarf, Manling)
[] [Martial] Bringing The Storm: The Stormvermin mostly either fled with their lords or died, but nearly two dozen did not. What should be done with them? They're too few to become an elite unit, but should they become trainers? Sergeants amid less-trained rats? Bodyguards? Stat (s): Martial, DC: Automatic, Traits: (Skaven)
[] [Martial] Arming the Slaverats: Most Slaverats have weapons. Most. And this is unacceptable, arm up all the slaverats and all other rats who want to fight from the stockpile of weapons left, even if it's simple iron weapons… for now. Stat (s): Martial, DC: 10, Traits: (Skaven)
[] [Martial] Great Badlands Warpstone Hunt: Warpstone meteor Hunting Parties were a common part of Skaven life, if a very lethal and dangerous one. But with allies and friends, perhaps it can be less dangerous. And there's certainly a… need for it. Stat (s): Martial, DC: Variable, Traits: (Skaven) (Dangerous)
[] [Martial] Hunting Parties: One of the daily evils of the old government was sending slaves armed with cheap weapons or nothing at all to hunt animals. The desperate and strong caught the strange and horrible beasts of the wilderness, and the weak died and thus did not need to be fed, and so it was a net of meat. But with a dragon now demanding bits of Chimera and a population of Ogres very, very hungry… perhaps it's time to do so with better weapons. Stat(s) Martial, DC: Variable, Traits: (General) (Dangerous), Result
[] [Martial] Military Scouting Westward Underground: There is not much that way, but there are a number of nests and several hundred Skaven. Send some scouts and perhaps one could integrate them or see if they were going to be any trouble… and hear any news from the rest of the (form?) Under-Empire. Stat(s): Martial, DC: Variable, Traits: (Skaven) (General) (Fire Dwarf) Results: Scout westward with military forces/scouts.
[] [Martial] Martial Scouting Eastward Underground: Craventail fled that way with far too many Stormvermin. The tunnels east all the way to the edges of the border with the Fire Dwarves are a series of raiding outposts and more, with somewhat over two-thousand Skaven present at one tiny community or fortress or another. Figure out what's going on there in military force, and pave the way for future operations. Stat(s): Martial, DC: Variable, Traits: (Skaven) (General), Results: Scout eastward/south-east with military forces/scouts.
[] [Martial] Martial Scouting Down South: A Grey Seer, and a vicious one, fled that way with a retinue and other allies. That area is dangerous, as anyrat knows. It is full of strange bloodsuckers, and odd occurrences on the surface that sometimes make their way down, and if you keep on going south--underground, of course--you eventually reach mountains where Draogns live. Stat(s): Martial, DC: Variable, Traits: (General) (Skaven) Results: Scout down south with military force/scouts.
[] [Martial] Military Scouting Northward: Through the tunnels north, one comes to a land of Night Goblins. They have been particularly angry lately at the slave raids, and they have begun to press on the Fortresses and nests, perhaps 1500 strong, of Skaven that were there to raid and steal from them and take slaves of them. Now the Night Goblins might press further in… and these nests might be desperate. Stat(s): Martial, DC: Varaible, Traits (General), Results: Scout northward with military force/scouts.
[] [Martial] Where-House: One of the oddest mysteries of Clan Rictus is that in their last few years they began to hide-scurry away warehouses at the corner of the Warren, supposedly guarded by fiendish traps! What lies within these hidden warehouses? Food? Treasure? Weapons? Nobody knows! Put together a team to seek it out! Stat(s): Stewardship, Intrigue, Martial, Learning, DC: Variable, better roll means better team, Traits: (Skaven) (Dangerous), Result: Mini-turn of raiding the warehouse, find ??
Diplomacy
Choose 2
[] [Diplomacy] Dwarf Friendship!: Surely there is something wrong with Mountain Dwarfs and Fire Dwarfs for hating each other. It is best to try to nip this in the bud by talking to them and making sure they both know there's no hard feelings over… whatever it is. Stat(s): Diplomacy, DC: 0, Result: Harmony and cooperation are sure to follow!
[] [Diplomacy] Language Woes: There are many languages in this new Republic. How many, though? You don't even know, which means you can't even know how to teach them or what to teach or more. Find out. Stat(s): Learning, DC: 10/20/30/40/50, Traits: (General)
[] [Diplomacy] Manling Divisions: What are the things that divide Manlings from each other. Clearly, they are not from one group, and Skaven are vaguely aware of nations, but it would do well to figure out just what is dividing them and how. They will be important links and ties to parts of the rest of the world, and if they remain as fractious as they are now, it does not good. Stat(s): Diplomacy, DC: 10/40/60/80/100, Traits: (General) (Manling) Results: Hopefully learn what's going on.
[] [Diplomacy] Banners and Symbols: A New Republic needs new symbols. While there is no time for elaborate ceremonies or pieces of paper--paper is scarce, besides--it would not be hard to work on some common symbols and some common means of marking one out. It might even be useful in the fights to come. Stats: N/A, DC: Automatic, Traits: (General) Results: Get a banner, flag, and other such symbols.
[] [Diplomacy] Merchants: Passing Merchants are already aware that if they pass through there is a high chance to be forced to pay a toll. People came because it was better than the alternatives, and losing some is better than losing all. Apparently in the last year or so Clan Rictus suddenly went from 'taxes' of Half or maybe two-thirds to almost all. It is time to tell merchants that this has changed... carefully. Stat(s): Diplomacy, DC: Variable, Traits: (Manling), Results: Talk to trading caravans and more... see what happens.
[] [Diplomacy] Send Diplomats North: These fortresses and raiding communities might also be scared and hard-pressed. A kind word at this point... or at least a threatening word of the right sort, could open up all sorts of relations with them or even convince them to remain part of the Republic. Stat(s): Diplomacy, DC: 10/30/50, Traits: (Fire Dwarf) (Skaven)
[] [Diplomacy] Send Diplomats West: These places at the very edge of control, and not highly populated, would be easy to integrate with even a bit of good will, and easy to break apart with just a breath of air. A careful word can do much. Stat(s): Diplomacy, DC: ???, Traits: (General), Results: Make contact with the Skaven beneath the earth to the west, along the road towards the Under-Empire.
[] [Diplomacy] Send Diplomats East: Down that way went Craventail. But perhaps there is a way to avoid conflict. If diplomats scurry onward, or rather talky-rats of various kinds, perhaps they can convince the raiders to give up Craventail? Stat (s): Diplomacy, Intrigue, DC: ???, Traits (Skaven), Results: Attempt to exert pressure on the raiding fortresses and nests eastward.
[] [Diplomacy] Complaint Box: At the moment there are few ways to fully deal with disagreements between communities. Perhaps creating positions and places to vent greviances would help, or perhaps it'd only lead to increased tension. But it needs to be looked into. Stat(s): Diplomacy, DC: 10/25/40/50/70/90, Traits (General), Results: Create complaints box, shouty box, place to go ramble about nonsense, etc, hear more local rumors/etc.
Stewardship
Choose 3
[] [Stewardship] Restarting the Mines, Part 1: None wishes to work in bad conditions and exhaustion anymore, but at the same time the mines provide the bronze and tin, the iron and other goods that are turned into the weapons of war and the things of peace. First is finding those with the skills that still wish to use them. Stat(s): Stewardship, Diplomacy, DC: Variable, Result: Find miners?
[] [Stewardship] Furniture of Stone and Bone: While the Republic has plenty of nicer-housing by Skaven standards, there are a number of things it lacks that a Manling would like, as would some Dwarfs, so perhaps you can ask around and have some people spend time working it out. Stat(s) Stewardship, DC: 25, Traits (Manling, Mountain Dwarf) Result: Build furniture, make homes more home-y.
[] [Stewardship] Collecting Rainwater: Despite expectations, it does rain in the Dark Lands. But it is acidic, sickly rain. Still useful, if filtered, and even a tiny bit of rain--for it doesn't rain MUCH--could be useful. Stat(s) Stewardship, DC 10, Results: Collection of Rainwater begins. Traits: (General)
[] [Stewardship] Searching For Wells: Wells are where most of the water that the Skaven used comes from. They dug deep, and found water, and if most of it wound up being of bad quality, that did not matter. Now if they expand further and do not keep slaves dehydrated and miserable, and especially if they begin growing more mushrooms and other crops, they'll need more water. Stat(s) Stewardship, DC: ???, Results: Find water underground even deeper down, hopefully. Maybe. Traits (General)
[] [Stewardship] Rhinoxen Ahoy: Gnoblars are most famous for herding and dealing with Rhinoxen, and they had a few that they took care of in their time as slaves. But the Gnoblar wish to expand this operation. It will take months, and likely the better part of a year or more, before it truly begins to bear fruit, if the 'fruit' is Rhinoxen that can be eaten without essentially killing any hope for future food. But it may well be worth it. Stat(s) Stewardship, DC 30, Results: Rhinoxen herding begins up again, Traits (Gnoblar)
[] [Stewardship] Fed On Bullshit: The vast mushroom farms were fed on the corpses of slaves and on shit, but they kept one alive… barely, and it was a miserable existence, for Manlings hated the taste. Everyone did. But these mushrooms are still needed, and they need to find people to care for them without quite so many dead bodies as fertilizer, Stat(s): Stewardship, Learning, DC: 25/50/75/100, Results: Mushroom crop keeps on going, food output there does not decrease, Traits (Night Goblin, Skaven, General)
[] [Stewardship] Growing Pangs: For reasons that the Halflings do not understand ,the Skaven had them growing a small garden outside. It was not much food, it being the terrible soil and bad weather of the area, and even when it didn't get them carried away by monsters it barely fed the Halflings tending it and then their family and other Halfling cooks. But then… why have it? Stat(s): Stewardship, Learning, DC: ???, Result: Figure out what's up with the farming and if it's even vaguely viable??, Traits (Hafling, Skaven)
[] [Stewardship] Great Badlands Warpstone Hunt: Warpstone meteor Hunting Parties were a common part of Skaven life, if a very lethal and dangerous one. But with allies and friends, perhaps it can be less dangerous. And there's certainly a… need for it. Stat (s): Martial, DC: Variable, Traits: (Skaven) (Dangerous) Results: Warpstone, hopefully
[] [Stewardship] Hunting Parties: One of the daily evils of the old government was sending slaves armed with cheap weapons or nothing at all to hunt animals. The desperate and strong caught the strange and horrible beasts of the wilderness, and the weak died and thus did not need to be fed, and so it was a net of meat. But with a dragon now demanding bits of Chimera and a population of Ogres very, very hungry… perhaps it's time to do so with better weapons. Stat(s) Martial, DC: Variable, Traits: (General) (Dangerous) Results: Food?
[] [Stewardship] Firing Up The Forges: While the mines will need to be reopened eventually… for now there is still a pretty large surplus of metals. They could be made into ores, they could be made into all sorts of things… Stat(s): Stewardship, DC: 20, Traits: (Fire Dwarf, Mountain Dwarf, Dragon), Result: Gain processed metal, can make yet further weapons, armor, and more.
[] [Stewardship] Grub Hub: At the moment what food comes in is just taken every which way, but it might make sense to have a central (guarded) location to store the food so that it can be divided out among those who need it, just to reduce confusion and double-counting and so on. Stat(s): Stewardship, DC: 5, Traits: (General) Result: Central storehouse for all that food made.
[] [Stewardship] Wash Away Your Sins: Many are the people who wish they could bathe more often. It would waste water that is in good supply now, but might not be in the months to come, but if a huge bath was used for communal bathing or some sort of 'rain' system or something, it could at least be reduced. Stat(s): Stewardship, DC: 10, Traits: (General), Results: Everyone has a bath, can maybe afford a monthly bath for everyone with the water supply as it is.
[] [Stewardship] Only You Can Prevent…: One of the little annoyances of the time before the Republic was that people stored Warpstone and explosives very near each other, and there were no railings for the mine pits and… a dozen little things. Fix these, Stat(s): Stewardship, DC: 10/20/30/40, Traits: (General) (Safe), Results: Create a few basic bits of commonsense safety.
[] [Stewardship] Guard Warpstone: Warpstone is a thing that some rat-Skaven are addicted to, and it is a scarce resource. Set up loyal (hopefully) guards around it that aren't interested--maybe Orcs, they don't tend to care about it--or something in order to make sure that none of it goes missing. Stat(s): Stewardship, Martial, DC: 25, Traits: (Skaven), Results: Guard the Strategic Warpstone Supply!
[] [Stewardship] Counting Coins: How much manling-wealth and Dwarf-wealth do you have? You don't even know. You can't see the purpose of trading it amongst each other, but the merchants that pass by will ask for it if they are bought from, and they'll give it if tolls are still extracted, which they should be. Stat(s): N/A, DC: Automatic, Traits (General), Result: See how many coins-treasures you have?
[] [Stewardship] Cafeteria Food: There have been arguments that there should be eating halls outside of the individual quarters for the different races, so that they can eat together, or at least in the same location. Though whether this would achieve anything is much-debated. Stat(s): Stewardship, DC: Variable, Traits (Skaven), Result: Dining Halls made, with tables and presumably just food laid out.
[] [Stewardship] Get Gud Scrub: While ratfur and leather from animals provide some of it, most of the scraps of clothing granted to Manlings, Skaven, and more are made by collecting and then working on the scrub-grass outside, gathered in huge quantities, the one harvest that never seems to run dry. Manlings and others have been complaining about the lack of clothing for some reason-purpose. Perhaps change that? Stat(s): Stewardship, DC: 20, Traits (Manlings) (Hafllings) (Mountain Dwarves) (Fire Dwarves), Result: Begin to get a small supply of rough but functional clothing to help better clad all sorts of people.
[] [Stewardship] Where-House: One of the oddest mysteries of Clan Rictus is that in their last few years they began to hide-scurry away warehouses at the corner of the Warren, supposedly guarded by fiendish traps! What lies within these hidden warehouses? Food? Treasure? Weapons? Nobody knows! Put together a team to seek it out! Stat(s): Stewardship, Intrigue, Martial, Learning, DC: Variable, better roll means better team, Traits: (Skaven) (Dangerous) Result: Mini-turn of raiding the warehouse, find ??
Intrigue
Choose 2
[] [Intrigue] Hunting Out Hiders: At least a few coward-idiots of the old regime did not flee far, but instead hid in the area, no doubt seeking to skulk about. Hunt them down to punish them! Stat(s): Intrigue, DC: 20/40/60, Traits: (Skaven) (General), Results: Hunt out any remaining figures of the old order still hiding about.
[] [Intrigue] Finding Remaining Traps: The old order left traps everywhere, and these might hurt Skaven or others who fall into them. Find them and neutralize them for the moment, leave no stone unturned. Stat(s): Intrigue, DC: 25/50/75, Traits: (General), (Dangerous)Results: Find and hopefully neutralize any traps.
[] [Intrigue] A Poison Pill: Night Goblins and Skaven alike are very good at poison. Perhaps the herb gardens of poison and the other methods should be maintained, both for intelligence operations and potentially to be used on weapons. It is not honorable, by the standards of some, but victory is the highest honor! Stat(S): Intrigue, Learning, DC: Variable, Traits (Night Goblin) (Skaven) (Sneaky)
[] [Intrigue] Look Into…: Look at one of the other races. A little bit of light, polite-spying, just see what they're up to. Stat(s): Intrigue, DC: ???, Traits(s) (Sneaky) (Skaven), Result: Potentially learn some about a particular Race. Pick one when choosing this option.
[] [Intrigue] Talking To Captives: You have captured at least some rat-cowards of the ruling class. Talk to them… interrogate them rather, and see whether they know anything. There are many things that don't quite make sense. Stat(s): Intrigue, DC: ???, Traits: (Skaven), Result: Gain information?
[] [Intrigue] Sneaky Rats North: One could send sneaky sorts, probably mostly Skaven, to check in on what is happening in the raiding-tunnels to the north! Stat(s): Intrigue, DC: 25/50, Traits (Skaven), Results: Gain information on what's happening north.
[] [Intrigue] Sneaky Rats South: The danger of the Grey Seer cannot be ignored, and very stealthy sorts could be sent that way to see what they can tell. Stat(s): Intrigue, DC: ???, Traits (General) (Skaven), Results: Gain information on what the Grey Seer is up to.
[] [Intrigue] Sneaky Rats West: There is no particular danger that way… but there might be opportunity. Send agents to the Nests and so on to the west, along the Under-Empire's roads, and see what they can learn. stat(s) Intrigue, DC: 20/40, Traits: (Skaven), Results: Gain information on what's going on in that direction.
[] [Intrigue] Sneaky Rats East: The Craventail went that way. Is he rallying the troops? Is he getting killed? You don't know! Try to find that out… sneakily. Stat(s), Intrigue, DC ???, Traits: (General), Results: Gain information on what's going on in that direction!
[] [Intrigue] Where-House: One of the oddest mysteries of Clan Rictus is that in their last few years they began to hide-scurry away warehouses at the corner of the Warren, supposedly guarded by fiendish traps! What lies within these hidden warehouses? Food? Treasure? Weapons? Nobody knows! Put together a team to seek it out! Stat(s): Stewardship, Intrigue, Martial, Learning, DC: Variable, better roll means better team, Traits: (Skaven) (Dangerous) Result: Mini-turn of raiding the warehouse, find ??
Learning
Choose 3
[] [Learning] Warpstone Refining, Part 1: Refining Warpstone is a very complicated process, and one the Grey Seers monopologized. Various Skaven workers did different smalls steps of it separately, and at key points the workers were driven out and only a small group remained to do the final steps… and then often be killed for it. So it will be hard work indeed to put together how it worked, but you have at least some of the pieces. Stat(s): Learning, Stewardship, DC: ???, Traits: (Skaven), Results: Begin to get an idea of how to refine Warpstone, figure out what you know and don't.
[] [Learning] Brooding On It--The Common Rat: The largest result of all of this was not the Broodmothers, not by numbers, but the common Skaven, some of whom were female and made infertile. See if the warpstone treatments and combinations are temporary, see if they can be undone in some way if they aren't, and figure out whether there's anything stopping you from simply not applying it from now on. Stat(s): Learning, DC: ???, Traits (Skaven), Result: Figure out more about the infertility treatments given to most Skaven women. Figure out what if anything can be done.
[] [Learning] Brooding On It--Looking at the Mothers: The Broodmothers are in a state of perpetual control, and a horrific one. Research and try to figure out exactly what was being done to them, and what combination of warpstones and chemicals that were involved in it, and what can be done. Stat(s): Learning, DC: ???, Traits: (Skaven), Results: Begin to figure out what was done to Broodmothers and if it can be undone.
[] [Learning] Manling Guns?: Man-things have guns of thier own sort, and even if they are not the quality of Skaven weapons, they're less intensive on Warpstone, and perhaps the Manlings present know anything about them. Stat(s): Learning, Diplomacy, DC: Variable, Traits (Manling), Result: Learn to see if any Manlings know how Manling guns work, potentially accidentally learn other things.
[] [Learning] Magic User Survey: How many magic users do you have? You don't know! This seems like a problem. Try to find out! Stat(s): Learning, Intrigue, Diplomacy, DC: Variable, Traits: (Magic) (General), Results: Get some of the numbers as to the magic users you have!
[] [Learning] Anyone Remember Ratlings?: Ratling Guns are not in rich supply, or much supply or… maybe any supply? But they're very effective and very cool, and so some Skaven want to pick their brains and see if they can figure it out. Stat(s): Learning, DC: ???, Traits: (Skaven), Results: Figure out what you know and don't know about Ratling guns.
[] [Learning] Big Book of Queekish, Part 1: Low Queekish is the most common common language across all of the Republic. While it is not known by all, many know it though few enough can write anything like it outside of Skaven. Create a book filled with translations and language tips and then if you have that someone could teach out of it. Stat(s): Learning, DC: Variable, Traits (Skaven), Results: Create a dictionary/translation book, or at least the starting notes for one.
[] [Learning] The World Before, Part 1: It is not going to be easy, and there's a distinct lack of good parchment or so on to write it all down, but get stories from those who were slaves about their lives before. Learn a little about the world or at least the world as these various people saw it. Stat(s): Learning, Diplomacy DC: Variable, Traits (General), Results: Hear the stories of what the world was like for those before they became slaves, or at least some stories.
[] [Learning] Annals of the Revolution, Part 1: The stories people tell of revolution and uprising need to be remembered, whether written down or simply as stories remembered and passed along. It would also be a good way to get to know people, to be honest! Stat(s): Learning, Diplomacy, DC: 5/15/30/45/60, Traits (General), Results: Hear the stories of the revolution and get a picture of what has happened.
[] [Learning] Organizing the Scrolls: Any Skaven bureaucracy produces a lot of scrolls and non-tree paper and so on, and they are in completely disarray. Look through them… at this point you can't even know what you don't know. Stat(s): Learning, DC: 10/20/30/40/50/60/75/80/100, Traits (General) (Skaven), Results: Organize the paperwork and find out just what is buried away.
[] [Learning] Mountain Dwarven Knowledge: The Dwarfs of the Mountain know many things, though how willing they are to share literally anything, even the smallest scrap of anything, is unknown. But if you don't try, you can't know, and can't figure out what you need to do. Stat(s): Learning, Diplomacy, DC: ???, Traits (Mountain Dwarfs), Result: ???
[] [Learning] What are Lizardmen?: No seriously, what are they?! Talk to them, figure it out! Stat(s): Learning, Diplomacy, DC: ???, Trait(s): (Lizardmen), Result: ???
[] [Learning] Maps From Memory: Many-many rats went all over, use their memories of what this warren and nearby areas were like to create a better… or at least vaguely functioning, map of the Underground. Stat(s): Learning, DC: 15/30/45/60, Trait(s) Skaven, Results: Get better maps!
[] [Learning] The Great Rat Literacy Drive, Part 1:Many-many rats are not literate, especially former Slaverats. This is something that can be dealt with, can be solved… though it'll take time. Stats: Learning, DC: 25, Trait(s): (Skaven), Results: Begin a Skaven literacy program!
[] [Learning] What's Mine Is Mine: The Skaven use all sorts of mining technologies, from some limited railways for goods to a number of digging devices that use Warpstone. Figure out how to maintain those, and see what it would take to make more of them. Stat(s): Learning, DC: 25/50/75, Trait(s): Skaven, Results: Fix up mining equipment, learn how to make more of it. Consider other possible uses.
[] [Learning] Too Many Apples: One of the things the Republic lacks is anything like a doctor. Sick Skaven just got better or died, wounded Skaven mostly ditto. And of course the non-Skaven were treated even worse. There were some strange figures that treated the elite, but no more than that. Figure out what can be done with regards to doctors, healers, and so on. Stat(s): Learning, DC: 10/30/50/70, Trait(s): (Skaven) (General), Result: Find doctors, learn what you're missing to the extent that you don't.
[] [Learning] Anatomy of a Rat: Generally Skaven eat their foes and dead too quickly, but there are a few left over, and some of the more tinkery Skaven are curious about what a Skaven's anatomy is, and what their body is like. Let them do the experiments. Stat(s): Learning, DC: 25/50/75, Traits (Skaven), Results: Learn more about Skaven anatomy!
[] [Learning] Where-House: One of the oddest mysteries of Clan Rictus is that in their last few years they began to hide-scurry away warehouses at the corner of the Warren, supposedly guarded by fiendish traps! What lies within these hidden warehouses? Food? Treasure? Weapons? Nobody knows! Put together a team to seek it out! Stat(s): Stewardship, Intrigue, Martial, Learning, DC: Variable, better roll means better team, Traits: (Skaven) (Dangerous) Result: Mini-turn of raiding the warehouse, find ??
Piety
Choose 2
[] [Piety] Finding Priests: There aren't any priests on the Council, not that can be noticed, but there is still a need to deal with… religious problems of all sorts. Right now so little is known that even knowing what religious problems there are is not at all clear. Time to change that. Stat(s): Piety, Diplomacy, DC: 20/40/60/80/100, Trait(s): (General), Result: Find some potential non-Council religious advisors, learn a bit more about the general level of piety in the Republic.
[] [Piety] Manling Religions?: Manlings/Man-Things have too many religions. Even just learning the name of each of the ones worshipped and what they're about will take weeks of digging because Man-Things have so many of them. Stat(s): Piety, DC: 10, Trait(s): (Human), Results: Learn what Man-Thing religions are present, at least from some!
[] [Piety] Hunting Down Horned Rat Reactionaries: There are still some enemies within that might believe in the Horned Rat… or rather think it was a tragedy he disappeared. Sneaky sorts, allied with the fled reactionaries. Find them out, hunt them down, and punish them. Stat(s): Piety, Intrigue, Traits(s): (Skaven), Results: Find hidden reactionaries and others.
[] [Piety] Temple Assistence?: Each quarter has been doing its own work building religious places and so on. But perhaps the Governing Council could assist with building them and speed it up? Stat(s): Piety, Stewardship, DC: Variable, Trait(s) (General), Results: Potentially help speed up the construction of temples.
[] [Piety] Burial With Honor?!: Many died-suffered during the war, and some were buried and among Skaven most were eaten-mourned. But there are still some left to bury, and even more there are some strange sorts who want to create Burial-Place, where food is put into the ground to be wasted, or burned up but not to be used as fuel. Weird. Stat(s): Learning, Piety, DC: 20, Trait(s): General, Results: Get… something like a graveyard.
[] [Piety] Black Gold?: Some of the Fire Dwarves who have not rejected their God have tried to meet with the Council Leader, saying that the one they elected, while wise in many respects, is missing something. The legendary "black gold" a form of dark rock that is burnt to fuel the machines of the Fire Dwarves, surely must be present in the mountain, though no Skaven can report anything like it being seen, and the Fire Dwarf leader says the same. Stat(s): Piety, DC: ???, Trait(s) (Fire Dwarf), Results: Find Black Gold?
[] [Piety] Beings of Chaos?: These Chaos Gods are strange. Learn and ask about them, figure out just what they are. If anyone knows? Stat(s): Piety, Intrigue, DC: ???, Trait(s): (Dangerous) (Skaven), Results: Learn more about the Chaos Gods.
[] [Piety] A Civic Religion: Why shouldn't the Piebald Republic have songs as some religions do? Or big waving banners and rituals and stuff. Nobody's quite sure what kind of ritual, but surely it'd bring everyone together? Stat(s): Piety, DC: ???, Trait(s): (General), Results: Begin looking into the idea of rituals and practices meant to reinforce trust in the Republic.
[] [Piety] Dork and… Fork?: Orcs have gods, and there are two of them that are brother-things or something? The Skaven are pretty sure that one of them is called Dork or Mort or something? But which is which? Stat(s): Piety, Learning, DC: ???, Traits (Orc), Result: Learn about Fart and Mart, or whatever their names are. Learn to tell them apart.
Personal
Choose 2
[] [Personal] Broodguard: Whatever happens, you were a Brood Guard first, and there are still Broodmothers in what might be their final pregnancy, but is certainly the last such brood under a tyrannical system. In the next two months, the babies will be born out into the world. Guard them, protect them, make sure that nothing happens to upset them or cause problems. Result: Watch over the Broodmothers, make sure there are no problems, ???
[] [Personal] A Better Tail-Blade: The tail-blade that Andratse has is quite functional. It's not bad at its job… but it could be better. While some of the 'innovations' to it are more about status and making it prettier, others provide just that little extra edge. Result: Obtain a better Tail-Blade, increasing its bonus to Personal Combat by 1.
[] [Personal] Armored Improvements: The armor that Andratse uses now are less than ideal. Even a somewhat better set of armor might prove all the difference. Stat: NA, roll d100 flat, Result: Variable, obtain better armor, how much better depends on luck of the roll.
[] [Personal] Help Out: Andratse does not know when to relax. Can do one extra action in any category using her stats. Can only take once per turn.
[] [Personal] Oh for a Dwarf of Fire: that would ascend, the brightest heaven of invention. A Republic for a stage, Councilors to act, and Council Leaders to behold a swelling scene. Stat(s): ???, Result: Talk to K'Daaigak.
[] [Personal] Elves: Elves are wonderful, they provoke wonder. They are marvelous, they cause marvels. Elves are glamorous, they project glamours. Elves are enchanting, they weave enchantment. Elves are terrific, they beget terror. Stat(s) Diplomacy, Learning Result: Talk to the Elf-things and figure out what's going on there.
[] [Personal] Talking to Dragons: An adventure, they say, is not worth telling if there are not any dragons in it. Stat(s): Diplomacy, Result: Talk to the Dragons and figure out what they want and why they are here.
[] [Personal] 'Ere We Go: The Orcs are allies, but odd allies… indeed, until a few years ago Clan Rictus never took Orc slaves at all. This is very strange, very unusual, and worth looking into. Stat(s): Martial, Personal Combat, Orcs respect these more than pretty words,
[] [Personal] Concerning Halflings: Halflings must seem of little importance. They are neither renowned as great warriors, nor counted among the very wise. Yet they are a most hardy folk, and share a love of things that grow. Stat(s): Diplomacy, Stewardship, Result: Talk to the Halflings personally, and see just what they're up to.
****
A/N: Vote by PLANS. If you have two advisors on the same action, note one as [Secondary] when listing it, ala.
[] [Diplomacy] Do a funny dance.
-[] Dancemaster the Ugly
-[] [Secondary] Songmaster the High-Pitched
If you pick an action without assigning a Councilor, as you'll have to do in Piety, it will just roll a flat d100.
You can take related actions in multiple categories, as in the different 'looking other ways' options can stack and synergize, but you can't take, say, Where-house in multiple categories because letting you over-egg that is kinda boring. You get the team you get whenever you do it.
Please ask questions. I know this is a lot.
They met in an old meeting hall, one that Clanrats had once scurried through leaving trails of their scent to look busy when their bosses came around. They'd made sure to scrub the entire room, to wash away any of the old scents. There would be no clan-leader scents in the hall anymore, nor any clerk-rats made to piddle the Musk of Fear for their overlords. It had to be expanded, especially with a dragon glaring in the corner, unable to sit at the table and giving up such heat that even standing near her was, if not dangerous, unpleasant.
A vast stone table had been laid out, and then in a corner in several niches was food of various sorts, piled high. A section for Manlings, Dwarfs, and Halflings, a section for Ogres, Greenskins of all kinds, a section for Lizardmen where guesses had been made and nothing eaten, and of course a section for Skaven. Of course, much of the food in different sections was largely the same. Andratse, called Twicetail for the speed of her tailblade, or Onesniff for the simplicity of her scent, looked at the gathering of mushrooms and meat and more. The Ogre had cleared out much of his buffet and then some, of course. This wasn't surprising. She could smell it too, the mushrooms and meats, and then the goblin-cheeses, and the most less fragrant non-goblin cheeses, and the surface-vegetables, barely present, smelling watery and sickly.
She sat at one part of this stone table, which was carefully staffed. The Mountain Dwarf and Fire Dwarf could not sit next to each other, nor could the Elves sit next to the Dwarfs, and from there it goes on. The Mountain Dwarf refuses to sit next to a Skaven, Elf, Orc or Fire Dwarf, one of the Manlings wanted to be next to a Dwarf, and so the whole thing had become an exercise in rabsurd balancing acts.
She hadn't been involved, being fine wherever she was put, but she'd read through it again and again. What a mess.
Many still seemed harried and grieved, which she could understand. All the past week or two there had been gatherings where food was cried over as if it were the person, even though surely whatever they are had fled long ago. But she knew that other races didn't see it that way, and if they were odd they were also friend-things, and she scanned the crowd.
Daled Clawhammer, the Mountain Dwarf, quaffed a mushroom beer with a look of intense and almost unbelivable distrust at everyone around him. He had cried no tears, and smelled not of sorrow and greef but of beer. To his right was Rupert von Hummingburg, a Manling who seemed to speak "Reikspiel" and had been a mercenary, and was seated next to the Ogre, Argrush Chimeraeater Linebreaker Cannonball Catcher the Huge, who sat next to a quiet Gnoblar whose name was… Gvani Nosebiter, or something like that, whose nose seemed slightly shorter than that of the other Gnoblar, Dapstod Dewgum, who was seated far away from the Ogre.
Argrush was supposed to be kind, in the fashion of an Ogre, and he had won his challenges for leadership without killing and eating his foes. Andraste knows that eating the dead is thought bad, though she does not fully understand it. But she can understand why killing someone to eat them was wrong. All over, people chittered and chattered, though the Skaven like herself were clustered thanks to Dwarfish and Manling and other… feelings.
Of course, Zharoth K'Daaigak, the Fire Dwarf, seemed happy to sit among the Skaven, smelling of beer as well and oil. He actually met her eyes when she looked over towards her and nodded, though he glowered towards the elves down his side of the table after a moment. He was a beardy fellow, with his long beard just starting to go grey, and his tusks rather impressive indeed.
As people talked, translators tried to bring it all around so that all could understand, to mixed success.
The cluster of translators was very necessary, even for Andratse. She was hardly used to all of the rapid-fire languages being shot her way. Her knowledge of any one of them was not bad, but it was not up to this great task. Nobody's was, probably, because everyone went through several translators to talk to anyone else. But now they were all settled down and seated, except...
Not quite.
The four elves stood behind a single chair. Each was a precisely equal distance apart. Andratse had a good sense of space and distance from her work with a spear, and so she could tell that each had intentionally stood equally far apart from each other while being, as much as possible, equally far from the chair for the Elves' seat, or equally close. The chair was unoccupied.
She did not understand it at all, but Elf-things were odd, there was no getting around it. But they were allies, at least hopefully, if they could be made to work together.
They had suffered greatly, even beyond their capacity and incredibly long lives. All had suffered, but they had been kept alive for years longer than most others. Andratse cannot say why, but perhaps there was some reason. And she does know that in recent years they have been taking stranger and stranger slaves. She's heard middle-rats complain about it while going about their business, stood away from then with her spear well at hand and her tail-blade lashing against the ground.
But there was a lot that she did not yet understand. She had to blink through sleep, because she'd spent all the previous night looking over the seating chart to figure out how the vote is going to go.
"Do not worry, yes-yes," Sarry Inkclaws said, her namesake dominating her scent once you got over the other musk, wiggling her fingers and tapping against the table in a rhythm. "You'll do good-fine, yes-yes."
Andratse nodded, and then she felt it, the shifting that told her the meeting was about to begin. She could smell it, the anticipation--and alcohol--almost wafting off of K'Daaigak.
Sarry clambered up on top of the table. She was dressed in rag-robes of sorts, unarmed and unworried, whereas Andratse couldn't have imagined going to such a meeting without the Broodguards at her back, her sisters who defended her. She had a knife in her belt and a blade, woven and carefully positioned, on her tail. But she couldn't bring her spear because Rupert had sworn he would bring no weapons other than his knife, so long as he could bring one guard.
And so it had gone. Everyone was suspicious of each other, but nobody wanted to appear to be the one planning to turn this voting-fight into a fight-fight.
"Attention, attention, yes-yes, Manlings, Dwarf-things, Elf-things, Goblin-things, friends all! This is the first meeting of the Governing Council," Sarry yelled out, her words translated by the others. She paced back and forth. "We must chose Council-Leader first, to help-help organize things. Council Leader is not to be a King or overlord, Tyrant or Warboss, but to help balance Council and set agenda, talk-talk to everyone, work-work-work."
Andratse nodded to herself at this.
"So we are acepting nominations," she chittered, her Queekish fast and fluid, and translated into various languages. "People-persons should nominate-select themselves and explain why they are a good-good candidate! When all nominations in,voting will start and go around table. If no candidate has a majority, then lowest candidates will drop out, yes-yes, and their supporters will vote for next."
There were nods all around, since everyone had already been told this in advance. But before anyone could speak, a dragon's voice rumbled out.
"I will be voting for myself," Getrarch rumbled, the dragon looking from one of them to the next. She was huge, a red-black dragon of the sort they called Magma Dragons, at least among Man-Things. She smelled of smoke and death, and even Andratse felt the urge to make the Musk of Fear when near the dragon.
"Would you like to say-speak more?" Sarry asked, after a pause in which nobody spoke.
"No."
There was another moment of hesitation, and then Rupert spoke up. He was a strange man-thing, tall and well-muscled, with a bushy beard and scraggly yellow hair but with wild blue eyes, and he smelled always faintly of sweat and some human version of the Musk of Battle. He was still dressed in rags, partially, but he'd managed to find armor and so he stood, looking around carefully. "People of this new Republic. Our only hope is our bonds with those merchants trading around here and our indomitable spirit and strong arm. I, Rupert von Hummingburg, am a talented mercenary and--"
Pious something? She did not know the name of the God.
"And thus I stand for you and will fight for you. Choose me to advance this Republic further and faster, that we might enrich ourselves on the plenty of trade with those passing merchants and in doing so make this a Republic greater than any that could ever be dreamed in the Old World."
A Skaven clapped, as did Josiah Fuerburgh, the merchant, and the Mountain Dwarf Clawhammer slammed his hand once on the table before taking another swig of grog.
One of the elves turned to a Man-thing that was waiting to translate and spoke. Then the others spoke, and after a long moment the Man-thing swallowed and hurried over to Sarry. It was a young man, maybe even just a boy, and he wrinkled his nose at Sarry's complex odor, the sort of smell that any good Skaven knew was quite fascinating, but which Man-things seemed to hate, and whispered it in her air.
"Elf-things make argument that they are oldest-wisest, and that therefore Council should-must vote for Elf so wisdom can be shared. Elves think-declare that once they are chosen they will decide among themselves as to the leadership."
Both of the dwarfs snorted angrily at the very same moment, and then turned to each other to glare in pure fury… at the same time.
Andratse hardly thought much of the argument either, standing there as everyone chittered and reacted.
Then the Fire Dwarf cleared his throat and spoke. Through translation, this is what he said, to the best of her knowledge.
"We must go forward and create an Empire of Liberty, one that can dominate and conquer the whole of the area. Hashut rejected me all these long years, declared me unworthy by keeping me in captivity. But I am dwarf who knows many things, who has knowledge such that can advance this Republic into a powerful and just Empire without slaves because all work together to conquer the region from those who will not join us and do not share our values. While some of my comrades still worship Hashut, they are fools and will have their foolish beliefs destroyed just as soon we shall learn how the Horned Rat was killed and replicate it upon Hashut, killing another God and seizing its throne for ourselves! Hashut and the Dwarves of Fire cast me out, did they? We'll they'll pay! They'll all pay!" A pause, and then as if he remembered that he was trying to convince other people, "And then we shall all prosper, of course. Together."
The room sat there in stunned silence as K'Daaigak finished his drink.
"This sounds dangerous-bad," Chittertongue the "Aledancer" declaimed. He doesn't like Andratse, and has made it clear. He's a talkative sort, unlike her, named that way because he'd danced and dined with Manlings and more while trying to make the alliance work. This had weakened him among Skavens, but there were still a few Skaven looking towards him… and plenty outside the Council in the warrens who had voted for him up to this point, or he would not be here. "It is best to focus on each of the Races getting along within the Republic together. We talk-argue and bicker-bicker, but we must agree-decide or else we will die-perish. I have brought-strung the various groups together and I will stand and fight-struggle to bring them together. Only then can we defend-protect ourselves." He paused, as a few Skaven bruxxed either from nervousness or in agreement: in the Under-Empire the two had been hard to differentiate sometimes. "Beyond Grey Seer and Craventail we need not fight with others, but reap the reward-benefit of trade routes and friendship. I am Chittertongue, and you know-understand me. I did good-good work bringing all the Races together, and I will-must continue. Rat-things, Man-things, Elf-things… we are all people with different cultures-beliefs, but together we can be stronger-better. Please, support my bid for Council Leader, and I will not let you down."
A few Skaven's hooted and chittered in agreement, and Rupert nodded, frowning thoughtfully. She suspected, while she was no political sort, that there was the seed of an alliance there. But only one of them could get the votes, and she knew that the Mountain Dwarf would not vote for Chittertongue, even if he hated the Skaven slightly less.
Andratse considered it, and when she saw nobody else was stepping out, she moved to climb onto the table. "I am Andratse, and I am candidate-nominee for this position-role because we must see-consider where we are. We are surrounded-threatened, and other candidates made good-good points. We must come to an agreement-accord with each other. We must know-understand the threat of the Dwarves of Fire. We must trade with the Man-Things and all others." She cleared her throat and stepped forward, looking over towards the Elves, who seemed baffled to be looked towards at all. "The Elf-Things are right as well, in a way: I do not think-advise they should be Council Leader, but they have wisdom-knowledge that we need to make use of if we are not to suffer-perish."
"We must adapt within and without," she says, nose turning up in a sort of display she realizes won't mean anything to half the people there. "Dozens of Orcs fought for the election, and one won. But the others did not die-perish, and instead their brutality-cunning will help win further battles and have better-good fights!" She looked over at the Orc, aware that this was a claim that could end badly. But the Orc frowned, perhaps very briefly considering it before grunting. "We Skaven have things we need to change now-now, Man-Things and Dwarf-things, Goblin-things and Elf-things all know it. But who am I to say-speak this?"
"The woman who kicked a Warlord in the balls," a woman said to her right, standing up as the translator blushed and belatedly translated it. She was Cui Chuntao, dressed in the same rags as anyone else, the third of the Man-thing council members. She was a Man-thing like the others, but a woman, and her furless skin was a slightly different shade than the others. She spoke a different tongue, too, and one that Andratse did not know.
And the Ogre started chuckling, and the Night Goblins hooting. They liked the idea.
"I have fought the enemies of the revolution, the worst-best of the old bad-bad ways. Yet I am a Brood Guard… and I ask for your nomination-support."
The Skaven knew what this meant, and knew what she was saying. She knew the future of their people, she could ensure it, help it along. She was trusted even with that… and while she'd been trusted by the Clan-leaders, now she could be trusted by Skaven too.
She moved to climb down, but there was enough chittering and cheering that she knew she was going to at least get a handful of votes.
*****
They'd start with the merchant, and then go to his right, until the Lizardman was last. Apparently next time there was such an election, they'd go in reverse order? Each person could vote and explain why, and then it'd move on.
Josiah Fuerburgh cleared his throat. He had apparently been a fat-big man-thing when he'd come in, but by now he was stick thin. "I believe in trade. I believe that Rupert is the best choice."
Then it went to Clawhammer. "Manlings I trust more than most here. It isn't much, they are Umgi, but we've been through a lot. Rupert."
"I'm voting for myself, I'd have to be pretty silly not to," Rupert said, with a shrug.
Andratse flicked her tail, not that concerned but aware that things could snowball.
The Ogre took a very long time to decide, just grunting and staring out. Finally he grunted out actual words, voice ringingly loud, "I liked Andratse."
The Gnoblar next to her stuck his huge nose in the air and looked nervously over at the Ogre. "I like her too!"
There were titters there, and while the Ogre had not made him agree with him, she had very few doubts that if the Ogre had decided for Rupert, followed ties of mercenary-friendship, so too would the Gnoblar.
The rat next to him was Feresh Longtail, though. He was a trainer, a scarred and grizzled rat that some found handsome and some not, and if she hadn't been there he would have been the clear martial leader among the Skaven Council members. His nose twitched, raised high up to be higher than Andratse's as he said, "Chittertongue."
Then a nervous Skaven leapt up. Barge-Up, the humans called her, and she said, "That Man-thing, Rupert, has the right-good idea of it, yes-yes."
Four to two to one.
The next Skaven voted her way, though, making it closer, before sinking back into the seat and pulling out a teeth-chewer to whittle away at front-teeth that were growing too long.
After only a slight hesitation, the Elves voted for themselves without explanation.
The surprisingly short Khret Broadborn, a Skaven who had been big at birth but hadn't grown as much, frowned for a moment and then voted for Andratse.
Zatch Cravenchaser, looking rather hungover burst out, "Chittertongue--" and then as they began to move on, "No, wait-wait, Andratse, yes-yes." And then looked at her, leaning towards her and smiling what was probably meant to be a seductive or charming grin.
Great.
Well, it was a vote, and it put Andratse ahead. But she'd have to ignore the stupid-idiot.
A Skaven miner, Khron Stonecrest, patted his thin stomach and talked for a while about hunger-want and then voted for Andratse, "If you work-work to get mines back up-up-up but better-good!"
K'Daaigak voted for himself, and Andratse took a moment to start doing the math. She had six, Chittertongue had two, Rupert had four, and then the Fire Dwarf and the Elves both had one. If it came to a run-off, Chittertongue and Rupert might combine. But if they did, then at least they were working together. There were worse outcomes.
Mother Drubapple was a skinny, odd sort. Andratse had talked to her beforehand, and the Halflings had voted fairly, as they should have, yes-yes. Halflings were very odd, and smelled just slightly different-weird, and she hadn't known which way Drubapple was leaning at the time. "I think all the choices could be good, but I'll vote for Rupert."
Iznos laughed, and the Orc loomed over almost everyone there and smelled of sweat and blood and then, faintly, of fungus as all Greenskins did: "Andratse, sure!"
Sarry had returned to her proper seat, and so Andratse was next. Tense, her tail almost springing from stress, her nose sniffing constantly, she took a breath, "Myself."
Eight to five to two to a pair of lonely votes. If it did come down that she fell short, she'd need to talk to the elves, probably? Or…
Sarry looked up and looked over her for a long moment, "Andratse."
The human, Cui, considered it. "I believe Andratse is lucky, and she is funny. I shall vote for her."
Then next was Khitch Slicktongue, and he licked his lips, his huge tongue on display. "The Horned-Rat was bad yes-yes, and there are many things that must change-improve. But it seems to me that Andratse would know which ones are most important-good." She knew his type, scared of change… and for those types she was reassuring because she was not part of the hierarchy, but she was a figure who had been significant.
Then she turned to look towards the second Gnoblar councilor, Dapstod Dewgum. She'd talked with him before this meeting, and he'd ranted about how nobody respects Gnoblars and he wasn't going to be anyone's slave like they'd been Ogre slaves. And she'd nodded and promised it wouldn't happen-occur. "Andratse," he said, nodding at her, his nose letting him look down at her while keeping it lowered below hers, as if he knew that Skaven custom.
After a very, very long discussion and debate lasting several minutes, the two Night Goblins, Baruk Earwing and Dzol Tittersnipe decided to vote for her as one. Earwing was talkative and sneaky, Tittersnipe sneaky and talkative, and she'd spent hours in both of their presences trying to convince them ahead of time. So had Chittertongue, but when it came down to it she'd convinced them.
That brought her up very close. Fourteen. She needed just one more. One more out of the next seven, but the Dragon would vote for herself, Chittertongue would vote for himself, and who knew how the Lizard would vote. It was close, now, and everyone knew it. Chittertongue thought that these would be it. If he got those five, and figured out the Lizard, that would put him at nine. Then going in the next round he'd nearly tie her with Rupert's numbers… then it'd be down to trying to convince Elves or Fire Dwarves or more. But it could be done.
She knew it could. He knew it too. She respected-understood him even if she could not like-enjoy his presence. He knew things she didn't. Once he got to talking, he was probably going to sway plenty of those who voted for her away.
The big test was Zhen Tinkernose, one of the more talented of the lower-level tinkerers and the sort always working to try to make Clan Skyre favorites without Clan Skyre. A dangerous habit, but he had influence over the forge-worker and his sometimes lover Qit Bristledigger, a pungent but almost handsome Skaven with the scars and the mutations to show from being so exposed to raw warpstone and strange Grey Seer experiments. Zhen looked around, considered it. If he went towards Andratse, then she had it, and votes to spare. The more to spare the better, really.
"Andratse," he finally said. "But there are many good choices."
And there it was. The voting was done.
Except, not quite.
Chittertongue voted for himself, but in true chittering-fashion did ladle compliments onto her. The better to later usurp-take the seat by winning-convincing her allies. Qit of course voted with his sometimes-lover, and she was now up to sixteen.
The other two Skaven hesitated, clearly torn, but once the vote was over it made sense, and reluctantly they voted for her. She noted them down as probably weak allies, all things considered. A thin margin, all the same.
The Dragon, surprisingly nobody, voted for herself.
This finally left Teyoti. The strange Lizard-thing sat for a full minute and then said, through translators, "I vote for Andratse because she is the winner."
And with that, it was over…
Nineteen votes of twenty-nine.
She was the leader of the Governing Council, which would meet once a week. Which would decide the fate of everyone in the Republic.
Now, the real work had begun.
(Desperate Time/Founding Grace: +1 action in all categories for the first six months.)
Martial Actions
Name: Feresh Longtail
Race: Skaven
Age: 11
Bio: Feresh is not one of your friends and allies. A Clanrat who served/serves as a military trainer to the lower-ranks of slaverats and clanrats in battle, he has a wicked scar and has fought many battles. He expected, if not power, prominence as one of the military experts who wasn't just a Stormvermin with no experience beyond the tactical.
Martial: 12 (PC 16)
Diplomacy: 6
Stewardship: 8
Intrigue: 5
Learning: 6
Traits Known: Jealous--He doesn't like to share, -3 to rolls for actions where he is the primary and someone else is the secondary actor on it.
Trainer--He knows how to whip in shape rats, at the very least, and perhaps even more than that. +5 to rolls to train troops.
Tough As Nails: +2 to Personal Combat rolls.
Race: Skaven
Age: 11
Bio: Feresh is not one of your friends and allies. A Clanrat who served/serves as a military trainer to the lower-ranks of slaverats and clanrats in battle, he has a wicked scar and has fought many battles. He expected, if not power, prominence as one of the military experts who wasn't just a Stormvermin with no experience beyond the tactical.
Martial: 12 (PC 16)
Diplomacy: 6
Stewardship: 8
Intrigue: 5
Learning: 6
Traits Known: Jealous--He doesn't like to share, -3 to rolls for actions where he is the primary and someone else is the secondary actor on it.
Trainer--He knows how to whip in shape rats, at the very least, and perhaps even more than that. +5 to rolls to train troops.
Tough As Nails: +2 to Personal Combat rolls.
Name: Iznos
Race: Orc
Age: Orc
Bio: A powerful and cunning Orc, he won the brawl and seems remarkably keen by the standards of his race. But little else is known.
Martial: High Personal Combat, actual Martial ???
Diplomacy: ???
Stewardship: ???
Intrigue: ???
Learning: ???
Piety: ???
Traits Known: ???, none known.
Race: Orc
Age: Orc
Bio: A powerful and cunning Orc, he won the brawl and seems remarkably keen by the standards of his race. But little else is known.
Martial: High Personal Combat, actual Martial ???
Diplomacy: ???
Stewardship: ???
Intrigue: ???
Learning: ???
Piety: ???
Traits Known: ???, none known.
Name: Rupert von Hummingburg
Race: Human
Age: ???
Bio: Some sort of Man-thing adventurer and mercenary, he was captured and seems popular, having kept up the spirits of many during their captivity.
Martial: ???, he did LOSE the battle against the Skaven where he was captured, yes-yes.
Diplomacy: ???, Man-Things like him, say he look good, like front of book?
Stewardship: ???, mercenary captain, but what mean?
Intrigue: ???, as subtle as a brick.
Learning: ???
Piety: ???
Race: Human
Age: ???
Bio: Some sort of Man-thing adventurer and mercenary, he was captured and seems popular, having kept up the spirits of many during their captivity.
Martial: ???, he did LOSE the battle against the Skaven where he was captured, yes-yes.
Diplomacy: ???, Man-Things like him, say he look good, like front of book?
Stewardship: ???, mercenary captain, but what mean?
Intrigue: ???, as subtle as a brick.
Learning: ???
Piety: ???
Name: Argrush Chimeraeater Linebreaker Cannonball Catcher the Huge
Race: Ogre
Age: Ogre
Martial: ???, presumably very high PC if he's the strongest at this "gut barging."
Diplomacy: ???
Stewardship: ???
Intrigue: ???
Learning: ???, but he's an Ogre.
Piety: ???
Known Traits:
Compassionate: He only took a finger or an ear during the leadership Gut-Barges. By Ogre standards this is a bleeding heart.
Impious: He seems... less connected to whatever "Maw" this is than some other Ogres. But no less strong for it.
Chimeraeater: ???
Linebreaker: ???
Cannonball Catcher: ???
The Huge: Is huge.
Race: Ogre
Age: Ogre
Martial: ???, presumably very high PC if he's the strongest at this "gut barging."
Diplomacy: ???
Stewardship: ???
Intrigue: ???
Learning: ???, but he's an Ogre.
Piety: ???
Known Traits:
Compassionate: He only took a finger or an ear during the leadership Gut-Barges. By Ogre standards this is a bleeding heart.
Impious: He seems... less connected to whatever "Maw" this is than some other Ogres. But no less strong for it.
Chimeraeater: ???
Linebreaker: ???
Cannonball Catcher: ???
The Huge: Is huge.
Choose 3
[] [Martial] Counting Heads: At the moment the Governing Council does not know exactly how many troops of each kind, or even the total number. It is embarrassing, and perhaps even humiliating, but the revolution was quick and chaotic and so there is a lot left undone. Stat(s): Learning, DC: 10 Results: Get an actual handle on troop numbers and composition available , Traits: (General)
[] [Martial] Armored Ogres: While you know very little about Ogres, you do know that basically nobody works best unarmored and vulnerable. But while it is hard-difficult to think of being able to get enough armor for all the Manlings, or all the Skaven, there are only so many Ogres and while huge, armoring them even decently would make them much more deadly. Stat(s): Stewardship, Result: Ogres are armored in crude but probably better than their usual armor. Traits: (Ogre)
[] [Martial] Blackpowder Woes: A number of Manling guns have survived. Not many, and they are of course inferior to Warplock products. But in order to get them all to work, something else is needed: gunpowder. Start looking into figuring out how you can get more of that. Stat(s): Learning, DC: 10/30/50, Results: Start looking for sources of gunpowder. Traits: (Manling)
[] [Martial] Wheels of Doom: During the battle, the counter-revolutionary forces deployed a Doomwheel. It wrecked and then went on fire, but there are some who think it can be salvaged! If it was able to be, it could be a very useful device, if a temperamental one. Stat(s): Learning, DC 20/40/80, Result: Look at the Doomwheel, see if it can't be repaired. Traits: (Skaven)
[] [Martial] Sticks and Stones: Gnoblar and Night Goblins both have creatures they herd, and they both have to fight off predators now and again. Both Squigs and Rhinoxen can mostly take care of themselves, but some Gnoblar do make a habit of using slings and rocks. You could have a few train up with it, either to guard herds once more or fight in battle. Stat(s): Martial, DC: 25, Result: Recruit small squad of Gnoblar Slingests. Trait: (Gnoblar)
[] [Martial] Rebuildin' Defenses--Traps 1: Traps! Skaven are very good at traps, and the ways to trick others. But now that there are enemies outside, it is time to put the traps back in order that existed. Hopefully without anyrat dying. Stat(s): Martial, Intrigue, DC: 25/50/75 Martial, 20/40 Intrigue, Result: Rebuild some traps, get an idea of if there are any traps hanging around. Improve defenses. Trait (Skaven)
[] [Martial] Rebuildin' Defenses--Walls 1: Manlings and Dwarf-things like walls, oh yes. Skaven had walls too, but didn't trust them THAT much, no-no. But it would make the Dwarfs happy, and it is certainly protection. Stats(s): Martial, DC 20/40/60, Result: Rebuild some crude walls, get some more defenses of the new Republic. Traits: (Mountain Dwarf, Chaos Dwarf, Manling)
[] [Martial] Bringing The Storm: The Stormvermin mostly either fled with their lords or died, but nearly two dozen did not. What should be done with them? They're too few to become an elite unit, but should they become trainers? Sergeants amid less-trained rats? Bodyguards? Stat (s): Martial, DC: Automatic, Traits: (Skaven)
[] [Martial] Arming the Slaverats: Most Slaverats have weapons. Most. And this is unacceptable, arm up all the slaverats and all other rats who want to fight from the stockpile of weapons left, even if it's simple iron weapons… for now. Stat (s): Martial, DC: 10, Traits: (Skaven)
[] [Martial] Great Badlands Warpstone Hunt: Warpstone meteor Hunting Parties were a common part of Skaven life, if a very lethal and dangerous one. But with allies and friends, perhaps it can be less dangerous. And there's certainly a… need for it. Stat (s): Martial, DC: Variable, Traits: (Skaven) (Dangerous)
[] [Martial] Hunting Parties: One of the daily evils of the old government was sending slaves armed with cheap weapons or nothing at all to hunt animals. The desperate and strong caught the strange and horrible beasts of the wilderness, and the weak died and thus did not need to be fed, and so it was a net of meat. But with a dragon now demanding bits of Chimera and a population of Ogres very, very hungry… perhaps it's time to do so with better weapons. Stat(s) Martial, DC: Variable, Traits: (General) (Dangerous), Result
[] [Martial] Military Scouting Westward Underground: There is not much that way, but there are a number of nests and several hundred Skaven. Send some scouts and perhaps one could integrate them or see if they were going to be any trouble… and hear any news from the rest of the (form?) Under-Empire. Stat(s): Martial, DC: Variable, Traits: (Skaven) (General) (Fire Dwarf) Results: Scout westward with military forces/scouts.
[] [Martial] Martial Scouting Eastward Underground: Craventail fled that way with far too many Stormvermin. The tunnels east all the way to the edges of the border with the Fire Dwarves are a series of raiding outposts and more, with somewhat over two-thousand Skaven present at one tiny community or fortress or another. Figure out what's going on there in military force, and pave the way for future operations. Stat(s): Martial, DC: Variable, Traits: (Skaven) (General), Results: Scout eastward/south-east with military forces/scouts.
[] [Martial] Martial Scouting Down South: A Grey Seer, and a vicious one, fled that way with a retinue and other allies. That area is dangerous, as anyrat knows. It is full of strange bloodsuckers, and odd occurrences on the surface that sometimes make their way down, and if you keep on going south--underground, of course--you eventually reach mountains where Draogns live. Stat(s): Martial, DC: Variable, Traits: (General) (Skaven) Results: Scout down south with military force/scouts.
[] [Martial] Military Scouting Northward: Through the tunnels north, one comes to a land of Night Goblins. They have been particularly angry lately at the slave raids, and they have begun to press on the Fortresses and nests, perhaps 1500 strong, of Skaven that were there to raid and steal from them and take slaves of them. Now the Night Goblins might press further in… and these nests might be desperate. Stat(s): Martial, DC: Varaible, Traits (General), Results: Scout northward with military force/scouts.
[] [Martial] Where-House: One of the oddest mysteries of Clan Rictus is that in their last few years they began to hide-scurry away warehouses at the corner of the Warren, supposedly guarded by fiendish traps! What lies within these hidden warehouses? Food? Treasure? Weapons? Nobody knows! Put together a team to seek it out! Stat(s): Stewardship, Intrigue, Martial, Learning, DC: Variable, better roll means better team, Traits: (Skaven) (Dangerous), Result: Mini-turn of raiding the warehouse, find ??
Diplomacy
Name: Teyoti
Race: Lizardmen, Skink
Age: ???!!!???
Bio: ???
Martial: ???
Diplomacy: ???
Stewardship: ???
Intrigue: ???
Learning: ???
Piety: ???
Traits: ?????????????????
Race: Lizardmen, Skink
Age: ???!!!???
Bio: ???
Martial: ???
Diplomacy: ???
Stewardship: ???
Intrigue: ???
Learning: ???
Piety: ???
Traits: ?????????????????
Name: Chittertongue the "Aledancer"
Race: Skaven
Age: 8
Bio: A talkative if arrogant Skaven, he helped win the revolution and sought to achieve great status in the aftermath, but was shot down. He doesn't like you.
Martial: 1
Diplomacy: 18
Stewardship: 9
Intrigue: 10
Learning: 7
Piety: ???
Traits
--Scheming: Roll d13 each turn to see what they get up to.
--Popular: If not given a Primary position once ever three months, will begin causing trouble.
--Manytongued: +5 bonus to diplomacy with non-Skaven.
Race: Skaven
Age: 8
Bio: A talkative if arrogant Skaven, he helped win the revolution and sought to achieve great status in the aftermath, but was shot down. He doesn't like you.
Martial: 1
Diplomacy: 18
Stewardship: 9
Intrigue: 10
Learning: 7
Piety: ???
Traits
--Scheming: Roll d13 each turn to see what they get up to.
--Popular: If not given a Primary position once ever three months, will begin causing trouble.
--Manytongued: +5 bonus to diplomacy with non-Skaven.
Name: Baruk Earwing
Race: Night Goblin
Age: ???
Bio: A clever and persuasive Night Goblin, he has unusually large ears, the better to hear you with, and supported you in the understanding that he might get a chance himself before that long.
Stats: ???
Traits: ???
Race: Night Goblin
Age: ???
Bio: A clever and persuasive Night Goblin, he has unusually large ears, the better to hear you with, and supported you in the understanding that he might get a chance himself before that long.
Stats: ???
Traits: ???
Choose 2
[] [Diplomacy] Dwarf Friendship!: Surely there is something wrong with Mountain Dwarfs and Fire Dwarfs for hating each other. It is best to try to nip this in the bud by talking to them and making sure they both know there's no hard feelings over… whatever it is. Stat(s): Diplomacy, DC: 0, Result: Harmony and cooperation are sure to follow!
[] [Diplomacy] Language Woes: There are many languages in this new Republic. How many, though? You don't even know, which means you can't even know how to teach them or what to teach or more. Find out. Stat(s): Learning, DC: 10/20/30/40/50, Traits: (General)
[] [Diplomacy] Manling Divisions: What are the things that divide Manlings from each other. Clearly, they are not from one group, and Skaven are vaguely aware of nations, but it would do well to figure out just what is dividing them and how. They will be important links and ties to parts of the rest of the world, and if they remain as fractious as they are now, it does not good. Stat(s): Diplomacy, DC: 10/40/60/80/100, Traits: (General) (Manling) Results: Hopefully learn what's going on.
[] [Diplomacy] Banners and Symbols: A New Republic needs new symbols. While there is no time for elaborate ceremonies or pieces of paper--paper is scarce, besides--it would not be hard to work on some common symbols and some common means of marking one out. It might even be useful in the fights to come. Stats: N/A, DC: Automatic, Traits: (General) Results: Get a banner, flag, and other such symbols.
[] [Diplomacy] Merchants: Passing Merchants are already aware that if they pass through there is a high chance to be forced to pay a toll. People came because it was better than the alternatives, and losing some is better than losing all. Apparently in the last year or so Clan Rictus suddenly went from 'taxes' of Half or maybe two-thirds to almost all. It is time to tell merchants that this has changed... carefully. Stat(s): Diplomacy, DC: Variable, Traits: (Manling), Results: Talk to trading caravans and more... see what happens.
[] [Diplomacy] Send Diplomats North: These fortresses and raiding communities might also be scared and hard-pressed. A kind word at this point... or at least a threatening word of the right sort, could open up all sorts of relations with them or even convince them to remain part of the Republic. Stat(s): Diplomacy, DC: 10/30/50, Traits: (Fire Dwarf) (Skaven)
[] [Diplomacy] Send Diplomats West: These places at the very edge of control, and not highly populated, would be easy to integrate with even a bit of good will, and easy to break apart with just a breath of air. A careful word can do much. Stat(s): Diplomacy, DC: ???, Traits: (General), Results: Make contact with the Skaven beneath the earth to the west, along the road towards the Under-Empire.
[] [Diplomacy] Send Diplomats East: Down that way went Craventail. But perhaps there is a way to avoid conflict. If diplomats scurry onward, or rather talky-rats of various kinds, perhaps they can convince the raiders to give up Craventail? Stat (s): Diplomacy, Intrigue, DC: ???, Traits (Skaven), Results: Attempt to exert pressure on the raiding fortresses and nests eastward.
[] [Diplomacy] Complaint Box: At the moment there are few ways to fully deal with disagreements between communities. Perhaps creating positions and places to vent greviances would help, or perhaps it'd only lead to increased tension. But it needs to be looked into. Stat(s): Diplomacy, DC: 10/25/40/50/70/90, Traits (General), Results: Create complaints box, shouty box, place to go ramble about nonsense, etc, hear more local rumors/etc.
Stewardship
Name: Qit Bristledigger
Race: Skaven
Age: 9
Bio: A furnace-worker and sometimes miner, he is lovers with Zhen Tinkernose and is twisted by his experiences with raw Warpstone, but still clever-quick.
Martial: 5
Diplomacy: 8
Stewardship: 11
Intrigue: 4
Learning: 9
Piety: ???
Traits
--Warpstone Scarred: Interacting with Warpstone exhausts him, take -2 to actions involving Warpstone.
--Warpstone Used: Despite this, he is used to it in another sense, and so failure on a Warpstone action will not lead to large disasters, just small ones.
--Teamwork: If he and Zhen are working on things very similar, they will combine forces, adding +5 to each of their efforts.
--???
--???
Race: Skaven
Age: 9
Bio: A furnace-worker and sometimes miner, he is lovers with Zhen Tinkernose and is twisted by his experiences with raw Warpstone, but still clever-quick.
Martial: 5
Diplomacy: 8
Stewardship: 11
Intrigue: 4
Learning: 9
Piety: ???
Traits
--Warpstone Scarred: Interacting with Warpstone exhausts him, take -2 to actions involving Warpstone.
--Warpstone Used: Despite this, he is used to it in another sense, and so failure on a Warpstone action will not lead to large disasters, just small ones.
--Teamwork: If he and Zhen are working on things very similar, they will combine forces, adding +5 to each of their efforts.
--???
--???
Name: Drubapple, called "Mother"
Race: Halfling
Age: ???
Bio: A Halfling leader, she was like a "Mother" to all the Halflings surviving down there, and so it is no surprise she was elected.
Skills: ???
Known Traits:
--Farmer: She seems to be skilled at crops and herbs.
Race: Halfling
Age: ???
Bio: A Halfling leader, she was like a "Mother" to all the Halflings surviving down there, and so it is no surprise she was elected.
Skills: ???
Known Traits:
--Farmer: She seems to be skilled at crops and herbs.
Name: Dapstod Dewgum
Species: Gnoblar
Age: ???
Bio: A Gnoblar with a chip on his shoulder, he's quite good at caring for Rhinoxen. A supporter.
Stats: ???
Known Traits:
--Rhinoxen Herder: He has plenty of experience
Species: Gnoblar
Age: ???
Bio: A Gnoblar with a chip on his shoulder, he's quite good at caring for Rhinoxen. A supporter.
Stats: ???
Known Traits:
--Rhinoxen Herder: He has plenty of experience
Name: Josiah Fuerbach
Species: Manling
Age: He looks older, and is a Manling, they live longer, so maybe in his twenties? Middle-end of his life?
Stats: ???
Bio: A merchant picked up and enslaved for not paying the absurd prices, some months before the revolution. He quickly lost weight but never hope.
Known Traits:
--Trader: He is a merchant through and through.
Species: Manling
Age: He looks older, and is a Manling, they live longer, so maybe in his twenties? Middle-end of his life?
Stats: ???
Bio: A merchant picked up and enslaved for not paying the absurd prices, some months before the revolution. He quickly lost weight but never hope.
Known Traits:
--Trader: He is a merchant through and through.
Choose 3
[] [Stewardship] Restarting the Mines, Part 1: None wishes to work in bad conditions and exhaustion anymore, but at the same time the mines provide the bronze and tin, the iron and other goods that are turned into the weapons of war and the things of peace. First is finding those with the skills that still wish to use them. Stat(s): Stewardship, Diplomacy, DC: Variable, Result: Find miners?
[] [Stewardship] Furniture of Stone and Bone: While the Republic has plenty of nicer-housing by Skaven standards, there are a number of things it lacks that a Manling would like, as would some Dwarfs, so perhaps you can ask around and have some people spend time working it out. Stat(s) Stewardship, DC: 25, Traits (Manling, Mountain Dwarf) Result: Build furniture, make homes more home-y.
[] [Stewardship] Collecting Rainwater: Despite expectations, it does rain in the Dark Lands. But it is acidic, sickly rain. Still useful, if filtered, and even a tiny bit of rain--for it doesn't rain MUCH--could be useful. Stat(s) Stewardship, DC 10, Results: Collection of Rainwater begins. Traits: (General)
[] [Stewardship] Searching For Wells: Wells are where most of the water that the Skaven used comes from. They dug deep, and found water, and if most of it wound up being of bad quality, that did not matter. Now if they expand further and do not keep slaves dehydrated and miserable, and especially if they begin growing more mushrooms and other crops, they'll need more water. Stat(s) Stewardship, DC: ???, Results: Find water underground even deeper down, hopefully. Maybe. Traits (General)
[] [Stewardship] Rhinoxen Ahoy: Gnoblars are most famous for herding and dealing with Rhinoxen, and they had a few that they took care of in their time as slaves. But the Gnoblar wish to expand this operation. It will take months, and likely the better part of a year or more, before it truly begins to bear fruit, if the 'fruit' is Rhinoxen that can be eaten without essentially killing any hope for future food. But it may well be worth it. Stat(s) Stewardship, DC 30, Results: Rhinoxen herding begins up again, Traits (Gnoblar)
[] [Stewardship] Fed On Bullshit: The vast mushroom farms were fed on the corpses of slaves and on shit, but they kept one alive… barely, and it was a miserable existence, for Manlings hated the taste. Everyone did. But these mushrooms are still needed, and they need to find people to care for them without quite so many dead bodies as fertilizer, Stat(s): Stewardship, Learning, DC: 25/50/75/100, Results: Mushroom crop keeps on going, food output there does not decrease, Traits (Night Goblin, Skaven, General)
[] [Stewardship] Growing Pangs: For reasons that the Halflings do not understand ,the Skaven had them growing a small garden outside. It was not much food, it being the terrible soil and bad weather of the area, and even when it didn't get them carried away by monsters it barely fed the Halflings tending it and then their family and other Halfling cooks. But then… why have it? Stat(s): Stewardship, Learning, DC: ???, Result: Figure out what's up with the farming and if it's even vaguely viable??, Traits (Hafling, Skaven)
[] [Stewardship] Great Badlands Warpstone Hunt: Warpstone meteor Hunting Parties were a common part of Skaven life, if a very lethal and dangerous one. But with allies and friends, perhaps it can be less dangerous. And there's certainly a… need for it. Stat (s): Martial, DC: Variable, Traits: (Skaven) (Dangerous) Results: Warpstone, hopefully
[] [Stewardship] Hunting Parties: One of the daily evils of the old government was sending slaves armed with cheap weapons or nothing at all to hunt animals. The desperate and strong caught the strange and horrible beasts of the wilderness, and the weak died and thus did not need to be fed, and so it was a net of meat. But with a dragon now demanding bits of Chimera and a population of Ogres very, very hungry… perhaps it's time to do so with better weapons. Stat(s) Martial, DC: Variable, Traits: (General) (Dangerous) Results: Food?
[] [Stewardship] Firing Up The Forges: While the mines will need to be reopened eventually… for now there is still a pretty large surplus of metals. They could be made into ores, they could be made into all sorts of things… Stat(s): Stewardship, DC: 20, Traits: (Fire Dwarf, Mountain Dwarf, Dragon), Result: Gain processed metal, can make yet further weapons, armor, and more.
[] [Stewardship] Grub Hub: At the moment what food comes in is just taken every which way, but it might make sense to have a central (guarded) location to store the food so that it can be divided out among those who need it, just to reduce confusion and double-counting and so on. Stat(s): Stewardship, DC: 5, Traits: (General) Result: Central storehouse for all that food made.
[] [Stewardship] Wash Away Your Sins: Many are the people who wish they could bathe more often. It would waste water that is in good supply now, but might not be in the months to come, but if a huge bath was used for communal bathing or some sort of 'rain' system or something, it could at least be reduced. Stat(s): Stewardship, DC: 10, Traits: (General), Results: Everyone has a bath, can maybe afford a monthly bath for everyone with the water supply as it is.
[] [Stewardship] Only You Can Prevent…: One of the little annoyances of the time before the Republic was that people stored Warpstone and explosives very near each other, and there were no railings for the mine pits and… a dozen little things. Fix these, Stat(s): Stewardship, DC: 10/20/30/40, Traits: (General) (Safe), Results: Create a few basic bits of commonsense safety.
[] [Stewardship] Guard Warpstone: Warpstone is a thing that some rat-Skaven are addicted to, and it is a scarce resource. Set up loyal (hopefully) guards around it that aren't interested--maybe Orcs, they don't tend to care about it--or something in order to make sure that none of it goes missing. Stat(s): Stewardship, Martial, DC: 25, Traits: (Skaven), Results: Guard the Strategic Warpstone Supply!
[] [Stewardship] Counting Coins: How much manling-wealth and Dwarf-wealth do you have? You don't even know. You can't see the purpose of trading it amongst each other, but the merchants that pass by will ask for it if they are bought from, and they'll give it if tolls are still extracted, which they should be. Stat(s): N/A, DC: Automatic, Traits (General), Result: See how many coins-treasures you have?
[] [Stewardship] Cafeteria Food: There have been arguments that there should be eating halls outside of the individual quarters for the different races, so that they can eat together, or at least in the same location. Though whether this would achieve anything is much-debated. Stat(s): Stewardship, DC: Variable, Traits (Skaven), Result: Dining Halls made, with tables and presumably just food laid out.
[] [Stewardship] Get Gud Scrub: While ratfur and leather from animals provide some of it, most of the scraps of clothing granted to Manlings, Skaven, and more are made by collecting and then working on the scrub-grass outside, gathered in huge quantities, the one harvest that never seems to run dry. Manlings and others have been complaining about the lack of clothing for some reason-purpose. Perhaps change that? Stat(s): Stewardship, DC: 20, Traits (Manlings) (Hafllings) (Mountain Dwarves) (Fire Dwarves), Result: Begin to get a small supply of rough but functional clothing to help better clad all sorts of people.
[] [Stewardship] Where-House: One of the oddest mysteries of Clan Rictus is that in their last few years they began to hide-scurry away warehouses at the corner of the Warren, supposedly guarded by fiendish traps! What lies within these hidden warehouses? Food? Treasure? Weapons? Nobody knows! Put together a team to seek it out! Stat(s): Stewardship, Intrigue, Martial, Learning, DC: Variable, better roll means better team, Traits: (Skaven) (Dangerous) Result: Mini-turn of raiding the warehouse, find ??
Intrigue
Name: Skit Shadowdigger
Race: Skaven
Age: 5
Bio: One of the two Skaven whose opinions didn't matter much, she nonetheless voted for Andratse once the vote was all decided. She's a fast sort, and rather secretive, a slaverat who did good work during the revolution.
Martial: 1, (PC 12)
Diplomacy: 8
Stewardship: 3
Intrigue: 12
Learning: 6
Piety: ???
Traits:
--Hands On: She goes on her own missions, whatever those are.
--Blade In The Dark: She is pretty good at the darker arts, even if she's not even close to Clan Eshin. +3 on missions that might be classified as (Assassination)
--Vengeful (Disadvantage): She has a mean streak against those who she feels have wronged her.
Race: Skaven
Age: 5
Bio: One of the two Skaven whose opinions didn't matter much, she nonetheless voted for Andratse once the vote was all decided. She's a fast sort, and rather secretive, a slaverat who did good work during the revolution.
Martial: 1, (PC 12)
Diplomacy: 8
Stewardship: 3
Intrigue: 12
Learning: 6
Piety: ???
Traits:
--Hands On: She goes on her own missions, whatever those are.
--Blade In The Dark: She is pretty good at the darker arts, even if she's not even close to Clan Eshin. +3 on missions that might be classified as (Assassination)
--Vengeful (Disadvantage): She has a mean streak against those who she feels have wronged her.
Name: Dzol Tittersnipe
Race: Night Goblin
Age: ???
Bio: A night-goblin who is more sneaky than talky, but is also very talky.
Stats: ???
Traits:
--Gabbermouth: Sometimes he blabs what he shouldn't, impressed by his own cleverness in keeping secrets.
Race: Night Goblin
Age: ???
Bio: A night-goblin who is more sneaky than talky, but is also very talky.
Stats: ???
Traits:
--Gabbermouth: Sometimes he blabs what he shouldn't, impressed by his own cleverness in keeping secrets.
[] [Intrigue] Hunting Out Hiders: At least a few coward-idiots of the old regime did not flee far, but instead hid in the area, no doubt seeking to skulk about. Hunt them down to punish them! Stat(s): Intrigue, DC: 20/40/60, Traits: (Skaven) (General), Results: Hunt out any remaining figures of the old order still hiding about.
[] [Intrigue] Finding Remaining Traps: The old order left traps everywhere, and these might hurt Skaven or others who fall into them. Find them and neutralize them for the moment, leave no stone unturned. Stat(s): Intrigue, DC: 25/50/75, Traits: (General), (Dangerous)Results: Find and hopefully neutralize any traps.
[] [Intrigue] A Poison Pill: Night Goblins and Skaven alike are very good at poison. Perhaps the herb gardens of poison and the other methods should be maintained, both for intelligence operations and potentially to be used on weapons. It is not honorable, by the standards of some, but victory is the highest honor! Stat(S): Intrigue, Learning, DC: Variable, Traits (Night Goblin) (Skaven) (Sneaky)
[] [Intrigue] Look Into…: Look at one of the other races. A little bit of light, polite-spying, just see what they're up to. Stat(s): Intrigue, DC: ???, Traits(s) (Sneaky) (Skaven), Result: Potentially learn some about a particular Race. Pick one when choosing this option.
[] [Intrigue] Talking To Captives: You have captured at least some rat-cowards of the ruling class. Talk to them… interrogate them rather, and see whether they know anything. There are many things that don't quite make sense. Stat(s): Intrigue, DC: ???, Traits: (Skaven), Result: Gain information?
[] [Intrigue] Sneaky Rats North: One could send sneaky sorts, probably mostly Skaven, to check in on what is happening in the raiding-tunnels to the north! Stat(s): Intrigue, DC: 25/50, Traits (Skaven), Results: Gain information on what's happening north.
[] [Intrigue] Sneaky Rats South: The danger of the Grey Seer cannot be ignored, and very stealthy sorts could be sent that way to see what they can tell. Stat(s): Intrigue, DC: ???, Traits (General) (Skaven), Results: Gain information on what the Grey Seer is up to.
[] [Intrigue] Sneaky Rats West: There is no particular danger that way… but there might be opportunity. Send agents to the Nests and so on to the west, along the Under-Empire's roads, and see what they can learn. stat(s) Intrigue, DC: 20/40, Traits: (Skaven), Results: Gain information on what's going on in that direction.
[] [Intrigue] Sneaky Rats East: The Craventail went that way. Is he rallying the troops? Is he getting killed? You don't know! Try to find that out… sneakily. Stat(s), Intrigue, DC ???, Traits: (General), Results: Gain information on what's going on in that direction!
[] [Intrigue] Where-House: One of the oddest mysteries of Clan Rictus is that in their last few years they began to hide-scurry away warehouses at the corner of the Warren, supposedly guarded by fiendish traps! What lies within these hidden warehouses? Food? Treasure? Weapons? Nobody knows! Put together a team to seek it out! Stat(s): Stewardship, Intrigue, Martial, Learning, DC: Variable, better roll means better team, Traits: (Skaven) (Dangerous) Result: Mini-turn of raiding the warehouse, find ??
Learning
Name: You think you'd be able to work out a name, but they talk over each other.
Race: Elves? Are there more than one Elf-things?
Age: ???, a lot.
Bio: ???
Skills: ???
Traits: ???
Race: Elves? Are there more than one Elf-things?
Age: ???, a lot.
Bio: ???
Skills: ???
Traits: ???
Name: Cui Chuntao
Race: Manling… from Cathay?
Age: ???, Rupert's age? Younger.
Bio: Some sort of traveler who was captured some years ago, she was literate and was put to work as a sort of scribe-slave for interacting with other Eastern Man-thing Slaves.
Stats: ???
Traits: ???
Race: Manling… from Cathay?
Age: ???, Rupert's age? Younger.
Bio: Some sort of traveler who was captured some years ago, she was literate and was put to work as a sort of scribe-slave for interacting with other Eastern Man-thing Slaves.
Stats: ???
Traits: ???
Name: Sarry Inkclaws
Race: Skaven
Age: 6
Bio: A very thoughtful Skaven, she was a paper-clerk of sorts before the revolution. By Skaven standards she's somewhat mangy but with an interesting scent, by Man-thing standards she reeks. She's an ally of Andratse.
Stats:
Martial: 1
Diplomacy: 9
Stewardship: 10
Intrigue: 4
Learning: 14
Piety: ???
Traits:
--Kind: +3 to actions she deems as being moral or good.
--Ink-Stained: +5 to actions involving writing directly of one kind or another.
--Pungent: -3 to actions involving Diplomacy with non-Skaven.
Race: Skaven
Age: 6
Bio: A very thoughtful Skaven, she was a paper-clerk of sorts before the revolution. By Skaven standards she's somewhat mangy but with an interesting scent, by Man-thing standards she reeks. She's an ally of Andratse.
Stats:
Martial: 1
Diplomacy: 9
Stewardship: 10
Intrigue: 4
Learning: 14
Piety: ???
Traits:
--Kind: +3 to actions she deems as being moral or good.
--Ink-Stained: +5 to actions involving writing directly of one kind or another.
--Pungent: -3 to actions involving Diplomacy with non-Skaven.
Name: Zhen Tinkernose
Race: Skaven
Age: 12
Bio: A tinkerer and crafter, he has that name because he can seemingly smell out disaster and know when to run away really, really fast. That's how he's gotten to twelve, and if he were more scheming he might have been higher up with Clan Rictus with more to lose.
Stats:
Martial: 2 (PC 3)
Diplomacy: 9
Stewardship: 10
Intrigue: 3
Learning: 16
Piety: 0
Traits:
--Nose For Danger: When an experiment goes wrong, subtract 10 from the roll for disastrous effects.
--Tinkerer: +5 for options involvint technology!
--Calm+Patient: +2 to Diplomacy, and take no time penalties from a failed roll on a long-term project.
Race: Skaven
Age: 12
Bio: A tinkerer and crafter, he has that name because he can seemingly smell out disaster and know when to run away really, really fast. That's how he's gotten to twelve, and if he were more scheming he might have been higher up with Clan Rictus with more to lose.
Stats:
Martial: 2 (PC 3)
Diplomacy: 9
Stewardship: 10
Intrigue: 3
Learning: 16
Piety: 0
Traits:
--Nose For Danger: When an experiment goes wrong, subtract 10 from the roll for disastrous effects.
--Tinkerer: +5 for options involvint technology!
--Calm+Patient: +2 to Diplomacy, and take no time penalties from a failed roll on a long-term project.
Choose 3
[] [Learning] Warpstone Refining, Part 1: Refining Warpstone is a very complicated process, and one the Grey Seers monopologized. Various Skaven workers did different smalls steps of it separately, and at key points the workers were driven out and only a small group remained to do the final steps… and then often be killed for it. So it will be hard work indeed to put together how it worked, but you have at least some of the pieces. Stat(s): Learning, Stewardship, DC: ???, Traits: (Skaven), Results: Begin to get an idea of how to refine Warpstone, figure out what you know and don't.
[] [Learning] Brooding On It--The Common Rat: The largest result of all of this was not the Broodmothers, not by numbers, but the common Skaven, some of whom were female and made infertile. See if the warpstone treatments and combinations are temporary, see if they can be undone in some way if they aren't, and figure out whether there's anything stopping you from simply not applying it from now on. Stat(s): Learning, DC: ???, Traits (Skaven), Result: Figure out more about the infertility treatments given to most Skaven women. Figure out what if anything can be done.
[] [Learning] Brooding On It--Looking at the Mothers: The Broodmothers are in a state of perpetual control, and a horrific one. Research and try to figure out exactly what was being done to them, and what combination of warpstones and chemicals that were involved in it, and what can be done. Stat(s): Learning, DC: ???, Traits: (Skaven), Results: Begin to figure out what was done to Broodmothers and if it can be undone.
[] [Learning] Manling Guns?: Man-things have guns of thier own sort, and even if they are not the quality of Skaven weapons, they're less intensive on Warpstone, and perhaps the Manlings present know anything about them. Stat(s): Learning, Diplomacy, DC: Variable, Traits (Manling), Result: Learn to see if any Manlings know how Manling guns work, potentially accidentally learn other things.
[] [Learning] Magic User Survey: How many magic users do you have? You don't know! This seems like a problem. Try to find out! Stat(s): Learning, Intrigue, Diplomacy, DC: Variable, Traits: (Magic) (General), Results: Get some of the numbers as to the magic users you have!
[] [Learning] Anyone Remember Ratlings?: Ratling Guns are not in rich supply, or much supply or… maybe any supply? But they're very effective and very cool, and so some Skaven want to pick their brains and see if they can figure it out. Stat(s): Learning, DC: ???, Traits: (Skaven), Results: Figure out what you know and don't know about Ratling guns.
[] [Learning] Big Book of Queekish, Part 1: Low Queekish is the most common common language across all of the Republic. While it is not known by all, many know it though few enough can write anything like it outside of Skaven. Create a book filled with translations and language tips and then if you have that someone could teach out of it. Stat(s): Learning, DC: Variable, Traits (Skaven), Results: Create a dictionary/translation book, or at least the starting notes for one.
[] [Learning] The World Before, Part 1: It is not going to be easy, and there's a distinct lack of good parchment or so on to write it all down, but get stories from those who were slaves about their lives before. Learn a little about the world or at least the world as these various people saw it. Stat(s): Learning, Diplomacy DC: Variable, Traits (General), Results: Hear the stories of what the world was like for those before they became slaves, or at least some stories.
[] [Learning] Annals of the Revolution, Part 1: The stories people tell of revolution and uprising need to be remembered, whether written down or simply as stories remembered and passed along. It would also be a good way to get to know people, to be honest! Stat(s): Learning, Diplomacy, DC: 5/15/30/45/60, Traits (General), Results: Hear the stories of the revolution and get a picture of what has happened.
[] [Learning] Organizing the Scrolls: Any Skaven bureaucracy produces a lot of scrolls and non-tree paper and so on, and they are in completely disarray. Look through them… at this point you can't even know what you don't know. Stat(s): Learning, DC: 10/20/30/40/50/60/75/80/100, Traits (General) (Skaven), Results: Organize the paperwork and find out just what is buried away.
[] [Learning] Mountain Dwarven Knowledge: The Dwarfs of the Mountain know many things, though how willing they are to share literally anything, even the smallest scrap of anything, is unknown. But if you don't try, you can't know, and can't figure out what you need to do. Stat(s): Learning, Diplomacy, DC: ???, Traits (Mountain Dwarfs), Result: ???
[] [Learning] What are Lizardmen?: No seriously, what are they?! Talk to them, figure it out! Stat(s): Learning, Diplomacy, DC: ???, Trait(s): (Lizardmen), Result: ???
[] [Learning] Maps From Memory: Many-many rats went all over, use their memories of what this warren and nearby areas were like to create a better… or at least vaguely functioning, map of the Underground. Stat(s): Learning, DC: 15/30/45/60, Trait(s) Skaven, Results: Get better maps!
[] [Learning] The Great Rat Literacy Drive, Part 1:Many-many rats are not literate, especially former Slaverats. This is something that can be dealt with, can be solved… though it'll take time. Stats: Learning, DC: 25, Trait(s): (Skaven), Results: Begin a Skaven literacy program!
[] [Learning] What's Mine Is Mine: The Skaven use all sorts of mining technologies, from some limited railways for goods to a number of digging devices that use Warpstone. Figure out how to maintain those, and see what it would take to make more of them. Stat(s): Learning, DC: 25/50/75, Trait(s): Skaven, Results: Fix up mining equipment, learn how to make more of it. Consider other possible uses.
[] [Learning] Too Many Apples: One of the things the Republic lacks is anything like a doctor. Sick Skaven just got better or died, wounded Skaven mostly ditto. And of course the non-Skaven were treated even worse. There were some strange figures that treated the elite, but no more than that. Figure out what can be done with regards to doctors, healers, and so on. Stat(s): Learning, DC: 10/30/50/70, Trait(s): (Skaven) (General), Result: Find doctors, learn what you're missing to the extent that you don't.
[] [Learning] Anatomy of a Rat: Generally Skaven eat their foes and dead too quickly, but there are a few left over, and some of the more tinkery Skaven are curious about what a Skaven's anatomy is, and what their body is like. Let them do the experiments. Stat(s): Learning, DC: 25/50/75, Traits (Skaven), Results: Learn more about Skaven anatomy!
[] [Learning] Where-House: One of the oddest mysteries of Clan Rictus is that in their last few years they began to hide-scurry away warehouses at the corner of the Warren, supposedly guarded by fiendish traps! What lies within these hidden warehouses? Food? Treasure? Weapons? Nobody knows! Put together a team to seek it out! Stat(s): Stewardship, Intrigue, Martial, Learning, DC: Variable, better roll means better team, Traits: (Skaven) (Dangerous) Result: Mini-turn of raiding the warehouse, find ??
Piety
Name: Khitch Slicktongue
Race: Skaven
Age: 11
Bio: An older Skaven, he is nervous-worried about the new changes and wants to figure out what to do to replace the old ways. Or how to do it.
Stats:
Martial: 3
Diplomacy: 8
Stewardship: 7
Intrigue: 8
Learning: 8
Piety: ???, but presumably high.
Traits:
--???, he kept to himself.
Race: Skaven
Age: 11
Bio: An older Skaven, he is nervous-worried about the new changes and wants to figure out what to do to replace the old ways. Or how to do it.
Stats:
Martial: 3
Diplomacy: 8
Stewardship: 7
Intrigue: 8
Learning: 8
Piety: ???, but presumably high.
Traits:
--???, he kept to himself.
Choose 2
[] [Piety] Finding Priests: There aren't any priests on the Council, not that can be noticed, but there is still a need to deal with… religious problems of all sorts. Right now so little is known that even knowing what religious problems there are is not at all clear. Time to change that. Stat(s): Piety, Diplomacy, DC: 20/40/60/80/100, Trait(s): (General), Result: Find some potential non-Council religious advisors, learn a bit more about the general level of piety in the Republic.
[] [Piety] Manling Religions?: Manlings/Man-Things have too many religions. Even just learning the name of each of the ones worshipped and what they're about will take weeks of digging because Man-Things have so many of them. Stat(s): Piety, DC: 10, Trait(s): (Human), Results: Learn what Man-Thing religions are present, at least from some!
[] [Piety] Hunting Down Horned Rat Reactionaries: There are still some enemies within that might believe in the Horned Rat… or rather think it was a tragedy he disappeared. Sneaky sorts, allied with the fled reactionaries. Find them out, hunt them down, and punish them. Stat(s): Piety, Intrigue, Traits(s): (Skaven), Results: Find hidden reactionaries and others.
[] [Piety] Temple Assistence?: Each quarter has been doing its own work building religious places and so on. But perhaps the Governing Council could assist with building them and speed it up? Stat(s): Piety, Stewardship, DC: Variable, Trait(s) (General), Results: Potentially help speed up the construction of temples.
[] [Piety] Burial With Honor?!: Many died-suffered during the war, and some were buried and among Skaven most were eaten-mourned. But there are still some left to bury, and even more there are some strange sorts who want to create Burial-Place, where food is put into the ground to be wasted, or burned up but not to be used as fuel. Weird. Stat(s): Learning, Piety, DC: 20, Trait(s): General, Results: Get… something like a graveyard.
[] [Piety] Black Gold?: Some of the Fire Dwarves who have not rejected their God have tried to meet with the Council Leader, saying that the one they elected, while wise in many respects, is missing something. The legendary "black gold" a form of dark rock that is burnt to fuel the machines of the Fire Dwarves, surely must be present in the mountain, though no Skaven can report anything like it being seen, and the Fire Dwarf leader says the same. Stat(s): Piety, DC: ???, Trait(s) (Fire Dwarf), Results: Find Black Gold?
[] [Piety] Beings of Chaos?: These Chaos Gods are strange. Learn and ask about them, figure out just what they are. If anyone knows? Stat(s): Piety, Intrigue, DC: ???, Trait(s): (Dangerous) (Skaven), Results: Learn more about the Chaos Gods.
[] [Piety] A Civic Religion: Why shouldn't the Piebald Republic have songs as some religions do? Or big waving banners and rituals and stuff. Nobody's quite sure what kind of ritual, but surely it'd bring everyone together? Stat(s): Piety, DC: ???, Trait(s): (General), Results: Begin looking into the idea of rituals and practices meant to reinforce trust in the Republic.
[] [Piety] Dork and… Fork?: Orcs have gods, and there are two of them that are brother-things or something? The Skaven are pretty sure that one of them is called Dork or Mort or something? But which is which? Stat(s): Piety, Learning, DC: ???, Traits (Orc), Result: Learn about Fart and Mart, or whatever their names are. Learn to tell them apart.
Personal
Name: Adratse, also called Onesniff or Twicetail
Race: Skaven
Age: 7
Stats:
Martial: 17 (Personal Combat 22)
Diplomacy: 12
Stewardship: 9
Intrigue: 6
Learning: 11
Piety: ???
Bio: A brood guard who stood with the revolution, she led her sisters into victory and defeated a Chieftan trying to rally the reactionaries. Now she is Council Leader.
Description: Grey fur, remarkably neat and clean, a tail with a somewhat rough but very functional tail-blade on it, big eyes, clean ears, usually dressed in somewhat rough if vaguely functional armor.
Traits:
Brave: Andratse is brave and bold, and does not give into fear as easily. +2 to Personal Combat, +1 to Martial, +10 to Fear checks, +5 to checks to resist the Musk of Fear.
The Brood Guard: She has been well-trained in both combat and leadership, if not very experienced at all in the art of leading an army. +4 to Martial, a further +2 to Personal Combat
Calm: Andratse knows how to keep her head in a crisis, and think things through. +1 to Diplomacy, Stewardship, Learning, +5 to resisting the Musk of Fear, gain less narrative/mechanical stress during crisis situations.
Compassionate: Andratse is kind and believes in others, though she keeps it in balance for now. +2 Diplomacy, -1 Intrigue, +5 to actions meant to help or understand others.
Honest: Andratse is very straightforward for a Skaven. +2 Diplomacy, -1 Intrigue, honesty sometimes compels honesty in others by how surprising it is.
Overworking: Andratse works too hard sometimes. +1 to Stewardship and Learning, but narrative/mechanical stress increases, in general, are increased.
Semi-Polyglot: Andratse's understanding of language is quite good. +1 Diplomacy, +5 to rolls for actions to learn new languages in the Personal section.
Strategy--Go For the Head: Andratse knows how to end a fight: kill the leader. +10 to strategic maneuvers to attack or target the leader of an army, directly or otherwise, +3 to rolls to fight or attack such leaders personally.
Tactics--Sturdy: Andratse knows how to be tough. +1 to Personal Combat, gain an extra category of injury within combat before being disabled.
Tactics--Shoulder to Shoulder: Andratse knows how to fight together, +1 to Personal Combat, +5 to rolls when fighting as a group.
Untainted: Andratse is surprisingly clean, very clean for a Skaven. This makes her more appealing to non-Skaven and Skaven alike, though Skaven find that her scent, while pretty, is lacking the complexity of the true beauties. +1 to Diplomacy, a further +2 to diplomacy rolls/interactions with non-Skaven.
Quick: Andratse is very clever. +2 to all Stats except Piety, -2 to Personal Combat (to balance out the gain made by Martial increase.)
Equipment
--Spear-Halberd: The weapon of holding an enemy back, of poking them to pieces, of defending the Broodmothers. It is a popular weapon. +0 to Personal Combat*, +5 to enemies you have a range-advantage over.
--Tail-Blade: Put blade on tail, yes-yes? It is a very fast sort of weapon, not suited for all styles, but it has its uses.+1 to Personal Combat, cannot ever be fully disarmed.
--Cruddy Armor: Not very good, but it provides some protection. +0 PC*, can ignore glancing blows.
Race: Skaven
Age: 7
Stats:
Martial: 17 (Personal Combat 22)
Diplomacy: 12
Stewardship: 9
Intrigue: 6
Learning: 11
Piety: ???
Bio: A brood guard who stood with the revolution, she led her sisters into victory and defeated a Chieftan trying to rally the reactionaries. Now she is Council Leader.
Description: Grey fur, remarkably neat and clean, a tail with a somewhat rough but very functional tail-blade on it, big eyes, clean ears, usually dressed in somewhat rough if vaguely functional armor.
Traits:
Brave: Andratse is brave and bold, and does not give into fear as easily. +2 to Personal Combat, +1 to Martial, +10 to Fear checks, +5 to checks to resist the Musk of Fear.
The Brood Guard: She has been well-trained in both combat and leadership, if not very experienced at all in the art of leading an army. +4 to Martial, a further +2 to Personal Combat
Calm: Andratse knows how to keep her head in a crisis, and think things through. +1 to Diplomacy, Stewardship, Learning, +5 to resisting the Musk of Fear, gain less narrative/mechanical stress during crisis situations.
Compassionate: Andratse is kind and believes in others, though she keeps it in balance for now. +2 Diplomacy, -1 Intrigue, +5 to actions meant to help or understand others.
Honest: Andratse is very straightforward for a Skaven. +2 Diplomacy, -1 Intrigue, honesty sometimes compels honesty in others by how surprising it is.
Overworking: Andratse works too hard sometimes. +1 to Stewardship and Learning, but narrative/mechanical stress increases, in general, are increased.
Semi-Polyglot: Andratse's understanding of language is quite good. +1 Diplomacy, +5 to rolls for actions to learn new languages in the Personal section.
Strategy--Go For the Head: Andratse knows how to end a fight: kill the leader. +10 to strategic maneuvers to attack or target the leader of an army, directly or otherwise, +3 to rolls to fight or attack such leaders personally.
Tactics--Sturdy: Andratse knows how to be tough. +1 to Personal Combat, gain an extra category of injury within combat before being disabled.
Tactics--Shoulder to Shoulder: Andratse knows how to fight together, +1 to Personal Combat, +5 to rolls when fighting as a group.
Untainted: Andratse is surprisingly clean, very clean for a Skaven. This makes her more appealing to non-Skaven and Skaven alike, though Skaven find that her scent, while pretty, is lacking the complexity of the true beauties. +1 to Diplomacy, a further +2 to diplomacy rolls/interactions with non-Skaven.
Quick: Andratse is very clever. +2 to all Stats except Piety, -2 to Personal Combat (to balance out the gain made by Martial increase.)
Equipment
--Spear-Halberd: The weapon of holding an enemy back, of poking them to pieces, of defending the Broodmothers. It is a popular weapon. +0 to Personal Combat*, +5 to enemies you have a range-advantage over.
--Tail-Blade: Put blade on tail, yes-yes? It is a very fast sort of weapon, not suited for all styles, but it has its uses.+1 to Personal Combat, cannot ever be fully disarmed.
--Cruddy Armor: Not very good, but it provides some protection. +0 PC*, can ignore glancing blows.
Choose 2
[] [Personal] Broodguard: Whatever happens, you were a Brood Guard first, and there are still Broodmothers in what might be their final pregnancy, but is certainly the last such brood under a tyrannical system. In the next two months, the babies will be born out into the world. Guard them, protect them, make sure that nothing happens to upset them or cause problems. Result: Watch over the Broodmothers, make sure there are no problems, ???
[] [Personal] A Better Tail-Blade: The tail-blade that Andratse has is quite functional. It's not bad at its job… but it could be better. While some of the 'innovations' to it are more about status and making it prettier, others provide just that little extra edge. Result: Obtain a better Tail-Blade, increasing its bonus to Personal Combat by 1.
[] [Personal] Armored Improvements: The armor that Andratse uses now are less than ideal. Even a somewhat better set of armor might prove all the difference. Stat: NA, roll d100 flat, Result: Variable, obtain better armor, how much better depends on luck of the roll.
[] [Personal] Help Out: Andratse does not know when to relax. Can do one extra action in any category using her stats. Can only take once per turn.
[] [Personal] Oh for a Dwarf of Fire: that would ascend, the brightest heaven of invention. A Republic for a stage, Councilors to act, and Council Leaders to behold a swelling scene. Stat(s): ???, Result: Talk to K'Daaigak.
[] [Personal] Elves: Elves are wonderful, they provoke wonder. They are marvelous, they cause marvels. Elves are glamorous, they project glamours. Elves are enchanting, they weave enchantment. Elves are terrific, they beget terror. Stat(s) Diplomacy, Learning Result: Talk to the Elf-things and figure out what's going on there.
[] [Personal] Talking to Dragons: An adventure, they say, is not worth telling if there are not any dragons in it. Stat(s): Diplomacy, Result: Talk to the Dragons and figure out what they want and why they are here.
[] [Personal] 'Ere We Go: The Orcs are allies, but odd allies… indeed, until a few years ago Clan Rictus never took Orc slaves at all. This is very strange, very unusual, and worth looking into. Stat(s): Martial, Personal Combat, Orcs respect these more than pretty words,
[] [Personal] Concerning Halflings: Halflings must seem of little importance. They are neither renowned as great warriors, nor counted among the very wise. Yet they are a most hardy folk, and share a love of things that grow. Stat(s): Diplomacy, Stewardship, Result: Talk to the Halflings personally, and see just what they're up to.
****
A/N: Vote by PLANS. If you have two advisors on the same action, note one as [Secondary] when listing it, ala.
[] [Diplomacy] Do a funny dance.
-[] Dancemaster the Ugly
-[] [Secondary] Songmaster the High-Pitched
If you pick an action without assigning a Councilor, as you'll have to do in Piety, it will just roll a flat d100.
You can take related actions in multiple categories, as in the different 'looking other ways' options can stack and synergize, but you can't take, say, Where-house in multiple categories because letting you over-egg that is kinda boring. You get the team you get whenever you do it.
Please ask questions. I know this is a lot.
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The Where-House, Part 1: A Tale Of Long Days Past
- Pronouns
- They/Them
The Where-House, Part 1: A Tale Of Long Days Past
Once, there were four elves. Elves are a strange being, not much seen in distant days, but much present in those days. Elves were immortal beings of magic and might, but were inflexible as the sturdy oak, and though they lived long they often struggled to change once they were set into the mold of their life. These elves each hated the other, just as people might hate their brothers and sisters. But unlike brothers and sisters, it was not a game of: me against my brother, my brother and me against the world.
No, their hatred was too great for that.
Each of these four elves had by skill risen to what counted for leadership within a very strange community: elves taken captive by an even stranger race. The Skaven were a short-lived race, a blink in the eye to a human as a human is a blink in the eye to an Elf. But the Skaven were clever-quick beings, and they captured elves for reasons they did not tell the elves of. They ran experiments on those who had magical skill, they killed some to look in their bodies.
The elves could not imagine what they were looking for. Some said: surely they wish for the secrets of our long lives. But others said: the darkest of them, twisted by warpstone, can live a century, two centuries, more.
Some said: clearly they wish for magic. But others scoffed and said: they have magic of their own, however pathetic, and they are too short-lived to make much use of more magic than what they have.
But then some, the Elves of a far-off island, pointed out that Men lived pathetically short lives and yet some could become almost powerful enough to be worth considering in the ways of magic, even if not a one of them--in the view of such elves--was the equal of even a decently trained Elvish magic-user. For this was a world of magic, of course, and Elves were proud.
They gave compliments grudgingly, and yet their situation, which shall be discussed later, necessitated sense.
So there were four leaders, of four different sort of elves, though one pair hated each other less than the combinations.
First, there was the Reaver. She came from a land ruled by a Burnt King, and this Burnt King decreed that misery would be the order of the day. It was a vast and horrific Empire, spanning a whole continent and engaging in slavery, in murder, in every kind of evil. But the Reaver was no special figure. She was from a family that even thought itself poor, though it was not: it was a family with only a single slave.
No single-slave Elf could ever imagine to achieve all they wished. For the woman she loved, and indeed one might say lusted after, for she knew little enough about her--was a bloody-handed pious sort, the kind of Elf who admired only power and wealth and wished for a great deal of both.
And so the Reaver left her home to seek her fortune. She fought in many battles, honing her skills to a fine, fine point indeed. She even stepped into positions of authority as the second in command of this or that raiding party. She lacked the excellence to become the truly great Reaver Captain, or whatever name they call it. If one would be honest, one might say a Thief Captain, a Murderer Captain, a Lord of Dung and Lies. Or a Lady. But she might have in time gotten enough to go back, and then married her crush, and adopted some foundling to shape into a dread being.
Indeed, in another life she did just that, and became known in the latter days as the mother of a great Captain serving the Burnt Elf, and all were awed at her.
But instead she was captured, and made a slave, and now she dreamed of… what? Like many who think they are wise, she had not learned anything. She now intended to make herself a hero to this new Republic and win a good deal of wealth she could leave with, walking off if she needed to, running away if she needed to, and then return home. Then she could buy the slaves as she had planned and then some, but of course treat the slaves a little better than she'd been treated by the Skaven. She thought herself much improved, having learned compassion and decency and all sorts of things that were quite useless but which she told herself were not weaknesses as long as she pursued them in moderation.
The next elf was the Guardian, from a land now known as the Realm of the Phoenix. In this Realm, Elves were kinder if no less arrogant. They were the great Empire of the Waves, and at times they abused this for their own power, and at others they used it to help others. They were masters of every possible art, and yet they were also a dying people, very slowly dwindling away, fighting across the world and trading across the world and selling themselves dear for a world that saw only arrogance. But then again, child, they almost only ever showed their arrogance, and for every Elf deemed a friend to Humans, there were dozens who could have saved a thousand humans and by their behavior still been despised.
The Guardian was a warrior going along to protect an elf on a pilgrimage to first meet with the Emperor of far Cathay, and then to travel by land to the Empire of Man, as it was then called, though it was not the only Empire controlled by Humans, nor even the greatest. Nor the most just, the most advanced, or the most storied. But it was an Empire of a God named Sigmar, and it was an Empire that had ties of sorts with the elves.
But along the way back, the whole party, hundreds strong, was ambushed by Skaven. It should not have been quite so fatal.
Indeed, a few hundred well-trained elves were a match for an entire Skaven army. But they seemed to boil up from the ground, and poison seemed designed to take them down. But the Guardian also was on watch, and he fell asleep. Oh, he was in fact poisoned, but he did not learn that for a long time. A very long time in fact. So what he knew was simply that he nodded off and when he woke there were only a small number of elves left, taken captive.
None knew of his shame, and so he let himself be tortured and took leadership by charisma of the High Elves, as they were called, and now he saw a way that he might contribute! If only he could guide these Skaven to the path of upholding the order of the world rather than doing so much damage to it, then he would prove to himself that he had value.
Then there was the Mystic. He had humiliated himself as a fool in the land of the Eonir. Those who some called Wood Elves and others not Wood Elves at all. They lacked some connections that the so-called Asrai had, but in exchange they had others still. He had made bold claims about the nature of magic and many other things, and by making these claims had driven himself into a self-imposed exile. He was learned, but also a fool by Elvish standards, and an Elvish fool was wise in a sort of negative way. He and a handful of others of his age, who all wished to go to far Cathay. Indeed they had been taken just months after that of the Guardian's party. He could not go on, both because of the dangers and his own dawning realization that he had lost, and yet to stay was intolerable. There were only six others that knew as he did.
Finally, there was the Hunter from the Asrai, another type of wood elf closely bonded to their forests, less like the High Elves than the Eonir were. He was a skilled hunter, in tune with the nature of the woods, and strange as all great Elvish hunters must be. But while I say great, one must understand the difference between the great skill of a local prodigy and the great skill of a living legend. These sort of Wood Elves changed faster, and their ties with the forests almost helped them move at un-Elflike speed in certain moments. So it was when the rest of his kindred in his area sought to join a mission to hunt down a Shaman of the Beastfolk, he went.
They were led by an Elf who was also a hawk, and they succeeded in killing their target when a great catastrophe occured. The attack by Fire Dwarves, a sort of Dwarf that worshipped dark Gods and destroyed the very land itself, divided up the hunting party, and a dozen of them, the Hunter included, were swept up in the attack.
And so these four spent long years in slavery and then were freed, and each for his reason sought leadership over the Republic. But each was foiled all together, but they were still given a great task, and a vote in leadership. These were things that the Elves did not understand: for Elves were, in those days, a people of monarchies. But let nobody claim that there is some inherent characteristic to everything and everyone.
But there are many characteristics gained by long habit.
They were given the task of unlocking the "Where-House." When the Skaven and other slaves rebelled, they had liberated so many. This Piebald Republic stood as a symbol of something new, though time would tell if it would survive. But for now, they wanted to see just what this hidden building off from the main area truly held. It was a truly imposing building, but none had gone in and out. And this raised many-many questions, yes-yes. Indeed, nobody could talk of anything else among the Council when the topic was brought up.
For the great council in which they met, a council of many-many races, was full of many who dreamed of dark secrets and took joy in the idea of uncovering things. But they also were hesitant of it, and so they called upon the Elves to a simple task: create a team to go after the Where-House. Could they have instead sent an army? Perhaps, but as big as the Where-House was, it would have been odd to send an army.
Plus, and this is a lesson I hope you will never have to learn: even the kindest army is a plague of locusts with sticky fingers. If they wanted any and all treasure or goods hidden into the Where-House to go missing mysteriously, they could very well have sent in a whole army. Instead, four elves were supposed to put together a team.
So the Guardian, Reaver, Mystic and Hunter discussed those who were wisest in the ways of all things. And so they of course agreed that Elves were, and so that most of any knowledge on the team could simply come from them. But out of scruples at the last moment they brought a rat, Garlus Squeaktail, to translate for them, and another Skaven, "Blow Up" Batty, who was a very junior apprentice indeed by the standards of both Elves and Skaven. The one was talkative and learned, the other quiet and learned, and that was it.
And when they discussed the greatest fighters in the entire Republic, the only name that even got mentioned other than themselves was quite busy with her own duties. So they nominated themselves, and were done with it.
Now they had a team of six people, and some were content with it. The Hunter was a lonely sort, and the Mystic a skeptical sort. But the Reaver was a woman who knew the value of a crowd… but she had her own means. She spread stories how she could as to what she would do to those who didn't join up, and skulked in dark corners looking for the sketchy sorts. This got her Henry Muggins, an amateur Manling thief of sorts, and after a long hesitation Vol Ashborn, a Skaven of a most sneaky and yet oddly fair mind.
And so they were eight.
But the High-Elf, the Guardian, too was the sort who went lonely. And yet he had an idea.
In the third meeting of the Council, two weeks after the election, he proposed that anyone who came along up to some limit be given an extra set of rations, a dozen coins or two dozens, and perhaps promises of more. He knew that the more greedy races reacted well to that.
The Council Leader looked at him. At all of them, when they were called in.
Each had different thoughts about the Skaven called Andratse. She was strange: while the scent of all Skaven after the death of the Horned Rat had gone from terrible to merely very bad, she was oddly clean, if nervous. She was chewing away at a teeth-stone, to keep them from growing out of control. She looked at each of them, and despite her size and the fact that she was, of all things, a Skaven she seemed to be considering them.
The Guardian thought she looked stress, and knew what it was: she was a Broodguard, and if he did not fully know what that task was, he knew what it was like to be someone who couldn't do his duty. She was winding herself up further and further, thinking of whatever her duty was and without the time to fulfill it. Even if she had a new duty, that did not solve anything.
The Reaver thought she looked tough in a fight, but too honest, too open. If she truly wanted to kill the Council Leader she could, but what would it solve? Truly. She did think that Andratse seemed not to be hungry in the way that the Reaver thought everyone who didn't have enough would be. She didn't demand more and more, she still carried with her armor and equipment more fitting a conscript than what the Reaver was sure must surely become some strange sort of Rat-Queen.
The Hunter considered her strange, for he had a sharp nose and he'd noticed the same clean way she smelled. People were supposed to smell of dirt and woods, and all the green living things of the world--not decay, but also not nothing more than faint but low-quality soap and the tinnitus bit of sweat.
The Mystic wondered what secrets a "Broodguard" truly had, and whether there was any way to learn them. She did not seem to have any hidden talent in magic… but then he would not know even if she had. He hardly wished to spend a long time around her.
But so it was, that many responded to it. An Orc sure to get a "proppa scrap" for Orcs were a most warlike race, and not like the Orcs that you might have met, and many greedy Manlings, and even a dwarf who refused to look at any of the elves but clearly wanted gold and grog alike.
Twenty-four strong were they, though many of the additions were not the peak of competence, but numbers had their own weight.
And so they came above a vast stone and steel building, two floors high and as large as a palace seemingly, going almost to the ceiling of the area dug out for it, and pressing against both walls like a fat man's shirt against his belly.
And with them they had brought… (Choose 1)
[] A ladder and a strange, cursed Warpstone drill.
The intrepid team attempts to drill their way in through the roof. It will not be even remotely secretive, will involve exposure to (refined) warpstone, and depending on location some awkwardness with getting down… but it's also impossible to set off any traps near the entrance.
[] A battering ram…
Batter down the huge front gate, but if there's anyone in waiting they'll know it way in advance and be ready to attack. Depending on what exactly is waiting for them, such a head-on charge could be a bloodbath.
[] A set of lockpicks and more…
Maybe secrecy, but if it succeeds and someone is watching the entrance it might be all for naught, and if it fails one of the other methods will need to be brought up, and a delay of a day might see a few chicken out or change their minds and make everyone look quite foolish.
[] Something else…
Write-in, subject to veto.
A/N: Your rolls and your choice were too funny not to make a whole thing out of. This isn't actually a look into the future, just "a" future, and probably not even a likely one, and I don't think the next update will be in this style of telling.
Also, did you know there's an election on? I'm running for re-election as Councilor, but a lot of other great people are also running!
Check it out!
https://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/threads/community-council-2022-2023-election-voting-now-open.107712/
Once, there were four elves. Elves are a strange being, not much seen in distant days, but much present in those days. Elves were immortal beings of magic and might, but were inflexible as the sturdy oak, and though they lived long they often struggled to change once they were set into the mold of their life. These elves each hated the other, just as people might hate their brothers and sisters. But unlike brothers and sisters, it was not a game of: me against my brother, my brother and me against the world.
No, their hatred was too great for that.
Each of these four elves had by skill risen to what counted for leadership within a very strange community: elves taken captive by an even stranger race. The Skaven were a short-lived race, a blink in the eye to a human as a human is a blink in the eye to an Elf. But the Skaven were clever-quick beings, and they captured elves for reasons they did not tell the elves of. They ran experiments on those who had magical skill, they killed some to look in their bodies.
The elves could not imagine what they were looking for. Some said: surely they wish for the secrets of our long lives. But others said: the darkest of them, twisted by warpstone, can live a century, two centuries, more.
Some said: clearly they wish for magic. But others scoffed and said: they have magic of their own, however pathetic, and they are too short-lived to make much use of more magic than what they have.
But then some, the Elves of a far-off island, pointed out that Men lived pathetically short lives and yet some could become almost powerful enough to be worth considering in the ways of magic, even if not a one of them--in the view of such elves--was the equal of even a decently trained Elvish magic-user. For this was a world of magic, of course, and Elves were proud.
They gave compliments grudgingly, and yet their situation, which shall be discussed later, necessitated sense.
So there were four leaders, of four different sort of elves, though one pair hated each other less than the combinations.
First, there was the Reaver. She came from a land ruled by a Burnt King, and this Burnt King decreed that misery would be the order of the day. It was a vast and horrific Empire, spanning a whole continent and engaging in slavery, in murder, in every kind of evil. But the Reaver was no special figure. She was from a family that even thought itself poor, though it was not: it was a family with only a single slave.
No single-slave Elf could ever imagine to achieve all they wished. For the woman she loved, and indeed one might say lusted after, for she knew little enough about her--was a bloody-handed pious sort, the kind of Elf who admired only power and wealth and wished for a great deal of both.
And so the Reaver left her home to seek her fortune. She fought in many battles, honing her skills to a fine, fine point indeed. She even stepped into positions of authority as the second in command of this or that raiding party. She lacked the excellence to become the truly great Reaver Captain, or whatever name they call it. If one would be honest, one might say a Thief Captain, a Murderer Captain, a Lord of Dung and Lies. Or a Lady. But she might have in time gotten enough to go back, and then married her crush, and adopted some foundling to shape into a dread being.
Indeed, in another life she did just that, and became known in the latter days as the mother of a great Captain serving the Burnt Elf, and all were awed at her.
But instead she was captured, and made a slave, and now she dreamed of… what? Like many who think they are wise, she had not learned anything. She now intended to make herself a hero to this new Republic and win a good deal of wealth she could leave with, walking off if she needed to, running away if she needed to, and then return home. Then she could buy the slaves as she had planned and then some, but of course treat the slaves a little better than she'd been treated by the Skaven. She thought herself much improved, having learned compassion and decency and all sorts of things that were quite useless but which she told herself were not weaknesses as long as she pursued them in moderation.
The next elf was the Guardian, from a land now known as the Realm of the Phoenix. In this Realm, Elves were kinder if no less arrogant. They were the great Empire of the Waves, and at times they abused this for their own power, and at others they used it to help others. They were masters of every possible art, and yet they were also a dying people, very slowly dwindling away, fighting across the world and trading across the world and selling themselves dear for a world that saw only arrogance. But then again, child, they almost only ever showed their arrogance, and for every Elf deemed a friend to Humans, there were dozens who could have saved a thousand humans and by their behavior still been despised.
The Guardian was a warrior going along to protect an elf on a pilgrimage to first meet with the Emperor of far Cathay, and then to travel by land to the Empire of Man, as it was then called, though it was not the only Empire controlled by Humans, nor even the greatest. Nor the most just, the most advanced, or the most storied. But it was an Empire of a God named Sigmar, and it was an Empire that had ties of sorts with the elves.
But along the way back, the whole party, hundreds strong, was ambushed by Skaven. It should not have been quite so fatal.
Indeed, a few hundred well-trained elves were a match for an entire Skaven army. But they seemed to boil up from the ground, and poison seemed designed to take them down. But the Guardian also was on watch, and he fell asleep. Oh, he was in fact poisoned, but he did not learn that for a long time. A very long time in fact. So what he knew was simply that he nodded off and when he woke there were only a small number of elves left, taken captive.
None knew of his shame, and so he let himself be tortured and took leadership by charisma of the High Elves, as they were called, and now he saw a way that he might contribute! If only he could guide these Skaven to the path of upholding the order of the world rather than doing so much damage to it, then he would prove to himself that he had value.
Then there was the Mystic. He had humiliated himself as a fool in the land of the Eonir. Those who some called Wood Elves and others not Wood Elves at all. They lacked some connections that the so-called Asrai had, but in exchange they had others still. He had made bold claims about the nature of magic and many other things, and by making these claims had driven himself into a self-imposed exile. He was learned, but also a fool by Elvish standards, and an Elvish fool was wise in a sort of negative way. He and a handful of others of his age, who all wished to go to far Cathay. Indeed they had been taken just months after that of the Guardian's party. He could not go on, both because of the dangers and his own dawning realization that he had lost, and yet to stay was intolerable. There were only six others that knew as he did.
Finally, there was the Hunter from the Asrai, another type of wood elf closely bonded to their forests, less like the High Elves than the Eonir were. He was a skilled hunter, in tune with the nature of the woods, and strange as all great Elvish hunters must be. But while I say great, one must understand the difference between the great skill of a local prodigy and the great skill of a living legend. These sort of Wood Elves changed faster, and their ties with the forests almost helped them move at un-Elflike speed in certain moments. So it was when the rest of his kindred in his area sought to join a mission to hunt down a Shaman of the Beastfolk, he went.
They were led by an Elf who was also a hawk, and they succeeded in killing their target when a great catastrophe occured. The attack by Fire Dwarves, a sort of Dwarf that worshipped dark Gods and destroyed the very land itself, divided up the hunting party, and a dozen of them, the Hunter included, were swept up in the attack.
And so these four spent long years in slavery and then were freed, and each for his reason sought leadership over the Republic. But each was foiled all together, but they were still given a great task, and a vote in leadership. These were things that the Elves did not understand: for Elves were, in those days, a people of monarchies. But let nobody claim that there is some inherent characteristic to everything and everyone.
But there are many characteristics gained by long habit.
They were given the task of unlocking the "Where-House." When the Skaven and other slaves rebelled, they had liberated so many. This Piebald Republic stood as a symbol of something new, though time would tell if it would survive. But for now, they wanted to see just what this hidden building off from the main area truly held. It was a truly imposing building, but none had gone in and out. And this raised many-many questions, yes-yes. Indeed, nobody could talk of anything else among the Council when the topic was brought up.
For the great council in which they met, a council of many-many races, was full of many who dreamed of dark secrets and took joy in the idea of uncovering things. But they also were hesitant of it, and so they called upon the Elves to a simple task: create a team to go after the Where-House. Could they have instead sent an army? Perhaps, but as big as the Where-House was, it would have been odd to send an army.
Plus, and this is a lesson I hope you will never have to learn: even the kindest army is a plague of locusts with sticky fingers. If they wanted any and all treasure or goods hidden into the Where-House to go missing mysteriously, they could very well have sent in a whole army. Instead, four elves were supposed to put together a team.
So the Guardian, Reaver, Mystic and Hunter discussed those who were wisest in the ways of all things. And so they of course agreed that Elves were, and so that most of any knowledge on the team could simply come from them. But out of scruples at the last moment they brought a rat, Garlus Squeaktail, to translate for them, and another Skaven, "Blow Up" Batty, who was a very junior apprentice indeed by the standards of both Elves and Skaven. The one was talkative and learned, the other quiet and learned, and that was it.
And when they discussed the greatest fighters in the entire Republic, the only name that even got mentioned other than themselves was quite busy with her own duties. So they nominated themselves, and were done with it.
Now they had a team of six people, and some were content with it. The Hunter was a lonely sort, and the Mystic a skeptical sort. But the Reaver was a woman who knew the value of a crowd… but she had her own means. She spread stories how she could as to what she would do to those who didn't join up, and skulked in dark corners looking for the sketchy sorts. This got her Henry Muggins, an amateur Manling thief of sorts, and after a long hesitation Vol Ashborn, a Skaven of a most sneaky and yet oddly fair mind.
And so they were eight.
But the High-Elf, the Guardian, too was the sort who went lonely. And yet he had an idea.
In the third meeting of the Council, two weeks after the election, he proposed that anyone who came along up to some limit be given an extra set of rations, a dozen coins or two dozens, and perhaps promises of more. He knew that the more greedy races reacted well to that.
The Council Leader looked at him. At all of them, when they were called in.
Each had different thoughts about the Skaven called Andratse. She was strange: while the scent of all Skaven after the death of the Horned Rat had gone from terrible to merely very bad, she was oddly clean, if nervous. She was chewing away at a teeth-stone, to keep them from growing out of control. She looked at each of them, and despite her size and the fact that she was, of all things, a Skaven she seemed to be considering them.
The Guardian thought she looked stress, and knew what it was: she was a Broodguard, and if he did not fully know what that task was, he knew what it was like to be someone who couldn't do his duty. She was winding herself up further and further, thinking of whatever her duty was and without the time to fulfill it. Even if she had a new duty, that did not solve anything.
The Reaver thought she looked tough in a fight, but too honest, too open. If she truly wanted to kill the Council Leader she could, but what would it solve? Truly. She did think that Andratse seemed not to be hungry in the way that the Reaver thought everyone who didn't have enough would be. She didn't demand more and more, she still carried with her armor and equipment more fitting a conscript than what the Reaver was sure must surely become some strange sort of Rat-Queen.
The Hunter considered her strange, for he had a sharp nose and he'd noticed the same clean way she smelled. People were supposed to smell of dirt and woods, and all the green living things of the world--not decay, but also not nothing more than faint but low-quality soap and the tinnitus bit of sweat.
The Mystic wondered what secrets a "Broodguard" truly had, and whether there was any way to learn them. She did not seem to have any hidden talent in magic… but then he would not know even if she had. He hardly wished to spend a long time around her.
But so it was, that many responded to it. An Orc sure to get a "proppa scrap" for Orcs were a most warlike race, and not like the Orcs that you might have met, and many greedy Manlings, and even a dwarf who refused to look at any of the elves but clearly wanted gold and grog alike.
Twenty-four strong were they, though many of the additions were not the peak of competence, but numbers had their own weight.
And so they came above a vast stone and steel building, two floors high and as large as a palace seemingly, going almost to the ceiling of the area dug out for it, and pressing against both walls like a fat man's shirt against his belly.
And with them they had brought… (Choose 1)
[] A ladder and a strange, cursed Warpstone drill.
The intrepid team attempts to drill their way in through the roof. It will not be even remotely secretive, will involve exposure to (refined) warpstone, and depending on location some awkwardness with getting down… but it's also impossible to set off any traps near the entrance.
[] A battering ram…
Batter down the huge front gate, but if there's anyone in waiting they'll know it way in advance and be ready to attack. Depending on what exactly is waiting for them, such a head-on charge could be a bloodbath.
[] A set of lockpicks and more…
Maybe secrecy, but if it succeeds and someone is watching the entrance it might be all for naught, and if it fails one of the other methods will need to be brought up, and a delay of a day might see a few chicken out or change their minds and make everyone look quite foolish.
[] Something else…
Write-in, subject to veto.
Learning: 1d100+20 (Average Learning)+5 (Curiosity)-10 (Working Together Problems)* =60
Martial: 1d100+14 (Average Martial)+5 (The Reaver's Boon)+5 (The Guard's Heart)-10 (Working together problems)*=39
Intrigue: 1d100+16 (The Dark Elf Goes Off On His Own)+5 (Reaver's Hate)=68
Stewardship: 1d100+13 (The High Elf Gets High On Their Own Supply)+5 (Vague Wealth, Vague Promises)=81, well.
*Negated by the mystery of this option.
Martial: 1d100+14 (Average Martial)+5 (The Reaver's Boon)+5 (The Guard's Heart)
Intrigue: 1d100+16 (The Dark Elf Goes Off On His Own)+5 (Reaver's Hate)=68
Stewardship: 1d100+13 (The High Elf Gets High On Their Own Supply)+5 (Vague Wealth, Vague Promises)=81, well.
*Negated by the mystery of this option.
A/N: Your rolls and your choice were too funny not to make a whole thing out of. This isn't actually a look into the future, just "a" future, and probably not even a likely one, and I don't think the next update will be in this style of telling.
Also, did you know there's an election on? I'm running for re-election as Councilor, but a lot of other great people are also running!
Check it out!
https://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/threads/community-council-2022-2023-election-voting-now-open.107712/
Last edited:
The Where-House, Part 2--Squeaker Voice: I’m In
- Pronouns
- They/Them
The Where-House, Part 2--Squeaker Voice: I'm In
It wasn't "Blow Up" Batty's fault. You try working with Clan Skyre tech, oh yes-yes, you'll see-understand just why it is hard-impossible. You're always going to make mistakes, and then you blow up once or twice, and then your smell is ruined and none of the other Skaven want to be seen with you at a party, and so then why even bother trying to smell interestingly bad, really? Once you reach that point, it's best to just make sure you always smell of gunpowder, because at least that makes sense.
Batty had, as it were, a very many-many things that he--or she, it didn't matter to him, or maybe it did, but he'd been rendered infertile and he was just fine with it, he wasn't a Broodmother and never woulda wanted to be anyways--thought but didn't say.
He was a very quiet Skaven, when things were not blowing up. Hopefully they wouldn't be now. They all climbed up the ladder to be on the top of the building.
"Drill near the front, perhaps? That's what the High Elf says," a human said to Batty, who was carrying a box with the warpstone drill to keep it away from the Man-things, that reacted to it with fear.
"No-no, this bad-dumb idea. Enemy closest, and they might keep explosive-sensitive things up front."
"Then in the back?" the human said, after a blond, weird twiggy Elf-Thing talked further in a language Batty didn't understand.
"No- no, also likely to have dangerous-bad stuff. Maybe mid between start and first third." He gestured broadly, but was already searching out the right place. It was well-fortified, the top. Twenty-four people were up there and it wasn't even groaning. They were making sure to be at least a little bit apart, but still.
After a little bit more arguing they agreed, and so Batty was able to take out the Warpstone drill. It was no big thing, commonly used in the mines, though if they were used endlessly they'd eventually run out of Warpstone to use them. But it was easy enough to run, at least at first. He drilled it in around, shaking and holding into it tight as he went around and around until he'd almost finished completing a square a Man-thing could fit in, let alone a Skaven. And then there was a pop, and something exploded.
Batty yelped and pulled it back, and the whole ceiling piece came with it, revealing that he'd drilled right through a loaded Matchlock.
He'd almost hurt himself, and now that he looked down he could see that there were shelf after shelf of goods stretching all the way almost to the top. In the one he'd drilled over, there were several blackpowder weapons, some swords clearly looted from the dead, and more. Crate after crate, and more than a few treasure chests or simply piles of goods were clearly visible, and when he peeked his head down he could see that the entrance was covered in traps and snares, and that behind them stood two Skaven wielding a Rattling gun nervously, now trying to turn it around and carry it over towards them.
"Out of the way, Skaven," one of the Man-Things said, followed by another. They try to clamber down, but the gunpowder and the half-melted shelf seem to be less than helpful, and about halfway down, part of the shelf collapsed. One man fell straight down, the strange bearded figure hitting the ground and starting to scream and curse in a language Batty didn't understand. The other instead had a huge box fall on him when he hit the ground, and he just… didn't move.
The others, clustered around the entrance, hesitated before one of the Elves, the shorter one that smelled of sap for no good reason, began to climb down anyways. And then the others began to follow him, using the other shelf and moving very slowly.
But Batty knew they couldn't move too slowly, because the two Skaven, and half a dozen other Skaven, were trying to move to block them.
Batty made it down with his heart beating double-triple time and began to look around.
"Gromril!" the one Dwarf shouted as he ran towards a chest labeled, in Rictus-Queekish, "Worthless-Stupid Rock That Dwarfs Love."
And in the moments it had taken Batty to climb down, one of the very last, crates and treasure chests had been opened to reveal weapons of all kinds, ore, silver coins, whatever this Gromril was, and all of that just in the recent vicinity. In the distance he could see that there was what looked like a barricade, and it seemed as if the back two-thirds of the warehouse was even better defended.
Some of the Man-Things were clustered around the corpse-meal, while others were around the wounded Man-Thing, who was seemingly unable to carry his weight on his legs. Batty was no expert on these things, but he was pretty sure both were broken, and he had no idea what was happening to the spine. It was enough injuries that any Skaven with them who wasn't very secure would have been left to die. And even some who were secure, for that matter. But he didn't look as if he was on the verge of death, just unable to defend himself as the twenty-two odd remaining fighters clustered around and looked at the bounty laid out before them.
If this was just one row of what was up in the front… then what treasures lay in the back half of the warehouse, as protected as could be?
Where to go from here?
[] Try to take out the forces up front to be able to untrap the entrance, get the wounded out and if need be get reinforcements… but it'll give those in the back plenty of time to prepare for an assault or steel their nerves or set even more traps.
[] Leave one or two to scare off any Skaven seeking to assault… and then charge up to try to destroy the defenses present before they can really get going or before anyone can think about destroying anything that properly belongs to us… er, the Republic.
[] Write-in.
***
A/N: Could be better, could be worse! It's short which is why I decided to throw it up Wednesday night rather than Thursday morning.
It wasn't "Blow Up" Batty's fault. You try working with Clan Skyre tech, oh yes-yes, you'll see-understand just why it is hard-impossible. You're always going to make mistakes, and then you blow up once or twice, and then your smell is ruined and none of the other Skaven want to be seen with you at a party, and so then why even bother trying to smell interestingly bad, really? Once you reach that point, it's best to just make sure you always smell of gunpowder, because at least that makes sense.
Batty had, as it were, a very many-many things that he--or she, it didn't matter to him, or maybe it did, but he'd been rendered infertile and he was just fine with it, he wasn't a Broodmother and never woulda wanted to be anyways--thought but didn't say.
He was a very quiet Skaven, when things were not blowing up. Hopefully they wouldn't be now. They all climbed up the ladder to be on the top of the building.
"Drill near the front, perhaps? That's what the High Elf says," a human said to Batty, who was carrying a box with the warpstone drill to keep it away from the Man-things, that reacted to it with fear.
"No-no, this bad-dumb idea. Enemy closest, and they might keep explosive-sensitive things up front."
"Then in the back?" the human said, after a blond, weird twiggy Elf-Thing talked further in a language Batty didn't understand.
"No- no, also likely to have dangerous-bad stuff. Maybe mid between start and first third." He gestured broadly, but was already searching out the right place. It was well-fortified, the top. Twenty-four people were up there and it wasn't even groaning. They were making sure to be at least a little bit apart, but still.
After a little bit more arguing they agreed, and so Batty was able to take out the Warpstone drill. It was no big thing, commonly used in the mines, though if they were used endlessly they'd eventually run out of Warpstone to use them. But it was easy enough to run, at least at first. He drilled it in around, shaking and holding into it tight as he went around and around until he'd almost finished completing a square a Man-thing could fit in, let alone a Skaven. And then there was a pop, and something exploded.
Batty yelped and pulled it back, and the whole ceiling piece came with it, revealing that he'd drilled right through a loaded Matchlock.
He'd almost hurt himself, and now that he looked down he could see that there were shelf after shelf of goods stretching all the way almost to the top. In the one he'd drilled over, there were several blackpowder weapons, some swords clearly looted from the dead, and more. Crate after crate, and more than a few treasure chests or simply piles of goods were clearly visible, and when he peeked his head down he could see that the entrance was covered in traps and snares, and that behind them stood two Skaven wielding a Rattling gun nervously, now trying to turn it around and carry it over towards them.
"Out of the way, Skaven," one of the Man-Things said, followed by another. They try to clamber down, but the gunpowder and the half-melted shelf seem to be less than helpful, and about halfway down, part of the shelf collapsed. One man fell straight down, the strange bearded figure hitting the ground and starting to scream and curse in a language Batty didn't understand. The other instead had a huge box fall on him when he hit the ground, and he just… didn't move.
The others, clustered around the entrance, hesitated before one of the Elves, the shorter one that smelled of sap for no good reason, began to climb down anyways. And then the others began to follow him, using the other shelf and moving very slowly.
But Batty knew they couldn't move too slowly, because the two Skaven, and half a dozen other Skaven, were trying to move to block them.
Batty made it down with his heart beating double-triple time and began to look around.
"Gromril!" the one Dwarf shouted as he ran towards a chest labeled, in Rictus-Queekish, "Worthless-Stupid Rock That Dwarfs Love."
And in the moments it had taken Batty to climb down, one of the very last, crates and treasure chests had been opened to reveal weapons of all kinds, ore, silver coins, whatever this Gromril was, and all of that just in the recent vicinity. In the distance he could see that there was what looked like a barricade, and it seemed as if the back two-thirds of the warehouse was even better defended.
Some of the Man-Things were clustered around the corpse-meal, while others were around the wounded Man-Thing, who was seemingly unable to carry his weight on his legs. Batty was no expert on these things, but he was pretty sure both were broken, and he had no idea what was happening to the spine. It was enough injuries that any Skaven with them who wasn't very secure would have been left to die. And even some who were secure, for that matter. But he didn't look as if he was on the verge of death, just unable to defend himself as the twenty-two odd remaining fighters clustered around and looked at the bounty laid out before them.
If this was just one row of what was up in the front… then what treasures lay in the back half of the warehouse, as protected as could be?
Where to go from here?
[] Try to take out the forces up front to be able to untrap the entrance, get the wounded out and if need be get reinforcements… but it'll give those in the back plenty of time to prepare for an assault or steel their nerves or set even more traps.
[] Leave one or two to scare off any Skaven seeking to assault… and then charge up to try to destroy the defenses present before they can really get going or before anyone can think about destroying anything that properly belongs to us… er, the Republic.
[] Write-in.
***
Location, Location, Location--1d100+10 (Basic Wisdom)+5 (Batty's Advice)+5 (Tactical Sense of 24 combined means SOMETHING, right?)=1d100+20=96
Drilling: 1d100+15 (Known Technology)+5 (Batty's Advice)+10 (Good Location)=1d100+30=42, ow, but minor ow
Getting Down: 1d100-10 (Semi-Failure)=7
Getting Down 2: 1d100-5 (Caution, maybe too much)=86
Drilling: 1d100+15 (Known Technology)+5 (Batty's Advice)+10 (Good Location)=1d100+30=42, ow, but minor ow
Getting Down: 1d100-10 (Semi-Failure)=7
Getting Down 2: 1d100-5 (Caution, maybe too much)=86
A/N: Could be better, could be worse! It's short which is why I decided to throw it up Wednesday night rather than Thursday morning.
The Where-House, Part 3: I’ll Have Two Orders of Brutal, Cunning On The Side
- Pronouns
- They/Them
The Where-House, Part 3: I'll Have Two Orders of Brutal, Cunning On The Side
The attempt to coordinate fell apart almost immediately. They spent a key minute arguing with each other over who would stay and who would go. Ultimately, one Skaven and the Mountain Dwarf decided to stay, this mostly a result of the fact that there was Gromril around.
The Reaver looked as if she wanted to stay and see what she could loot here, and indeed in her rags there were still plenty of pockets, hidden places that she could section away just a little bit more loot than should be there.
But she could not--not even to acquire wealth--pretend that she was all that interested in the fate of a single human, and one she knew nothing about. So they charged forward.
They, charged, and forward. Two of those were true, but one of them only just. Instead what happened was that twenty different people charged forward, or rather ran without any coordination to turn it into the sort of charge that could break the ranks of determined enemies. And what they came upon when they reached a barricade of boxes and wood was certainly a determined enemy. Two different Ratling guns and about a dozen Skaven armed with what looked like Warplock pistols, and just as many armed, in shaking, nervous hands, with spears or axes or swords. But even though the Skaven hands are shaking, they are able to look down on the scattered charge and tell themselves they can win.
The Musk of Battle is not spreading like crazy, but neither is the Musk of Fear. Instead, gripping tight their weapons and considering what happened if they lost, what the Warlords and Chieftain would do once they found out. It had been weeks, but surely nothing had happened.
Though why were there Elves there, and Skaven?
But the Ratling guns fired out, and their enemies scattered. In a way it was lucky for their enemies that they had spread out so much, because it meant that only two of them died in those first moments, knocked down and then collapsed as the Warpstone bullets tore through flesh and bone. Warpstone warped what it touched, but most of all it moved faster than any musketball they would have ever seen.
The Rattling guns were finnicky weapons, given to failing or even sometimes exploding if used too much, but the two Skaven each manning the two sets of guns were apparently professionals, big and strong and equally desperate. But the enemy kept on coming, spread out too much to actually hose down without jamming. Another fell, and then a fourth, and then the elves and others were vaulting over the barrier.
There was no order, no careful fighting, just the rabid struggles of those who had fallen into an ocean of blood. What warfare was this, the Guardian would think, that people could just be mowed down from afar? The future of warfare was meant to be greater and greater glory, stronger and more mighty magic, not some dull and strange machine that killed and killed and killed some more. But wielding his sword, he began cutting through the enemy Skaven until a Warplock pistol buried itself in his shoulder.
He cursed in a language that, thankfully, nobody else could understand except the grinning Reaver.
But the Mystic was waving his arms, and one of the Ratling guns just... stopped working. There was a jam, and then a small puff of smoke, and they were down to one. The tide slowly began to turn, the fighting desperate and fierce and the dead piling up. But the Skaven were no longer behind a barrier, and this meant that their efforts were slowly falling apart.
In this small and intimate tide of blood and destruction, the Hunter had been quite forgotten.
But it was his belief that trying to charge a target such as this was pure folly, and so he had crept around, aware that the barricade could only be so long. While there were overturned carts and other boxes to try to discourage people from going around, there were only a Skaven or two watching out on the far left, and then soon fell to his arrows. He retrieved the arrows, aware that there were few chances to get more wood.
They pressed onward, and slowly but surely the warehouse defenders were collapsing. It was dark and strange and they hadn't had enough to eat, and even more than any of that there was the fact that elves were terrifying to fight. Even with an injured shoulder, he was terrifying to fight.
But the guards of this strange warehouse had their own backup. Several Stormvermin were moving forward, rallying the troops with yells and cuffs and threats. "Those who retreat-run die-suffer most," a Stormvermin called, and a clump of a half-dozen began to form around the three Stormvermin, enough that they could have at least held out against the injured and half-downed group. The Orc was limping, the Guardian was in a great deal of pain, and the Mystic was trying to figure out what spell would actually solve the problems next.
And then arrows began to rain down upon the Skaven, killing one and then two of them, and then hitting one of the bellowing Stormvermin in the neck. Stormvermin were large even by human standards, despite their tendency to crouch. But an arrow to the neck still hurt them well enough, and their armor didn't protect the back of their neck, just the front.
(Somewhere, a now-dead Skaven armorer was ranting about how smart-clever it was to make sure that the troops couldn't retreat-run without having to be exposed and vulnerable-weak. It was a true innovation in Skaven armoring, and saved the smallest imaginable scrap of iron per each set of armor, which meant it was quite useful and saved enough that for every several hundred suits of armor they could make an extra one. Savings-victory, yes-yes!)
And then as the arrows rained down, the Skaven formation broke up, shattered as the Reaver came among them with knives and swords and strange sharp things, grinning in joy as they were torn to pieces. Two smaller Skaven and a Stormvermin managed to retreat in the chaos, but the rest were down and the Reaver and the vengeful adventurers did not allow wounded even to survive… even if there were arguments for learning just what was going on here. They had lost too much, and suffered too greatly, and they were filled, besides, with the greedy sort of people and the vicious sorts of people who did not show mercy on those who had hurt them.
But meanwhile, the Hunter chased after his prey.
They kept on going, running as they did, until they got to something very strange. It was a huge metal door, half-open, that seemed to lead deeper into the earth, behind the back of the warehouse. He'd passed by box after box, not paying them any mind at all, because he needed to catch up to the Skaven. But now they were closing this huge door.
"Hurry-hurry, lock-close the door," one of them said, loud enough to hear through even inches of steel.
"I need permission-approval to lock-close the door, we will have to scurry-hurry to get it," another Skaven said.
"Quiet!" a deeper-voice Skaven yelled. "Silence yes-yes? Hurry or die-suffer-perish!" The Stormvermin, for that's what it was, clearly hit something as there was a meaty thunk and then a scream of pain.
But there was no sound of the door locking, just yet, and so he hurried, even raced, back.
It was a wonder, even just in front of them. There were strange Jezzarils, there were piles of Warplock weapons, there were lightning-casting devices last seen in the nightmares of some of those present, and there were a half-dozen Rattling guns still up on the shelves, beyond the ones that were being used for defenses. There were even a few Fire Dwarven Blunderbusses and other such simple weaponry, though not too much of it. There were piles of gold and piles of warpstone, and if this is what just one section of the back held it was a treasure unlike any they could have dreamed of.
But the price had been high. Five were dead outright, four were dying, two were walking wounded, the Guardian should be on the same category but was not going to be put out of any attack if one came, and all in all there were only nine people still capable of fighting, and that's if one counted some who should not be. But those who were left included a heavily bleeding but grinning Orc and most of the most-fortunate elves, who had gotten through it merely wounded rather than worse.
But they had done it. They'd driven back an enemy with superior numbers and a better position.
They'd done so at an absurd cost, and in the least efficient way possible, but they'd achieved their victory, at least here.
But now what?
What's the path forward? (Choose 1)
[] Charge in now, while the Hunter indicates they still might not have locked the vault/bunker/whatever it is. (Charge ahead now, less time for both sides to plan, less chance of the door being locked. Continues Action turn.)
[] Wait to see if the Orc can be induced to use a Ratling gun, if supplies can be distributed, and so on. (Take your time, more time for both sides to plan, much higher chance of having to drill through the vault door. Continues Action turn.)
[] Set a guard on the vault door and then focus on clearing out the rest of the area, and finishing off any stragglers. They can be watched for now. (End Action Turn, start Clean-Up and taking stock. Will have to spend another Action on assaulting/figuring out what's going on in the vault on a later turn.)
***
A/N: Man, those fucking rolls.
The attempt to coordinate fell apart almost immediately. They spent a key minute arguing with each other over who would stay and who would go. Ultimately, one Skaven and the Mountain Dwarf decided to stay, this mostly a result of the fact that there was Gromril around.
The Reaver looked as if she wanted to stay and see what she could loot here, and indeed in her rags there were still plenty of pockets, hidden places that she could section away just a little bit more loot than should be there.
But she could not--not even to acquire wealth--pretend that she was all that interested in the fate of a single human, and one she knew nothing about. So they charged forward.
They, charged, and forward. Two of those were true, but one of them only just. Instead what happened was that twenty different people charged forward, or rather ran without any coordination to turn it into the sort of charge that could break the ranks of determined enemies. And what they came upon when they reached a barricade of boxes and wood was certainly a determined enemy. Two different Ratling guns and about a dozen Skaven armed with what looked like Warplock pistols, and just as many armed, in shaking, nervous hands, with spears or axes or swords. But even though the Skaven hands are shaking, they are able to look down on the scattered charge and tell themselves they can win.
The Musk of Battle is not spreading like crazy, but neither is the Musk of Fear. Instead, gripping tight their weapons and considering what happened if they lost, what the Warlords and Chieftain would do once they found out. It had been weeks, but surely nothing had happened.
Though why were there Elves there, and Skaven?
But the Ratling guns fired out, and their enemies scattered. In a way it was lucky for their enemies that they had spread out so much, because it meant that only two of them died in those first moments, knocked down and then collapsed as the Warpstone bullets tore through flesh and bone. Warpstone warped what it touched, but most of all it moved faster than any musketball they would have ever seen.
The Rattling guns were finnicky weapons, given to failing or even sometimes exploding if used too much, but the two Skaven each manning the two sets of guns were apparently professionals, big and strong and equally desperate. But the enemy kept on coming, spread out too much to actually hose down without jamming. Another fell, and then a fourth, and then the elves and others were vaulting over the barrier.
There was no order, no careful fighting, just the rabid struggles of those who had fallen into an ocean of blood. What warfare was this, the Guardian would think, that people could just be mowed down from afar? The future of warfare was meant to be greater and greater glory, stronger and more mighty magic, not some dull and strange machine that killed and killed and killed some more. But wielding his sword, he began cutting through the enemy Skaven until a Warplock pistol buried itself in his shoulder.
He cursed in a language that, thankfully, nobody else could understand except the grinning Reaver.
But the Mystic was waving his arms, and one of the Ratling guns just... stopped working. There was a jam, and then a small puff of smoke, and they were down to one. The tide slowly began to turn, the fighting desperate and fierce and the dead piling up. But the Skaven were no longer behind a barrier, and this meant that their efforts were slowly falling apart.
In this small and intimate tide of blood and destruction, the Hunter had been quite forgotten.
But it was his belief that trying to charge a target such as this was pure folly, and so he had crept around, aware that the barricade could only be so long. While there were overturned carts and other boxes to try to discourage people from going around, there were only a Skaven or two watching out on the far left, and then soon fell to his arrows. He retrieved the arrows, aware that there were few chances to get more wood.
They pressed onward, and slowly but surely the warehouse defenders were collapsing. It was dark and strange and they hadn't had enough to eat, and even more than any of that there was the fact that elves were terrifying to fight. Even with an injured shoulder, he was terrifying to fight.
But the guards of this strange warehouse had their own backup. Several Stormvermin were moving forward, rallying the troops with yells and cuffs and threats. "Those who retreat-run die-suffer most," a Stormvermin called, and a clump of a half-dozen began to form around the three Stormvermin, enough that they could have at least held out against the injured and half-downed group. The Orc was limping, the Guardian was in a great deal of pain, and the Mystic was trying to figure out what spell would actually solve the problems next.
And then arrows began to rain down upon the Skaven, killing one and then two of them, and then hitting one of the bellowing Stormvermin in the neck. Stormvermin were large even by human standards, despite their tendency to crouch. But an arrow to the neck still hurt them well enough, and their armor didn't protect the back of their neck, just the front.
(Somewhere, a now-dead Skaven armorer was ranting about how smart-clever it was to make sure that the troops couldn't retreat-run without having to be exposed and vulnerable-weak. It was a true innovation in Skaven armoring, and saved the smallest imaginable scrap of iron per each set of armor, which meant it was quite useful and saved enough that for every several hundred suits of armor they could make an extra one. Savings-victory, yes-yes!)
And then as the arrows rained down, the Skaven formation broke up, shattered as the Reaver came among them with knives and swords and strange sharp things, grinning in joy as they were torn to pieces. Two smaller Skaven and a Stormvermin managed to retreat in the chaos, but the rest were down and the Reaver and the vengeful adventurers did not allow wounded even to survive… even if there were arguments for learning just what was going on here. They had lost too much, and suffered too greatly, and they were filled, besides, with the greedy sort of people and the vicious sorts of people who did not show mercy on those who had hurt them.
But meanwhile, the Hunter chased after his prey.
*****
They kept on going, running as they did, until they got to something very strange. It was a huge metal door, half-open, that seemed to lead deeper into the earth, behind the back of the warehouse. He'd passed by box after box, not paying them any mind at all, because he needed to catch up to the Skaven. But now they were closing this huge door.
"Hurry-hurry, lock-close the door," one of them said, loud enough to hear through even inches of steel.
"I need permission-approval to lock-close the door, we will have to scurry-hurry to get it," another Skaven said.
"Quiet!" a deeper-voice Skaven yelled. "Silence yes-yes? Hurry or die-suffer-perish!" The Stormvermin, for that's what it was, clearly hit something as there was a meaty thunk and then a scream of pain.
But there was no sound of the door locking, just yet, and so he hurried, even raced, back.
*****
It was a wonder, even just in front of them. There were strange Jezzarils, there were piles of Warplock weapons, there were lightning-casting devices last seen in the nightmares of some of those present, and there were a half-dozen Rattling guns still up on the shelves, beyond the ones that were being used for defenses. There were even a few Fire Dwarven Blunderbusses and other such simple weaponry, though not too much of it. There were piles of gold and piles of warpstone, and if this is what just one section of the back held it was a treasure unlike any they could have dreamed of.
But the price had been high. Five were dead outright, four were dying, two were walking wounded, the Guardian should be on the same category but was not going to be put out of any attack if one came, and all in all there were only nine people still capable of fighting, and that's if one counted some who should not be. But those who were left included a heavily bleeding but grinning Orc and most of the most-fortunate elves, who had gotten through it merely wounded rather than worse.
But they had done it. They'd driven back an enemy with superior numbers and a better position.
They'd done so at an absurd cost, and in the least efficient way possible, but they'd achieved their victory, at least here.
But now what?
Frontal Group:
--3 elves unwounded to modestly wounded.
--High-Elf Heavily wounded but still 'fighting.'
--An Orc wounded but happy
--A Human, unwounded
--Three Skaven, unwounded or lightly wounded, including Batty.
--Two human walking wounded, if not up for fighting
--Two dying/fatally wounded.
--Five dead
Back Group
Status: ???
Last Known Status
--1 dead human
--1 Badly wounded human
--1 Skaven
--1 Mountain Dwarf
--3 elves unwounded to modestly wounded.
--High-Elf Heavily wounded but still 'fighting.'
--An Orc wounded but happy
--A Human, unwounded
--Three Skaven, unwounded or lightly wounded, including Batty.
--Two human walking wounded, if not up for fighting
--Two dying/fatally wounded.
--Five dead
Back Group
Status: ???
Last Known Status
--1 dead human
--1 Badly wounded human
--1 Skaven
--1 Mountain Dwarf
Coordination: 1d100+5 (Motivated by Fortune)+10 (Greed Up)-10 (No Training Together)-10 (The Matter of hte Elves)=3, ow
Enemy Coordination: 1d100+10 (???)-20 (Bumrushed)-15 (A Month out of Contact)-10 (Paid Enough For this?)=39
Manning the Rattling Guns: 1d100+10 (Barricade)-10 (What???)=74
vs.
Fools Rush In: 1d100-5 (No Barricade)-10 (Coordination Disaster)+10 (Elves' Speed)+10 (Surprise!)=22
Riding A Tide of Slaughter: 1d100+10 (Desperate Greed)+10 (Rattling No Longer Near)+10 (Elvish Might)=58, just barely pushing through
Mystic's Attack: 1d100+10 (Elf)+5 (Mystic)-5 (Harried)=57, DC 40, it casts, just a little bit of help.
Hunter's Guile: 1d100+10 (What I do)+10 (Mystic Catching eyes)+20 (Slaughter catching eyes)=90, very good, though could be better, DC 30/60/90/110/140
Enemy Coordination: 1d100+10 (???)-20 (Bumrushed)-15 (A Month out of Contact)-10 (Paid Enough For this?)=39
Manning the Rattling Guns: 1d100+10 (Barricade)-10 (What???)=74
vs.
Fools Rush In: 1d100-5 (No Barricade)-10 (Coordination Disaster)+10 (Elves' Speed)+10 (Surprise!)=22
Riding A Tide of Slaughter: 1d100+10 (Desperate Greed)+10 (Rattling No Longer Near)+10 (Elvish Might)=58, just barely pushing through
Mystic's Attack: 1d100+10 (Elf)+5 (Mystic)-5 (Harried)=57, DC 40, it casts, just a little bit of help.
Hunter's Guile: 1d100+10 (What I do)+10 (Mystic Catching eyes)+20 (Slaughter catching eyes)=90, very good, though could be better, DC 30/60/90/110/140
[] Charge in now, while the Hunter indicates they still might not have locked the vault/bunker/whatever it is. (Charge ahead now, less time for both sides to plan, less chance of the door being locked. Continues Action turn.)
[] Wait to see if the Orc can be induced to use a Ratling gun, if supplies can be distributed, and so on. (Take your time, more time for both sides to plan, much higher chance of having to drill through the vault door. Continues Action turn.)
[] Set a guard on the vault door and then focus on clearing out the rest of the area, and finishing off any stragglers. They can be watched for now. (End Action Turn, start Clean-Up and taking stock. Will have to spend another Action on assaulting/figuring out what's going on in the vault on a later turn.)
***
A/N: Man, those fucking rolls.
The Where-House, Finale: The Ark
- Pronouns
- They/Them
The Where-House, Finale: The Ark
It was an absurd building. The Dwarfs entering it goggled, almost impressed despite themselves. Of course they had done more, and they'd done more that would last centuries at the very least. And they'd done things far more beautiful and impressive. But this Where-House, as many were starting to call it--because where had all this come from, how could it be possible--had been made in a matter of a single month a year and a half, two years ago. No more than that.
Nobody could say why it was made, or why it was so stuffed with goods. Even just going through them, getting the list of it, took days and days. It was too large to simply be an emergency storehouse, because if that was so it would have been less off the beaten path. And the vault itself similarly did not make any sense unless it was someplace to run. But to run from what?
If they'd know a revolution was coming they would have acted far differently than they had. Better? No, no rat thought that. But they would have cracked down, they would have made the slaughter a ritual,. of survival, they would have killed if need be eighty percent of the entire population of Crookback mountain and thought it an entirely fair deal, because as long as they had the Broodmothers they could always recover in a generation or three. The Under-Empire was eternal, it could not ever end under any circumstances.
And yet, then what was this?
They had a great deal of food, all of it carefully packed away and dried, enough to fill crate after crate, enough to match the casks of water and alcohol of all kinds, even Dwarf drinks and stolen quantities of Elvish wine. Not much of it, but the Elves had cooed over it, eager to try it out. The food, in such quantities, would make the raid worth it on its own. But the Dwarf has taken away with the Gromril and they swear they will use it for such purposes as will benefit the Republic and the oaths they owe. The Fire Dwarfs have said the same about the Blunderbusses, but it is not known what use they are. And of course, there is the matter of the Man-thing weapons.
There are eight different main cannons and nearly thirty Man-thing pistols, and there is plenty of cannonballs and gunpowder, though of course once it is used up, it will truly be used up.
Again, more questions, more confusion: why?
On top of all of this, there were rack after rack of weapons, thousands upon thousands in all, with a small number of good quality, but many more merely the average sort of thing you would give a Clanrat. But even that is more metal than they had access to before, and even the worst of it is at least decently forged.
Of course, with any windfall comes the arguments about them, and already the question has been raised about what will be done with the weapons of good quality. While they are few in an absolute sense, there are still plenty enough to talk about.
Choose 2
[] [Weapons] Give them to the Council members to distribute and choose as they wish, as a mark of their wisdom in knowing who should keep such weapons.
[] [Weapons] They are to be a sort of 'badge of office' for officers within the Republic's army.
[] [Weapons] They are to be kept in reserve to arm those in case of desperation.
[] [Weapons] There will be more weapons of this quality: some should be set aside as trade good.
[] [Weapons] Write-in.
While the amount of Warpstone found is merely dozens and dozens of treasure chests, a pitiful amount when it is so valuable, they have found the oddest assembly of Clan Skyre tech imaginable. It cannot be cheap. It cannot even be imagined to be anything but an outlay of wealth beyond that which the Republic can now dream, to have collected such technology when Skyre is so discerning. A dozen Warplock Jezzails, long guns that can hit from a powerful distance, are matched by nine Ratling guns, plus two that are broken, and an entire crate of poison wind globes. Beyond that, though, there were also three Warpfire throwers and two Warp LIghtning Cannons.
There are also something close to five-hundred Warplock Pistols.
More prosaically, there are some odd diagrams and plans for what look like stolen Clan Moulder plans, half-completed. The Man-Things have thrown up on seeing it, at least in one cases.
There are calls that these should be destroyed, but at the same time, even a scrap of Clan Moulder's beast-making could have great value.
What to do about the plans?
[] [Moulder] Destroy them. They have no place in the Republic, and only cause problems.
[] [Moulder] Keep them. They could be of use, and complaint is nothing.
Less controversially are the plans from Clan Pestilens. Despite including mention of all manner of diseases, there doesn't seem to be any classic Pestilens disease-factory present in the warehouse. This has left many rats patting themselves on the back… and then looking nervously towards the Vault. But what Pestilens did have, of course, were a number of antidotes and medical supplies: bandages, things to ease the pain, ways to seal up and twist wounds so that they can be treated.
There are a few lucky amulets, and a small quantity of religious literature to be consigned to the flames. The amulets are set aside to be examined later to see just what they have, but there are not many and so even if one of them has some unusual and amazing effect, it is no matter on a grand scale.
There is an entire section that serves as a library of sorts, with thousands of stolen Man-Thing volumes clearly taken from merchant caravans over years and years, and dumped without rhyme or reason in one corner of the warehouse. (Unlocks Learning Project: The Libratty.)
Then there was the gold. And silver. And gems. And ores. There is enough steel to clad an army, there is gold in quantities that cannot be believed, and the gems are judged quite fine by a dragon when shown it--and then in a few cases confiscated as payment for having made the evaluation. It is quite clear that with this Clan Rictus could have bought just about everything imaginable. While it is not so much as to eliminate all scarcity, for the truth is that a government is a hole in which you pour funding, it is heartening and distressing indeed.
It did not make sense.
The cold and dead stones did not answer, and did not even provide interesting questions back.
It was a mystery, and one she could not unravel. Not yet.
A/N: Treasure… mystery! Terror!
It was an absurd building. The Dwarfs entering it goggled, almost impressed despite themselves. Of course they had done more, and they'd done more that would last centuries at the very least. And they'd done things far more beautiful and impressive. But this Where-House, as many were starting to call it--because where had all this come from, how could it be possible--had been made in a matter of a single month a year and a half, two years ago. No more than that.
Nobody could say why it was made, or why it was so stuffed with goods. Even just going through them, getting the list of it, took days and days. It was too large to simply be an emergency storehouse, because if that was so it would have been less off the beaten path. And the vault itself similarly did not make any sense unless it was someplace to run. But to run from what?
If they'd know a revolution was coming they would have acted far differently than they had. Better? No, no rat thought that. But they would have cracked down, they would have made the slaughter a ritual,. of survival, they would have killed if need be eighty percent of the entire population of Crookback mountain and thought it an entirely fair deal, because as long as they had the Broodmothers they could always recover in a generation or three. The Under-Empire was eternal, it could not ever end under any circumstances.
And yet, then what was this?
They had a great deal of food, all of it carefully packed away and dried, enough to fill crate after crate, enough to match the casks of water and alcohol of all kinds, even Dwarf drinks and stolen quantities of Elvish wine. Not much of it, but the Elves had cooed over it, eager to try it out. The food, in such quantities, would make the raid worth it on its own. But the Dwarf has taken away with the Gromril and they swear they will use it for such purposes as will benefit the Republic and the oaths they owe. The Fire Dwarfs have said the same about the Blunderbusses, but it is not known what use they are. And of course, there is the matter of the Man-thing weapons.
There are eight different main cannons and nearly thirty Man-thing pistols, and there is plenty of cannonballs and gunpowder, though of course once it is used up, it will truly be used up.
Again, more questions, more confusion: why?
On top of all of this, there were rack after rack of weapons, thousands upon thousands in all, with a small number of good quality, but many more merely the average sort of thing you would give a Clanrat. But even that is more metal than they had access to before, and even the worst of it is at least decently forged.
Of course, with any windfall comes the arguments about them, and already the question has been raised about what will be done with the weapons of good quality. While they are few in an absolute sense, there are still plenty enough to talk about.
Choose 2
[] [Weapons] Give them to the Council members to distribute and choose as they wish, as a mark of their wisdom in knowing who should keep such weapons.
[] [Weapons] They are to be a sort of 'badge of office' for officers within the Republic's army.
[] [Weapons] They are to be kept in reserve to arm those in case of desperation.
[] [Weapons] There will be more weapons of this quality: some should be set aside as trade good.
[] [Weapons] Write-in.
While the amount of Warpstone found is merely dozens and dozens of treasure chests, a pitiful amount when it is so valuable, they have found the oddest assembly of Clan Skyre tech imaginable. It cannot be cheap. It cannot even be imagined to be anything but an outlay of wealth beyond that which the Republic can now dream, to have collected such technology when Skyre is so discerning. A dozen Warplock Jezzails, long guns that can hit from a powerful distance, are matched by nine Ratling guns, plus two that are broken, and an entire crate of poison wind globes. Beyond that, though, there were also three Warpfire throwers and two Warp LIghtning Cannons.
There are also something close to five-hundred Warplock Pistols.
More prosaically, there are some odd diagrams and plans for what look like stolen Clan Moulder plans, half-completed. The Man-Things have thrown up on seeing it, at least in one cases.
There are calls that these should be destroyed, but at the same time, even a scrap of Clan Moulder's beast-making could have great value.
What to do about the plans?
[] [Moulder] Destroy them. They have no place in the Republic, and only cause problems.
[] [Moulder] Keep them. They could be of use, and complaint is nothing.
Less controversially are the plans from Clan Pestilens. Despite including mention of all manner of diseases, there doesn't seem to be any classic Pestilens disease-factory present in the warehouse. This has left many rats patting themselves on the back… and then looking nervously towards the Vault. But what Pestilens did have, of course, were a number of antidotes and medical supplies: bandages, things to ease the pain, ways to seal up and twist wounds so that they can be treated.
There are a few lucky amulets, and a small quantity of religious literature to be consigned to the flames. The amulets are set aside to be examined later to see just what they have, but there are not many and so even if one of them has some unusual and amazing effect, it is no matter on a grand scale.
There is an entire section that serves as a library of sorts, with thousands of stolen Man-Thing volumes clearly taken from merchant caravans over years and years, and dumped without rhyme or reason in one corner of the warehouse. (Unlocks Learning Project: The Libratty.)
Then there was the gold. And silver. And gems. And ores. There is enough steel to clad an army, there is gold in quantities that cannot be believed, and the gems are judged quite fine by a dragon when shown it--and then in a few cases confiscated as payment for having made the evaluation. It is quite clear that with this Clan Rictus could have bought just about everything imaginable. While it is not so much as to eliminate all scarcity, for the truth is that a government is a hole in which you pour funding, it is heartening and distressing indeed.
*****
"These funds-goods," Andratse said to a blank wall, willing it to be a well, "Are too great for anything but a plan-scheme for the advancement of Clan Rictus. But if they were plan-scheming to seize a seat on the Council, then…"It did not make sense.
The cold and dead stones did not answer, and did not even provide interesting questions back.
It was a mystery, and one she could not unravel. Not yet.
Food: 16
Water/Drink: 17
Manling Guns/Cannons: 11
Weapons In General: 16
Warpstone: 10
Skyre Tech: 18
Moulder Monstrosities. 6,
Pestilens: ???
Magical Shit: 3, almost nothing, a few trinkets that might be of some use.
Cloth/Clothing/Other Luxury Goods: 11
Gold: 20… oh geeze
Ores/etc: 17
Books on other stuff: 15
Fire Dwarf Goods:
1d20+2 (Proxmity)=7, some Blunderbusses and the like, not much beyond that and a few pieces of fitted armor.
Water/Drink: 17
Manling Guns/Cannons: 11
Weapons In General: 16
Warpstone: 10
Skyre Tech: 18
Moulder Monstrosities. 6,
Pestilens: ???
Magical Shit: 3, almost nothing, a few trinkets that might be of some use.
Cloth/Clothing/Other Luxury Goods: 11
Gold: 20… oh geeze
Ores/etc: 17
Books on other stuff: 15
Fire Dwarf Goods:
1d20+2 (Proxmity)=7, some Blunderbusses and the like, not much beyond that and a few pieces of fitted armor.
A/N: Treasure… mystery! Terror!
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Turn 1 Results, Part 1: Battles and Scores (Martial+Diplomacy)
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Turn 1 Results, Part 1: Battles and Scores (Martial+Diplomacy)
Martial
Counting Heads
Rupert von Hummbingburg was just the sort of person to count heads. A mercenary Captain had to do more than fight well or even lead well in battle, because any such fool could wind up anywhere at all. They had to be able to count coins and deal with logistics, they had to be able to run a mercenary company.
Of course, if he'd ever had such materials to work with, if he'd ever had to deal with this he would have retired.
On the other hand, however, there was the fact that this was more variety than he'd ever seen before. He'd had Ogres of course, and some Halflings with his mercenary band when they'd made the assault.
…to rescue people, some of whom were already dead. An elaborate exercise in futility, but one that led him here.
There were worse sets of raw material with which to make an army, but there was a lot that was missing.
But he could at least tell them down to the rat what they had.
Bringing the Storm
The Stormvermin were proud to be addressed by someone who almost might be their equal. F'eresh for his part was glad to be included on such an important task. He resented Andratse's status, but if she was recognizing his obvious abilities, then surely she could not be so bad.
The Stormvermin were eager for a fight, and skeptical of the idea of training… but willing to hear it out. But of course, what did the Council want of them, anyways? They could not know. They'd voted, but their candidate had not won and others had voted and spread their votes at random, including a few for Andratse.
The bulk of the Stormvermin Should…
[] [Stormvermin] Serve as a training cadre! While it is true that they have no particular skill or patience for training, they do have skills they can pass on.
[] [Stormvermin] Be an elite force. While seventy-five isn't many, they can--especially if they are willing to lower themselves to new recruits--serve as an elite shock troop to be sent in at the right moment.
[] [Stormvermin] Serve as bodyguards and seconds to prominent units. Protecting them from harm and joining them if they wish to get into the thick of it, providing extra security and power to such Hero units… those that accept Stormvermin bodyguards, that is.
Hunting Parties
The Dark Lands were a hungry land, and a miserable one. The rain was acid, the sky darkened constantly with clouds, and when the sun pierced through it seemed strange and thin. Argrush certainly missed Far-Cathay--he didn't know why it was called that, din't seem that far, really, you just kept on walkin' and eventually the people'd speak different--but even the Man-thing Empire, as the Skaven called it, was a lot better lookin' than this.
Argrush was hungry, but less hungry than he was used to being. It was more the hungry of needin' to pack back on a few dozen pounds. He din't know why that was the case either, but he wasn't going to look no Gift Goblin in the guts: you just got to eatin', and if it was bad you'd deal with it later.
Not that he was allowed to eat Gobbo anymore, and he didn't miss it that much. A few of those Gobbos were around, the Gnoblars that was, and then there was a dozen hunters, and his trusted mercs, the boys and girls he'd fought with.
Girls, well, see, some of 'em wanted to see the world and eat large parts of it too, and he hadn't minded.
Thirty Ogres, twenty or so Gobbos, 40 Orcs, two dozen humans, both 'hunters' and 'fighters', twenty or so Skaven that were there to help haul stuff and so on, five Halflings that wanted to collect grass and figure out what was edible…
It was a lot, really. Nearly one-fifty was a bit too big, really, barely enough for them all to count with their fingers and toes. And also too big to catch the most sneaky beasts. No, those sorts 'eard 'em coming. But others heard 'em coming and thought they were a snack, and so after a day and a half of hunting, includin' some good 'unting at night when the monsters thought they were vulnerable, their packs and bags were almost two-thirds full. Could be better, could be worse, but enough food to feed his Ogres for a week or two, and the Dragon, and plenty of Man-Things or Manlings or Humies or whatever they wanted to call themselves, and even Skaven.
Maybe they'd go on another hunt at the end of the month, now that they were gettin' used to it.
He scratched his belly and held in a belch, waiting until the human had passed in front of him on his way to scout the edge of the grouping before letting it out.
The human swayed in the wind anyways. Twiggy little things, if not as twiggy as an elf.
And then he heard it. Fighting. Just over a rise. "Hey," he said, turning to the human. "Go check that out." He might have garbled it, as a huge Ogre missing several teeth might, but the human frowned and nodded.
He came back not long after, "There's a huge Caravan, and it's being attacked by what looks like a thousand Orcs! A whole band."
"Damn," Iznos said. "Must be dat time'a year, den. Tribes always raiding around when the big fights groups come, fulla loot."
A Skaven chittered in stress, but Agrush was considering it. "Thousand, you say?"
"Yes, there's too many, we need to--"
"Charge their line. We can take 'em," Agrush said.
"W-what? We need to pick them off, and--"
"Charge 'em. Big ol' wedge, shove through 'em the whole way. You're gonna see why I'm called Linebreaker. Whole squad of Imperials, dat lot, dey just turn and run. Orcs are stronger but did any of 'em look black?"
"N-no," the human said.
Honestly, if they'd been Black Orcs, Argrush wouldda said to just turn right around and leave 'em to die. A thousand Black Orcs was a fuggin' army and he wouldn't fight them without at least equal numbers.
But regular Orcs. Green and mean and many of 'em not ready for an Ogre-Orc charge?
"You ready to do 'dis?" Agrush asked, turning to Iznos.
Iznos nodded, frowning thoughtfully. "We should come down the hill and hit 'em at an angle. If'n there's foighting they'll not see it coming."
"We should go right with you and then behind you, yes-yes. We follow-break through where you do, then turn-cut into those that would hit you in the back-neck," one of the Skaven declared, boldly. He doesn't remember what the Skaven's name was, but he thinks it's female. But Skaven are a little like Orcs: half the time they just don't differentiate at all.
Though at least Skaven sometimes have a word for it, unlike Orcs.
Better get ready for the charge.
The Orcs don't hear them coming. Until, of course, they do. Argrush Chimeraeater Linebreaker Cannonball Catcher the Huge will not be charging an enemy line silent, and the Orcs are screaming WAAGH and so are some of the humans, just because everyone's yelling. The Skaven and Humans and Gobbos all seem to be keeping up, almost, falling behind but not so much they'd be left behind as they raced right for the center-right of the Orcish formation. The Greenskins were bunched up, pushing and shoving at each other while fighting the hundreds of outmatched caravan guards.
Hundreds, or something, he couldn't quite count and he was too bush as he hit the line and his huge greatsword went flashing in one hand while in the other a heavy maul slammed down onto another head. 'e'd lost his real good swords and weapons when he was enslaved, but he'd built some good ones for this, and a good gutplate and decent armor elsewhere, and so the Orcs falling beneath his charge didn't even scratch his skin. They were so close together that one swing could down two or three, and he eventually had to turn towards the front of the formation lest he just keep on running out into the open. The charge was not even being slowed a little.
The Orcs were melting away, and he felt it wasn't one of those clever Human things where they melted away from the charge and then started shooting him in the backs. Humans had tried it once, and then he'd caught their cannonballs and thrown them back and the human's had left their own "Musk of Fear" all over the ground at that.
A fond memory, but not one he could indulge now. He slammed and pushed and shoved and the Orc formation just… collapsed. It wasn't just him of course, there was a wedge of Ogres and Orcs trampling all beneath them. And then Iznoz turned, heading to back up those fighting the Orcs 'behind' him.
But Agrush was not done. Not even close. He had someone he was going to.
The Orc in charge was huge, about the same size as Iznoz, and dressed in rough but very heavy armor and wielding what looked like a huge axe on a pole. "Who da fuck are you?!" the Orc grunted, stepping forward towards him. "Foight me, Ogre!"
"Go around em!" Agrush bellowed, and all obeyed without even thinking. "I'll git em!" He belched once more, this time in challenge, and scratched at his gut plate. Yes, it was ready. There was no backup, just Agrush and the Orc.
The Warboss grunted once more and swung.
Agrush was faster, and lifted the Orc off his feet and hurtled him down to the ground. The Orc stood up, and this time Agrush charged after him with his weapons ready. His sword slammed down to prevent the Orc from blocking and then the hammer shattered the Orc's other shoulder.
"Oi!" the Warboss screamed, and headbutt him. Agrush staggered back but brought the sword up to slash at the other arm. He severed enough tendons that the death-blow the Warboss might have gotten towards his chest instead just tore a huge chunk out of his side, a gash thick and painful but not so big a deal.
He slammed the maul down again, and then dodged the next blow, letting it skitter off the armor over his upper arm, and continued to pound the Orc Warboss into nothing. By the end of it he's panting, and rather exhausted, but nobody's attacking him.
When he turns, he sees why. The Humans and Skaven and everyone else have done well. Dozens and dozens and dozens of Orcs have died with wounds that certainly weren't Ogres or Orcs, and only a few of them are down, and none of them have stopped movin', so maybe they'll be able to be saved.
There's a few hundred Orcs left, and Iznoz is… talkin' to them.
Agrush is, honestly, both tired, hungry and curious. Most of the Orcs other than the ones gettin' talked to are dead. Already some of the humans are going, with raised hands, to talk to the Caravan, as are the Skaven. A few have run off to tell Crookback, because he remembers they all agreed they wanted to talk to a Caravan, and here's a Caravan, a half a day or so away.
But they can figure all that stuff out. He limped over to listen.
"An' so youze got a choice," Iznoz declared. "We've started the Piebald 'Public, buncha species all livin' together, fighting the whole Darklands together. We ain't lacking for fights already, an' all of us workin' together are making a WAAGH that'll burn down za world, boyz! Just a few rules: no Krumpin' each other or any of the others. Beat the shit out of each other, but killin's for the enemies. An' we foit who the whole Republic decides to Fight." He grinned as a few stepped forward. "If you come at me with weapons I'll kill you with weapons, if you come at me with fists I'll know you bastards down!" he yelled, knocking out one of the challengers in a single, almost absent-minded, punch.
"We're led by Andratse, an' he's a Skaven who beat one'a their Warlords by kicking him so hard he fell over. An' by me. An' by that Ogre over there that just made your boss look like a snotling."
Argrush didn't bother to correct Iznoz about anything. The wound wasn't much, it was true, but it could have been worse. But what Waagh is there when an outnumbered force crushes yours?
In the end, almost all the Orcs signed up, grumbling even as some of them did.
Diplomacy
Merchants
Conrad Schricker was in his thirties, and had thought that he was beginning his ascent up the ranks. There were about a half-dozen yearly major caravans between the Empire and Cathay, each of them on what ultimately turned into a two year trip (at least) in which great profits could be obtained or total ruin could follow. Some of these failed, some succeeded, and a success didn't have to be large to fund another attempt. Which meant that in all nearly a thousand people, half of them serving as guards, took part in his expedition.
The way it worked was simple: Far Cathay was not lacking in so many goods, and so you had to choose a balance of goods they would value enough to trade it for things like silk and irreplaceable artifacts, things that to Cathay were merely expensive rather than nearly priceless.
Before three years ago, you then went past the Skaven and paid out half your bounty right there. The secret, Conrad knew, was very simple: half of the goods were things like food and weapons, wood and gunpowder and other things. The Skaven of Crookback Mountain took half of all goods, not half of all value, especially when they saw little value in strange paintings or books with intentionally dull covers meant to trick the flighty Skaven mind.
Oh, of course the Skaven didn't exist. There was a Conspiracy of Silence, and that meant that you lied in the reports about "bribes for Beastmen" and if any merchant declared there was no need for such bribes for mere Beastmen, you began preparing to buy up his businesses and seduce his wife once he inevitably went missing.
Oh, Conrad hadn't done that per se, but his mother had been the widow of such a stupid merchant.
But now in the last three years, it'd been four in five, or even nine in ten, and so even more care was needed to create things of great value but little worth to Skaven. Even so, the trade was halfway dying.
The Skaven were strangling their own profits.
But not entirely. And so he went with his half-a-thousand guards and trained protectors.
And then within a single hour a hundred of them died and it seemed as if the Greenskins would simply destroy the Caravan.
Which is when he was saved, and when he heard the impossible tale--from Ogres, from Orcs, from Humans too--of a new Republic. He didn't know just what that truly meant, was it something like Marienburg? He didn't know. He stroked his beard and listened to the words. But he knew that even if they were lies and he was being prepared for the slaughter, there was nothing he could do. He could not possibly move fast enough to be unnoticed by the Skaven.
Small merchant groups sometimes could try, and once in a while they succeeded.
But his caravan? If he refused and tried to run, his horses would just die tired.
Less than a hundred and fifty of them had, with just a handful of losses, seen off a thousand Orcs… or recruited some of them.
So he choked on the ash and he allowed himself to be moved forward.
Hopefully, they weren't going to demand all of it; hopefully whatever this "Republic" was would be reasonable.
All of this led to the next morning, when a party came… led by a Skaven.
The sun was beating down fiercely, and this Skaven was dressed in… what looked like a dress, until he realized it was, sort of, but turned into the sort of gown a self-important old man might wear, black and white, almost painfully drab and yet also absurd. The Skaven looked like any Skaven he'd seen, though he smelled of way too much soap, as if someone had used a dozen bars of soap in the bath. Of course, compared to what Skaven usually smelled like, this was not so bad.
"Greetings-salutations, I am Chittertongue, an Envoy and Council-Member of the Piebald Republic, yes-yes," the Skaven said, flanked on both sides by armed Skaven as he stepped forward. "Very pleased-happy to meet you." He held out a hand, and reluctantly Conrad took it.
"What is this Piebald Republic?"
"It is a government-people, in which each race-people elects fairly representatives-councilors, and together they decide-deliberate for the good-betterment of all," Chittertongue said. "So we wish to establish-change our behavior-actions towards merchants-traders. Yes-yes, we wish to reduce costs-fees down to one-fifth, and perhaps less, and trade-bargain with merchants to buy-barter for their goods." Chittertongue looked proud and looked around. "This is a rich convoy, yes-yes, and we will do good business. The Piebald Republic does not break its agreements, yes-yes."
"How long has this Republic existed…?"
"Two weeks ago we held our first meeting-conference, but the revolution-revolt happened nearly two months ago. The Horned Rat is dead, long live-prosper the Republic!" He began chittering excitedly, and then turned to look back up at Conrad.
"You say you want to trade? What do you need. As many as I lost this day, if there really is an opportunity here…"
Conrad trailed off, a dread surmise coming to him. It was a silly idea in a way, dangerous in all sorts of manners, but there was usually a month or three built into the timeline, if not more. And the truth was, they had made good time through the pass. He was now imagining what profits he could make if he, instead of going to Cathay, tried to see just what could be traded here. It would be a way to stand out: yes, if he made three or four good Cathay runs he could retire richer than ever, but he'd be just another one of the experienced Cathay-Runners in the Empire.
But if he opened up an entirely new market…
It was a risk. If this was an elaborate trap to get slaves… well, he could send runners out with some guards, and report that if they didn't hear back in so long, it was to be assumed the whole route would be doomed.
"How would you feel if we stayed at your Republic for a few months, trading, before moving on?"
"This would be very great-good, yes-yes."
Conrad saw the eagerness, and wondered what its cause was.
But he also knew there was a chance here. And he liked his odds.
Merchant Dealings…
When word gets back of the Piebald Republic, what is reported as what they want most in trade goods? This does not mean that there won't be other goods, but this is what will be on everyone's lips! (Choose 3)
[] [Goods] Food: While there is a drive to be at least somewhat self-sufficient, it is going to be a difficult task indeed. But of course, this reveals a lot to the world, and there are some that think that if they're always reliant on food from outside they'll never have security.
[] [Goods] Gunpowder: It is possible to make at home, of course, but in the short and medium term there might be all sorts of things where it is far easier to buy gunpowder than make it to use.
[] [Goods] Information: That strangest of currency, but news and stories of what is happening in the Empire, in Tilea, and more is worth not just its weight in gold--which would be nothing--but everyone's weight in gold.
[] [Goods] Magical Artifacts: One of the trickier things to price and even trickier to acquire, but they remain one of the tools that can help give the Piebald Republic an edge.
[] [Goods] Finished Weapons: The other end of things is that muskets and pistols and more are difficult and finnicky things to make, and being able to buy them by the hundreds would certainly help out the cause.
[] [Goods] Wood and Paper: It is a difficult one indeed, and the same arguments that go for the reliance on outside food go for wood and paper, but there are plenty of tools and use-cases for having more paper, and it should be relatively cheap except in bulk.
[] [Goods] Mercenaries: Not a usual request, but passing the word along about an employer who is willing to forgive many things and accept many things could be valuable… maybe. It would certainly be a risk.
[] [Goods] Books: Whether on magic or on the world, or even just stories, books are both a good source of knowledge, spare paper if processed, and also fiber!
[] [Goods] Seeds: Yes, everyone says that nothing grows in the Dark Lands, but a few things did grow… or so it seems? Perhaps you should at least give it a try.
[] [Goods] Animals: Rather than food, what the Republic needs is ways to grow food. Hopefully in the long term Squigs and Rhinoxen can be a major source of protein, but adding pigs and chickens and perhaps even seeing if there's a way to get cows grass that won't kill them could help.
[] [Goods] Water: Even harder to transport, and something one should rely on outside sources for even less… but at the moment extra water for the next year or so might well be a desperate need. Yet on the gripping tail, the proverb about selling water in the desert comes to mind.
[] [Goods] Tools: A loom, a hammer, the little things that help you make more things. But of course, quality is not always guaranteed.
[] [Goods] Write-in, subject to veto.
What major message is also sent back over time? (Choose 1)
[] [Message] Immigration wanted! Willing to accept anyone of any Race as long as they agree to obey the laws. Come in, whether mercs looking to settle down or refugees from tyranny and oppression. Something something lamp light the golden door…
[] [Message] We have a lot of gold and treasure and wealth, and so we'll pay top coin for anything and everything. We're open for business!
[] [Message] The Horned Rat is dead, and we… or someone, have killed him! The end of the Under-Empire is upon us! The old world is dying, and the new world struggles to be born!
[] [Message] Trading is nice and all, but all Empires should burn, and all thrones should topple in the long-run, just putting that out there, not an immediate concern but down with Chaos and down with tyranny. Thank you, have a nice day.
[-] Change da world, my first message, goodbye. (Not an option, just wanted to make that joke.)
[] [Message] Write-in, subject to veto.
As for the 20% Tariff, what are the two categories that are most picked-through for the 20% (Choose 2)
[] [Tariff] Food: It is ingenious, in a way: the cost for them to stay here in food can be paid for in large part by their own supply of goods and then some. Of course, this profits you the least, but is quite practical.
[] [Tariff] Weapons: The common 'taking' from the caravans, weapons would help further outfit the fighters of the Republic, allowing them to defend it all the better.
[] [Tariff] Books: Knowledge is power, and they brought plenty of manuscripts both for pawning off to Clan Rictus and to trade with Cathay, which as far as they know lacks the most modern printing abilities, though they of course have moveable type of a sort.
[] [Tariff] Armor: Admittedly, it's… gently used armor, but the merchant leader of the whole caravan is quite clear that the armor of the dead guards is for sale… and is not salvage.
[] [Tariff] Herbs and Plants (Deadly): Different from food, Clan Rictus apparently had a hunger for plants to feed their… something. Herbs meant for poison were quite common.
[] [Tariff] Herbs and Plants and goods (Healing): Both for the demands of Clan Rictus and, importantly, for their own use and use in Cathay, they have plenty of ointments, ungulents, fresh packages of leeches just ready to work their miracle healing, and so on!
[] [Tariff] Ores and Metals: Another good taken along almost entirely to be sold off to the Skaven, but certainly very useful, especially as the mines have not yet been restarted and yet the need for metals continues to press.
[] [Tariffs] Write-in, subject to veto!
Language Woes
The languages of this new Republic are many, and Teyoti seemed oddly dedicated. Each week it gave exactly and precise reports, in both percentages and in numbers, and each week it found more and more divisions… of course, someone had to look at the report to make clear that the differences between Noble Reikland and Peasant Reiikspiel speech were not an entirely differently language.
Indeed, it came to both Andratse and Chittertongue that in one sense Teyoti did not understand what "a language" was as a distinct entity that could remain "a language" even though it was different in one way or another.
But Teyoti's attention to detail was useful with just a little bit of dividing out.
Among the Man-Things, Reikspiel was a first language of one kind or another represented sixty-seven percent of that total, with Tilean representing eleven percent, Kislevan three percent, Brettonian one percent, Dark Tongue three percent, and Cathayan twelve percent, Indyan two percent, and a number of other small languages mixed in. But of course, among Man-Things, Reiklander as a language for any of them at all was up to eighty-nine percent of the total as Cathayan merchants and travelers tended to know at least some Reiklander tongue.
The "Old Worlder" languages are almost but not quite mutually intelligible, and thus are sometimes classified as dialects, and within them of course there are regional dialects of these "dialects."
Ogres spoke Grumbarth, with around three-quarters of them also speaking Reikspiel or Cathayan, while Gnoblars spoke what is called Gobb-Grumbarth as their primary language, and only spoke a spattering of other languages.
Mountain Dwarfs spoke a Khazalid as weill as Reikspiel in many cases, while Fire Dwarfs spoke first and most of all Khazalid, but with considerable modifications (or perhaps it is the Mountain Dwarfs that have done the modifications, there is no agreement.)
Ghazhakh was the tongue of the Night Goblins, and shared many elements with "Gobb-Grumbarth" which seemed to be a combination of Ghazhakh and Grumbarth in its nature.
Orcs spoke Orrakh, but had also learned several other languages, largely depending on where they operated.
Elves spoke to nobody at all, but when they did they did so in four different tongues.
Lizardmen had their own tongue, while Halflings all spoke Reikspiel.
It was Queekish, especially the growing Creole that Low Queekish was becoming, that was the most common language of all. Nearly 75% of all the Republic spoke and understood Low Queekish with a moderate level of understanding, and nearly 94% of the total population knows at least some Low Queekish. Literacy in this is of course far, far lower, but literacy in general is very low in the Republic and even amongst Skaven, where all Clanrats are expected to be literate, the literacy rate is therefore relatively low… if far higher than among the average Man-Thing, according to the most recent glance at the matter.
It should not be that hard to spread understanding of Low Queekish, but of course there was also Rictus Queekish and High Queekish hanging around, and so many of the scrolls and other documents were written in High, and not low. Indeed "Low Queekish" was often regarded as not worth writing in among the elite of Clan Rictus.
Teyoti, continuing even after all told him(?) to stop, has further analyzed that the Orc's written language, what little of it there is, seems to base itself heavily on Reikspiel and Queekish, while the Night Goblins written language uses Queekish Script or Khalazad Script, depending on which mountain they were stolen from, while the Ogres and Gnoblars' written tongue seems to share more with the complex symbols of Cathay.
Therefore he has proposed that Queekish, Reikspiel, and Ghazhakh be the official spoken languages of the Republic, and that Queekish, Reikspiel, Kalazad, and Cathayan be the official written languages of the Republic.
This has led to an incredibly large argument and one thrown chair. But it is the case that Queekish, Reikspiel, Khalazad, and Cathayan are the basic scripts for all the written forms of the languages of the Republic… but four different written script bases is hardly viable, and the Orcs and Gnoblars would be furious at the idea of an official language that did not include their language.
Just about the only thing that's clear is that Queekish is still the language that, spoken and written, is most well-known in common among all of those in the Republic.
Result: You've learned a lot, and almost started a fight, but it does seem as if Reikspiel and Queekish might be important languages, as might Ghazhakh and Cathayan. Understanding of an acceptable level of Low Queekish is at 71% and rising, but an understanding of High Queekish and technical forms of the language is very low, as is literacy in general.
****
A/N: This is winding up too long for a single update, and also there are already enough votes here.
Martial
Counting Heads
[] [Martial] Counting Heads: At the moment the Governing Council does not know exactly how many troops of each kind, or even the total number. It is embarrassing, and perhaps even humiliating, but the revolution was quick and chaotic and so there is a lot left undone. Stat(s): Learning, DC: 10 Results: Get an actual handle on troop numbers and composition available , Traits: (General)
–[] Rupert von Hummingburg
1d100+7 (Learning)+5 (The Business of The Mercenary)=1d100+12=53, DC10, pass
–[] Rupert von Hummingburg
1d100+7 (Learning)+5 (The Business of The Mercenary)=1d100+12=53, DC10, pass
Of course, if he'd ever had such materials to work with, if he'd ever had to deal with this he would have retired.
On the other hand, however, there was the fact that this was more variety than he'd ever seen before. He'd had Ogres of course, and some Halflings with his mercenary band when they'd made the assault.
…to rescue people, some of whom were already dead. An elaborate exercise in futility, but one that led him here.
There were worse sets of raw material with which to make an army, but there was a lot that was missing.
But he could at least tell them down to the rat what they had.
--2000 Military Slaverats
Description: Not all Slaverats are meant to be thrust out into battle as a first resort. There are those deemed most useful to be worked to death in the mines, or worked to death in the furnaces, or worked to death doing simple assembly work, or worked to death as slaves, or… a lot of working to death. But then there were those who were deemed mostly useful as troops. They were given almost no training and poor weapons and thrust out there.
Traits: Very Poor to Poor Attack; Very Poor to Poor Defense; Very Poor to Poor Morale; Very Poor Equipment; Eager For Revolution; Some Training
--4000 'Militia Slaverats
Description: All the rest of the Slaverats. Technically they're able to be used in a fight, but if they're running into battle something has gone wrong because they're not actually primarily fighters and have actual jobs to do.
Trait: Very Poor Attack; Very Poor Defense; Very Poor Morale; Very Poor Equipment; No Training; Economically Necessary
--700 Clanrat Soldiers
Description: The Clanrats that are most attached or connected to battle, these represent the average soldier, and have at least some training and equipment. Usually.
Traits: Poor to Average Attack; Poor Defense; Poor to Average Morale; Poor Equipment; Moderate Training
--500 Clanrat Militia
Description: Even less useful in war than Slaverats, and no less replaceable, these are the clerks, forge-workers, a few forge-overseers that switched sides, and so on.
Traits: If You Send Them to Battle, Ow
--75 Stormverin
Description: Stormvermin are the Elite of the Elite among Skaven soldiers, these heavy infantry are well-equipped and well-trained, as far as such things go.
Traits Good to Great Attack; Good Defense; Average to Good Morale; Average to Good Equipment; Good Training; Elite Arrogant
--3 Rat Swarm Managers
Description: These stranger 'pipers' of sorts seem to still possess the ability to gather and draw rat swarms, whether to use them to spy on an area or attack in vast swarms.
Traits; No Attack; Can Summon and Gather Rat Swarms?; Average Morale
--50 "Weapons Teams" Members
Description: Those with experience either making or maintaining the technologies bought from Clan Skyre, or in using them, these are experts without portfolio at the moment. An inflex of Warpstone Jezzails, Ratling Guns, and more could have them as the core of a training cadre to bring to life all sorts of new teams.
--800 Assorted Man-Thing Mercenaries
Description: Between those who were mercenaries, and those who have been trained and found themselves quite worthy in the aftermath, half of the population is ready and able to fight. Their losses would be a tragedy, but men and women, the young and old, have proven themselves worth to stand in the line of battle, and by doing so they have proven themselves heroes all.
Traits: Average to Good Offense, Poor to Good Defense; Poor to Average Equipment; Good to Great Morale.
--900 Gnoblar Infantry
Description: Not much to look at, they're somewhere between Slaverat and Clanrat levels of skill, but also are smaller and not highly motivated
Traits: Poor Attack; Very Poor Defense; Decent Training; Poor Morale
--300 Gnoblar Herders
Description: Gnoblars with skill at herding Rhinoxen, this includes scouting ability, a sneaky understanding of the odds of certain death, and skill with a sling and stones!
Traits: Average Attack; Nonexistent Defense; Poor Training; Average Morale
--250 Gnoblar Helpers
Descriptions: Used to being mobile weapons or snacks or servants to Ogres, they know how to run through lines with supplies, how to carry goods, and can serve as packmules of sorts… if not very strong ones.
Traits: Noncombat, Logistics Aid, Ogres+
--100 Gnoblar Rhinoxen Dancers
Description: Those who are used to dancing and running on top of Rhinoxen and fighting on top of them, good at throwing things, especially spears, they… lack Rhinoxen, and thus fight dismounted most of all.
Traits: Rider Without A Horse; Good Spear Thrower; Basically No Defense
--800 Night Goblins
Description: The Average night-goblin. Not very brave, not very strong, but there are plenty of them.
Traits: Poor Attack; Very Very Poor Defense; Hates Dwarfs; Fears Elves; Hates the Sun
--100 Poison-Blades
Description: In the coming of the revolution, some of the Night Goblins made weapons covered in strange poisons indeed, and drugged themselves to boot. They died in great numbers, but built a tradition.
Traits: Average Attack (Good With Poison); Very Poor Defense; Drugged And Angry; Great Morale; Remember that bit about Hating Dwarfs, Fearing Elves, and Hating the Sun? Also Still Applies.
--200 Night Goblin Addicts
Descriptions: Fervent Night Goblins with an enjoyment of the good stuff, they lack the obsession with poison of their comrades but throw themselves into battle with the ferocity of an Orc. In some ways they take the place of the Fanatics, for while death is almost certain if they actually fight it's not completely certain the way it would for the Fanatics.
Traits: Good Attack; Nonexistent Defense; Drugged and VERY Angry; Too Drugged to Hate Anyone in Particular Rather Than Everyone; Except the Sun, They Still Hate That; Morale ???
--150 Squig Hoppers
Description: Squig Hoppers without Squigs, what a tragedy. They ride and hop around on the top of Squigs, though the Squigs don't always like that. Unlike Rhinoxen, there are at least some Squigs still left to ride on.
Trait: Cavalry!; Good Attack; ??? Defense; Wild Abandon
--??? Squigs!
Description: Stampede!
Trait: Stampede!
--200 Da Boyz
Description: Armed with spears, axes, swords, or anything they can get their hands on, these are battle hardened and surprisingly well-motivated. All of them have had a very proppa scrap indeed.
Traits: ???, Good Offense, Average Defense; Poor Equipment; Good Morale
--50 Arrey Boys
Description: Those who are archers, they have dedicated themselves to the craft and… have wound up pretty good, really. Of course, with wood in such low supply they've taken to just stabbing people with arrows. But apparently the Fire Dwarfs have some way to make bolts and the like that don't rely on wood. Or do they? Well, they have crossbows on top of more advanced tech, so apparently?
Traits: Low on Wood; Very Good Shots; ???
--25 Drill Boyz
Description: The Warpstone drills inspired some of the Orcs, and they have… absconded with some of them. These drills have only so much warpstone fuel, and the fact that they're made of warpstone is rather odd, at least to some. But it means they can… er. Drill through people. A lot. They're testing it on walls and stuffed dummies.
Traits: ??? Attack; ??? Defense; Poor Armor, highly expensive Drill, Drill can explode in the wrong conditions, ???
--50 Scouty Boyz
Description: Orcs that know how to sneak around a little, Cunning Brutality, going on ahead to attack the enemy ahead of time, and report back what they hear.
Traits: ???, Good Attack, Average Defense; Great Morale
--100 Big Un's
Description: A surprising number of Orcs have gotten big and strong off the 'diet' of revolutionary violence. It's kinda scary, but makes them very impressive.
Traits: Great Attack; Great Defense; Poor Equipment; Great Morale; ???; ???
--25 Leaderz
Description: Among all the different types of Boyz, the most effective of them have already risen towards the top, and then they and others fought!
Traits: ???; A Collection of Sub-Hero Units!
--225 Ogre Bulls
Description: Despite the name, this includes female Ogres as well, and are the 'basic' unit of an Ogre army. Strong, vicious, brutish, if not always smart Ogres, they're usually all or almost all male, but needs drive and all of that.
Traits: Not So Bright; Doesn't Take Orders Well; Deadly Charge; Great Attack; Great Defense; Average Morale; Very Poor Equipment
--75 Ironguts
Description: The better-trained and better armored of the Ogres, there's actually a surprising number of Female Ogres within this category.
Traits: Not So Bright; Takes Orders Rather Poorly; Deadly Charge; Great Attack; Great Defense; Good Morale; Poor Equipment
--200 Maneaters
Description: Maneaters as they are called are the core and most experienced Ogrish mercenaries out there. Some are skilled in swords, some in handguns… though they lack any of those right now. These are the mercenary core that took charge.
Trait: A Grab-Bag; Takes Orders Almost Well; Deadly Charge; Great Attack; Amazing Defense; Good Morale; Needs Better Equipment
--25 Leadbelchers Without Profile
Description: Oh what a miserable thing it is, to see a Leadbelcher without a cannon. But that's what they are!
Trait: Morale Terrible; Attack ???; Defense ???
--25 Hunters
Description: Hunters are vicious brutes indeed, but very useful ones, festooned with the parts of those they hunt, both animals and otherwise, and skilled in both the use of Harpoons and the training of animals to fight for him, and they're all but one male. Unfortunately, the Sabertusks are all dead, and there's perhaps a dozen harpoon launchers between them.
Traits: Hunting Skilled; Training Skilled; Under-equipped; Great Attack; Good Defense; Packmaster Without A Pack
--25 Bruisers
Description: Bruisers are the 'leaders' of the Ogres, the strongest and toughest, at least in theory, though the Maneaters in many ways have them beat.
Traits: Leadership Skills… sorta; Great Attack; Great Defense.
--??? Elves
Description: They fought, and fought well, but they're not really organized. They simply said that if the time comes, they'd be available. Which is hardly an answer, but Rupert could not at this stage get more than that.
Traits: ???
--50 Fire Dwarf Warriors
Description: Well-trained if arrogant warriors, these dwarves pack a mean punch and tend to fight with axes or whatever works, and sometimes Blunderbusses.
Traits: Good Attack; Good Defense, want better defense; Good Morale; Arrogant; Do Not Take Orders Easily; Bad Equipment
--10 Fire Dwarf Heroes
Description: The most experienced and well-trained of the Fire Dwarves in the health and mood for combat, they cut a fearsome figure.
Trait: Great Attack; Good Defense; Bad Equipment; Great Morale; Arrogant; Doesn't Take Orders
--??? Mountain Dwarf Warriors
Description: They simply said that if the time comes and the oaths are called upon, they will use their strength and skills as they see best. In the Dwarf Quarters there is the sound of banging hammers and the muttering of Dwarfs.
Traits: ???
--50 Halfling Militia
Description: Of decent quality and oddly fierce… if they get a good meal in them. But they're also part of the farmers.
Traits: Good Meal=Good Fighting; Economically Important; Average Defense; Average Attack; Poor Equipment; Average Morale
--50 Halfling "Battle" Cooks
Description: Nothing of the sort, but they think that having Halfling cooks along if it's a fight will help keep the morale of the men up.
Traits: Morale Boosting; Helps Assuage Ogre Hunger; Logistics++
--75 Lizardmen
Description: In the revolt they fought in a well-organized unit, with scouts, the Kroxigor serving as the heavy arm, and other skinks simply part of the battle line.
Traits: ???; Good to Great Offense; Good to Great Defense; ???; Poor Equipment; ???
--The Dragons?
Description: Agreements about whether they'd help out in a fight were… less than forthcoming.
Description: Not all Slaverats are meant to be thrust out into battle as a first resort. There are those deemed most useful to be worked to death in the mines, or worked to death in the furnaces, or worked to death doing simple assembly work, or worked to death as slaves, or… a lot of working to death. But then there were those who were deemed mostly useful as troops. They were given almost no training and poor weapons and thrust out there.
Traits: Very Poor to Poor Attack; Very Poor to Poor Defense; Very Poor to Poor Morale; Very Poor Equipment; Eager For Revolution; Some Training
--4000 'Militia Slaverats
Description: All the rest of the Slaverats. Technically they're able to be used in a fight, but if they're running into battle something has gone wrong because they're not actually primarily fighters and have actual jobs to do.
Trait: Very Poor Attack; Very Poor Defense; Very Poor Morale; Very Poor Equipment; No Training; Economically Necessary
--700 Clanrat Soldiers
Description: The Clanrats that are most attached or connected to battle, these represent the average soldier, and have at least some training and equipment. Usually.
Traits: Poor to Average Attack; Poor Defense; Poor to Average Morale; Poor Equipment; Moderate Training
--500 Clanrat Militia
Description: Even less useful in war than Slaverats, and no less replaceable, these are the clerks, forge-workers, a few forge-overseers that switched sides, and so on.
Traits: If You Send Them to Battle, Ow
--75 Stormverin
Description: Stormvermin are the Elite of the Elite among Skaven soldiers, these heavy infantry are well-equipped and well-trained, as far as such things go.
Traits Good to Great Attack; Good Defense; Average to Good Morale; Average to Good Equipment; Good Training; Elite Arrogant
--3 Rat Swarm Managers
Description: These stranger 'pipers' of sorts seem to still possess the ability to gather and draw rat swarms, whether to use them to spy on an area or attack in vast swarms.
Traits; No Attack; Can Summon and Gather Rat Swarms?; Average Morale
--50 "Weapons Teams" Members
Description: Those with experience either making or maintaining the technologies bought from Clan Skyre, or in using them, these are experts without portfolio at the moment. An inflex of Warpstone Jezzails, Ratling Guns, and more could have them as the core of a training cadre to bring to life all sorts of new teams.
--800 Assorted Man-Thing Mercenaries
Description: Between those who were mercenaries, and those who have been trained and found themselves quite worthy in the aftermath, half of the population is ready and able to fight. Their losses would be a tragedy, but men and women, the young and old, have proven themselves worth to stand in the line of battle, and by doing so they have proven themselves heroes all.
Traits: Average to Good Offense, Poor to Good Defense; Poor to Average Equipment; Good to Great Morale.
--900 Gnoblar Infantry
Description: Not much to look at, they're somewhere between Slaverat and Clanrat levels of skill, but also are smaller and not highly motivated
Traits: Poor Attack; Very Poor Defense; Decent Training; Poor Morale
--300 Gnoblar Herders
Description: Gnoblars with skill at herding Rhinoxen, this includes scouting ability, a sneaky understanding of the odds of certain death, and skill with a sling and stones!
Traits: Average Attack; Nonexistent Defense; Poor Training; Average Morale
--250 Gnoblar Helpers
Descriptions: Used to being mobile weapons or snacks or servants to Ogres, they know how to run through lines with supplies, how to carry goods, and can serve as packmules of sorts… if not very strong ones.
Traits: Noncombat, Logistics Aid, Ogres+
--100 Gnoblar Rhinoxen Dancers
Description: Those who are used to dancing and running on top of Rhinoxen and fighting on top of them, good at throwing things, especially spears, they… lack Rhinoxen, and thus fight dismounted most of all.
Traits: Rider Without A Horse; Good Spear Thrower; Basically No Defense
--800 Night Goblins
Description: The Average night-goblin. Not very brave, not very strong, but there are plenty of them.
Traits: Poor Attack; Very Very Poor Defense; Hates Dwarfs; Fears Elves; Hates the Sun
--100 Poison-Blades
Description: In the coming of the revolution, some of the Night Goblins made weapons covered in strange poisons indeed, and drugged themselves to boot. They died in great numbers, but built a tradition.
Traits: Average Attack (Good With Poison); Very Poor Defense; Drugged And Angry; Great Morale; Remember that bit about Hating Dwarfs, Fearing Elves, and Hating the Sun? Also Still Applies.
--200 Night Goblin Addicts
Descriptions: Fervent Night Goblins with an enjoyment of the good stuff, they lack the obsession with poison of their comrades but throw themselves into battle with the ferocity of an Orc. In some ways they take the place of the Fanatics, for while death is almost certain if they actually fight it's not completely certain the way it would for the Fanatics.
Traits: Good Attack; Nonexistent Defense; Drugged and VERY Angry; Too Drugged to Hate Anyone in Particular Rather Than Everyone; Except the Sun, They Still Hate That; Morale ???
--150 Squig Hoppers
Description: Squig Hoppers without Squigs, what a tragedy. They ride and hop around on the top of Squigs, though the Squigs don't always like that. Unlike Rhinoxen, there are at least some Squigs still left to ride on.
Trait: Cavalry!; Good Attack; ??? Defense; Wild Abandon
--??? Squigs!
Description: Stampede!
Trait: Stampede!
--200 Da Boyz
Description: Armed with spears, axes, swords, or anything they can get their hands on, these are battle hardened and surprisingly well-motivated. All of them have had a very proppa scrap indeed.
Traits: ???, Good Offense, Average Defense; Poor Equipment; Good Morale
--50 Arrey Boys
Description: Those who are archers, they have dedicated themselves to the craft and… have wound up pretty good, really. Of course, with wood in such low supply they've taken to just stabbing people with arrows. But apparently the Fire Dwarfs have some way to make bolts and the like that don't rely on wood. Or do they? Well, they have crossbows on top of more advanced tech, so apparently?
Traits: Low on Wood; Very Good Shots; ???
--25 Drill Boyz
Description: The Warpstone drills inspired some of the Orcs, and they have… absconded with some of them. These drills have only so much warpstone fuel, and the fact that they're made of warpstone is rather odd, at least to some. But it means they can… er. Drill through people. A lot. They're testing it on walls and stuffed dummies.
Traits: ??? Attack; ??? Defense; Poor Armor, highly expensive Drill, Drill can explode in the wrong conditions, ???
--50 Scouty Boyz
Description: Orcs that know how to sneak around a little, Cunning Brutality, going on ahead to attack the enemy ahead of time, and report back what they hear.
Traits: ???, Good Attack, Average Defense; Great Morale
--100 Big Un's
Description: A surprising number of Orcs have gotten big and strong off the 'diet' of revolutionary violence. It's kinda scary, but makes them very impressive.
Traits: Great Attack; Great Defense; Poor Equipment; Great Morale; ???; ???
--25 Leaderz
Description: Among all the different types of Boyz, the most effective of them have already risen towards the top, and then they and others fought!
Traits: ???; A Collection of Sub-Hero Units!
--225 Ogre Bulls
Description: Despite the name, this includes female Ogres as well, and are the 'basic' unit of an Ogre army. Strong, vicious, brutish, if not always smart Ogres, they're usually all or almost all male, but needs drive and all of that.
Traits: Not So Bright; Doesn't Take Orders Well; Deadly Charge; Great Attack; Great Defense; Average Morale; Very Poor Equipment
--75 Ironguts
Description: The better-trained and better armored of the Ogres, there's actually a surprising number of Female Ogres within this category.
Traits: Not So Bright; Takes Orders Rather Poorly; Deadly Charge; Great Attack; Great Defense; Good Morale; Poor Equipment
--200 Maneaters
Description: Maneaters as they are called are the core and most experienced Ogrish mercenaries out there. Some are skilled in swords, some in handguns… though they lack any of those right now. These are the mercenary core that took charge.
Trait: A Grab-Bag; Takes Orders Almost Well; Deadly Charge; Great Attack; Amazing Defense; Good Morale; Needs Better Equipment
--25 Leadbelchers Without Profile
Description: Oh what a miserable thing it is, to see a Leadbelcher without a cannon. But that's what they are!
Trait: Morale Terrible; Attack ???; Defense ???
--25 Hunters
Description: Hunters are vicious brutes indeed, but very useful ones, festooned with the parts of those they hunt, both animals and otherwise, and skilled in both the use of Harpoons and the training of animals to fight for him, and they're all but one male. Unfortunately, the Sabertusks are all dead, and there's perhaps a dozen harpoon launchers between them.
Traits: Hunting Skilled; Training Skilled; Under-equipped; Great Attack; Good Defense; Packmaster Without A Pack
--25 Bruisers
Description: Bruisers are the 'leaders' of the Ogres, the strongest and toughest, at least in theory, though the Maneaters in many ways have them beat.
Traits: Leadership Skills… sorta; Great Attack; Great Defense.
--??? Elves
Description: They fought, and fought well, but they're not really organized. They simply said that if the time comes, they'd be available. Which is hardly an answer, but Rupert could not at this stage get more than that.
Traits: ???
--50 Fire Dwarf Warriors
Description: Well-trained if arrogant warriors, these dwarves pack a mean punch and tend to fight with axes or whatever works, and sometimes Blunderbusses.
Traits: Good Attack; Good Defense, want better defense; Good Morale; Arrogant; Do Not Take Orders Easily; Bad Equipment
--10 Fire Dwarf Heroes
Description: The most experienced and well-trained of the Fire Dwarves in the health and mood for combat, they cut a fearsome figure.
Trait: Great Attack; Good Defense; Bad Equipment; Great Morale; Arrogant; Doesn't Take Orders
--??? Mountain Dwarf Warriors
Description: They simply said that if the time comes and the oaths are called upon, they will use their strength and skills as they see best. In the Dwarf Quarters there is the sound of banging hammers and the muttering of Dwarfs.
Traits: ???
--50 Halfling Militia
Description: Of decent quality and oddly fierce… if they get a good meal in them. But they're also part of the farmers.
Traits: Good Meal=Good Fighting; Economically Important; Average Defense; Average Attack; Poor Equipment; Average Morale
--50 Halfling "Battle" Cooks
Description: Nothing of the sort, but they think that having Halfling cooks along if it's a fight will help keep the morale of the men up.
Traits: Morale Boosting; Helps Assuage Ogre Hunger; Logistics++
--75 Lizardmen
Description: In the revolt they fought in a well-organized unit, with scouts, the Kroxigor serving as the heavy arm, and other skinks simply part of the battle line.
Traits: ???; Good to Great Offense; Good to Great Defense; ???; Poor Equipment; ???
--The Dragons?
Description: Agreements about whether they'd help out in a fight were… less than forthcoming.
Bringing the Storm
[] [Martial] Bringing The Storm: The Stormvermin mostly either fled with their lords or died, but nearly two dozen did not. What should be done with them? They're too few to become an elite unit, but should they become trainers? Sergeants amid less-trained rats? Bodyguards? Stat (s): Martial, DC: Automatic, Traits: (Skaven)
–[] Feresh Longtail
1d100+12 (Martial)+5 (Skaven Chosen For Task)=1d100+17 vs. DC (Automatic), roll for vibes=82
–[] Feresh Longtail
1d100+12 (Martial)+5 (Skaven Chosen For Task)=1d100+17 vs. DC (Automatic), roll for vibes=82
The Stormvermin were proud to be addressed by someone who almost might be their equal. F'eresh for his part was glad to be included on such an important task. He resented Andratse's status, but if she was recognizing his obvious abilities, then surely she could not be so bad.
The Stormvermin were eager for a fight, and skeptical of the idea of training… but willing to hear it out. But of course, what did the Council want of them, anyways? They could not know. They'd voted, but their candidate had not won and others had voted and spread their votes at random, including a few for Andratse.
The bulk of the Stormvermin Should…
[] [Stormvermin] Serve as a training cadre! While it is true that they have no particular skill or patience for training, they do have skills they can pass on.
[] [Stormvermin] Be an elite force. While seventy-five isn't many, they can--especially if they are willing to lower themselves to new recruits--serve as an elite shock troop to be sent in at the right moment.
[] [Stormvermin] Serve as bodyguards and seconds to prominent units. Protecting them from harm and joining them if they wish to get into the thick of it, providing extra security and power to such Hero units… those that accept Stormvermin bodyguards, that is.
Hunting Parties
The Dark Lands were a hungry land, and a miserable one. The rain was acid, the sky darkened constantly with clouds, and when the sun pierced through it seemed strange and thin. Argrush certainly missed Far-Cathay--he didn't know why it was called that, din't seem that far, really, you just kept on walkin' and eventually the people'd speak different--but even the Man-thing Empire, as the Skaven called it, was a lot better lookin' than this.
Argrush was hungry, but less hungry than he was used to being. It was more the hungry of needin' to pack back on a few dozen pounds. He din't know why that was the case either, but he wasn't going to look no Gift Goblin in the guts: you just got to eatin', and if it was bad you'd deal with it later.
Not that he was allowed to eat Gobbo anymore, and he didn't miss it that much. A few of those Gobbos were around, the Gnoblars that was, and then there was a dozen hunters, and his trusted mercs, the boys and girls he'd fought with.
Girls, well, see, some of 'em wanted to see the world and eat large parts of it too, and he hadn't minded.
Thirty Ogres, twenty or so Gobbos, 40 Orcs, two dozen humans, both 'hunters' and 'fighters', twenty or so Skaven that were there to help haul stuff and so on, five Halflings that wanted to collect grass and figure out what was edible…
It was a lot, really. Nearly one-fifty was a bit too big, really, barely enough for them all to count with their fingers and toes. And also too big to catch the most sneaky beasts. No, those sorts 'eard 'em coming. But others heard 'em coming and thought they were a snack, and so after a day and a half of hunting, includin' some good 'unting at night when the monsters thought they were vulnerable, their packs and bags were almost two-thirds full. Could be better, could be worse, but enough food to feed his Ogres for a week or two, and the Dragon, and plenty of Man-Things or Manlings or Humies or whatever they wanted to call themselves, and even Skaven.
Maybe they'd go on another hunt at the end of the month, now that they were gettin' used to it.
He scratched his belly and held in a belch, waiting until the human had passed in front of him on his way to scout the edge of the grouping before letting it out.
The human swayed in the wind anyways. Twiggy little things, if not as twiggy as an elf.
And then he heard it. Fighting. Just over a rise. "Hey," he said, turning to the human. "Go check that out." He might have garbled it, as a huge Ogre missing several teeth might, but the human frowned and nodded.
He came back not long after, "There's a huge Caravan, and it's being attacked by what looks like a thousand Orcs! A whole band."
"Damn," Iznos said. "Must be dat time'a year, den. Tribes always raiding around when the big fights groups come, fulla loot."
A Skaven chittered in stress, but Agrush was considering it. "Thousand, you say?"
"Yes, there's too many, we need to--"
"Charge their line. We can take 'em," Agrush said.
"W-what? We need to pick them off, and--"
"Charge 'em. Big ol' wedge, shove through 'em the whole way. You're gonna see why I'm called Linebreaker. Whole squad of Imperials, dat lot, dey just turn and run. Orcs are stronger but did any of 'em look black?"
"N-no," the human said.
Honestly, if they'd been Black Orcs, Argrush wouldda said to just turn right around and leave 'em to die. A thousand Black Orcs was a fuggin' army and he wouldn't fight them without at least equal numbers.
But regular Orcs. Green and mean and many of 'em not ready for an Ogre-Orc charge?
"You ready to do 'dis?" Agrush asked, turning to Iznos.
Iznos nodded, frowning thoughtfully. "We should come down the hill and hit 'em at an angle. If'n there's foighting they'll not see it coming."
"We should go right with you and then behind you, yes-yes. We follow-break through where you do, then turn-cut into those that would hit you in the back-neck," one of the Skaven declared, boldly. He doesn't remember what the Skaven's name was, but he thinks it's female. But Skaven are a little like Orcs: half the time they just don't differentiate at all.
Though at least Skaven sometimes have a word for it, unlike Orcs.
Better get ready for the charge.
****
The Orcs don't hear them coming. Until, of course, they do. Argrush Chimeraeater Linebreaker Cannonball Catcher the Huge will not be charging an enemy line silent, and the Orcs are screaming WAAGH and so are some of the humans, just because everyone's yelling. The Skaven and Humans and Gobbos all seem to be keeping up, almost, falling behind but not so much they'd be left behind as they raced right for the center-right of the Orcish formation. The Greenskins were bunched up, pushing and shoving at each other while fighting the hundreds of outmatched caravan guards.
Hundreds, or something, he couldn't quite count and he was too bush as he hit the line and his huge greatsword went flashing in one hand while in the other a heavy maul slammed down onto another head. 'e'd lost his real good swords and weapons when he was enslaved, but he'd built some good ones for this, and a good gutplate and decent armor elsewhere, and so the Orcs falling beneath his charge didn't even scratch his skin. They were so close together that one swing could down two or three, and he eventually had to turn towards the front of the formation lest he just keep on running out into the open. The charge was not even being slowed a little.
The Orcs were melting away, and he felt it wasn't one of those clever Human things where they melted away from the charge and then started shooting him in the backs. Humans had tried it once, and then he'd caught their cannonballs and thrown them back and the human's had left their own "Musk of Fear" all over the ground at that.
A fond memory, but not one he could indulge now. He slammed and pushed and shoved and the Orc formation just… collapsed. It wasn't just him of course, there was a wedge of Ogres and Orcs trampling all beneath them. And then Iznoz turned, heading to back up those fighting the Orcs 'behind' him.
But Agrush was not done. Not even close. He had someone he was going to.
The Orc in charge was huge, about the same size as Iznoz, and dressed in rough but very heavy armor and wielding what looked like a huge axe on a pole. "Who da fuck are you?!" the Orc grunted, stepping forward towards him. "Foight me, Ogre!"
"Go around em!" Agrush bellowed, and all obeyed without even thinking. "I'll git em!" He belched once more, this time in challenge, and scratched at his gut plate. Yes, it was ready. There was no backup, just Agrush and the Orc.
The Warboss grunted once more and swung.
Agrush was faster, and lifted the Orc off his feet and hurtled him down to the ground. The Orc stood up, and this time Agrush charged after him with his weapons ready. His sword slammed down to prevent the Orc from blocking and then the hammer shattered the Orc's other shoulder.
"Oi!" the Warboss screamed, and headbutt him. Agrush staggered back but brought the sword up to slash at the other arm. He severed enough tendons that the death-blow the Warboss might have gotten towards his chest instead just tore a huge chunk out of his side, a gash thick and painful but not so big a deal.
He slammed the maul down again, and then dodged the next blow, letting it skitter off the armor over his upper arm, and continued to pound the Orc Warboss into nothing. By the end of it he's panting, and rather exhausted, but nobody's attacking him.
When he turns, he sees why. The Humans and Skaven and everyone else have done well. Dozens and dozens and dozens of Orcs have died with wounds that certainly weren't Ogres or Orcs, and only a few of them are down, and none of them have stopped movin', so maybe they'll be able to be saved.
There's a few hundred Orcs left, and Iznoz is… talkin' to them.
Agrush is, honestly, both tired, hungry and curious. Most of the Orcs other than the ones gettin' talked to are dead. Already some of the humans are going, with raised hands, to talk to the Caravan, as are the Skaven. A few have run off to tell Crookback, because he remembers they all agreed they wanted to talk to a Caravan, and here's a Caravan, a half a day or so away.
But they can figure all that stuff out. He limped over to listen.
"An' so youze got a choice," Iznoz declared. "We've started the Piebald 'Public, buncha species all livin' together, fighting the whole Darklands together. We ain't lacking for fights already, an' all of us workin' together are making a WAAGH that'll burn down za world, boyz! Just a few rules: no Krumpin' each other or any of the others. Beat the shit out of each other, but killin's for the enemies. An' we foit who the whole Republic decides to Fight." He grinned as a few stepped forward. "If you come at me with weapons I'll kill you with weapons, if you come at me with fists I'll know you bastards down!" he yelled, knocking out one of the challengers in a single, almost absent-minded, punch.
"We're led by Andratse, an' he's a Skaven who beat one'a their Warlords by kicking him so hard he fell over. An' by me. An' by that Ogre over there that just made your boss look like a snotling."
Argrush didn't bother to correct Iznoz about anything. The wound wasn't much, it was true, but it could have been worse. But what Waagh is there when an outnumbered force crushes yours?
In the end, almost all the Orcs signed up, grumbling even as some of them did.
[] [Martial] Hunting Parties: One of the daily evils of the old government was sending slaves armed with cheap weapons or nothing at all to hunt animals. The desperate and strong caught the strange and horrible beasts of the wilderness, and the weak died and thus did not need to be fed, and so it was a net of meat. But with a dragon now demanding bits of Chimera and a population of Ogres very, very hungry… perhaps it's time to do so with better weapons. Stat(s) Martial, DC: Variable, Traits: (General) (Dangerous), Result
–[] (Primary) Argrush
–[] (Secondary) Iznos
1d100+9 (Argrush Martial)+7 (Half Iznos Martial)+5 (I Hunger!)=1d100+21=56
Trouble?: 1d100=71, opportunity
Argrush Charge: 1d100+23 (Average PC of chargers)+9 (Argrush Martial)+7 (Half Iznos Martial) +10 (Linebreaker)-5 (Outnumbered)=143
Killing The Warboss: 1d100+28 (Argrush PC)+20 (Total Collapse of Orcish Forces)=106 (DC 50/75/100/120)
Non-Ogre/Orc Perfomance Evaluation: 1d100=90, incredibly well
Recruitin' Remaining Boyz: 1d100+30 (Totally Broken)+25 (Those Humies and Skaven…)+20 (Krumped the Boss)=147
Caravan Size: 1d10+5=11
–[] (Primary) Argrush
–[] (Secondary) Iznos
1d100+9 (Argrush Martial)+7 (Half Iznos Martial)+5 (I Hunger!)=1d100+21=56
Trouble?: 1d100=71, opportunity
Argrush Charge: 1d100+23 (Average PC of chargers)+9 (Argrush Martial)+7 (Half Iznos Martial) +10 (Linebreaker)-5 (Outnumbered)=143
Killing The Warboss: 1d100+28 (Argrush PC)+20 (Total Collapse of Orcish Forces)=106 (DC 50/75/100/120)
Non-Ogre/Orc Perfomance Evaluation: 1d100=90, incredibly well
Recruitin' Remaining Boyz: 1d100+30 (Totally Broken)+25 (Those Humies and Skaven…)+20 (Krumped the Boss)=147
Caravan Size: 1d10+5=11
*****
Diplomacy
Merchants
[] [Diplomacy] Merchants: Passing Merchants are already aware that if they pass through there is a high chance to be forced to pay a toll. People came because it was better than the alternatives, and losing some is better than losing all. Apparently in the last year or so Clan Rictus suddenly went from 'taxes' of Half or maybe two-thirds to almost all. It is time to tell merchants that this has changed... carefully. Stat(s): Diplomacy, DC: Variable, Traits: (Manling), Results: Talk to trading caravans and more... see what happens.
--[] (Primary) Chittertongue the "Aledancer."
--[] (Secondary) Baruk Earwing
1d100+18 (Diplomacy)+5 (Manytongued)+7 (Half Earwing diplomacy)+5 (The Hunting Boon)=104
--[] (Primary) Chittertongue the "Aledancer."
--[] (Secondary) Baruk Earwing
1d100+18 (Diplomacy)+5 (Manytongued)+7 (Half Earwing diplomacy)+5 (The Hunting Boon)=104
Conrad Schricker was in his thirties, and had thought that he was beginning his ascent up the ranks. There were about a half-dozen yearly major caravans between the Empire and Cathay, each of them on what ultimately turned into a two year trip (at least) in which great profits could be obtained or total ruin could follow. Some of these failed, some succeeded, and a success didn't have to be large to fund another attempt. Which meant that in all nearly a thousand people, half of them serving as guards, took part in his expedition.
The way it worked was simple: Far Cathay was not lacking in so many goods, and so you had to choose a balance of goods they would value enough to trade it for things like silk and irreplaceable artifacts, things that to Cathay were merely expensive rather than nearly priceless.
Before three years ago, you then went past the Skaven and paid out half your bounty right there. The secret, Conrad knew, was very simple: half of the goods were things like food and weapons, wood and gunpowder and other things. The Skaven of Crookback Mountain took half of all goods, not half of all value, especially when they saw little value in strange paintings or books with intentionally dull covers meant to trick the flighty Skaven mind.
Oh, of course the Skaven didn't exist. There was a Conspiracy of Silence, and that meant that you lied in the reports about "bribes for Beastmen" and if any merchant declared there was no need for such bribes for mere Beastmen, you began preparing to buy up his businesses and seduce his wife once he inevitably went missing.
Oh, Conrad hadn't done that per se, but his mother had been the widow of such a stupid merchant.
But now in the last three years, it'd been four in five, or even nine in ten, and so even more care was needed to create things of great value but little worth to Skaven. Even so, the trade was halfway dying.
The Skaven were strangling their own profits.
But not entirely. And so he went with his half-a-thousand guards and trained protectors.
And then within a single hour a hundred of them died and it seemed as if the Greenskins would simply destroy the Caravan.
Which is when he was saved, and when he heard the impossible tale--from Ogres, from Orcs, from Humans too--of a new Republic. He didn't know just what that truly meant, was it something like Marienburg? He didn't know. He stroked his beard and listened to the words. But he knew that even if they were lies and he was being prepared for the slaughter, there was nothing he could do. He could not possibly move fast enough to be unnoticed by the Skaven.
Small merchant groups sometimes could try, and once in a while they succeeded.
But his caravan? If he refused and tried to run, his horses would just die tired.
Less than a hundred and fifty of them had, with just a handful of losses, seen off a thousand Orcs… or recruited some of them.
So he choked on the ash and he allowed himself to be moved forward.
Hopefully, they weren't going to demand all of it; hopefully whatever this "Republic" was would be reasonable.
All of this led to the next morning, when a party came… led by a Skaven.
The sun was beating down fiercely, and this Skaven was dressed in… what looked like a dress, until he realized it was, sort of, but turned into the sort of gown a self-important old man might wear, black and white, almost painfully drab and yet also absurd. The Skaven looked like any Skaven he'd seen, though he smelled of way too much soap, as if someone had used a dozen bars of soap in the bath. Of course, compared to what Skaven usually smelled like, this was not so bad.
"Greetings-salutations, I am Chittertongue, an Envoy and Council-Member of the Piebald Republic, yes-yes," the Skaven said, flanked on both sides by armed Skaven as he stepped forward. "Very pleased-happy to meet you." He held out a hand, and reluctantly Conrad took it.
"What is this Piebald Republic?"
"It is a government-people, in which each race-people elects fairly representatives-councilors, and together they decide-deliberate for the good-betterment of all," Chittertongue said. "So we wish to establish-change our behavior-actions towards merchants-traders. Yes-yes, we wish to reduce costs-fees down to one-fifth, and perhaps less, and trade-bargain with merchants to buy-barter for their goods." Chittertongue looked proud and looked around. "This is a rich convoy, yes-yes, and we will do good business. The Piebald Republic does not break its agreements, yes-yes."
"How long has this Republic existed…?"
"Two weeks ago we held our first meeting-conference, but the revolution-revolt happened nearly two months ago. The Horned Rat is dead, long live-prosper the Republic!" He began chittering excitedly, and then turned to look back up at Conrad.
"You say you want to trade? What do you need. As many as I lost this day, if there really is an opportunity here…"
Conrad trailed off, a dread surmise coming to him. It was a silly idea in a way, dangerous in all sorts of manners, but there was usually a month or three built into the timeline, if not more. And the truth was, they had made good time through the pass. He was now imagining what profits he could make if he, instead of going to Cathay, tried to see just what could be traded here. It would be a way to stand out: yes, if he made three or four good Cathay runs he could retire richer than ever, but he'd be just another one of the experienced Cathay-Runners in the Empire.
But if he opened up an entirely new market…
It was a risk. If this was an elaborate trap to get slaves… well, he could send runners out with some guards, and report that if they didn't hear back in so long, it was to be assumed the whole route would be doomed.
"How would you feel if we stayed at your Republic for a few months, trading, before moving on?"
"This would be very great-good, yes-yes."
Conrad saw the eagerness, and wondered what its cause was.
But he also knew there was a chance here. And he liked his odds.
Merchant Dealings…
When word gets back of the Piebald Republic, what is reported as what they want most in trade goods? This does not mean that there won't be other goods, but this is what will be on everyone's lips! (Choose 3)
[] [Goods] Food: While there is a drive to be at least somewhat self-sufficient, it is going to be a difficult task indeed. But of course, this reveals a lot to the world, and there are some that think that if they're always reliant on food from outside they'll never have security.
[] [Goods] Gunpowder: It is possible to make at home, of course, but in the short and medium term there might be all sorts of things where it is far easier to buy gunpowder than make it to use.
[] [Goods] Information: That strangest of currency, but news and stories of what is happening in the Empire, in Tilea, and more is worth not just its weight in gold--which would be nothing--but everyone's weight in gold.
[] [Goods] Magical Artifacts: One of the trickier things to price and even trickier to acquire, but they remain one of the tools that can help give the Piebald Republic an edge.
[] [Goods] Finished Weapons: The other end of things is that muskets and pistols and more are difficult and finnicky things to make, and being able to buy them by the hundreds would certainly help out the cause.
[] [Goods] Wood and Paper: It is a difficult one indeed, and the same arguments that go for the reliance on outside food go for wood and paper, but there are plenty of tools and use-cases for having more paper, and it should be relatively cheap except in bulk.
[] [Goods] Mercenaries: Not a usual request, but passing the word along about an employer who is willing to forgive many things and accept many things could be valuable… maybe. It would certainly be a risk.
[] [Goods] Books: Whether on magic or on the world, or even just stories, books are both a good source of knowledge, spare paper if processed, and also fiber!
[] [Goods] Seeds: Yes, everyone says that nothing grows in the Dark Lands, but a few things did grow… or so it seems? Perhaps you should at least give it a try.
[] [Goods] Animals: Rather than food, what the Republic needs is ways to grow food. Hopefully in the long term Squigs and Rhinoxen can be a major source of protein, but adding pigs and chickens and perhaps even seeing if there's a way to get cows grass that won't kill them could help.
[] [Goods] Water: Even harder to transport, and something one should rely on outside sources for even less… but at the moment extra water for the next year or so might well be a desperate need. Yet on the gripping tail, the proverb about selling water in the desert comes to mind.
[] [Goods] Tools: A loom, a hammer, the little things that help you make more things. But of course, quality is not always guaranteed.
[] [Goods] Write-in, subject to veto.
What major message is also sent back over time? (Choose 1)
[] [Message] Immigration wanted! Willing to accept anyone of any Race as long as they agree to obey the laws. Come in, whether mercs looking to settle down or refugees from tyranny and oppression. Something something lamp light the golden door…
[] [Message] We have a lot of gold and treasure and wealth, and so we'll pay top coin for anything and everything. We're open for business!
[] [Message] The Horned Rat is dead, and we… or someone, have killed him! The end of the Under-Empire is upon us! The old world is dying, and the new world struggles to be born!
[] [Message] Trading is nice and all, but all Empires should burn, and all thrones should topple in the long-run, just putting that out there, not an immediate concern but down with Chaos and down with tyranny. Thank you, have a nice day.
[-] Change da world, my first message, goodbye. (Not an option, just wanted to make that joke.)
[] [Message] Write-in, subject to veto.
As for the 20% Tariff, what are the two categories that are most picked-through for the 20% (Choose 2)
[] [Tariff] Food: It is ingenious, in a way: the cost for them to stay here in food can be paid for in large part by their own supply of goods and then some. Of course, this profits you the least, but is quite practical.
[] [Tariff] Weapons: The common 'taking' from the caravans, weapons would help further outfit the fighters of the Republic, allowing them to defend it all the better.
[] [Tariff] Books: Knowledge is power, and they brought plenty of manuscripts both for pawning off to Clan Rictus and to trade with Cathay, which as far as they know lacks the most modern printing abilities, though they of course have moveable type of a sort.
[] [Tariff] Armor: Admittedly, it's… gently used armor, but the merchant leader of the whole caravan is quite clear that the armor of the dead guards is for sale… and is not salvage.
[] [Tariff] Herbs and Plants (Deadly): Different from food, Clan Rictus apparently had a hunger for plants to feed their… something. Herbs meant for poison were quite common.
[] [Tariff] Herbs and Plants and goods (Healing): Both for the demands of Clan Rictus and, importantly, for their own use and use in Cathay, they have plenty of ointments, ungulents, fresh packages of leeches just ready to work their miracle healing, and so on!
[] [Tariff] Ores and Metals: Another good taken along almost entirely to be sold off to the Skaven, but certainly very useful, especially as the mines have not yet been restarted and yet the need for metals continues to press.
[] [Tariffs] Write-in, subject to veto!
Language Woes
[] [Diplomacy] Language Woes: There are many languages in this new Republic. How many, though? You don't even know, which means you can't even know how to teach them or what to teach or more. Find out. Stat(s): Learning, DC: 10/20/30/40/50, Traits: (General)
–[] Teyoti
1d100+15 (Teyoti Learning)=106 (accidentally rolled with Teyoti's Diplomacy instead, but decided not to throw out the roll, because I'm nice like that)
–[] Teyoti
1d100+15 (Teyoti Learning)=106 (accidentally rolled with Teyoti's Diplomacy instead, but decided not to throw out the roll, because I'm nice like that)
The languages of this new Republic are many, and Teyoti seemed oddly dedicated. Each week it gave exactly and precise reports, in both percentages and in numbers, and each week it found more and more divisions… of course, someone had to look at the report to make clear that the differences between Noble Reikland and Peasant Reiikspiel speech were not an entirely differently language.
Indeed, it came to both Andratse and Chittertongue that in one sense Teyoti did not understand what "a language" was as a distinct entity that could remain "a language" even though it was different in one way or another.
But Teyoti's attention to detail was useful with just a little bit of dividing out.
Among the Man-Things, Reikspiel was a first language of one kind or another represented sixty-seven percent of that total, with Tilean representing eleven percent, Kislevan three percent, Brettonian one percent, Dark Tongue three percent, and Cathayan twelve percent, Indyan two percent, and a number of other small languages mixed in. But of course, among Man-Things, Reiklander as a language for any of them at all was up to eighty-nine percent of the total as Cathayan merchants and travelers tended to know at least some Reiklander tongue.
The "Old Worlder" languages are almost but not quite mutually intelligible, and thus are sometimes classified as dialects, and within them of course there are regional dialects of these "dialects."
Ogres spoke Grumbarth, with around three-quarters of them also speaking Reikspiel or Cathayan, while Gnoblars spoke what is called Gobb-Grumbarth as their primary language, and only spoke a spattering of other languages.
Mountain Dwarfs spoke a Khazalid as weill as Reikspiel in many cases, while Fire Dwarfs spoke first and most of all Khazalid, but with considerable modifications (or perhaps it is the Mountain Dwarfs that have done the modifications, there is no agreement.)
Ghazhakh was the tongue of the Night Goblins, and shared many elements with "Gobb-Grumbarth" which seemed to be a combination of Ghazhakh and Grumbarth in its nature.
Orcs spoke Orrakh, but had also learned several other languages, largely depending on where they operated.
Elves spoke to nobody at all, but when they did they did so in four different tongues.
Lizardmen had their own tongue, while Halflings all spoke Reikspiel.
It was Queekish, especially the growing Creole that Low Queekish was becoming, that was the most common language of all. Nearly 75% of all the Republic spoke and understood Low Queekish with a moderate level of understanding, and nearly 94% of the total population knows at least some Low Queekish. Literacy in this is of course far, far lower, but literacy in general is very low in the Republic and even amongst Skaven, where all Clanrats are expected to be literate, the literacy rate is therefore relatively low… if far higher than among the average Man-Thing, according to the most recent glance at the matter.
It should not be that hard to spread understanding of Low Queekish, but of course there was also Rictus Queekish and High Queekish hanging around, and so many of the scrolls and other documents were written in High, and not low. Indeed "Low Queekish" was often regarded as not worth writing in among the elite of Clan Rictus.
Teyoti, continuing even after all told him(?) to stop, has further analyzed that the Orc's written language, what little of it there is, seems to base itself heavily on Reikspiel and Queekish, while the Night Goblins written language uses Queekish Script or Khalazad Script, depending on which mountain they were stolen from, while the Ogres and Gnoblars' written tongue seems to share more with the complex symbols of Cathay.
Therefore he has proposed that Queekish, Reikspiel, and Ghazhakh be the official spoken languages of the Republic, and that Queekish, Reikspiel, Kalazad, and Cathayan be the official written languages of the Republic.
This has led to an incredibly large argument and one thrown chair. But it is the case that Queekish, Reikspiel, Khalazad, and Cathayan are the basic scripts for all the written forms of the languages of the Republic… but four different written script bases is hardly viable, and the Orcs and Gnoblars would be furious at the idea of an official language that did not include their language.
Just about the only thing that's clear is that Queekish is still the language that, spoken and written, is most well-known in common among all of those in the Republic.
Result: You've learned a lot, and almost started a fight, but it does seem as if Reikspiel and Queekish might be important languages, as might Ghazhakh and Cathayan. Understanding of an acceptable level of Low Queekish is at 71% and rising, but an understanding of High Queekish and technical forms of the language is very low, as is literacy in general.
****
A/N: This is winding up too long for a single update, and also there are already enough votes here.
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