After your little excursion thoroughly depopulated most of the trolls in the region there has been relative peace in the North, the caravans return with a vengeance as the tale of your deeds spread, prompting entrepreneurial merchants and settlers seeking opportunity to flock to your hold. All of these dwarfs eagre to exploit the Gromril of your home and newly struck veins of ores and gems farther north.
Sadly the same cannot be said everywhere throughout the Karaz Ankor.
Apparently, around five years ago a horde of daemons assaulted a minor hold north of Ungor named Karak Rikkaraz, named after a large stone formation shaped vaguely like a dropped hammer, and held it under siege for two years before Grimnir Himself led a throng to relieve them. Despite the Ancestor's timely intervention a good amount of the Karak is ruined, its defensive perimeter breached in a multitude of places with the fighting having found its way into the halls of the hold itself. Even now the dwarfs of that place have begun the laborious process of rebuilding, extended members of the clans sending what supplies and aid they can to their kin. It will be decades before Rikkaraz recovers, perhaps even centuries, but it
will recover. The dwarfen mentality scoffing at the thought of relocation of not only their home, but now a site where Grimnir himself sundered an army?
Ridiculous.
Your thoughts move away from that bit of depressing news and onto a lighter, but equally depressing sight.
"What is this Fjolla? A Rune of Warding or some pickaxe scratch a bored beardling carved into the walls of a mineshaft!? Again! And stop letting up on the fifth hit, the power you lose from that mistake could make the difference between a dead dwarf and a living one,"
"Yes master!" the almost-fullbeard, shouts, her hammer striking with renewed purpose.
You simply huff, having moved to glare over Dolgi's back as he inscribes a rune on a bolt thrower the Engineer's guild donated. A shoddy piece some beardling crapped out to be used for practice if nothing else. Apparently didn't meet their standards, expected lifespan of
only three decades.
What beardling shamed their ancestors building this thing?
"DOLGI!" you shout from behind him, eyes scanning for even the slightest hint that you've startled the boy.
There, a small waver in his hammer blow, almost imperceptible really.
If you were blind.
"Almost a dwarf grown lad, can't believe you still jump at this. I've been going at
even intervals for Morgrim's sake! Seen
goats who don't startle as easily as you do!"
"Yes master!" your other apprentice shouts.
"Keep working the both of you! I'll be back in an hour, I don't want to see even a
dip in pace, and don't think I won't notice!" you holler at them, already heading out of the door.
As the door shuts behind you with a solid thud, your face splits open into a wide grin.
Only thirty years and they've gotten to a level most apprentices didn't reach until their sixth, maybe seventh decade of learning.
Brought a tear to your eye, metaphorically.
You knew you were good, but
this good?
Bah, best not get your head too full. These beardlings weren't leaving your tutelage anytime soon, only a quarter of the way through really. Still plenty of time to fill their heads with enough Runelore for you to feel comfortable sending them out as
your apprentices.
A master would never say so, but would learn soon into their career, that apprentices were also a form of prestige. Masters who taught great Runelords were widely respected for their skill at teaching, and so the quality of the apprentice often reflected the ability of the master. In that way, the apprentice was like anything that left a dwarf's workshop, made, or taught in this case, with intense labour and the accompanying standards thereof. Albeit, it took far longer to get anything worth the description of 'useful' out of them than an axe or hammer did.
The talents of the apprentice meanwhile, were less acknowledged.
For one thing, they were
apprentices, and as the saying went 'good ore still needs to be smelted.' For the other, well no Longbeard would compliment the work of a beardling barring true prodigies like The Twenty Loops, and maybe Fjolla if she stopped faffing about.
Shaking your head, you push the thought of foolish beardlings from your mind and head into the hold.
You have some
Dragon's Blood to get.
…
The Market District is bustling with activity as dwarfs start the day and buy their groceries. You trundle past Longbeards corralling their younger relatives out of the way, frantic apprentices trying to get the attention of busy merchants and elderly matrons weaving through the hustle and bustle with dignified grace. To your left, the scent of fresh bread wafts out of the bakeries, to your right the heady odour of newly tapped kegs of good dwarfen brew. But you aren't here for just a drink and a few loaves of fresh stonebread.
You're here on business.
Finally after scanning the crowd of merchants you catch sight of the one you were looking for, a long train of carts bearing the symbol of a simple chest full of treasure giving the owner away.
"Jorri Klausson you old gravel brained tosser!" you call out, walking towards a familiar-looking merchant just finishing his business with a kindly old dwarf woman.
"Snorri! You cantankerous old Longbeard! Your head gotten fat from all that praise getting to you, you rockhead?" the Dwarf, who bears a striking similarity to you, shouts back as they turn to face you with a wide grin.
"Brother!" the both of you shout in unison.
...
Jorri, the youngest of your siblings and the one with the greatest wanderlust. The only thing that stopped him from taking the path of the ranger was his lifelong infatuation with his now-wife, your sister-in-law Magna, and frankly sickeningly sweet attachment to her.
You remember father sighing in relief the day Jorri came to him asking for his permission to marry her instead of telling him he was going to disappear into the wilds.
With a new wife and hope for many children, Jorri chose to settle down in a profession that would sate his wanderlust in some way by becoming a merchant with a specialty for good solid metalwork and the odd, unique things in the world. Over these past three centuries, managing to leverage familial ties and his magnetic personality to create quite a lucrative business for his family.
"Where's Magna?" you ask looking around the mass of carts for the only woman Jorri's had his eyes on since before he had a beard.
"Bah, off haggling with some miners for more of that wonderful Gromril you found, Azul's always hankering for the stuff and we wanted to attend cousin Gokri's great-grandson's wedding. You know the one? Jarri, with the red hair?" he explains.
"Jarri with five rings or Jarri with the odd thumbs?" you reply conversationally, following Jorri as he walks past cart after cart towards your destination.
"Odd thumbs. A hefty bride price for the lass too, old Garek's sweating bullets every time he sees her. Oh before I forget, how's our grandniece? Igun asked me to check in with you while I was up here, don't know why of course. Seeing as the both of you send letters every month. Is this..? No, that's goats cheese. Where did I, oh! Next one Snorri, that's where I put it I'm certain."
"Well enough," you reply to his question, well used to his odd tangents. Looking around and inside the carts to see neatly stored goods. Racks of master-crafted weapons and armour as well as crates with odd labels like 'Trollstones', 'griffon bladder', and things of that nature.
"That good?" he says, turning to face you with wide eyes.
"Bah," you say, "don't let Fjolla know I said that, but the girl's twice as good as Dolgi and Dolgi's five times better than any apprentice I've seen. Both can be Runelords, Fjolla maybe even Burudin material when she's old enough. Only if they get their arses out of their heads at some point, but I'm hopeful," you finish with finality, conviction evident.
"High praise," Jorri says.
"I taught 'em well," you answer, sniffing once.
Both of you share a grin before you start to chortle.
...
Finally the two of you reach a cart near the back of the caravan, seeing two stout dwarf Longbeards standing guard.
"Gotri, Gotrek! Greet your uncle while I get his package," Jorri says as he climbs into the cart and rustles about.
"Hello Elder," both twins say in unison, heads bowed.
Gotri and Gotrek were the eldest pair of Jorri's seven children, young dwarfs who only recently reached their second century.
"Hello nephews, how's your mother doing?" you ask them.
"She's doing well Uncle, excited to visit Azul after this," Gotrek says, while Gotri nods.
Good, solid boys these two. Magna's influence no doubt, two more dwarfs like Jorri perhaps too much even for her.
"Here it is!" Jorri shouts out from within the cart, coming out of the vehicle carrying a large metal cask, forms of the Rune of Preservation, Slowing and Stability glowing brightly on its surface.
Setting it down, he rests an elbow on it and grins at you.
"One keg of Drakk blood as per your order," he says, voice going serious.
"Hmmm, I'm not sure Jorri, I think I see a scratch on the bottom there, " you hem and haw, teasing inflection in your voice. Reminding him of a particularly embarrassing moment of his youth.
"Bah!" Jorri shouts, "that Wazzock
Gontri Goldeyes did that and you know full well!" he says, beginning his signature tirade about his 'rival.'
Ah, family.
…
"Snorri," Jorri says suddenly, oddly serious, during your walk back to the Workshop, the twins well out of earshot.
"Hmmm?" you ask, looking at him questioningly.
"How bad was it?"
"Hmmph, don't think I can take a hit do you?" You say, trying and failing to lighten the mood with a bit of banter.
"Brother," he says, eyes boring into you.
You walk silently for a moment, brows furrowed before finally replying.
"...One of the worst fights I've fought in my life so far. Near the end of it, the beast started to
win before he got bloated from all the magic he was eating. Not gonna lie Jorri, thought I'd meet Her and Hrokri at the end of it. Lucky I got out of there with only two broken limbs and a broken jaw. But don't you fret, I came out of that scrap the victor in the end didn't I?" you finish, smiling slightly at him.
"I'm glad your alive brother," he whispers, wrapping an arm over your shoulder.
"Me too," you say before continuing, "Got too much left undone to go about dying now don't I?"
"Pure Gromril smelter or something thereabouts right?" Jorri asks.
"Hmmm," you reply noncommittally.
"Willing to pass a few bars to your favourite brother Jorri when it's done? My anniversary is coming up and Magna dese-" he begins before you cut him off.
"-Alright, alright. I'll do it for
Magna, as a gift for her anniversary. If only to thank her for getting you out of my beard," you sigh dramatically.
The rest of the walk is filled with a companionable silence, with only the sound of crunching snow and the huffing of cold air to accompany you, until your small group reaches the Workshop's entrance. Jorri whistling at the sight.
"My
my, is that
four bolt-throwers?" Jorri mutters, respect for the craftsmanship evident in his voice.
"Its actually six," you reply back, beard puffed out proudly.
"Now how'd you go about doing that?" your brother asks, tilting this way and that to try and find the other two bolt throwers.
"A clever bit of placement actually. Rather obvious in hindsight, ya see I-"
...
You have (5 - 1) = 4 actions this turn:
General:
[ ] Expanding the Workshop, Protection: You've a workshop and a home fit for a Runelord, but in your mind's eye you see yet more things to do. Any research regarding the Master Runes will require a level of protection that your current facility simply doesn't have. The cost is irrelevant, it is the materials you need that are the true bottleneck. You've got the Gromril and Dragon Blood necessary for the Rune you need now.
[Cost: 2 actions, -1 vial of Dragon's Blood-]
[ ] Odd Places 1/10: Look on Master Yorri's map and try and discover one of his marked locations. The locations will certainly be odd, but whether they'll be useful will remain to be seen.
[Cost: 1 action] Roll for usefulness.
[X] Teach your apprentices.
[Cost: 1 Action] Locked in for 9 turns.
Requests: Denote which simple request will receive the Apprentice Action in your plan.
[ ] [Simple] Pure Gromril: Somehow you finagled the clans of the hold to agree to the idea of a communal smelter capable of making Pure Gromril. You've got a decent portion of the work down already, and the clans are pitching in and the structure is beginning to take shape. It is a work of art and craftsmanship as the workers have especially good reason to see a job well done; the smelter will be an engine of great wealth for the hold and clans that use it, and of course to show rivals how their clan is better at this task or other.
[Cost: (6-2) =4 actions] Productivity Like No Other will proc.
[ ] [Simple] Runic Warmachines: The Engineer's guild has come to you with a request to improve the hold's war machines with the power of Runes. Their losses at the Battle at the Dragon's Maw is a stinging blow that shames them. Not that any dwarf blames the engineers or claims they didn't do their part, not much can be done when a bunch of daemons spawn on top of your position and destroy your artillery after all, but the event has lit a fire under their collective arses. The previous decade was spent cranking out bolt and grudge throwers by the dozen and what better way to make even deadlier machines than with runes? Well, it's sound logic, runes always make things better.
[Cost: 2 actions] Productivity Like No Other will proc.
[ ] [Difficult] Trollslayer Pt. 1: Thane Ironarm has come to you with a simple request. An axe worthy of commemorating the momentous victory at the Dragon's Maw. He trusts you to make an axe worthy of the prospective title
Trollslayer and is willing to wait for the product for however long it takes. After all, how can he not have faith in you after everything that's happened? First, you have to figure out what runes you want on this damn thing.
[Cost: 1 action] Productivity Like No Other will proc.
- [ ] Choose: pick three runes you want on the weapon.
- [ ] Theme: write in a theme for the weapon. (I will roll to see if you find a new combo)
- [ ] GM: Leave it to the GM. (I will roll to see if you find a new combo)
If a rune you want requires special ingredients that you don't have access to I will alert you. If I am given the choice you won't have to worry about that. A good rule of thumb on if it will likely need ingredients is if it's a Master Rune or it's a rune you've developed and know it will need ingredients you don't have. Pt 2. will cost 1 more action + whatever ingredients, if any, you need FYI.
Research: Your career and your honour demand you hone your craft, and it's usually done through poking at runes and seeing what works.
[ ] The Greedy One's Heart: This thing has been transferred to a warded container because you don't really trust anything that came from
that thing. You're all but certain you could make a truly potent Master Rune of Healing or Fortitude with this thing, but perhaps there are other uses for it you could come up with that a battery of tests could reveal.
[Cost: 4 actions.] Student of the Odd will proc
[ ] The Secrets of Light?: That moment with the shield and sunray, the light of your torch glinting off the crystal, both sparked something in your mind. An ember that refused to be burned out. You've done permutations to the standard Rune of Light and a few on Master Yorri's Rune of Reflection, but maybe there could be more?
[Cost: (8-2) =6 Actions] Student of the Odd will proc
[ ] The Movement of things: The Rune of Waking or Animation as some would call it is a rare rune. How Master Yorri knows both the regular and Master Rune could be explained by either a harrowing adventure full of terror, beasties and treasure or by something as mundane as asking a friend, you could never be sure with the man. Still, this was a rune that, to your frustration, you haven't had much chance to tinker with. Maybe just a peak?
[Cost: 8 actions] Student of the Odd will proc.
[ ] The Rune Metal: The miners say all the Gromril's as pure as anything they've ever seen, purer even, but no word of brilliant silver or pure white streaks. Coming back to the cave days later to see for yourself and you can't say they're lying either. But yet… but yet you can't, almost refuse to get the image out of your head. Maybe it's nothing, but maybe it may not be. Its been decades but the memory refuses to leave you. You've gotten a start, but there's a bit left to go.
[Cost: (6-2) =4 Actions] Student of the Odd will proc.
[-] Understand a Master Rune: The same idea as studying any rune in theory, in practice it takes a lot longer and there's often a large chance of explosions.
[Cost: 16 actions] Locked due to lack of a proper workshop.
Remember to vote by plan.
AN: C&C always, and thank you for reading :^)
