On Thread Etiquette:
I'm not going to weigh in on the logic of either side's arguments, but I will ask that everyone read over what they write and really consider if the words they used are polite and won't be inflammatory intentionally or not. You cant account for people's tolerances perfectly but at least try to say your piece without saying things that can be easily construed as overly dismissive of the other side of the argument, thank you.
I'd say Stalwart, because this is Adamant. If Stone isn't part of a combo, then we made the super metal even harder, which is useless. Stalwart is useful, combo or no combo.
I'd say Stalwart, because this is Adamant. If Stone isn't part of a combo, then we made the super metal even harder, which is useless. Stalwart is useful, combo or no combo.
I've associated Stalwart with a Guard. Its a kind of rune suitable for a Huskarl.
Someone who will never abandon their post, a stalwart guard of the ages. And given the idea of Barak Azamar to make Snorri into a wall for the Hold, to make a symbol and creation that is invested with his desires to defend the people of Kraka Drakk, I find it fitting?
Consider a phrase like "A stalwart vigil"and you get the sort of image I'm thinking of.
All I'm getting from this is we need to do something weird with the Rune of Stone. Maybe research it for a bit, study the rune and then involve Snerra in studying it. See what the once in a generation prodigy can do if she goes all in on studying the first rune.
Snorri might not personally make a rune that would outshine the Rune of Eternity but his apprentice might if they're given a good head start.
If we're angling for a rune sentence that makes Snorri difficult to toss around or push out of the way, and assuming the troll heart is involved, I think it's preferable to accomplish the effect through making Snorri physically powerful or just plain stubborn, rather than through more blatantly supernatural means like supergluing his feet to the ground or making him ignore the principles of leverage or whatever. I say this for largely the same reasons I was against putting preservation on the armour: the heart has connotations with life and emotion, so I think it would dovetail better with runes that specifically work on the user in his capacity as a living being. A rune that makes Snorri a stronger wrassler is better than one which gives him a hidden inertia multiplier, that kind of thing.
I still think the most expedient way to stop the next big monster du jour treating Snorri like a bowling pin is to simply make him swole enough to dig his heels in and push back when something comes charging, like when he gored Avarice on the horns of his helmet and bullrushed it off the edge of a cliff. That's a pretty pivotal moment in his personal saga and a setup that enhances his ability to perform similar feats in the future would be a very fine thing to put on his armour. If the rune of might remains a non-starter, I suppose I prefer stalwart over stone.
[X] Plan Apprentices and Odd places
-[X] Apprentice Hunt: [Cost: 1 Action] Apprentice Vote after Turn Results.Go out and trawl through the local and regional populace to find a beardling or two worth your time. No stone unturned, no clan unchecked, no record unread, even the Foundling Wards! 1 Action.
-[X] [Simple] A Better Smelter: [Cost: 6 actions, x1 Voidstone] Productivity Like no Other will proc. +1 Extra Action.
-[X] [Difficult] Armored Skies Pt. 1: [Cost 1 Action]
--[X] Choose: Master Rune of Blizzards, Rune of Lightning (Kholek's Blood), Rune of Grungni (Oathgold)
-[X] Odd Places 6/10: [Cost: 1 action] Roll for usefulness. 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.
The wind howls all along the valley walls. Carving gouges or weathering surfaces smooth. You readjust the goggles over your eyes and brush off the frost build up on your beard.
Through the ice and gales, you catch sight of an outcropping to shelter behind and get your bearings.
It takes a few minutes trudging against the wind and through the knee-deep snowbanks before your face no longer feels the stinging blows of the cold air blasting it. Carefully, you usher the goats and cart so that they are no longer being subjected to the bitter winds as well.
Sliding down against the side of the outcropping, you pull out Yorri's journal to thumb through the pages. Eventually, you find the map your master had made, and deduce you're about a few hours out from reaching the location he's marked. Hard to say given the poor state of the map itself frankly, only seven levels of depth and a scale he didn't even bother to mark. Though given what you've learned about the purpose of the journal, you suppose Yorri wouldn't have made it easy to find his location at the end of it all.
You close the journal and put it away then dare poke your head out into the open elements for a minute or so.
Not even five seconds later you pull your thoroughly frost coated head out of the now screaming wind and start setting up a form of shelter for yourself.
…
The Runes on your clothes, along with the Hearthstones you've stuffed in between, prevent you from feeling the worst effects of the chill, but you nevertheless wrap yourself up in a down blanket while you rub your hands in front of a roaring flame.
A useful thing about the Master Rune of Conduction was that if you activated it near enough to some tinder it'd set it ablaze with no effort. Overtop, a slanted tarp covers you from any snow that may fall over your head, tilted so that it simply slides off rather than build up until it grows so heavy that the tarp becomes liable to bury you. Off deeper in the crevice, the goats rest and warm themselves up with the prodigious use of Hearthstones.
Damnable freak summer blizzards.
With nothing else to do you leaf through Yorri's journal for other things to read about. Much of it is entertaining, even if it isn't leading you somewhere new or fascinating. Stories, thoughts and experiences, written down in the fine parchment that show the slow progression from what seemed like an average dwarf into the beginnings of the oddity that was your Master.
But there was something else.
Scratch marks, torn pages, censors over his writings. Some you can parse, others become entirely incomprehensible with over half their content lost or covered up. All of it bears a striking enough similarity though, enough to make a good guess as to the reason why all this striking out was done.
Each and every lost page seems to refer to the time of Yorri's apprenticeship, and more specifically to his Master's very name.
I worked for years to scrub the records clear...
The words come back to you as easily as remembering your breakfast, but so too does the striking image of Alric's face as Yorri spat those words at him.
Resignation, sadness, but not disappointment.
You've been on the receiving end of far too many disappointed stares and stances than you'd like to admit, so you're damned sure Alric wasn't feeling that towards Yorri.
Another mystery you suppose, and from the looks of things, not one you're likely to hear about in any great detail.
The Blizzard has abated, and you can now see straight to the other side of the valley all the way to the towering peaks in the far off distance.
But instead, you stare downwards, eyes boring into the odd shapes that litter this section of the valley. At first, you thought Yorri's sketches were a flight of fancy but no, they were correct.
Odd-looking rocks dot the landscape in clusters and bundles. But as you dig out one of these so-called "rocks," you feel and see the beginnings of what could be considered a root system. Unearthing the entire thing you are left with an almost stump like stone with equally rocky roots that branch out to anchor it to the earth. Using your axe, you cut one of the plants open and see that it's in fact some sort of tuberous plant. Like a Zornish Yam, if you could make a close enough comparison, but certainly not as striking in appearance.
(Not to scale obviously and the colours are way more muted)
art by Sam Leung, Link here
You go about gathering some samples over the day, collecting enough to fill your wagon.
That night you flip through Yorri's poor excuse for handwriting and decipher what little knowledge he gleaned before moving on.
From the looks of things, your master had named these odd plants Durazkul, the Bones of the Earth, for their craggy appearance and the shapes the full-grown stem took in the fall. Noting that it looked like a field of rocky ribs.
But what draws your attention is the fact that these things seemed to improve one's natural healing ability, going by the meticulous charts he wrote to record the rate at which he healed from a cut to prove that ingestion of the plants did provide a noticeable improvement in his recovery. Only several months' worth of notation, and not enough subjects to verify and eliminate any other factors but it's a good start. Though how the plants did so, he could not ascertain with the resources he had on hand, or at least to levels where it would have been worth the rock it'd have been written on.
You eye the plants with a newfound appreciation.
Twelve days later, your cart laden with a haul of Durazkul, the stony tubers drawing many eyes as you pass. Not that you can blame them, as some are about half the height of the cart and just as heavy.
You're giving the goats a good long rest after this.
…
You eye Dolgi's work. Solid, decent for a regular Runesmith, but certainly not for any apprentice of yours. Eyeing him critically, you see him nod in affirmation.
"Third etch mark wasn't it Master?" he asks, no longer the shy young boy you took under your wing.
"That was your first mistake aye. You have a few more to go, I give it a year tops before you get it down. That is if anything I taught you stayed in that head of yours hmm?"
"Aye master," Dolgi replies.
"Back at it then lad, however many more times you see fit. Consider that a test too, extra work if you didn't get it up to snuff within that time," you tell him gruffly.
"I understand," he says seriously, diligently returning to his work.
You nod and walk off towards the far end of the workshop where Fjolla is currently chiselling away at the first stage of beginning her work with Master Runes. The same place all Masters begin, you included.
The Conversion Rune Matrix, the very same one in your own personal quarters.
Now theoretically, Fjolla wouldn't even attempt to make a Master Rune without your explicit say so, but even then you weren't willing to bet on something like that.
Magical feedback from an improper Master Rune was never something to trifle with, and considering the sheer length of time it takes to inscribe the array, it also served as a means to test her own endurance. After all, bungling the array only meant you'd be out of a room and some Dragon's blood, as opposed to your limbs or worse.
You're sure Klorah wouldn't want Fjolla to come to her wedding injured after all.
And unlike some Dwarf brides you've met, it was actually for altruistic purposes as well!
.125 A.P.
Watching Dolgi try and immerse himself in Runework in a desperate attempt to get over his nerves, while amusing and nostalgic, makes you shake your head.
"Stop abusing that poor Rune and follow me Dolgi, you're in no state to keep working on Runes today. Another test would do you better if you want to get your wedding off the mind," you say, waving him over with a rustle of paper. The thoroughness dwarfs took in planning a wedding did neither bride or groom any favours, given that it took months to years depending on circumstances. You do not look fondly on those long days spent agonizing over your own wedding day all those centuries ago, all the meetings and planning you had to take part in.
Well worth it in the end though, you think, the memory of that day untainted by the grief even now.
You refuse to taint it with such negativity.
Returning to your senses you see that Dolgi follows you almost subconsciously, deeply ingrained routines never really going away despite a near-century on his own.
The two of you reach a massive stone table where you've laid out the plans for the King of the Sky's armour.
"Here lad, every error you can find I want you to mark out. When you're done, give me a thorough report as to why. I want to see if that noggin of yours has it cut out for teaching," you explain, laying out his task for him.
You doubt that he hears much of what you said aside from the bare necessities, simply grabbing one of your fine chalks and getting to work.
Taking a few minutes to make sure he's thoroughly engrossed in his "test," you pat Dolgi on the back and head off to make sure Fjolla hasn't bungled up too badly in your absence before you go and do more work on Jorri's arm.
.127 A.P.
Dwarf weddings were always drawn-out affairs. Months and maybe even years in the making, at least on the part of the planners. For you it was eight days of feasting and drinking before a long but meaningful ceremony, followed by yet eight more days of celebratory revelry. For the actual bride and groom it was somewhere between the two.
You were not entirely privy to the details and ceremonies maidens took, for dwarf women were just as secretive of their traditions as the guilds in some respects. Still, you knew that for some amount of days the women of the bride's clan would go about getting the bride presentable. Often enough it involved a very thorough and long cleansing process that symbolically represented the maiden's transformation into a woman grown. You knew of the hair cleansing, the ale guzzling and even the brow plucking ceremonies, and a host of others. But the rite of Valaya, the knot twirling, things no dwarf woman spoke of save to confirm their existence, were mysteries to you.
Better that way you think.
On the men's side you were far more knowledgeable, having been married yourself after all. The official preparations for the groom began a good two months before the wedding, same as the bride. In the Groom's case it began with the crafting, a ceremony done over the entire two month period in between the other ceremonies. The name was fairly self-explanatory, depending on the dwarf's profession they would create an item or items to be placed upon the Nuptial scales come the time of the wedding. For some careers, like a Mason, it could be a promissory note in which they would provide their services in equal or greater value to the bride's clan on sworn oath, or perhaps even the right of first refusal for their first batch of brews made during this time if they were a brewer for instance. It served as a testament of their commitment and proof of the Groom's ability to provide for and care for his future family, one that was perhaps almost as good as the Gartering.
For a Runesmith like Dolgi, it'd be in more physical goods in the form of Runic gear and the like. It was considered a great omen for the groom to be capable of exceeding the value of his personal contribution to the bride price, as determined by the Nuptial scales, on his lonesome. Though his Clan would nevertheless apply their share of the agreed-upon amount. In theory, it would be in poor taste to indebt the bride's clan by "overpaying" as it were, but in practice, most Clans didn't mind and the future husbands did their best to do so regardless.
It paid to start a marriage off well after all.
The Crafting comprised the bulk of the Groom's time, though he was expected to participate in the other traditional ceremonies throughout this period.
The Beard Tugging, wherein his Clansmen would, very carefully, tug on his beard in such a fashion as to promote growth.
The Chugging wherein he would test and temper his gullet by chugging as much as he could before growing tipsy, with the aim of improving his tolerance come the wedding.
The Arm Pulling, the Hold Running, and one couldn't forget the Granite Grinding.
All time honoured traditions that used the clever disguise of self-improvement to let his family do a bit of good-natured ribbing to keep his spirits high and mind from spiralling into anxiety about failing to impress his wife.
You should know.
But beyond that bit of fun there were several key rituals he still had to undergo. One ritual, done by both Groom and Bride, was the Unsealing of the Vaults. Wherein the dwarf would choose one piece of equipment to bear with him from the Clan's ancestral armoury come time of the ceremony. Oftentimes it was a weapon, but could be anything realy. The item chosen was just as much a statement of the Clan's legacy as it was the dwarf's intent. A relic axe used by the greatest warrior of their Clan for instance said something different from the shield that held back the blow of a Greater Daemon or the hammer of the Clan's mightiest smith.
Then, in the final 16 days leading up to the date of the ceremony, there was the Beard Grooming. Wherein a great deal of effort, beyond even the amount a dwarf normally applied, was spent to make his Beard as good as it could be. Days of straightening, fortifying oils, conditioners and brushing, all with the express purpose of making his beard the envy of every other dwarf in the room come his wedding day.
You wish Dolgi well and take a deep drink from the ale Clan Scorrilling has on tap.
"Lord Snorri! What brings you here?" a familiar voice asks, and you turn to see Lorna Hammerfall nursing a mug of ale and staring at you.
"It's my apprentice's wedding, why wouldn't I be here?" you ask.
"Ah-ah I yes, I never realized Klorah was marrying that Dolgi, how silly of me," she says, looking away and chuckling nervously.
Odd girl.
Brushing that thought aside you decide to spare her and ask, "you know her?"
"Ah, not Klorah specifically, her mother. She and I are old friends you see. We have a working relationship, every so often she comes by asking for a bit of work done for her stock," she explains.
You grunt in understanding before taking another swig.
"Say Lord Snorri, have you ever thought much on the topic of reading?" she asks.
"I dabble I suppose. Manuals, histories, biographies and the like," you reply in between swigs.
"Mmm, nothing fictional?" she continues.
"Not in a long while, nothing against it mind you, but my duties and other hobbies take up more of my time," you say with a shrug.
"Oh? Like what if I may be so bold?" she prods, seemingly gaining a bit of confidence.
"Cooking, baking...woodworking," you answer gruffly.
You were not ashamed of your toy making, far from it really if you had to be brutally honest with yourself, but it wasn't something you'd go about announcing to the world.
"What sort of dishes?" Lorna says.
"Kulgur mostly," you grumble, "stonebread and that sort of thing."
"Have you ever thought of...writing that sort of thing down?"
(Roll, Lorna RER: 97)
Here you pause, scratching your beard and thinking about it. You didn't have much to write about in your opinion, maybe a compendium or two if you really padded things out. There was also the factor of time to consider, spending a few hours to write a book didn't seem like much until you took a good long look at your schedule.
"Nai, not really. Too little time really, same as reading." you eventually say.
"Aye, I suppose that's true. Wished there was a way to go about making a transcriber eh?" she says, chuckling nervously, "Would aid me a great deal that's for sure."
[Student of the Odd]
Hmmm, there may be something there actually. A variant of the Rune of Waking...but it needed something else. Rune of Prosthesis would probably be a better base considering, but there was also the apparatus of such a thing to consider as well…
...of course! You widen your eyes and slam your fist against your open palm.
You could see it happening, maybe even feasible too.
"Lord Klaussson?"
Turning to eye the fidgeting young Runelord whose staring at you anxiously after your outburst brings you out of your musing. You grunt in an attempt to assuage any fears she may have.
You'll pay her back for inspiring you somehow.
...
You are one of the dwarfs with a seat of honour during the ceremony, put just behind Dolgi's parents and his Clan's Elders. Beside you, Fjolla sits primly, while a few rows back Snerra happily watches the events unfold.
Klorah walks in first, escorted by her father and uncle. The dress she wears is a bright thing, the traditional colours of Clan Silvereyes evident, the jewelry she wears is a mix of yet more heirlooms and her own work, being an ordained Master Silversmith herself. But the outfit, for all its appearance and finery, is secondary to her hair. Her locks shimmer like Oathgold, the streaks of white in it bundled and formed to look like veins of literal silver streaking through the chestnut brown. She has no ornamentation in it, save for simple ties that keep her braids from unravelling.
Much like the beard, a maiden's hair was her pride, and served a symbol of both her wisdom and character. It was obvious then, even before Valaya codified such traditions, that the hair was often the focal point of a woman's wedding ensemble.
She has a dignified air about her, even as she is lifted onto the gargantuan and finely constructed machinery of the Nuptial scales. The clink of gears and levers chimes for several seconds as the hair precise machinery uses Klorah's weight to calculate the final value of her Bride Price.
A moment of great joy for the Bride's clan and a source of anxiety for the In-laws.
The agreed-upon amounts discussed in the early negotiations were always in percentages after all. In part because of the receiving Clan's practice of, to put it kindly, cultivating the mass of the future bride to be.
You remember quite well the response of a few dwarf women when their Clan got a bit too invested in getting the best price out of her. Duty to one's clan only excused so much after all, but being fattened like a goat before slaughter was definitely a step too far.
The memory rises unbidden.
You fondly recall seeing one of her uncles sporting a black eye on the day of your wedding. Her father was beaming in pride the whole way through, equal parts happy with the wealth and the confirmation his daughter had a right hook as mean as his.
She had her mother's left hook too.
The scales chime, signifying the end of its arcane calculation and a representative of both clans walk over to the officiating Priest and Priestess of Grungni and Valaya to see the final number. After confirming, both announce the number to the room.
Polite clapping from Clan Scorrilling and a great cheer from Clan Silvereyes erupt.
You do not envy Dolgi's father.
Speaking of which, you hear the herald announce your apprentice's entrance.
Like Fjolla and Snerra, though a bit more discreetly, you turn your gaze to see Dolgi walk into the hall. He looks positively regal, dressed in the finest traditional clothing of his Clan, and bearing the heirloom Hammer of its founder in one hand and a Rune Axe of his own making. The last few streaks of red in his beard dance in the white, giving it the appearance of molten silver. Aside from his admittedly regal-looking beard, what draws an equal amount of praise is the massive form of his Griffon friend, clad in the armour Dolgi had made for him, hauling a massive cart absolutely laden with Runic equipment. Fine chests of axes, hammers and picks, racks on racks of Gromril Armour that bear the heraldry of Clan Silvereyes and a massive banner that bears the Clan's emblem.
The sheer display of wealth is enough to make Clan Scorrilling and Clan Silvereyes erupt in raucous cheers. The former because of the great honour such a feat brings, and the latter because that was clearly enough equipment to equip every adult in the Clan.
You sniff once in approval, done in such a way that Dolgi catches sight of it.
Well done.
Credit where it was due, he didn't break down into tears during or after the ceremony itself. At least from what you recall.
A lot of drinking was done over those few days, enough to only make you 95% certain about the veracity and series of events.
.129 A.P.
Trying to create a new Smelter array is a trial of patience more so than it is difficulty, and you've spent the better part of a decade working on and off on the project in between all your other duties.
While the original design has served you well and continues to do so, having access to the brotherhood's notes on their own process has given you valuable insight and a new perspective on your own work.
Mostly it gives you a feeling of quiet pride to know just how much more efficient your own work is compared to the far more wasteful process the Brotherhood employed. Not that you let it get to your head considering they had no knowledge of voidstone when designing their own process, and given that you only found out about it through simple chance.
Still, there are parts you can use to improve your own furnace design
Dragon's blood for instance, served as the key ingredient in their refinement process, using the fluid's magical and extremely heat sensitive and conducting properties to allow their Runes to refine the Gromril into Adamant. Of course the process wasn't perfect, the Dragon's blood was rare and incredibly expensive, a problem exacerbated by the fact that the liquid literally boiled away from the extreme heat introduced in the refining process in the volcano's heart, and the Runes used literally cracked under the extreme heat they and the surrounding lava produced.
Maybe if you could incorporate the use of Elder Dragon's blood to your design somehow, maybe it could improve the overall output of your smelter?
Time would tell, you just had to keep working at it.
But right now you would leave this be and head off to meet Jorri at the Clan's residence.
He'd been waiting long enough for his arm after all, and it wouldn't do being shown up when Snerra had gone and made him an entire suit of armour.
…
As you walk out of your workshop, bundle in your arms, you see Rudil and Vikken, a youth of maybe 300 years old, walking towards you.
"Elder," they say bowing.
"Beardlings," you grunt.
"Secure the door while you're out?" Vikken asks, hefting his axe.
"Aye, shouldn't be gone long. Just off to see Jorri, if Dolgi comes by let him in and tell him to wait for me. Same for Fjolla, they'll know how to use their time in the meanwhile," you grunt out before walking off down the path.
"As you say Elder," Rudil calls after you.
Bah.
…
You see Jorri walking around in his new set of Gromril armour, the wagon wheel emblem on his chest glowing gently with Snerra's finely made Runes.
A quiet thrum of pride runs through your chest.
Good lass.
"Jorri you krut head, come here! I have your arm for you," you shout, startling him out the story he was telling to a pair of wide-eyed children.
Probably some overblown tat about how he lost his arm.
You snort in amusement when the children turn from Jorri to you. If they were wide-eyed before, they were now absolutely saucer-like as they beheld you, much to Jorri's annoyance and your own delight.
At besting Jorri of course, not the wonder-filled gaze of the children, no sir.
"Off to your parents now beardlings, my brother and I have things to do," Jorri says, patting them both on their heads before walking towards you.
"Hmmm Snerra's improving at least," you say as you inspect his armour.
"Aye she is, I'm sure she'll be the best of them when she gets old enough," he says proudly.
"Course she will, she's my student after all," you agree, "now, come here and show me that stump so we can get this arm on."
…
Your brother stares at the glimmering silver musculature with a critical eye. The intricate plates shift and move as he bends and twists the apparatus as easily as he did his old arm. It was a fine piece of work if you say so yourself. Engraved with an intricate series of knotwork that highlights the individual plates that make up its construction. Flicks of light flare up as they shift, emanating from the Runes engraved on the Gromril "bones" you made to support the entire structure inside.
"Pure Gromril core, sheathed in silver and steel. Rune of Prosthesis, Fire and Strollaz's in the arm itself. Should let you handle carrying around that much weight more easily. Press the latch on the right there, by your wrist."
Jorri eyes you oddly before doing as you instruct, pressing the silver button down for a second before removing his finger.
Almost immediately after, a flaming axe blade and butt spike sprout from the sides of his hand while his wrist is locked into place by the Gromril rod that extends through his arm to give the entire structure stability.
"Haha!" he says, throwing around a few test swings and flourishes, "this is magnificent!"
"Aye, aye it is. Multiple activation sequences, redundant so you don't go around smacking your hand or thinking of something and turning it into a weapon without wanting to. I have a full list of activation methods on me."
"AH this will do me well on the road. Never know when you'll need a flaming Gromril axe after all!" he chortles.
You shake your head, "Well I'd like to stay and chat but I have a bit of staking out to do."
Jorri turns from his flourishing and stares at you quizzically.
"I think its about time I take on a new apprentice or two," you explain.
"At your age?"
"What do you mean my age? 780 years is a perfectly acceptable age to take on an apprentice," you reply back hotly.
"Didn't think you'd take anymore after Snerra. Seven apprentices is a good enough contribution nai?" he asks.
"Bah! That's just because some dwarfs just dont have the tolerance for dealing with the same kind of babbling more than a few times," you say brushing him off.
"And it isn't because you can't find out anything that happened to your other ones?" Jorri asks grabbing your shoulder and staring at you intently.
"What do you mean can't find anything? Jargrim's probably off chasing some new beasty to make reagents out of, Konna's most certainly showing up those fools in the Blacksmiths Guild, Thorgrim right there beside her. And Onki, well Onki's doing whatever he is that gets himself up to. Busy doing their part to write to their old master and let him know they're alright. Why, in a decade or two I'm sure contact with their holds will be re-established and then I can get around to knocking some sense into their heads for disrespecting me!"
Jorri has an odd look in his eyes for a moment before nodding, "Aye, aye you're right. I'm sure you'll see them again soon enough,"
"Hmph I better have! Damn fool children can't even manage their time well enough to write a letter," you harrumph.
Both of you ignore the fact that your efforts to find them have turned up nothing.
But you refuse to give up on them.
They're your students, and they're alive.
.130 A.P.
Your efforts to find a few dwarfs worth the effort of teaching have been...mixed. Much like the Grand Conclave, you've found yourself at the tail end of things it seems, many a beardling having already been taken on as apprentices already. Not to say you found no one, but the source of your potential charges has surprised you.
Of the two large Runesmithing Clans present, only Clan Stoneplate had any dwarfs worth your time, as Winterhearth's talent was seemingly swept up by the other Runesmiths of the hold. Bara's great-grandson, who you were certain you'd have to amicably fight the woman over, and her great-grandnephew who she, despite her best efforts to appear otherwise, did not favour as much.
But there was also another choice, a rarity and tragedy bundled into one. During your excursions into the Foundling Wards you'd sniffed out a girl with the talent, and after consulting with Moira you'd confirm through more discreet means that she did indeed have a talent for the Art of your forefathers.
The question was then, who would you take?
[ ] Number: 1.
8 Turns until they can be released, 3 turns until specialty and apprentice action, 7 turns til +1 apprentice action.
[ ] Number: 2.
12 turns until they can be released, 3 turns until specialties and apprentice action, 7 turns til +1 apprentice action.
[ ] Apprentice: Karstah Khazadsdottir:
A rarity, nai damn near impossibility, most days, but in the aftermath of the incursion perhaps expected. As her last name suggests, Karstah is one of the many foundlings brought about by the horrendous loss of the Incursion. Karstah has spent the past thirty years in the foundling wards searching for a chance to prove herself. Holding on to what few items of value she has, two sets of clothes, two hammers, and a dwarf doll that bears your mark. She's got an average amount of talent, but what draws your attention is the sheer drive she has. Desperate and angry, the other foundlings have taken to calling her Drakksdottir because of how she spits fire with every breath.
[ ] Apprentice: Bronn Grundisson of Clan Stoneplate
Bara's great-grandson, and it shows. The boy's about as talented as Fjolla was at his age. Confident, proud, and willing to do his utmost to uphold the Clan's honour, especially now that his own line bears a Runelord in their lineage. The boy's bright grey eyes stare at a challenge like an adventure, eager to get started. Bara has made it clear to you that while seniority demands you have first rights, she'll fight you tooth and nail for him. Not that it'd lead to any negative impact. End of the day the boy's getting taught by a Runelord after all, and she respects you too much to hold it against you. Roll a DC to see if you lose out to Bara.
[ ] Apprentice: Nain Kazzarsson of Clan Stoneplate
Where Bronn is a bonfire, Nain is a simple campfire in comparison. Average in talent, he's grown up being compared to the lad. Not that Nain holds any ill will, boy's more timid than a lamb ya see. Quiet too, but unlike Dolgi he's not got the talent to make up for it. Average, which is no mark against him, but against his cousin? Well, there's a reason why he's so driven to prove his worth. Though not so much for himself as it is for his family's sake, which is already a more productive outlet than growing bitter over it. Bara does her best to be impartial whenever she's asked, but it's clear enough to see who she'd pick. Bara may take him if you don't.
…
At the end of the decade, you are roused from your workbench by the telltale knock on your door.
You open the great stone slabs and come face to face with bright blue eyes staring at you.
"His name's Skarri!" Dolgi says proudly, patting the lad, no more than five, on the back.
"Hullo Elder," the boy says.
"Hullo there young one, come in and have some stonebread while I talk with your father would you?"
He looks to his father, who nods, before turning to you and scurrying in with a quiet thanks on his lips.
You watch him run off, then turn to look at Dolgi, smiling proudly after his son, and then to the members of Clan Silvereyes who have seemingly escorted the boy here, no doubt on Klorah's orders.
"I would have brought more, but this is barely acceptable I suppose. There's a way into the barracks on the right, Rudil will point you to the ale there. Dolgi I'm having you run through your Master Rune practice at level sixteen, because marriage clearly hasn't saved you just yet," you grumble out before turning around to find the necessary garments. Purposefully ignoring the satisfied grin on your apprentice's face and Fjolla's confused muttering as she notices Skarri scarfing down on a loaf of stonebread.
He won't be grinning after he sees what you've cooked up.
No sir.
…
Gain:
- Apprentice(s)!
- Your fool charges have begun learning Master Runes and the work needed to safely fiddle with them.
- One of your fool charges has gotten married and somehow had children, good for Dolgi.
- Durazkul, the Bones of the Earth. A hearty tuber that looks like stone but certainly tastes better. Odd healing properties? Research Unlocked
- Epiphany! +[1d2] =1progress to The Movement of Things Pt. 2 and The Mind of Things Pt.1, new totals [Cost: 8 -4 =4 actions] & [Cost: 8 -1 =7 actions]
- New Rune Combo Unlocked! Combo, Stormfront: [Master Rune of Blizzards, Rune of Lightning, Rune of Grungni]: [The bearer is enshrouded in a layer of of form blurring fog, lightning crackles around them, attacking foes and vaporizing lesser projectiles into ash.] The Rolling thunderheads are a common sight in the north, the old legends say that when Grungni first swung Drongrundrum the skies, seeking to emulate him, created lightning and thunder in response.] Effect of ingredients on combo will not be revealed until the armour is made.
- +3 Progress to A Better Smelter, new totals: [Cost: 6 -3 = 3 actions]
- +1 [T2] Oathgold
...
TWO HOUR MORATORIUM FOR DISCUSSION. NO NEED TO PLAN VOTE IN THIS CASE.
Just to clarify, since I see a lot of talk about taking batches of apprentices and using the older ones to teach and interact with the younger batch, you won't be able to use apprentice actions to substitute one of yours unless you have 2 apprentice actions available. Mostly because it makes both narrative sense and stops an endless train of apprentices exploit from going too badly. I will also point out that eventually I'm gonna stop keeping track of apprentices as closely as I do Fjolla, Dolgi and Snerra unless I feel like it or the dice for apprentice gen really memes it up. Mostly for the sake of preventing character bloat and because my pea brain isn't big enough to handle that much info along with everything else.
Well here's the update. Took a bit of time, more than I thought but that's become the norm. Anyway thanks for reading and don't forget too C&C :^)
[ ] Apprentice: Karstah Khazadsdottir:
A rarity, nai damn near impossibility, most days, but in the aftermath of the incursion perhaps expected. As her last name suggests, Karstah is one of the many foundlings brought about by the horrendous loss of the Incursion. Karstah has spent the past thirty years in the foundling wards searching for a chance to prove herself. Holding on to what few items of value she has, two sets of clothes, two hammers, and a dwarf doll that bears your mark. She's got an average amount of talent, but what draws your attention is the sheer drive she has. Desperate and angry, the other foundlings have taken to calling her Drakksdottir because of how she spits fire with every breath.
yeah a true mark of a smith's skill is not being able to use amazing material to make quality products, but being able to do the same with any material
i would like the two apprentices that are average but have determination in their bones
So as a foundling will she wind up making her own clan one day, or does she have some distant clan she is a part of? I'm not really clear on how foundlings go through life.
@soulcake "Your brother stares at the glimmering silver musculature with a critical eye. The intricate plates shift and move as he bends and twists the apparatus as easily as he did his old arm. It was a fine piece of work if you say so yourself. Engraved an"
@soulcake Can you at least tell us, on a scale of 1 to 10, how much of a meme Khazadsdottir is, in terms of potential? Better than Snerra being a 10, with barely worth putting on the list our 1.
[ ] Apprentice: Karstah Khazadsdottir:
A rarity, nai damn near impossibility, most days, but in the aftermath of the incursion perhaps expected. As her last name suggests, Karstah is one of the many foundlings brought about by the horrendous loss of the Incursion. Karstah has spent the past thirty years in the foundling wards searching for a chance to prove herself. Holding on to what few items of value she has, two sets of clothes, two hammers, and a dwarf doll that bears your mark. She's got an average amount of talent, but what draws your attention is the sheer drive she has. Desperate and angry, the other foundlings have taken to calling her Drakksdottir because of how she spits fire with every breath.
[ ] Apprentice: Nain Kazzarsson of Clan Stoneplate
Where Bronn is a bonfire, Nain is a simple campfire in comparison. Average in talent, he's grown up being compared to the lad. Not that Nain holds any ill will, boy's more timid than a lamb ya see. Quiet too, but unlike Dolgi he's not got the talent to make up for it. Average, which is no mark against him, but against his cousin? Well, there's a reason why he's so driven to prove his worth. Though not so much for himself as it is for his family's sake, which is already a more productive outlet than growing bitter over it. Bara does her best to be impartial whenever she's asked, but it's clear enough to see who she'd pick. Bara may take him if you don't.
The clink of gears and levers chimes for several seconds as the hair precise machinery uses Klorah's weight to calculate the final value of her Bride Price.
Fattened female Dwarfs sound really... Something. And then when they need to evacuate the hold and need to protect the female and young? Its because the female ones are too heavy to run any faster.
Just to clarify, since I see a lot of talk about taking batches of apprentices and using the older ones to teach and interact with the younger batch, you won't be able to use apprentice actions to substitute one of yours unless you have 2 apprentice actions available. Mostly because it makes both narrative sense and stops an endless train of apprentices exploit from going too badly. I will also point out that eventually I'm gonna stop keeping track of apprentices as closely as I do Fjolla, Dolgi and Snerra unless I feel like it or the dice for apprentice gen really memes it up. Mostly for the sake of preventing character bloat and because my pea brain isn't big enough to handle that much info along with everything else.
At least the foundling lass. I would love pass on the above average talent Lad since it seems like he'll get grab either way. I'm iffy on the normal talented lad.
Aside from his admittedly regal-looking beard, what draws an equal amount of praise is the massive form of his Griffon friend, clad in the armour Dolgi had made for him, hauling a massive cart absolutely laden with Runic equipment. Fine chests of axes, hammers and picks, racks on racks of Gromril Armour that bear the heraldry of Clan Silvereyes and a massive banner that bears the Clan's emblem.
The sheer display of wealth is enough to make Clan Skorriling and Clan Silvereyes erupt in raucous cheers. The former because of the great honour such a feat brings, and the latter because that was clearly enough equipment to equip every adult in the Clan.
You sniff once in approval, done in such a way that Dolgi catches sight of it.
