Winning Vote:
[X] Plan The Forge and the Spring
-[X] [Simple] Apprentice work: [Cost: 1 apprentice action] Can be taken multiple times. Roll for usefulness. Your young charges are now of an age you feel it acceptable for them to do a bit of exploration. Send your apprentices out into the hold and pick up a few tasks from whoever offers it to them. Give them a bit of experience for their upcoming trial as journeymen and let them build a reputation in the hold. You'll of course critique their work and use it as a learning experience as any good master ought to. 2 Apprentice Actions
-[X] Spring Water: [Cost: (4 -2) =2 actions] Student of the Odd will proc and Soul of the Earth will proc. The Springs of Valaya, which is certainly less offensive than calling them her "vents", is a source of rejuvenating water useful for the recuperation of injured dwarfs. They're fine with you taking samples to study to see if they're good for a potential Rune. Easier to just grab a barrel and bring it to the temple there instead of digging through muck and filtering it you suppose. 3 Actions
--[X] Church Commission: [Cost: +3 actions to cost] Student of the Odd will proc. The Clergy of Valaya is very interested in understanding how useful the water is on its own. They've confirmed the basics, that it's safe for dwarfs to use, it works etc, but they're far too busy with other tasks and duties in the wake of reconstruction and managing the wounded from the campaign to devote time towards it. They're willing to reimburse you for the time to figure it out yourself.
-[X] [Difficult] Zharrgal, Golden/Worthy/Valuable Fire, Smith's Hammer, Pt 1: [Cost: 1 action] An idea has come to you, a beautiful thing of Craft. A smith's hammer, its head Adamant and blazing with runes, and its haft good Silver Wutroth reinforced with Adamant rings studded with sapphires and wrapped in Elder Shardwyrm hide for grip. It will draw power from deep beneath the roots of Kraka Drakk and bring it forth to bless your works, and smite your enemies. 1 Action
- [X] Theme: "To draw up and channel the power of your mountain into your forge and your enemies", Use whatever appropriate upgrade ingredients that we have.
Retainer Vote:
[X] Plan: The Hearthwardens
-[X] Name: The Hearth Guard
-[X] Emblem: The outline of a mountain surrounding a hearth with a fire in it, a dwarf with an axe standing before it protectively.
-[X] Aesthetic: Armour should have similar aesthetics to Barak Azamar, using plate construction and knotwork to make the dwarves resemble craggy mountains. Helmets feature pure gromril-tipped goat horns. The dwarves wear ruby-coloured cloaks lined with white fur.
-[X] Composition: Write-in: Eclectic Weaponry, Eclectic Skills
--[X] A necessary requirement of a Hearthwarden is that they be an excellent warrior, of course. But as you look at the devastation caused by the demonic Incursion throughout the North, and the challenges it still faces, you see that more will be needed. You envision your guard as a group you can send to render aid to the Dawi of the North, wherever they are needed. As such, you look for not just combat ability but for useful additional skills as well. Followers of Valaya and Gazul, to heal the injured and lay to rest the honoured dead. Longbeards of wisdom and calm persuasion, to soothe tempers and defuse Grudges before they form. Expert search-and-rescue tunnelers. Rangers with knowledge of the beasts of the North, who can guide your guard to hunt down dangers. Above all, the members of your guard will share your determination to protect dawi - all dawi - from anything that would harm them.
--[X](Soulcake: Retinue will consist of mixed arms combatants with variety of secondary noncombat skills. Non-traditional and slightly uncommon, greater variance in arms, harder to equip. Slightly slower recruitment.)
-[X] Number: Write-in: 60
-[X] Recruitment: Universal recruitment.
--[X] As much as you would like to keep your guard composed of dawi known to you and linked by blood, the purpose you envision requires you draw from the widest available pool. Their dedication to your shared purpose will unite them beyond any clan disputes, and you will make sure of that.
.193 A.P.
You send your apprentices off with a grunt and the pertinent information, trusting them to meet with the clients they found and not to shame themselves in public. You watch them go until they are but specks in the distance, then close the door to your workshop and call your retainers to you.
As one they file in, twenty dwarf elders in Gromril Armour that burn with the power of Runes, their beards or plaits whiter than snow and long enough to need wrapping or braiding lest they drag along the floor. The veterans of countless battles, the best warriors of Clan Winterhearth and founts of wisdom and grumbling for their younger kin.
They are children before you. Nieces, nephews, grandnieces, and grandnephews you've seen grow from bumbling youth to the respectable members of society they are now.
You stare all of them in the eye, these kin of yours who have sworn themselves to fight, to serve, to
die on your behalf, and burn their faces into your mind like a scalding brand on flesh.
Rudil, Vikken, Bottri, boys you've seen bicker and fight amongst each other now standing stiller than statues, eyes focused on you. Sifna and Grunna, lasses who braided the other's plaits and hucked bags of limestone dust at each other in equal measure, now women whose hair was as white as that same powder and longer than they were once tall. Bardin, Ulthuar, Thyk, Thori, Zammin, Sven, Storri, Storri, another Storri, Starki and many more besides, all have stories, memories associated with them. For a second they are replaced by the diminutive youths of your past, hair dark and eyes wide with wonder before reality asserts itself. A part of you recoils at the thought of sending one, no,
all of them to their deaths because of some mistake, error or, perhaps most terrifying for you, because it was the most
correct choice for the situation at hand. The rest accepts the consequences with grim resolve, swearing to see their lives not be put to waste.
"I won't waste your time with dread news and grim warnings, all of you are well aware, or at least you ought to be, of the dangers and sacrifice involved. Instead, I will tell you that the trials to come will be more than battle, more than guarding key positions and conflict against our foes because more than just Gori or the kazaki-dum assail us. Illness, Inexperience, a lack of Wisdom, the very forces of
nature are foes we must overcome. I have agreed to take you under me not only because of your skill at arms but because each of you understands that as well as I do. Each of you possesses skill in some measure capable of dealing with these other enemies, and above all else, you all are willing and able to see these wrongs put to rights. You twenty are only the beginning, the base and foundation of a group I would see properly equipped to face any disaster or woe that befalls our people and see it mended. A group that does more than slay our foes and gathers reagents for me. You will be a shield, not just for the body, but for the mind, the very heart and the
souls of our people wherever you go. Should any of you know of dwarfs of similar character and skill who are receptive to the call I will have you send out in seven days, feel free to inform me whenever you wish. Otherwise, you may return to your duties," you rumble out, tone final.
As one they leave, silent and contemplative of the information you've just dumped onto their laps, but unbowed by the challenge you've laid before them. You need not convince or cajole them into anything, the lessons of Clan Winterhearth and simple experience have proved you right. You need not do anything, no need to temper or hammer them into shape because they are not beardlings in need of instruction and guidance. They are, to stretch the metaphor further, fully-formed pieces simply being put to use.
They will not fail.
...
True to your word the call is sent out, through the voices of your retainers who dutifully and diligently inform not just various key dwarfs in the Karak who can better disseminate such information to their subordinates, but also by passing on a word or two to the right gossip or big mouth whose circles and social networks are wide enough that even the most curmudgeonly hermit will hear of your tale. Soon enough there is likely no dwarf in the Karak that does not know of your intent and desire, and you will doubtlessly begin receiving dwarfs with who your message resonates strongly and whose skills are of sufficient quality to be taken aboard.
Or at least you privately hope so.
In the meantime, you'd best get started on your research.
.195 A.P.
Master Yorri finds his way into your workshop on a summer's eve, satisfied with the rate of Joll's recovery enough that he can dedicate some time to check on you.
Not that you have much time to spare unfortunately, having taken the Temple of Valaya up on their offer to investigate the properties of the spring water. Equal parts curiosity and desiring to repay the Temple for their part in helping you with the limb project if you had to be honest with yourself.
Still, the liqui-
You duck, dodging the flying slab of mouth meat and turn to glare at your master.
"Teach the boy all he knows and he ignores me does he?" your master's voice echoes through the workshop, hidden from even your own well-honed senses.
Your eyes scan the racks on racks of arms and legs, fitted properly to their respective patrons and only missing the Rune that would animate them. Then through the stacks of papers, requests and comments from the dwarfs those limbs were meant for before you catch sight of your master's cloak over by a sack of toys ready for delivery later in the day.
You squint then shake your head. The classic False Cloak Maneuver, you wouldn't be falling for that old trick. You throw a rock in that direction regardless, having experienced the even more classic False Cloak Double Bluff Maneuver to ensure the old goat doesn't think you've gone soft.
"Master I have research to do! I don't have time for this!" You shout into the seemingly empty Room, with Snerra, Fjolla and Dolgi off on their own business.
You duck again, narrowly avoiding another tongue aimed for your head.
"Bah!"
…
(Roll, Karstah: 61)
"Here's your commission," Karstah says, motioning towards a cart laden with Runic Equipment, an entire Ranger's ensemble, save for the armour, inscribed with Runes.
For Ullna it represents the fruits of a great deal of saving, as well as a bout of good luck having found and slain four massive Sabretusks and saving the life of the daughter of a Thane during her training. The equipment she'd commissioned from the windfall was an investment and sign to any dwarf that she can support herself despite her status as a Clanless foundling. For Karstah it's a commission made for one of the few dwarfs she's kept in contact with since leaving the Temple's Foundling Ward.
"How many years left before you go on your own Trial Karstah?" Ullna asks in a rather stilted attempt at being conversational. Decades out in the wilderness training as a ranger doing little to hone her already weak social skills.
Karstah takes it in stride, having known her since their days in the foundling wards. Oddballs the both of them, one too angry for her own good and the other just a bit too quiet.
"'Bout four decades now, maybe if I'm learning at the same rate as Elder Dolgi, nevermind Lady Fjolla or Snerra. I doubt it though," Karstah responds just a bit glumly.
"A few more decades of learning means little I believe. Most would reckon it a fair trade considering who you're learning under no? Being capable of Runesmithing, let alone being an apprentice under the Gift Giver himself, it is a great honour," Ullna says, patting her on the shoulder.
"Aye, aye, I reckon that's true enough," Karstah admits.
"I am glad you see sense. Perhaps a commemorative outing before I am to leave for my trial? Have you any free time this month?" Ullna offers.
Karstah hums for a moment, wracking her mind before nodding with a bit of hesitance.
"Aye, aye I could do that I reckon. Twenty days from now? I won't have too many lessons then on account of Master Snorri being out on business."
"It's settled then," Ullna agrees with a nod.
…
Yorri sniffs from the barrel beside you.
"Hmmph, so that's the lass you took on then?" he eventually mutters.
"What of it? She was worthy and she had the drive for it, her Gift alone marks her as kin regardless of my actions," you ask, turning to face your elder with a raised brow.
Yorri stares at you, gaze inscrutable before he shakes his head with a grin.
"Nothing at all lad, come on now let's see how your other student's doing before that ...terrifying woman of a High Priestess chews into me over Joll's behaviour," your master says with a grunt as he gets up from his reconnaissance spot and starts walking.
You take a last look at Karstah, make a note to clear her and Nain's schedule twenty days from now, and follow Yorri.
.196 A.P.
Seven Thanes, as one, kneel before the King. They are all young, barely past their second century, but bear the countenance necessary for their station. Each and every last one wears the ancestral armour of their clans, gilded gold and made in the symmetrical and angular design of Zorn. The seven of them are arrayed in a pyramid, arranged by the rankings of their Clan. The six below are an eclectic mix of Clans, all tied by bonds of blood and oaths of service to the Clan of the lead Thane, one of ancient and noble lineage.
Otrek sits on his throne across from them, ever the image of a stoic king, and accepts their fealty with noble poise and grace.
Internally, his mind wheels with the implications and consequences of his actions. The act of going through the ceremony on rote memory and the smallest fraction of his attention that he could manage as was appropriate. All of this pageantry was rehearsed, the oaths spoken of and agreed upon months in advance. The very decoration and aesthetics of the Throne changed just for this occasion, seven new spots for seven new shields to adorn the pillars of the throne room. As king this was his duty, as king it was his burden, his choice, to take on these Dawi.
The ire of distant Zorn be damned, much as he grimaces reading their letters and official missives, the boon and aid offered could not be laid to waste. Let Tungaz bellow his displeasure for he had not a leg moral nor legal to stand on, and a king who could not inspire the confidence or loyalty of his subjects must suffer the consequences of his actions.
He looks at them, the Thanes who were currently reciting the far laxer oaths of Kraka Drakk, at least in comparison to the near-total binding oaths of Zorn.
Seven Clans, each hundreds strong, have joined themselves to Kraka Drakk. The Miners of Clans Gorltrommal, Gildedbrow and Rilsson, warriors and smiths from clan Diamondbeard and Copperhelm, Jewellers from the Donarlings and the most most significant addition to the hold, and who the previous six Clans followed here, the nobles of Clan Drongrungron, whose folk had since married a daughter of Smednir and so claimed kinship with Grungni, solidifying their ancient pedigree with more modern foundations and strictures.
And the source of the most grumbling from King Tungaz.
Otrek cannot fool himself, for all his Hold's success he knows full well that a significant reason for their choice to move here was the Runelord who'd come here all those decades ago. The same Runelord he dearly wished to discuss things with, to get a better read on the situation on Zorn than his diplomats and Clan could find.
Such as it is, he must work with what he is given, and he will not fail,
cannot fail. He would not sully Kraka Drakk's legacy so by having her first king create a diplomatic incident on such a scale.
A faint whisper echoes in the back of his mind, a memory he refuses to release, the thought reminds him of the weight of the ring that dangles from his neck on an unadorned steel chain. The relic and heirloom needing no filigree to prove it's value.
…
(Roll, Nain: 93 +15[Omake] =108)
He is alone at the bar today, not that he minds. It is a rare lull in Nain's otherwise hectic and busy life that he cherishes for the short amount of time he has it. Around him the bar bustles with patrons, mostly fellow apprentices, talking amongst themselves.
Nain patiently waits for the barkeep to turn his attention to him, busy as he was, talking to some Longbeards who came earlier.
"What can I get you?" A woman's monotonous voice says, knocking Nain out of his musing.
He looks up to see a head of light brown hair and pale, half-lidded, blue eyes staring at him. The Barkeep's apprentice stares back impassively.
"One tankard of Hearthbrew thank you," he says quietly.
She nods and walks off, but just as Nain begins turning his head back down a thump to his left followed by a pat on his shoulder make him look to see who'd come over.
He expects Karstah, Borrek, hell even Bronn, but he did not expect to see the grinning visage of his client.
"Hello there Lightfoot! Me boy" Borri Steelfist rumbles in his thick, almost incomprehensible accent. Rust coloured beard spread wide, revealing the small natural gaps in his teeth.
" 'lo there Borri," Nain says with a calm wave and firm nod.
"A fine piece of work that was eh? Oh we showed that no good,
unkempt, Krut for brains of a wazzock Okri Ironbite just how good I can be thanks to your help!" Borri says as he gets comfortable in the seat beside him.
"It was fine work," Nain says wholeheartedly, turning to thank the waitress who's come back with his drink.
"Ach, you got the tongue of a skald Lightfoot," Borri says with a grin, "Still, that was a damn fine piece of work yeah? How about I commission you for another piece once you've become a Journeymen yeah? It doesn't feel proper that I leave this debt be after all. Whadaya say?"
Nain stares at Borri for a long while, running the idea over his mind.
Borri wasn't necessarily a bad fellow, far from it actually. Aye, he could swear like a Longbeard, aggravated folks with his manner of speech and otherwise didn't appear at all like the second son of one Dammin Thurgromsson of the famed Clan Ironjaw. It was a thing Borri often joked about actually, saying his talent was the only thing that confirmed his ties to the bloodline of Guildmaster Gormak, but he was one of the few dwarfs who did not compare him to his cousin. Which, while not really a point of soreness for him by now, was a welcome reprieve all the same. He's not sure what he's done to earn the curmudgeonly but well-intentioned dwarf's goodwill, but he's not one to turn away an offer of friendship.
"Alright then, I'll hold you to it then," he says, proffering his hand.
.197 A.P.
The door of your workshop never truly remains closed for long these days. A steady, if small, stream of messengers, crippled veterans, and apprentices was now interspersed by a very, very small trickle Longbeards who thought they had what it took to be part of The Hearthguard. Not that many really, mayhaps three a year at most.
Of that number, only seven had been found with the skills you sought. Two were prospectors, elders with faces looking like they'd been hewn from the rockface of the mountains, and whose skill at diffusing arguments and offering well won wisdom was second only to their skill with the pickaxes they bore. Five had been rangers, dwarfs of a grim appearance but were well known for their efforts in the hunting and finding of dwarfs who'd gone missing in the wilds of the north. One had even been sent with a letter of recommendation from Brokk vouching for his skill in tracking as well as a calm demeanour.
It was a scrap of paper you found tied to a quarrel embedded in your door.
"Quiet, half-decent with a bow and the nose of a Sabretusk, take him if you want."
With such a sterling recommendation, you took on the fellow after having run him through his paces, before going off to send Brokk the bill for the damage to your door.
They were to a dwarf, all once fullbeards who'd originally come north due in no small part to your actions in their youth. Aye you'd not seen their faces that often, but names? Names you do not forget. Clans hailing from your home, names of parents that you remember dropping off stacks of toys to hand to their children, little similarities that remind you of the fresh faces of dwarfs you saw all those years ago. Aged, wizened, tempered by time and hardship, and coming out better in spite of the danger thrown at them.
Only another reason to keep them alive you reckon.
But compared to the three dwarfs in front of you, they were positively mundane. Heavily armed in gear bearing the glow of Runes, some you made, others you haven't, are three of the most serenely calm matrons you've seen. You glance at the helms they have tucked under their arms, and internally boggle at what you see.
There is no mistake, especially considering the Rune that burns right on the forehead of each helm reverently recreated in homage to the warhelm of the goddess your own Clan held a special place for.
Valkyrie Guard, former Valkyrie Guard by the snow-white plaits and badge of service they bore on them.
As the literal Shield
Maidens that defended the temples of Valaya, the Valkyrie Guard served either for life or until they decided to find a man worth their time and bear children. In the case of the latter, these former warrior clerics were offered the chance to become priestesses of Valaya in full and continue their service to the Ancestors in a more domestic fashion. After a bit of conversation with all three, you find that behind their calm masks is a burning passion to take the fight to the enemies of Valaya and Dwarfkind that has not been fully tamped out.
Too motherly for the Karinnzaki and too bellicose for the Thryngazi, as they put it. These three came here after learning about your growing group from Moira. A Valkyrie Guard rarely left the hold, but they trained as diligently as any warrior or Huskarl. These shieldmaidens learned the art of healing and death in equal measure, embodying Valaya The Shieldmaiden's righteous fury and unbreakable will in the defence of her home and kin.
You'd be a fool to send them away.
.200 A.P.
He is quite literally, drowning in good fortune.
A double-headed axe to be sure.
The odds, the sheer blessing of having all five of his children having the gift is...is preposterous! But the hammer does not lie, and the celebratory beer is not taken out on a whim. His little girls, unlike his son, received far more offers to train. The newest crop of Masters finally coming onto the age where they would take on apprentices of their own, which he too was soon approaching. It is a difficult thing to decide on a list of Masters that best suited each of his children. Temperament, skill, personality, all these things had to be taken into account as Master Snorri once taught him.
A Master and an apprentice ought to be like a hammer and a nail lad. You don't go using a hammer on a bolt now do you? The bolt is stunted and the hammer cannot do their task adequately. Think carefully on who you trust to take on your children's education and of the youngster you would take on yourself in the future.
Sound advice, just like everything else Master Snorri taught him.
A knock sounds on Dolgi's door, and he diligently comes over to open it.
"Hell-" Dolgi begins to say before being cut off by a face full of paper.
"Elder Dolgi! I've come to ask if I may train your twin girls! If you need proof of my skill I have evidence proving my capability! May I come in?" Snerra says, waving a stack of parchment in his face.
Blinking owlishly, Dolgi moves to let her in.
Well, he thinks,
that solves that.
.202 A.P.
Your work on the Spring Water is done at last, having taken far longer with Yorri constantly badgering you and Joll scaring the living lamplight out of you, internally of course, every time he popped up out of somewhere to inform you of something respectfully as if he'd simply walked through the door instead of appearing out from a barrel. The boy can't be that good, you're all but certain that Master Yorri is aiding him and mayhaps outright egging him on out of some twisted sense of humour.
Regardless! Despite the distractions, your research on the Spring Water has revealed some rather startling insights.
The water itself is empowered by the Rune of Valaya, which wasn't too much of a surprise, but there was a very curious reaction between the Rune and the liquid itself in certain circumstances. For one thing, once cut off from a continuous source, the liquid lost its healing properties.
But when placed in a container that bore a Rune of Valaya?
The effect persisted in a weakened state for some time before fading completely. The fact that it endured was what interested you most. Further testing had provided even more interesting data, the specific properties of the liquid could be made to last longer depending on the Runes on the container itself. A rune of healing or fortitude, things that had no real place on something like a keg, being far too weak to imbue healing properties into whatever was inside like what the Master Rune of Vitality could do for curative brews. Not that the Rune needed such a medium to work of course.
And since you didn't know the method of inscribing that Master Rune nor had an item possessing it, you were left with Regular Runes to experiment with.
But to get back to the point, the liquid's various curative and restorative properties could be individually lengthened with the right Rune. Healing for its minor regenerative qualities, Warding for its ability to stave of sickness if ingested and so on and so forth. Still, the liquid would eventually lose those properties without being reunited with a continuous fresh source of itself, even with the Runes preventing its decay, it did not last long enough for any campaign of note. These findings, obviously redacted to remove any Runesmith secrets, and the general data you gathered were handed to the Temple by your apprentices.
Of course, that wasn't all you did during these past few years, in between periods of waiting during your experiments with the Spring Water, teaching your apprentices, getting to know your retainers, dealing with Yorri and Joll, as well your other host of duties expected of you to perform, you were working on your own more personal project.
As of late, you've found yourself contemplating the properties of your armour, the visions you witnessed, and its overall purpose. A means to defend yourself, provide you a level of sheer endurance and durability that is usually reserved for a Gronti Duraz rather than a regular flesh and blood dwarf.
But more than that, the image of a spinning globe returns to your mind's eye every so often.
A thousand acts of creation and destruction done across a place vaster, more long-lived than any living thing can see in their lifetime. A timescale counted in eons, not years.
It was during one such occasion that you decided to scratch this seeming itch of yours.
Something that was both a tool of creation and destruction in equal measure. All Dwarf weapons were such to begin with, the hammer, the axe, the pick, the crossbow all things used for more than war making. But weapon Runes, or at least the ones you knew, did not seem to care overly much for the former.
So you challenge yourself in a new way, perhaps for the first time in a good long time. To create a Rune array that did more than provide a more deadly weapon, but also create a greater tool than what could be managed by mundane means. Something to aid, but obviously not replace, the skill of the crafter. Not a Rune of Cutting on a Master Crafted chisel, no not something that humble. You wished to test yourself, and your mind knew where that would take you.
You were not those vaunted masters, who could make works of legend with nothing but a hammer, forge and few bars of steel, but giving such dwarf tools not befitting their talent left you ill at ease.
Of course, there was an entire debate to be had about what constituted the
right tool, but no one disagreed with the general notion.
Just because a Master could make wonders with a half-broken chisel didn't mean they
wanted to after all.
…
Bara stared down at the bar of metal before her, around her stacks on stacks of notes were carefully organized into neat piles.
The armour gleamed silver-white.
She knew, without a doubt now, that there was something here. Taking a mug to her mouth, she gulps the reinvigorating ale deeply and greedily before setting the now empty container down.
Weighing the options in her mind for what feels like an age, she eventually resolves to come to a decision.
She'll polish off her theory, then go ask a certain Runelord a few questions.
Khazalid Trivia
Gor/Gori - Beastmen
Kazaki-dum - Forces/Warriors of Chaos
Gorltrommal - Goldenbeards
Drongrungron - Thunderforge
Karinnzaki - Shieldmaiden
Thryngazi - Cleric or Priest
Gain:
- Zhargall Pt. 1 Complete! A tool of creation, a weapon of destruction, capable of both.
-- New Rune Combo Unlocked! Makerstrike: [Master Rune of Conduction, Rune of Smednir, Rune of Thungni]: [The weapon's molten hot blows vaporize flesh, progressively weakening the armour and weapons it strikes, and outright burns or melts sufficiently poor craftsmanship. The tool guides the bearer who wields it, so that his craft has improved toughness and durability while Runes struck with it last longer.] Fire, heat, flame,
energy. Through it the Smith and his sons have made wonders no mortal mind can equal and weapons that are too terrible to behold. Creation and destruction in equal measure.
- Spring Water complete! The healing springs of Valaya are, as you suspected,
indeed improved by Valaya's Rune. While the liquid itself has no use in any Runes(that you know of), it's interaction with not only the Rune of Valaya, but other related Runes has shed a great deal of insight in regards to that Rune's properties.
-- [Tier 2] Rejuvenating Spring Water x∞ has no uses in any Runes you yet know.
-- The liquid does not retain its properties if not in contact with a constant stream of more spring water.
-- The Rune of Valaya slows down this decay, interactions with regular Runes related to healing, rejuvenation and such have odd effects on the liquid.
-- +2 Progress to Understand Valaya's Runes, new totals: [Cost: (12 -2) =10 actions]
- Recruitment gains for The Hearthguard:
-- +3 Former Valkyrie Guard
-- +2 Longbeard Miners
-- +5 Longbeard Rangers
AN:
Here's your doot. Fun fact, I imagine Borri having a thick scottish accent. Just before midnight my time! Please enjoy it, and don't forget to C&C, I'll get to editing it in the morning when I wake up. Thanks for sticking with me for *looks* almost 1000 pages! :^)
