She Who Must Not be Trifled With
The Unseen University thrummed with the marching of students through its halls, minor displays of psycic power running amongst their seemingly unending masses. Guards watched them with beady eyes ready to strike at the smallest necessity, elder students who had passed their trials stood proudly above their smaller and inexperienced juniors, grizzled and scared teachers strode amongst them, reprimanding and encouraging according to their personal style of education. All this, a well oiled machine that took in those with extraordinary abilities and brought forth crafters, fighters and most importantly scholars.
For the Unseen University was called a university with good reason, it was a place where new discoveries into the nature of the warp and psychic abilities were discovered nearly everyday and every psyker who graduated hoped to contribute to it, from the lowliest Sanctionite to the Highest Grandmaster.
In this case Munstrum Ridcully of Lancre.
The master of divination, the founder of their entire institute was usually regarded with a high degree of awe by the body of the University. Not like Tamia who ruled the department of Studies with her inexhaustible energy, or Xavier whose legend was burned into the Trust through hellfire. Not even like Aria whose presence comforted and terrified all psykers in her presence in equal measure.
No due to his unmatched abilities, extraordinary deeds and relative isolation from the hustle and bustle of the institution he had created he was treated with reverence. Of course this illusion would have tarnished quickly had they known that many of his reasons for not participating were due to inability, but in this moment that hardly matters.
What does matter is that it was rare for someone to approach Ridcully asking for aid, at least in such a direct manner.
Yet even in the aftermath of an incursion the quest for knowledge marched onwards as the Mechanicus might say, so Po Stubs, one of Avernus's best diviners, knocked quietly on the Grandmaster's door at precisely 1300 hours, having passed through over a dozen layers of security that he knew of and another eight that the Eldar bodyguards had installed without his knowledge.
"Enter!"
The booming voice of the Grandmaster echoed through the Door as Po thumbed the activation stud, finding the Grandmaster busily chewing on a ration bar to replenish his energy, his divinatory skills in constant demand to keep up with the cultist uprisings currently ongoing across Avernus.
"So, you want something of me Po? Well spit it out then!"
Bowing lightly Po nodded, used to Ridcully's abrupt manner, having been taught by him during the last stages of his initiation into the ranks of the Order of Omens.
"Yes, sir. I've been given permission by Master Kurzmann to test out one of my tracking techniques. Do you remember sir, the one that relies on relative closeness and…"
"Personal familiarity...yes I do." Ridcully interrupted and stroked a hand through his beard deep in thought. "Able to get around the relationship bond problem then?"
Po nodded slightly, it had been an issue that had taken nearly a century to puzzle out. "Yes sir. The addition of a rite formula combined with memories should let the Order work the ritual nearly as well as having a person with a true connection." He was quite proud of it after the initial trials had come up successful, although it was likely that this was going to be on a scale far larger than anything they'd attempted before.
"Alright then, what do you need me for! Go do it then."
At that Po hesitated, wondering if the High Grandmaster had seen this conversation already and was only participating in it to place him at ease or whether he wanted to be surprised. It didn't matter probably, but when dealing with diviners of this level the amount of mental gymnastics one could engage in was staggering.
"I wanted to know if there was anyone you wanted to locate sir?"
It was a long shot and he knew it, but curiosity and a desire to do something for Ridcully drove him onwards. The University knew only the public information on Munstrum Ridcully, a sanctioned psyker of the Imperium, educated at the Lancre Schola Psynastaka, the most skilled diviner of his generation who had eventually been sent to Avernus to start a new Schola there.
But, anyone from that life before was long gone in all likelihood and he seemed not to even care.
He'd expected the Grandmaster to laugh, or scoff, but to his surprise Ridcully's face fell into a grim expression as his wrapped vision stared blankly into the distance, looking at or remembering something so far in the distance that it was inconceivable until at last he spoke again, his voice almost cracking.
"Yes...yes there is someone."
Po sat there stock still, daring not even to breath.
"She was the best of us." Lost still in remembrance he sighed deeply, his mind brushing Po's who let him inside immediately as Ridcully projected the image of a tall woman, staring down at him with a look of utter disapproval on her face, glaring with a stare so intense he felt like he was being flensed by daggers.
"Her name was Esmerelda Weatherwax and she was magnificent."
The image shifted as it spun through dozens of times and places, each one more impressive than the last. A convoy of Eldar collapsed on the ground, lost in illusions. An army throwing down their weapons and cowering in fear, students and young psykers rescued from the jaws of corruption by a brutal talking too.
"She gave people what the needed...not what they thought they wanted."
An Inquisitor made to regret the actions that he had taken, the man who would doom a sector becoming its greatest defender thanks to her actions, a Priest of Mars convinced to change a small part of a design to save a million lives, a priest of the Emperor placing away their golden crown and devote themselves to doing their duty, saving them from a self destructive lethargy.
"She seems like she was an extraordinary person."
"Yes...I've never met her like not even in all this time. and then we were separated. I didn't even have time to say goodbye properly. It wasn't planned and my appearance here was rushed like so much near the end, but I went to Avernus and then he died. Its been a thousand years she's probably long gone by now. But, I just never had time…"
He looked Po straight in the eyes and the soul. "Find her for me if you can. It'd put that business at last to rest at least."
Armed with the memories Po rushed to the ritual room on Roke island, eagerly sharing them with the rest of his team as they settled into the ritual circle, the divination room shining between their combined might as the technique they used was amplified by the conductive materials and runes that lined it.
Brightening they pushed their sight from mere mortal flesh and were dragged onwards on a thread of connection, pulled inexorably onwards towards the person upon whom they focused all their attention and knowledge. The long gone friend of their beloved teacher and headmaster.
And then they were back, suddenly and without a lead in, pushing into their bodies with gasps and cries, their minds filled with only a single demand.
"Tell him I ain't dead."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The tides of the warp curled around his blinded eyes as he veered in upon the somber familiar frequency left within his students minds, placed there secretly and securely in a fashion she had taught him to recognise long ago. An assurance that it was in fact her, not some imposter or doppelganger.
He wasn't certain he was convinced, he had spied the Changeling after all, he knew just how effective Chaos could be at hiding or pretending to be others, but he could not help, but hope. It was a dim thing, it had been over 1000 years for her and while he had lived on Avernus she would have had to live through the downfall of the Imperium, the birth of the Abomination and more besides…
And so he tried to crush that small flame of hope, as he walked onwards through the warp, his blind eyes staring through the chaos towards a space station hurtling through the immaterium, its geller fields flaring while within it was an army of psykers brought together in choire, channeling daemonology to keep the Daemons away.
Souring in close he stared in open awe at his home.
Lancre.
Not the planet itself, but the fortress that formed the bulk of the Psynastakana and the city of Baidert which had grown up around it from Lancre's physically active people, that was here. He barely needed his postcognition to reshuffle the buildings and place them where they should have been in his youth as he settled in the cavernous courtyard of the Fortress, the entire area feeling bare without it immense Aquilla that had once dominated it.
As he watched taking in the movement of students and the thrum of the warp he felt a sharp tap on his shoulder, despite his form being made of pure spirit.
Spinning around in a panic he was transfixed to the ground by the sight before him.
Not tall, but possessing an aura that made her seem to tower over him like he was a child, dressed in a black robe with a steely glare that burrowed into him and made its nest within his mind he looked once more on Esmerelda Weatherwax, her face lined with wrinkles, but very much alive, hale and healthy.
Before he could say a word he found himself pulled into a tight embrace, one that he eagerly reciprocated, content to know that his friend was still alive after all this time, leaving behind the worries of the galaxy, the Trust and his life behind and just enjoying being reunited with someone he had long since resigned to death.
Eventually Esme and drew back and coughed awkwardly into her hand before straightening her back to examine him closely as he shifted awkwardly under the magnifying lens of her perception.
"Yes...well. You've changed Munstrum…"
"Mmm. You as well Esme."
To his relief she did not scold him when he called her by that name. Only a few had ever been allowed to do it. But, while that hadn't changed the woman herself certainly had. It wasn't simply the physical age, it was the weight of experience and the trials held within her form.
"Well you better come with me then, else the youngins think I've finally lost the plot. I'd offer you some tea, but I think you might have some trouble with it in your current state."
Chuckling slightly he followed her as she led him through the winding confusing corridors of Lancre until at last arriving at what he assumed were Esme's personally quarters, the small area perfectly, organised and in its proper place as only Esmerelda Weatherwax could manage.
Settling down in an old felt chair across from Esme's own high backed wooden one he jumped as he felt a soft pawing at his leg as a fluffy red cat that purred gently against his leg, touching his soul stuff much like Esme herself had.
"Ignore Greebo, he's my familiar."
With a snap of her fingers the cat dutifully leapt onto its mistress's lap and curled up, purring softly while she rolled her eyes at his raised eyebrow.
"I seem to recall a young friend of mine once loudly proclaiming that she'd never have a familiar? Something about not being worth the effort."
His grin must have been coming through quite strongly as she scoffed at him.
"That was a very long time ago Munstrum...a very very long time."
He looked around the room, the pair of windows opening outwards, one showing a large arboretum garden, the other the swirling geller field of the flying city.
"No kidding. The frak happened Esme? How did you survive?"
"I'd ask the same of you Munstrum."
She pointed a single finger at him, before shrugging. "To give the simplified version to save time, after the Imperium fell the Agatean Sector went to the dogs immediately. Lancre was saved from this fate thanks to the current King having a good head on his shoulders and being willing to listen to advice so we had relative peace for a while. Eventually I took over for Grandmaster Spoilder" -"May he rest in piece"- "May he rest in piece. As I was saying, I took over for him and started formulating an escape plan just in case."
Ridcully nodded grimly, well aware of the need to dig one's own tunnels by this stage. "And that was to make the entire place fly was it?"
"Precisely. Took some Archeotech boosters and a lot of work, but eventually we got it running. Needed it too, when the golden bastard was born. Took the entire lot of em before we could react."
An image in his mind unbidden, the cities of Lancre burning, genocide inflicted upon a people so frequently blessed and cursed with psycic powers, a golden Angyl standing above it all approvingly a worthy sacrifice of abhorent mutants for its dark master.
"We evacuated everyone we could and took to the stars. It's been...well its been the galaxy. We've come close to death more times than I can count, but I'd like to think we've survived well compared to some. What about you?"
"Mmm...well the short of that is...well this."
And so he launched into his own tale, speaking avidly of Avernus, the Trust, the Warpstorm and his current affairs while Esme sat there like a statue, silently processing everything he said, her mind and thoughts utterly inscrutable to him.
Once she had finished recounting the Trust's history she nodded succinctly. "Very well, inform your Trust" she waved her hand in a somewhat dismissive fashion "that the Lancre Psynastkana will be heading your way not that we weren't doing so already…"
"Wait Esme slow down!"
"Whatever for? Munstrum we were already heading in your direction. Rumours of the Dragon's Nest's resurgence reached our ears in recent years and we already decided to try them to see if they're safe harbour. There's not been much of that in recent centuries."
"Nobody?"
"Nobody. Rome was the closest anyone got to a major sane power in this region of Pacifus, and with its fall it's complete chaos. Your Vangrian Guard weren't the only ones to have to flee. It's only been close fortune and hard heads that have kept us alive for so long as it is."
They both lapsed into silence, her sipping at the tea and he in deep contemplation, before looking forwards back towards the Trust.
"I know better than to try and dissuade you...and I'd be overjoyed if you could make it. I can't do much...there's very little time and the path is dangerous..."
"I know that you worry wart. Let me get Lancre to you. Then we'll have time to properly catch up at least."
He wasn't sure about this. He couldn't estimate exactly how far Lancre was from the Trust, but he knew it was decades distant at a minimum...but he knew it would be pointless to try and dissuade her.
"Very well Esme...I'll try and keep in contact as best I can."
As his astral form discorporated, flooding back to his corporeal body with a jolt, finding a message lodged within his mind, a formal greeting to the High Council...and a personal one for him.
Esmerelda Weatherwax
Age: 1572 Rejuv to 40s
M-11-Granny Weatherwax maybe a skilled fighter, but she has left command to others, prefering to advise for the most part.
I-15+37=52-While incredibly gifted in stealth due to her past, her intrigue abilities lie primarily in her ability to gather information and manipulate others into doing her bidding.
A-9+1=10-Although she gained a certain level of ability running Lancre, her bond with Greebo has deteriorated it significantly as keeping the warp spawn in check requires a significant amount of her concentration.
D-13+24=37-While for most her utter stubbornness would be a detriment for Granny Weatherwax it is instead gives her blatant and aggressive charisma that when combined with her perfect knowledge of the psyche and ability to hide her nature as a psyker makes her deft and skillful negotiator with any party.
L-16+14=30-Although not her primary focus she is well studied outside of psycic areas and possessing an extremely advanced understanding of psycic abilities and the warp.
P-17+39=56-There are few beings that could touch Esmerelda Weatherwax's will and survive unscathed. Those that can must be feared.
C-14+20=34-While having grown into a skilled fighter, her preference for drawing on the skills of others to supplement them have ensured they are not as advanced as they might have been.
Power-23+17=40-While born a medium gamma, control and patience have expanded her power to more similar to a high gamma-low beta
Control-18+41:59-Only Ridcully's own is equal, her control almost entirely sublime with impossible precision.
Gamma level psyker- 23 Power, -10 Control, -5D, *12 Power Multiplier
Pure of Mind and Soul (+3 Control, +3P, resistant to demonic possession) – Esmerelda Weatherwax's mind and soul are pure and untainted despite the dark powers she can wield.
Perfectly Sane (+6 Control, +4D) – Despite the mind-breaking powers she wields, Esmerelda Weatherwax is perfectly sane unlike almost every other human psyker. In fact, if you didn't already know that she was a psyker, there is no way that you could tell from meeting her.
"Granny": (+ 10L +10I +10D +5D (with inhabitants of Lancre) +5P +5 Control +3 Power) Esmerelda Weatherwax has had a major role in the running of the Lancre Psynastakana since before the end of the Imperium following her retirement from the inquisition, and gained experience in a staggering number of roles since then while mentoring many of its best psykers. In many ways she's the grandmother to the entire institution.
Survivor of the End: (+5A +5I -3D +5C +5P +2Power +6Control less likely to be surprised by anything) Granny Weatherwax was already a few centuries old when the Imperium fell and she managed to keep Lancre together through it all, despite immense hardships and trials.
Mistress of Manipulation: (+12I +4D +80 to manipulate others) between her telepathy and her preferred style of diplomacy, Granny Weatherwax has grown into a master of getting others to do as she wishes with words alone.
Utterself Assurance: (+10 P +7 Control -4D +200 vs mental effects, chance to ignore negative effects and injuries, extremely stubborn) from a young age Granny Weatherwax was certain that she knew best and everyone else simply had to follow in her league. As she was usually right as well she also managed to survive. This self assurance and confidence bleeds into all aspects of her personality and life for better and worse.
Paragon of Telepathy (+5I, +4D, +2 Power, +10 Control, +120 to all Telepathy rolls, can use more powerful Telepathic effects)– Esmerelda Weatherwax's mastery of telepathy is unrivaled in Segmentum Pacifus. Entire worlds have been bent to her will and the defences of Greater Daemons shattered when she decides to utilize her vast capabilities.
Creator of Headology: (+5I +4L +8D +6A +6P +7C) Granny Weatherwax practises and preaches a lifestyle for psykers that she describes as "headology" or using one's common sense before their powers and trying to convince and trick non chaotic enemies first to save time and effort. Through this she espouses diversification, social skills and lack of reliance on abilities to better integrate with normal humans and has gained a wide skill set as a result.
Telepathy Paragon Trait: "Borrowing": (Can utilise the ability to borrow +100 to all borrowing attempts.) A branch of telepathy so far unique to Granny Weatherwax, the art of borrowing allows her to temporarily access the mind of another being to great effect surpassing traditional methods of doing so. In practise this can manifest through granting herself the abilities of others temporarily, or conversely sharing her own or other's abilities, providing coordination and guidance, altering another's mind on an incredibly intimate level and many many more. As her definition of what counts as an entity seems a bit skewed she has on occasion affected entire planets, bypassing the normal restrictions of being a gamma level psyker.
Intrigue Paragon Trait: Just Normal (Can completely hide nature as a psyker, can hide intrusion into others minds below paragon level.) In the course of developing her skills at infiltrating minds Granny Weatherwax has reached a point where she is nearly invisible when within another's head, to the point that she can make drastic alterations to them without them even noticing. At the same time her devotion to being self sufficient has led to her developing her skills at hiding her true nature, to the point that only when she uses them can anyone not in the know realise it.
Control Paragon Trait: All the Little Holes (Can bypass all mental defences below paragon, +200 to learning enemies skill sets, exploiting them and influencing their mental state.) Granny Weatherwax has grown very adept at infiltrating the minds of others through words and with her powers and can rapidly gather information from within them.
Piety Paragon Trait: What is Right (+600 to all mental influence checks, can turn mental influences on those who try to use them on her) Granny Weatherwax's will power and self assurance is such that she is not only incorruptible, but attempted intrusion or worse actual presence within her mind is actively dangerous for most, acting as a limited memetic effect that can influence even daemons with one particular example that made her infamous amongst the galaxy.
Greebo: "Corrupted" daemon familiar: (+10P +15control +10 Power +8 Combat -10A): Once an honoured Daemon of Khorne Greebo fell victim to Lady Weatherwax's impossibly potent borrowing ability and sheer force of personality. Its corruption was turned back upon itself when it attempted to turn her instead being changed and twisted by her into an ally. Now the renamed Greebo serves as her familiar, granting immense advantages and being an extraordinarily destructive force on the battlefield while earning her Khrone's utter hatred.
After making recontact with her, Munstrum Ridcully has provided as close to accurate dossier on Grandmaster Primaris Esmerelda "granny" Weatherwax as is possible, although it maybe lacking in details after the two seperated with his arrival on Avernus.
Regarded as one of the best students to come from the Lancre Schola Psynastkana Esmerleda Weatherwax made a name for herself initially on the Battle fields of the Imperium, but was recruited by Inquisitor Dibz of the Ordo Heretics and Sanctorum, serving with distinction therein until the Inquisitor's death.
Retired from that life she returned to Lancre as a teacher and reunited with her collegue Ridcully before he was dispatched to Avernus to create a new Psynastkana. Shortly after the Death of the Emperor occurred with Esmerelda Weatherwax at the forefront of keeping Lancre and the Agatean sector together, while simultaneously taking up the mantle of Grandmaster of Lancre.
Eventually the college was forced to flee, with the birth of the Abomination, the sector rapidly falling to its clutches and uniting to purge the "Witches and Mutans of Lancre."
While the majority of the planet was slain, as many as possible were evacuated in the now mobile Schola.
For centuries thereafter the psykers wandered the Stars much like Commander Julius, picking up refugees and occasionally settling down in polities brave enough to take their aid, but never able to remain in one place.
Rome was the last place they stayed in for more than a century, but its fall once again forced them onwards.
It was during this time that the now Granny Weatherwax made her name legend with the "corruption" of the Honoured Bloodthirster then known as Grebaituranius, a legendary hunter of Khorne whose servents had corrupted the roman province of Noricum, so that Khorne could drown the Dark Prince's new holding in blood.
Sensing that the Lancre psykers would make a worthy sacrifice to bring their lord physically into the materium, the slaves of blood launched an assault on the Schola, successfully capturing thousands before being driven off. When combined with the millions of already prepared sacrifices this would have been more than enough to complete the deed.
In an effort to save her people and students Lady Weatherwax attempted to halt the ritual on the world of Magdalensberg, successfully substituting the lives of the summoners for her psykers, a fatal flaw of Khorne's acceptance of any blood showing through.
The ritual was however completed, Grebaituranius emerged into the materium eager to corrupt the one who had unintentionally brought him forth and found Granny Weatherwax waiting for him, attempting only to delay him so that the full force of Lancre could be brought to bare upon him.
However she found herself trapped in a far more deadly gambit for she played on the overconfident daemon's pride, taunting it to face her in a battle of minds rather than body, insinuating that it would not because it had a feeble mind. The daemon accepted and a battle of wills occurred rather than a simply physical one as the Daemon tried to corrupt her to Khorne, mind body and soul.
In this contest she would lose in terms of raw power, but she had skill and endurance to spare, instead hiding herself within the daemon's own mind as she ransacked it while drawing it into devious traps within her consciousness, taring away at the daemon's existence and reshaping it while her mere presence changed it.
She could do nothing else, for she could not hope to kill it, or even meaningfully banish it, instead she hoped to make it catatonic, or brain dead.
Instead she twisted it.
Her force of personality combined with her feaverish editing of the Daemon's mind transformed Grebaituranius into something else, something so different to a Daemon of Khorne that it severed the ties between creator and created almost entirely, a new bond emerging between her and the now formless daemon.
This was the creation of Greebo, the cat that now serves as her faithful familiar and made her legend throughout Segmentum Pacifus.
Since then the forces of Khorne have hunted her people viciously, but still they endure through all the universe can throw at them.
Ridcully describes Esmerelda Weatherwax he knew as impossibly driven, confident and convinced that she knew what was right for everyone else with an attitude so aggressively against nonsense she might as well have been allergic to it. More often than not this caused her immense troubles, but as she was more often than not correct, she survived and grew.
The Granny Weatherwax he so recently rediscovered retains many of the traits of his old friend, but is much wiser and more experienced, having lost none of her fiery passion or confidence, but has tempered it with time, age and immense responsibility, while sharpening her abilities and will to a razor's edge.
================================================================================================================
All hail Esmerelda Weatherwax, the hag o hags!
Thank
@random_npc
@Durin