Legion0047
Retired Shadowrunner.
- Location
- Austria
- Pronouns
- God Emperor
no no, she is still mortal. No deal with the planet this time.
The Once and Future King (Warhammer Fantasy - Fate Crossover)
- Thread starter Legion0047
- Start date
Okay, then. Just pointing out that when Artoria was mortal, she was born with the magical energy of a red dragon thanks to Merlin, which gives her a Dragon's Magic Core and a high level Magic Resistance.
DAOT
Land Mattress Crew, trained and ready to go
- Pronouns
- She/Her
We picked artoria backstory, which we choose her to be just one step below an actual dragon.
Last edited:
Legion0047
Retired Shadowrunner.
- Location
- Austria
- Pronouns
- God Emperor
I ... did you even read the story/info post?
DAOT
Land Mattress Crew, trained and ready to go
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Congratulations, this Artoria is only one step below a Nasu verse Dragon, so if she let loose… not a lot of thing can fight her.
I see. That makes sense and I find it cool.
With the bonus of it being focused on Artoria being the main character of this story, which is nice.
Because I am getting tired of seeing too many Shirou crossover fics, not enough love for Artoria.
- Location
- ha noi
I mean, the feel for this Artoria is more of a "fought dragons, solo small armies" warhammer hero than "fought building-sized boars on semi-regular basis, deal with enough dragons and wryverns to be sick of it" nasu one. I wouldn't say she's down to earth, but definitely more human than the moving natural disaster that is Nasu Artoria
I already saw it.
Also, is there really Jesus in Warhammer Fantasy or is it story exclusive here? I noticed it in one of your chapters.
I don't see much of a difference other than Artoria being mortal and not made deal with the planet itself.
And that she can fit among the warriors who do fight dragons and armies with her capabilities.
Season 1 - A Painful Memory
Legion0047
Retired Shadowrunner.
- Location
- Austria
- Pronouns
- God Emperor
Night has fallen after a long day of walking along half overgrown dirt roads that sometimes disappeared beneath the sea of grass for miles - the tawing snow turning the usually yellow plains into lush fields of green, to which many a flower added splashes of colour - but still you find yourself lying wide awake in your tent, your campsite located in a small copse of trees to give you protection from the elements. You have already done everything that was needed: taken care of Meat Pie, ensuring he has enough food and water before rubbing him down, gathered firewood and made a small bonfire over which you cooked your own meagre dinner, the whole thing covered to prevent the smoke from giving away your location, a small ditch had been dug between your belonging and a nearby hill to give you some time to react in case of rain.
Then you had used the fading light to continue writing on your very own copy of the bible, the pages yet unbound and so very few, with large gaps of nothingness on them where illustrations will go in the future, but it was growing each day, your neat, small script put to paper until it was getting too dark - your night vision superior to a mere human, but cast in shades of gray and silver that didn't lend themselves much to writing - after which you had taken up your new weapon and continued to train with it, an hour or two lost to thrusts, slashes and shoves directed against shadows and old foes for your hands to learn to wield the Halberd.
TW: Implied Rape, skip to TWEnd to avoid
A full day, most would say, and yet you lie awake on your bedroll, ramrod still lest you scratch yourself bloody. You do not regret speaking the words you shared with Maharana, the Rakshasa surprisingly understanding to yourfailure weakness, but they had touched upon old wounds you had long since distanced yourself from only to reveal them to be as fresh and raw as those first few days after your wedding night when you could barely look at yourself or Guinevere - when you spent hours in your bath each night, scrubbing yourself bloody, only saved from the sight of your own bones by the scales hidden beneath your flesh.
During the day, you could deal with it the same way you have always dealt with such things, distracting yourself with labour that demands your attention - such as writing or training - or dull monotony you could focus your being upon - like marching - but with nothing to do but to lay still and to let your mind wander the memories were unavoidable, worming their way into your mind like maggots in a carcass.
Worst of all though is the way they start, for rarely are you reminded of the gruesome finale on its own, but rather drawn along the chain of memories: Happy and sweet, only for them to turn into disgust and ash.
The happiness when you stood on the altar across from Guinevere, your best friend and one of the few people that knew your secret, looking absolutely radiant and beautiful. The mortification of Merlins joke, an unfamiliar weight between your legs, mixing withlust relief at the ability to ensure succession - the inability of your father and his wife to do so a great source of strive and the reason for your charade in the first place. The anticipation nervousness that set in once you two had withdrawn to your quarter, now shared.
And then, invariably, your mind would conjure up what had happened next, your newly-wed wife leaving to the nearby bath to refresh herself, leaving you to await her in the bed. The sudden onset of dread when you felt your limbs deaden, becoming unresponsive and like lead. The fear when a figure stepped out of the shadows, slitted green eyes aflame with an inner light set in familiar features.
The disgust at what follows. Disgust at Morgan. Disgust with your weakness. Disgust with yourself.
TWEnd
You jump up, needing to do something - anything - but to lay there and go mad. Storming out of your tent, you begin to walk around the camp, your feet describing a circle again and again in a vain attempt at distracting yourself fromthe urge to destroy and kill and maim your thoughts. Round and round you go, slowly sinking into the monotonous routine when a concerned whinny rips you out of your funk, the form of Meat-Pie easily visible even in the scant moonlight as he looks at you from where he is resting himself.
"Did I wake you up?" You ask, approaching your mount to calm him down. "Sorry for that, no need for you to suffer these nights as well."
He neighs, long snout bumping into your side and leaving you to stumble against his flank. You try to get up, only for him to repeat his actions, leaving you to give in with a sigh. "Fine, you win." You say, petting his snout and slipping beneath the horse blanket protecting him from the frost. "I can spend some time with you."
You plan to wait for him to fall asleep so you can return to your walk, the strangeness that avoiding sleep brought with it a lesser price to pay than to spend any more time than you have to trapped within your own mind, but enveloped in sudden warmth and with the steady rising and falling of Meat Pie's chest against your back you soon fall asleep - leaving you to wake better rested than in weeks.
(+30 Stress From Facing Rape Trauma, further such events will generate less stress)
As you draw closer to your goal you also get a better idea of what you are actually dealing with, such as the fact that the rumours had somewhat overstated the threat you were here to solve - mainly that the forest had only overgrown a single lumber camp and that over the course of a week, giving the workers living there ample time to flee - and the exact location that you are seeking, so while you had to double back once to get back on the right track you arrive in the village that lies at the heart of the problem in good time.
On the final approach you also quickly spot the reason for why this all is happening, a massive furnace that is still the red of fresh bricks rising above the wooden walls of the town with smoke pouring out of its massive chimney while the woodlands you can see in the distance have recently been cut back massively, leaving vast stretched of Coppiced stumps where once there was forest - the remains of trees left alone to grow out again in the future - with lumberjacks and farmers busy expanding the clear-cut to burn in preparation of being turned into new farmland, their forms standing out like tiny dots against the fire as an area is set ablaze.
Appropriately named "Stump", the town had once been a simple lumber mill at the edge of Kharnos Forest, build near a small stream to power the saw and with a small hill to fortify against foes of all kinds, the location had since then expanded over the centuries, growing in fits and starts to its current size until the only thing left of its origins is the Bailey on the hill - also grown and oft repaired since then, but the original construction still visible beneath all the addition as you draw near.
One of two stone constructs you see - the other being the steeple of apagan temple church - the gatehouse is pretty overbuilt to the point of almost being a castle in its own right, but the guards posted at the large doors of solid wood are of the cut you have grown used to and so as you walk along a shift of lumberers returning home, idly chatting with them about work and the weather, a fat somewhat overweight gnat man clad in ill-fitting equipment approaches you with ill intent in his eyes.
While normally you would at least humour him, one thing you have learned during your travels is that gate duty is reserved for either the best or the worst a settlement can offer - those trusted and capable enough to handle a threat attacking without warning or those expendable enough to not matter should they perish - and weeks on the road try even your patience, so you just stare him down andshow your teeth press a few measly shards of copper in his hands as you pass by wordlessly. His mouth opens as if to say something, but then he thinks the better of it and just turns to harass another visitor, only for the rough looking man to copy you and walk by the guard without problems, the others behind him repeating the trick and leaving you with a slight smile as you enter the streets of stamped dirt that lie past the inner gate.
The town itself is looking moderately wealthy for the Borderprinces, with plaster and paint a common addition to many of the wooden houses and there was even the occasional piece of brickwork to be found, hinting at the existence of claypits and a brickmaker further upstream for you have approached from downstream and seen no such industry in your travel. The people are also looking well-fed and healthy, with clothes dyed and plenty of animals to provide labour, food and companionship without any of the privations you have come to understand to be common for these lands, with settlements like this the exception.
However, for all that, there is a certain edge to everyone, an undercurrent of fear that takes you a while to pin down and it isn't until you have tothreaten haggle the keeper of your inn of choice over some truly outrageously priced horse feed that it clicks. This is a town under siege, one with sturdy walls and stout defenders between it and its foes, with deep wells and full granaries to hold out, but it is a siege nonetheless. Walls can be taken or tunnelled under, defenders fall or lose heart, wells run dry or become tainted and even the largest of granaries will run empty sooner or later and with some comments made by the Lumberers and snippets of conversations overheard now cast in this light you even grasp the type of siege they are under: The stumps you saw before weren't Coppiced and the burns weren't in preparations of clearing new farmland, but rather the area was just left alone as come morning the forest would have reclaimed the area with new trees anyway and the firebreaks had been set to keep the people save during their work.
You certainly have your work cut out for you, as this isn't some minor circle of pixies ravaging a village for having taken stone from their ring, but a greater Fae incised to act with strong intent and as such unlikely to be moved from this course with any kind of ease. Though before you can even start to help, you need to figure out what exactly is going on here, as rumours and scraps of conversations not meant for your ears are nowhere near enough to do that - and any hint found towards the pact that had been broken would be invaluable in negotiating with the spirit.
Chose 3 of the following options to do during your stay:
[-] Peruse the Smithy: The probable cause of this whole event, the Smithy lies at the heart of it all, so you can probably find out something of interest there and even if not, you have heard that the new smith sells steel and something might catch your eye.
[-] Visit the Lumber operation: Man has fought against the wilds since time immemorial, but this is somewhat more literal than usual. If you want to get a better picture of things, the people on the frontlines are usually a good idea.
[X] Meet the Headman: Fae don't age and many of them have problems perceiving time as we do, meaning that pacts struck with them are often tied to bloodlines, artefacts or settlements as a whole and regardless of which it is, the Headman is the most likely person to know things about the pact.
[X] Greet the Elders: As the greybeards are want to say, the youth has no respect for tradition and so while the current generation might have forgotten the pact or cast it aside as mere superstition, it is likely that they still hold some knowledge that can be of use.
[X] Question the Priests: Even in the most Christian parts of Britain, where pagans were a rare sight and the old stories faded, priests still took over the responsibilities of the druids and shamans they had replaced, overseeing rituals and keeping note of deals made with the Fea - so with a bit of luck they should have exactly what you need.
[-] Listen to stories: Even the most incredulous story usually contains a grain of truth and so by listening to local legend and stories, you might learn more about the history of Stump and its interactions with the Fair Folk.
[-] Explore the Forest: The direct approach might yield nothing as you either fail to find the driving force behind it all or even if you do, it might be unwilling to deal with an unlearned outsider blundering into this. However, it might also yield an opportunity, either to negotiate for a solution or at least to establish a détente to give you time to find a more permanent solution.
AN: There is a discord if you want to hang out and if you want to support me, I have a Patreon and a Ko-Fi.
Then you had used the fading light to continue writing on your very own copy of the bible, the pages yet unbound and so very few, with large gaps of nothingness on them where illustrations will go in the future, but it was growing each day, your neat, small script put to paper until it was getting too dark - your night vision superior to a mere human, but cast in shades of gray and silver that didn't lend themselves much to writing - after which you had taken up your new weapon and continued to train with it, an hour or two lost to thrusts, slashes and shoves directed against shadows and old foes for your hands to learn to wield the Halberd.
TW: Implied Rape, skip to TWEnd to avoid
A full day, most would say, and yet you lie awake on your bedroll, ramrod still lest you scratch yourself bloody. You do not regret speaking the words you shared with Maharana, the Rakshasa surprisingly understanding to your
During the day, you could deal with it the same way you have always dealt with such things, distracting yourself with labour that demands your attention - such as writing or training - or dull monotony you could focus your being upon - like marching - but with nothing to do but to lay still and to let your mind wander the memories were unavoidable, worming their way into your mind like maggots in a carcass.
Worst of all though is the way they start, for rarely are you reminded of the gruesome finale on its own, but rather drawn along the chain of memories: Happy and sweet, only for them to turn into disgust and ash.
The happiness when you stood on the altar across from Guinevere, your best friend and one of the few people that knew your secret, looking absolutely radiant and beautiful. The mortification of Merlins joke, an unfamiliar weight between your legs, mixing with
And then, invariably, your mind would conjure up what had happened next, your newly-wed wife leaving to the nearby bath to refresh herself, leaving you to await her in the bed. The sudden onset of dread when you felt your limbs deaden, becoming unresponsive and like lead. The fear when a figure stepped out of the shadows, slitted green eyes aflame with an inner light set in familiar features.
The disgust at what follows. Disgust at Morgan. Disgust with your weakness. Disgust with yourself.
TWEnd
You jump up, needing to do something - anything - but to lay there and go mad. Storming out of your tent, you begin to walk around the camp, your feet describing a circle again and again in a vain attempt at distracting yourself from
"Did I wake you up?" You ask, approaching your mount to calm him down. "Sorry for that, no need for you to suffer these nights as well."
He neighs, long snout bumping into your side and leaving you to stumble against his flank. You try to get up, only for him to repeat his actions, leaving you to give in with a sigh. "Fine, you win." You say, petting his snout and slipping beneath the horse blanket protecting him from the frost. "I can spend some time with you."
You plan to wait for him to fall asleep so you can return to your walk, the strangeness that avoiding sleep brought with it a lesser price to pay than to spend any more time than you have to trapped within your own mind, but enveloped in sudden warmth and with the steady rising and falling of Meat Pie's chest against your back you soon fall asleep - leaving you to wake better rested than in weeks.
(+30 Stress From Facing Rape Trauma, further such events will generate less stress)
As you draw closer to your goal you also get a better idea of what you are actually dealing with, such as the fact that the rumours had somewhat overstated the threat you were here to solve - mainly that the forest had only overgrown a single lumber camp and that over the course of a week, giving the workers living there ample time to flee - and the exact location that you are seeking, so while you had to double back once to get back on the right track you arrive in the village that lies at the heart of the problem in good time.
On the final approach you also quickly spot the reason for why this all is happening, a massive furnace that is still the red of fresh bricks rising above the wooden walls of the town with smoke pouring out of its massive chimney while the woodlands you can see in the distance have recently been cut back massively, leaving vast stretched of Coppiced stumps where once there was forest - the remains of trees left alone to grow out again in the future - with lumberjacks and farmers busy expanding the clear-cut to burn in preparation of being turned into new farmland, their forms standing out like tiny dots against the fire as an area is set ablaze.
Appropriately named "Stump", the town had once been a simple lumber mill at the edge of Kharnos Forest, build near a small stream to power the saw and with a small hill to fortify against foes of all kinds, the location had since then expanded over the centuries, growing in fits and starts to its current size until the only thing left of its origins is the Bailey on the hill - also grown and oft repaired since then, but the original construction still visible beneath all the addition as you draw near.
One of two stone constructs you see - the other being the steeple of a
While normally you would at least humour him, one thing you have learned during your travels is that gate duty is reserved for either the best or the worst a settlement can offer - those trusted and capable enough to handle a threat attacking without warning or those expendable enough to not matter should they perish - and weeks on the road try even your patience, so you just stare him down and
The town itself is looking moderately wealthy for the Borderprinces, with plaster and paint a common addition to many of the wooden houses and there was even the occasional piece of brickwork to be found, hinting at the existence of claypits and a brickmaker further upstream for you have approached from downstream and seen no such industry in your travel. The people are also looking well-fed and healthy, with clothes dyed and plenty of animals to provide labour, food and companionship without any of the privations you have come to understand to be common for these lands, with settlements like this the exception.
However, for all that, there is a certain edge to everyone, an undercurrent of fear that takes you a while to pin down and it isn't until you have to
You certainly have your work cut out for you, as this isn't some minor circle of pixies ravaging a village for having taken stone from their ring, but a greater Fae incised to act with strong intent and as such unlikely to be moved from this course with any kind of ease. Though before you can even start to help, you need to figure out what exactly is going on here, as rumours and scraps of conversations not meant for your ears are nowhere near enough to do that - and any hint found towards the pact that had been broken would be invaluable in negotiating with the spirit.
Chose 3 of the following options to do during your stay:
[-] Peruse the Smithy: The probable cause of this whole event, the Smithy lies at the heart of it all, so you can probably find out something of interest there and even if not, you have heard that the new smith sells steel and something might catch your eye.
[-] Visit the Lumber operation: Man has fought against the wilds since time immemorial, but this is somewhat more literal than usual. If you want to get a better picture of things, the people on the frontlines are usually a good idea.
[X] Meet the Headman: Fae don't age and many of them have problems perceiving time as we do, meaning that pacts struck with them are often tied to bloodlines, artefacts or settlements as a whole and regardless of which it is, the Headman is the most likely person to know things about the pact.
[X] Greet the Elders: As the greybeards are want to say, the youth has no respect for tradition and so while the current generation might have forgotten the pact or cast it aside as mere superstition, it is likely that they still hold some knowledge that can be of use.
[X] Question the Priests: Even in the most Christian parts of Britain, where pagans were a rare sight and the old stories faded, priests still took over the responsibilities of the druids and shamans they had replaced, overseeing rituals and keeping note of deals made with the Fea - so with a bit of luck they should have exactly what you need.
[-] Listen to stories: Even the most incredulous story usually contains a grain of truth and so by listening to local legend and stories, you might learn more about the history of Stump and its interactions with the Fair Folk.
[-] Explore the Forest: The direct approach might yield nothing as you either fail to find the driving force behind it all or even if you do, it might be unwilling to deal with an unlearned outsider blundering into this. However, it might also yield an opportunity, either to negotiate for a solution or at least to establish a détente to give you time to find a more permanent solution.
AN: There is a discord if you want to hang out and if you want to support me, I have a Patreon and a Ko-Fi.
Gold adorned man
Stay true to your belief, and act for it.
- Location
- Floor of Religion
- Pronouns
- Nonsencioul
I wish to ask. Where can we view the stress and what effect it does?
Legion0047
Retired Shadowrunner.
- Location
- Austria
- Pronouns
- God Emperor
info post