Be interesting if he could meet the dwarf who made ghal maraz at some point to compare their wares or meet The white dwarf.
To Shield the World (Warhammer High Elf Mage Quest)
- Thread starter Voikirium
- Start date
- Fantasy
ArchAIngel
Sorcerer Supreme.
- Location
- Right behind you.
Smednir made Ghal Maraz, meeting an Ancestor God would be neat, but uh, bit too much for us methinks.
- Location
- India
- Pronouns
- He/Him
And way too late, besides. It's been about 4700 years since the Ancestors vanished from Mallus. In fact, its been more than 500 years since Sigmar himself died.
Maybe help Kislev make a game of thrones style wall with ice mages help and dwarfs if ur crazy lucky.
- Location
- Your pantry
- Pronouns
- He/Him
that's pretty impractical. A huge waste of resources, and seeing how the wildlings could rather easily get over the wall as normal-as humans… I bet a random band of norscans or chaos warriors could get across rather easily.
Dunno ice witches ice wall may cost alot but its better than what they have standing between them and chaos wastes.
The elves have made 0 nation-spanning walls in their history, the Winds of magic of any given area can be depleted, and Kislev doesn't have the manpower to hold such massive wall.
- Location
- India
- Pronouns
- He/Him
North of Kislev is really close to the Polar Gates, so the depletion of magic shouldn't be a problem.
Elves and Dwarfs did get together to build the whole Waystone network. And while it isn't a wall, it is a lot more complex project.
Though I do agree that Kislev prolly can't actually man such a wall.
- Location
- Hyperborea
The really big thing we could do is educate the Empire on magic so they can start a magical tradition early without waiting for Teclis to do it.
To Forge A Sword
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
To Forge A Sword
[X] Remain home. Gird yourself in the strength of your ancestors and prepare yourself for the Druchii. For they will come again, and this you know well and truly.
You think for a moment, allow your thoughts to flow with the Winds along the path of the Vortex. They swirl in and out and along.
Your mind flows to the Colonies. To what you have heard of them. Of the Gates of Callith and of the strange Snakemen of Khuresh, snapped in half as clearly and as painfully as your own people, broken in war, instructed by the Arhat in what was right and proper living on one hand, slaves to darkness on the other, who visit so often seeking to purchase fine wares or gain knowledge or even simply to speak to another so long lived. Of the Tower of the Sun, where the Wizards of Ind seek to purchase such mystical knowledge as you will offer in return for their own divine lore, and man and elf stand against the pitiless Beastmen. Of Arnheim, where war, bloody war, is waged against the Druchii for their many, vile deeds by free man and by elf, by natives and by those rebelling against their former masters and by elves themselves.
And then it turns to The Long March. To truly and honestly go out and fight evil, as your ancestors did and as is only proper that you should as well? To preserve the Waystones, which protect the world from the evils Chaos, which are a living link to the past, faded though it might? To see the world, and all its horrors and splendors—to see the Old World and Elithis again? As is your right, and perhaps, in some sense, your duty?
What can compare?
Your mind turns to fire red hair, to your rival, your equal, the sole constant in your life, if for so long, an annoyance of one. To a father who first taught you how to read, to sketch and fight and set you in the first place, on the path of magic. Of a mother, who took you camping, hunting, fishing, to sing, who ensured that it would be Ghur which claimed your soul in the fullness of time? Your sister, who once broke the arm of a boy who bullied you, who spoke poorly of your witch-like ways, the rube, who you still must pay back for letting Tethia know about your reading habits? Your brother, your brother who you saw grow into a man, who you shall in turn repay for keeping true by telling his besotted to speak to him?
No, it is time to be a light of truth as Asuryan Himself would: It was not simply abandonment, but betrayal, that made those hundred years sting. But betrayal can only exist between a people who have cared for each other in at least a broad sense, and it only hurt because you cared for them. And that…that does not, cannot change. For they are your family.
And too, what of the bright sun shining overhead, dancing along the touch of magic as it never will anywhere else for in no other place is the magic so worked, so touched by the swirling vortex to create nothing less than a prism of infinite possibility? The breeze twirling through the flowering trees, carrying their scent with them? The roar of lions? The smell of the honeysuckle, mingled with rose? The Glory of your turning aside the beasts of the Annulli? And to leave it all defenseless, in the face of the Druchii, or of any other who would dare to threaten your home, your people?
"I confess, my mind turns with curiosity towards the world entire. Towards the colonies. And I desire to protect the world. But." You grasp the two of them in a hug, crushing them against you. They look shocked but return it quickly, and the three offer each other a comfort that has been missing for much too long. Merel is stiff, and awkward, always the withdrawn that one, but after a time he returns it with arms strong as all archers. Your sister, proud and uncaring and defiant of those who would mock her for…anything, returns it quickly, and you can scarcely breathe. And you, for your part?
Well, it is only natural. You are a thing touched by Ghur, not forced into the mold of the Arcane Marks but no matter how skilled a mage one cannot know the Winds and their heart and not be touched by it. And so your soul is a thing of beasts; but for all it may be forgotten in a song of predator and prey, even the beasts hold to their family, to their kin. The wolf, the falcon, the elephant and many more alike will stick together as siblings, never mind their sires; and who are you to deny that portion of the animal kingdom its dues, for all so many other, lesser mages seem willing only to consider that portion of it, long of fang and red of claw. "You are my family, and this is my home. And it will always be so."
"Alright. That…Alright, Vardanis."
"Now then, I do hope will you excuse me but I do need to forge my sword." You meaningfully shake the bar of steel in your hand, and none too subtly gesture at the statues of Asuryan, Vaul, and Hoeth you have around the Forge.
"Hm. What were you thinking?"
"Simplicity. I know what I want it do. It will blaze with magic, and any blow of true heart will strike down my foe."
"Excellent."
"It is all I can be Merel. Now, if you don't mind, I must enchant."
"Of course we don't mind, right Merel?" She claps his back in what is, you think, meant to be friendly camaraderie but judging by the breath he lets out, was decidedly less than camaraderie.
"Actually, I would like to speak with Merel about something briefly if you don't mind."
"About what?"
"I still need to rake him around the coals for telling Tethia about certain habits."
"Oh, oh of course," her face splits into a particularly satisfied grin. "Have fun." She walks out right quick.
Merel looks confused for a minute as you stare at him, before you light the forges with a simple fire, ensuring she cannot hear even though she is all but certainly eavesdropping to laugh about it later. "Next time she cause you trouble, just say the name Volund Emeraldsea and see how she reacts." His eyes widen, and then he gives a smile, one that is very unfriendly. "Oh, and do me a favor won't you, and look mildly to moderately chastised when you go out, please, and ideally babble something to her though I won't stop you if you want to pretend to be so traumatized you can't speak."
[] Write in sword aesthetic (Go as detailed or as simple as you like, just keep in mind it has to be at least a bastard sword. Posting a picture is also fine, if that's what you'd like to try)
[] Write in sword name (Sample names: Drodano, Elugal, Kelindri)
Vote will open in roughly twelve hours.
I did not forget about Tethia, she is incoming.
[X] Remain home. Gird yourself in the strength of your ancestors and prepare yourself for the Druchii. For they will come again, and this you know well and truly.
You think for a moment, allow your thoughts to flow with the Winds along the path of the Vortex. They swirl in and out and along.
Your mind flows to the Colonies. To what you have heard of them. Of the Gates of Callith and of the strange Snakemen of Khuresh, snapped in half as clearly and as painfully as your own people, broken in war, instructed by the Arhat in what was right and proper living on one hand, slaves to darkness on the other, who visit so often seeking to purchase fine wares or gain knowledge or even simply to speak to another so long lived. Of the Tower of the Sun, where the Wizards of Ind seek to purchase such mystical knowledge as you will offer in return for their own divine lore, and man and elf stand against the pitiless Beastmen. Of Arnheim, where war, bloody war, is waged against the Druchii for their many, vile deeds by free man and by elf, by natives and by those rebelling against their former masters and by elves themselves.
And then it turns to The Long March. To truly and honestly go out and fight evil, as your ancestors did and as is only proper that you should as well? To preserve the Waystones, which protect the world from the evils Chaos, which are a living link to the past, faded though it might? To see the world, and all its horrors and splendors—to see the Old World and Elithis again? As is your right, and perhaps, in some sense, your duty?
What can compare?
Your mind turns to fire red hair, to your rival, your equal, the sole constant in your life, if for so long, an annoyance of one. To a father who first taught you how to read, to sketch and fight and set you in the first place, on the path of magic. Of a mother, who took you camping, hunting, fishing, to sing, who ensured that it would be Ghur which claimed your soul in the fullness of time? Your sister, who once broke the arm of a boy who bullied you, who spoke poorly of your witch-like ways, the rube, who you still must pay back for letting Tethia know about your reading habits? Your brother, your brother who you saw grow into a man, who you shall in turn repay for keeping true by telling his besotted to speak to him?
No, it is time to be a light of truth as Asuryan Himself would: It was not simply abandonment, but betrayal, that made those hundred years sting. But betrayal can only exist between a people who have cared for each other in at least a broad sense, and it only hurt because you cared for them. And that…that does not, cannot change. For they are your family.
And too, what of the bright sun shining overhead, dancing along the touch of magic as it never will anywhere else for in no other place is the magic so worked, so touched by the swirling vortex to create nothing less than a prism of infinite possibility? The breeze twirling through the flowering trees, carrying their scent with them? The roar of lions? The smell of the honeysuckle, mingled with rose? The Glory of your turning aside the beasts of the Annulli? And to leave it all defenseless, in the face of the Druchii, or of any other who would dare to threaten your home, your people?
"I confess, my mind turns with curiosity towards the world entire. Towards the colonies. And I desire to protect the world. But." You grasp the two of them in a hug, crushing them against you. They look shocked but return it quickly, and the three offer each other a comfort that has been missing for much too long. Merel is stiff, and awkward, always the withdrawn that one, but after a time he returns it with arms strong as all archers. Your sister, proud and uncaring and defiant of those who would mock her for…anything, returns it quickly, and you can scarcely breathe. And you, for your part?
Well, it is only natural. You are a thing touched by Ghur, not forced into the mold of the Arcane Marks but no matter how skilled a mage one cannot know the Winds and their heart and not be touched by it. And so your soul is a thing of beasts; but for all it may be forgotten in a song of predator and prey, even the beasts hold to their family, to their kin. The wolf, the falcon, the elephant and many more alike will stick together as siblings, never mind their sires; and who are you to deny that portion of the animal kingdom its dues, for all so many other, lesser mages seem willing only to consider that portion of it, long of fang and red of claw. "You are my family, and this is my home. And it will always be so."
"Alright. That…Alright, Vardanis."
"Now then, I do hope will you excuse me but I do need to forge my sword." You meaningfully shake the bar of steel in your hand, and none too subtly gesture at the statues of Asuryan, Vaul, and Hoeth you have around the Forge.
"Hm. What were you thinking?"
"Simplicity. I know what I want it do. It will blaze with magic, and any blow of true heart will strike down my foe."
"Excellent."
"It is all I can be Merel. Now, if you don't mind, I must enchant."
"Of course we don't mind, right Merel?" She claps his back in what is, you think, meant to be friendly camaraderie but judging by the breath he lets out, was decidedly less than camaraderie.
"Actually, I would like to speak with Merel about something briefly if you don't mind."
"About what?"
"I still need to rake him around the coals for telling Tethia about certain habits."
"Oh, oh of course," her face splits into a particularly satisfied grin. "Have fun." She walks out right quick.
Merel looks confused for a minute as you stare at him, before you light the forges with a simple fire, ensuring she cannot hear even though she is all but certainly eavesdropping to laugh about it later. "Next time she cause you trouble, just say the name Volund Emeraldsea and see how she reacts." His eyes widen, and then he gives a smile, one that is very unfriendly. "Oh, and do me a favor won't you, and look mildly to moderately chastised when you go out, please, and ideally babble something to her though I won't stop you if you want to pretend to be so traumatized you can't speak."
[] Write in sword aesthetic (Go as detailed or as simple as you like, just keep in mind it has to be at least a bastard sword. Posting a picture is also fine, if that's what you'd like to try)
[] Write in sword name (Sample names: Drodano, Elugal, Kelindri)
Vote will open in roughly twelve hours.
I did not forget about Tethia, she is incoming.
Last edited:
ArchAIngel
Sorcerer Supreme.
- Location
- Right behind you.
[X] Sword Aesthetic: Literally just the Elven Greatsword from Skyrim.
Have y'all SEEN that thing? It's dope.
Also it looks RIGHT out of Helf stuff.
Have y'all SEEN that thing? It's dope.
Also it looks RIGHT out of Helf stuff.
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Moratorium, sorry.
[] A bestial blade, with a jagged edge on one side, bound in white leather and fur around a blood red gem at the pommel. The manticore's claw forms the core of the blade.
Last edited:
- Location
- Your pantry
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] A two handed scimitar, blade shining white as can be. The sword's crossguard and pommel are crafted out of gilded metal. It's hilt is made out of dark brown wood, sourced from Chrace (duh). The crossguard holds two Ruby gems at it's center (one for each side), reminiscent of freshly spilt blood, crimson, yet pure. The hilt is wrapped in dark red leather, while a tassle of white lion hair hangs from the pommel. it's name is written along the fuller of the blade, in flowing elven script.
hope this is good enough. I'm a sucker for two handed scimitars. They look so badass.
hope this is good enough. I'm a sucker for two handed scimitars. They look so badass.
Last edited:
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Oh, thank you for reminding me, added in a space to vote for a name.
Eltharin Dictionary
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Eltharin Wiki, Eltharin dictionary
Potentially useful sources for naming the sword (or anything else). First one is the wiki and so goes with the usual warning, second is a high elf fan site, does not cite some of them and is pretty old at this point but it's better than nothing.
Potentially useful sources for naming the sword (or anything else). First one is the wiki and so goes with the usual warning, second is a high elf fan site, does not cite some of them and is pretty old at this point but it's better than nothing.
- Location
- United Kingdom
@Voikirium where do you get your Eltharin translations from?
I've been looking at the wiki, but whilst it mentions some runes I'm not entirely sure how they're meant to fit together. I know Methelian's sword had a rune on either side, but the can we just do the name by mashing two words together?
Can't remember if WHF elves have single edged swords like Lotr or dual-edged, but I think it was the latter. The Skyrim one does seem a bit wide though.
I've been looking at the wiki, but whilst it mentions some runes I'm not entirely sure how they're meant to fit together. I know Methelian's sword had a rune on either side, but the can we just do the name by mashing two words together?
EDIT: Ha. And as I'm about to post he answers.
Can't remember if WHF elves have single edged swords like Lotr or dual-edged, but I think it was the latter. The Skyrim one does seem a bit wide though.
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I generally take two Runes, then modify them a bit, then place them together.
Single edged or double edged works, admittedly single-edged is a bit Druchii but they have to have gotten it from somewhere.
- Location
- India
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] A two handed scimitar, blade shining white as can be. The sword's crossguard and pommel are crafted out of gilded metal. It's hilt is made out of dark brown wood, sourced from Chrace (duh). The crossguard holds two Ruby gems at it's center (one for each side), reminiscent of freshly spilt blood, crimson, yet pure. The hilt is wrapped in dark red leather, while a tassle of white lion hair hangs from the pommel. it's name is written along the fuller of the blade, in flowing elven script.
[X] Name - Cynathyal/Deathclaw
[X] Name - Cynathyal/Deathclaw
- Location
- India
- Pronouns
- He/Him
How are we actually using the claw? Like are we cutting it up and embedding it along the sword, powdering it down and adding it to the metal, or using it as the blade/backing of the sword?