Warhammer Fantasy: A Dynasty of Dynamic Alcoholism
- Thread starter torroar
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- warhammer warhammer fantasy fantasy intrigue happens male protagonist ck2 quest belief stronk count of cannons drunken wisdom foes in the shadows graf of guns (guns) if you have a question check the front page first it begins... mountain vietnam ogres paranoia rising unseen enemies everywhere use the search function before asking waifu wars wake the bull
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They all look like they have potential for great fun.
Is there an exact year stamp you imagine each of these scenes occurring? Most of these are a bit harder to not imagine as occurring as recently as 2343 IC for me.
Happy 30th!
Potential Improvements to the Salkalten Guard - iggyfan
iggyfan
Verified Man-Thing
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Potential Improvements to the Salkalten Guard
While the current armament of a handgun has proven itself to be perfectly useful, introducing new varieties of firearms to the Salkalten Guard's arsenal could prove useful. The most obvious potential addition is blastguns, as their spray of shot would prove useful during room-to-room defensive actions.
The Salkalten Guard's melee armament of spears and axes remains as useful as it had been when the Guard was first founded, some of the commanders have suggestions that could be useful.
The improvement which received the most support from Guard commanders was modifying their axes with the introduction of a thickened back spike. Such a change would naturally increase their ability to deal with heavily armored enemies. However, that would not be their primary purpose which is to increase their utility as tools. Several of the commanders at Salkalten, not all of them of the Salkalten Guard, have reported difficulty clearing the walls of destroyed cannons and scorpions.
The improvement which received the second most support was attaching a hook to their spears, just above the shaft but below the spear blade itself. Such an improvement would provide a stop to prevent them from penetrating into their foes too deeply, and more importantly provide a way to pull enemies out of formation.
As for a potential addition to their arsenal, one of the liberated gladiators has informed me of a variety of polearm used by Norscans on occasion, called an atgeir, which resembles a long-bladed axe on a pole. The head is reminiscent of certain forms of Kislevite bardiche, it extends a short distance from the haft, while the lower half is reminiscent of a bearded axe with a particularly long beard the upper haft extends well beyond the haft and forms into a tall blade with a tip ending in a stabbing point. A few of the officers have indicated interest in the design. However, to use a form of weapon originating from the Norscans would likely hurt morale as well as damage the reputation of the Salkalten Guard. As a precaution it would be recommended to modify the weapon before adoption. Removing the lower beard, adding a hook to the back, and calling it a boarding halberd should suffice. I have included a sketch of the purposed weapon in the letter.
As the duties of the Salkalten Guard are largely defensive in nature, grenades and Hohenzollern cocktails would likely prove to be a useful addition to their arsenal. The former would help them scythe down mobs of lightly armored foes such as goblins and marauders, the latter is able to seep through any gap in armor and increase their ability to trolls and other such regenerators.
It is suggested that the Salkalten Guard's scale mail corselets be replaced with solid cuirasses. Dwarf forged would be preferable due to the secretive "galvunnyzation" process commonly employed by such smiths, which makes armor exceedingly resistant to corrosion. Equipping the entire Salkalten Guard with such will no doubt prove grossly impractical, but it might be possible to equip a twentieth of their number, picked for valor and skill at arms, with such.
On a less material front the Salkalten Guard was left out of the pay raise that the soldiers of Ostland's armies received in 2324. Increasing it to match them would improve morale as well as improve recruiting.
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This is definitely an oversight. I wonder if we should expand the Salkalten Guard to be a full Coast Guard, or Army of the Coast, headquartered in Salkalten. They'd fill the role of marines, serving as rapid deployment, incursion response, perhaps even retaliation. Like if there's a particularly troublesome Norscan clan they could go after them in Norsca.
But the primary focus would be responding to raids, and amphibious combat.
Do you have a patreon or ever thought of setting one up? My friend you have written almost two million words, breathed new life into a setting and created an entire genre of CK quests.
Harry Potter clocks in at just over 1 million and Rowling is worth billions, for the effort you've put into this I'd be happy to send you $5 a month to make your life easier for your current update schedule.
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iggyfan
Verified Man-Thing
- Location
- Kentucky
Please note that the GM has marked that omake as non-canon.
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- Underground
It's a really nice sentiment, but this has been asked and anwered before. torroar does not have a patreon and is not comfortable with getting payment, donations, etc.
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- a
Sorry to burst your bubble, but the qm have repeatedly said that he isn't comfortable receiving donations. I guess this question will keep coming up huh.
Do we need a thread mark or something to post @torroar answer on this matter?
I appreciate all the well wishes, folks. I really do.
As for payment stuff, I've made my feelings on that known before, but I can see about putting something into the FAQ post at some point. Lots of familial medical appointments hitting us that I have to provide transport and care for lately, other IRL familial issues, but hopefully things will get better at some point.
Writing, as ever, grinds on. If ya'll want to take a stab at writing omakes, go for it, just...really try to dig into previous posts involving the characters to try and get them right. And be willing to accept that I might have to veto certain portions, or request rewrites, if canonicity is desired. And to one question I believe I saw, blunted weapons are the usual for most of the children, but they also accept small nicks and pokes and bleedings. After ten, start advancing further into the depths. Tasha and Frederick the Younger are full contact at this point.
As for payment stuff, I've made my feelings on that known before, but I can see about putting something into the FAQ post at some point. Lots of familial medical appointments hitting us that I have to provide transport and care for lately, other IRL familial issues, but hopefully things will get better at some point.
Writing, as ever, grinds on. If ya'll want to take a stab at writing omakes, go for it, just...really try to dig into previous posts involving the characters to try and get them right. And be willing to accept that I might have to veto certain portions, or request rewrites, if canonicity is desired. And to one question I believe I saw, blunted weapons are the usual for most of the children, but they also accept small nicks and pokes and bleedings. After ten, start advancing further into the depths. Tasha and Frederick the Younger are full contact at this point.
Massgamer
Advance toward the Future
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- The Future
Happy to give assistance if you want us to as always, and hope things improve as well bud.
I'm getting subtle hints that you want omakes. It's probably because I'm an empath.
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- He/Him
Uh, no? He's talking about omakes because people asked questions about them.
Listen, I've said multiple times over the years that I never want to discourage creativity and inspiration. That being said, it's also just a fair warning at this point that as one approaches more core characters, I get more and more specific and stringent on details. Its one thing for a completely oc merc band, it's another for omakes which would involve the Hohenzollerns themselves. Where missteps could be critical and result in disqualification from canonicity.
So, again. I'm happy if people choose to write stuff. But there's just a caveat of me swooping down with editing requirements on occasion.
So, again. I'm happy if people choose to write stuff. But there's just a caveat of me swooping down with editing requirements on occasion.
- Pronouns
- He
And that's perfectly reasonable. You are the ultimate master of this world, so you have every right.
As far as I am concernee, you telling me what's gucci and what ain't helps with the writing!
Battle of the Everpeak Excerpt 3
Battle of the Everpeak Excerpt 3
"Urgh...dag," the enormous hobgoblin spat as it dribbled its blood all across the ground of the burning hangar bay.
All around it, there was death. Whirling night goblins who had unleashed themselves into the ranks of the men and dwarfs opposing them, frothing at the mouths with unnaturally enhanced mushroom concoctions. Grim, steely-eyed quarrelers firing again and again into the heaving morass of bodies that had kept swarming in through the blown open outer gates of the hangar. Laughing orcs crashing heedlessly against shield walls prepared by the defenders, repelled again and again yet more than willing to try all over again. Some goblins were launched by their fellows to land atop or even behind some of the shield walls, managing to cause wounds and the rare kill before they were sundered by many simultaneous blows. There was a massive amount of wreckage strewn everywhere. Loading bays for the gyrocopters and gyrobombers. Workshops for maintenance and repair. Stockpiles of fuel and weapon components, including one section of bombs that had been purposefully set off by the greenskins creating an enormous inferno and crater into the hangar that would require weeks to possibly months of repair. And the greenskins fought on, happy and eager to kill and die after all that time spent climbing. Their white cloaks and skins and furs which had concealed their frames as they had clawed their ways up the mountain to reach this point were now thoroughly stained red, black, and green. The blood of a great many of the greenskins, in fact, glowed that disturbing luminescent green. Boiling energies made manifest and present upon touching open air that only began to fade after being spilled.
Magic, Genevieve realized as she finally rammed her sword down through the eye socket of one of the white-armored black orcs and forced it to stop moving. The amount of blood in the air would have utterly overwhelmed a newborn thrall. To her, at this stage in her existence, that great and choking limitation was simply no longer a concern. She was certainly aware of it all. She could never not be. She could hear so many hearts beating, the thrumming rivers in the veins and arteries, but there was no longer an all-encompassing tug that required constant and conscious effort to ignore and disdain it. Instead, she took all that awareness, and utilized it. She knew exactly when each foe was dead, and which one were just fading, and allowed it to improve the efficiency with which - and where - she struck as she glided across the battlefield. A full half of her attention was not even on her own fighting, none of the greenskins save some of the white-armored black orcs providing that much of an effort on her part.
So much had changed after her freedom had been gained with the death of the ancient dragon. She had always had some moderate skill and power with magic, but now the wind of Ulgu had practically suffused her as much as blood had. The shadows and mists themselves seemed so much more than they had before. They twitched and writhed and moved with her, and she with them. The power of the sun, who she had struggled to resist, slid away from her now to the point that she could walk underneath its rays boldly and go unharmed. Not necessarily because she was wholly inviolable to it, but rather because she now, without even trying, she could conjure a film - a sheathe? - of Ulgu upon and over herself which effectively granted the same defense. Like slipping on an entirely separate yet not layer of skin that both was and was not her. Her strength, her speed, her power, it had nearly overwhelmed her in the first days before she'd begun to acclimate to all of the varied changes. Yet she clung to her old attachments still, now. Stronger, even, for the fear and awareness of just how weak she was had gone from her.
Let the Midnight Aristocracy sneer and spit and threaten as it would. She was no longer a mere outcast for them to denigrate.
Instead, Genevieve watched and listened as the Emperor Magnus the Pious huffed another breath and cracked his neck, hefting Ghal Maraz on his shoulder as the hobgoblin who had led this entire great mob stumbled back and away from him. She observed as the High King of the dwarfs, Thorgrim Grudgebearer, cut not a path but a canyon between the greenskins with the weapons of his Ancestor Gods. The first had gone for the leader, the latter had elected to head towards the gap that had been blown open into the hangar bay doors themselves. To the hobgoblin's credit, he had lasted longer than Genevieve thought he would, if only because he was more than willing to constantly retreat and duck out and away from Magnus' blows. Wiry and strong for its kind it may have been, with all the inhuman speed it was capable of, it had not managed to prove itself a match for the Emperor despite his steadily advancing age. Or then, perhaps, Genevieve could not help but wonder as her awareness of the world beyond sight touched upon it, it would never have been given the holy fire which flickered upon the hammer's head.
"You are beaten this day, creature," he shouted, lashing out with the great hammer at two approaching orcs that sought to strike him while he remained seemingly still. "You and all your kind!"
"Ehgk, mebbe," the hobgoblin shrugged casually before lashing out with an astonishing amount of vitality despite the crushing blows landed upon its body, one of which had quite neatly hobbled its left leg. "Gon' gob fihting tho'!"
It would be the final exchange this time. Ghal Maraz's head flared with holy power, just for the briefest of moments, as Magnus spun it about two-handed to block the strikes from the hobgoblin. No, not merely block, but deflect and disarm with the sheer power behind the movement as mighty thews channeled themselves with absolute precision. The bones and meat of the hobgbolin's hands and forearms were mashed apart despite its armor, the force behind the follow up blow slamming directly into their chest and sending them upright a few feet into the air before they landed again on their back. Before the metal-jawed creature could do more than squirm slightly, the heavy boot of Magnus had landed on its chest. Meanwhile, the High King and his thronebearers, as well as an entire small regiment of elite ironbreakers, had reached the gates of the hangar bay. There, they slaughtered every orc attempted either to enter or to leave, forming a stout and short plug. Already, the momentum had turned, now it simply accelerated further.
"Hoy!" The hobgoblin gurgled, shaking its head, its lips curling in a way that formed a grotesque facsimile of a smile with its lower jaw replaced entirely by metal. "Yez deg 'ard, muy! Ho ho! Kull'z gudda lub killig ya!"
Magnus wasted no more time and simply brought Ghal Maraz down, killing the creature. Genevieve spared a few moments tearing apart a number of greenskins near him, tendrils of shadow spearing through their bodies and snuffing out their lives in silence as she walked over with her sword held behind her back.
"Lady Genevieve," Magnus nodded to her. "Have you heard of a 'Kull' in your travels before?"
"I cannot say I have," she answered back genuinely, tilting her head as she looked down at the creature. "But if this one called Kull their leader, then they must be fearsome indeed. The magics used to aid in concealing the movements of these greenskins up the mountain," she gestured out at the now slowing fighting. "It is potent, powerful. I have seen somewhat similar amongst night goblin shamans before, but never to this extent before."
"A great many varieties of greenskin have joined together in this endeavor," Magnus' frown increased in intensity. "Something to concern ourselves with later, once we have cleared the hangar."
"Of course," she nodded before the two of them rejoined the killing.
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The final tally was grim, especially for the elite Everpeak Air Corps. The advanced and deadly sneaking of the greenskins had allowed them to reach the hangar bays - previously declared unreachable due to the sheer deadliness of the mountain and its climate by a number of longbeards both Traditional and Radical - had proven terribly effective even for how short of a raid it had been. More than three quarters of the flying machines left to the dwarfs had been destroyed in the fighting outright, thanks to the greenskins liberally making use of the stockpiled bombs being prepared for loading. The remaining quarter would require extensive repair, rearming, and refueling before they could fly out again. All things that would prove difficult indeed with the hangars as damaged as they were. Not to mention the fact that many dwarfs forming the support staff for the hangars were dead thanks to the speed and viciousness of the greenskins. A number of those pilots who had finally collapsed from exhaustion in their beds waiting until their next shift would never be waking up again either. A fell toll had been taken upon the dwarfs in this action, and even though it had cost them less than two hundred dead dawi total, those dead made up a great many centuries of training and expertise lost. By comparison, thanks to the tight quarters, friendly fire and collateral against themselves on the part of the greenskins, and the High King blocking the doors and forcing the greenskins to either fight him to get past or try and retreat down the utterly inhospitable mountain, the enemy had lost not merely hundreds but at least some two thousand or so. At least amongst those that could be seen. Even more would be determined by the rangers to have died on the climb up, concealed for a time by their camouflage and the magics aiding them.
A mere skirmish, compared to the numbers assembled by both sides, but a grievous one.
Alas, the day was not yet done.
No sooner had the last of the greenskins making up the climbing party been slain than new horns went up and messengers came running to the hangars from the elevators and stairs.
The WAAAAGH!!! had been pushing all the while at the main gates and walls defending the Everpeak. By now, advancing under sheer weight of numbers, they had managed to bring forth new siege towers and humongous ladders to try and latch and climb onto the exposed tiers of the walls. As those had been targeted by the assembled artillery of the Everpeak, the ruse was revealed, as the greenskins on the grounds moved aside to show off their rock lobbers and doom diver catapults previously concealed by the green tide. Allowed to get closer, and dialing in as best as their beady goblin eyes could manage, they began counter-fire up at the stunties and humies which fired back down at them. Truth be told, for the most part rock lobbers were mainly distractions, it seemed, for their rocks and boulders were surely capable of causing harm, it was undeniable. In fact, at least one or two large boulders did manage to crash into a few cannons here and there, causing tremendous damage. It was the doom divers, however, which proved all the more dangerous. Screaming, cackling, vaguely guided missiles made up of goblins in their flapping suits and leathers managed to sail into the firing tiers and land amongst the dwarfs and men crewing the defenses there.
And then exploding, thanks to the snarling explosive squigs that they had strapped to themselves on their flights.
Some of the rock lobbers, after that point, truly enormous catapults which were almost immediately blown apart afterwards, were launching entire sacks of cave squigs into the firing tiers. One could only guess how much work and canvas had been required to stitch together such containers. From there, the chaos only grew and worsened, even as Thorgrim, Magnus, and many others arrived to repel the newest threats to the artillery that had been continuously firing for hours. All the while, the greenskins jeered up at them, waving fists and making rude gestures, as they attempted to climb upwards and get to grips with the defenders. Yet the doors of the Everpeak were four hundred feet tall, and as each firing tier sealed itself off once more to protect against the volume of squigs, rocks, feces, and goblins being flung into them, the greenskins were only to be frustrated in each attempt. Their highest ladders, their largest towers, could not possibly reach the walls before being blown apart by the sheer array of defenses pointed against them even with the tiers sliding shut once more as the greenskins threatened to reach or overwhelm them.
Truly, it was estimated likely that untold acres upon acres of forest had been stripped clean to create these ramshackle war machines, for as ever the greenskins were more than happy to try and overwhelm the works of the dwarfs with quantity.
It was midday, then, that Ghazghka the Invincible deigned to speak again.
At that point, the leaders of men and dwarfs had been breaking their fast together. There was little time for feasting, only consuming what food and drink they could to refuel themselves for the fighting still to come. They dared not attempt to do so atop the walls, for such heights had proven dangerous for the unacclimated humans amongst them. For that matter, many beardlings still swooned slightly when they were to take messages or supplies to the tops of the walls. The fourth and final opened tier, second highest, was still filled with cannons, grudge throwers, and bolt throwers aplenty, all of whom were still firing away at the greenskins for all that it terrifyingly seemed to be making no true dent in the enemy's numbers. Magnus had just begun to refill a mug of frothy dwarf ale from a sideways held cask when the air of the valley and mountainside began to shake again with that unmistakable thrum of savage power. Immediately he stood, as did the others, one and all approaching the battlements of the firing tier to gaze out down at the greenskins once more.
"Huh! Okay, last shaman's head exploded, but this one's good. Great!" Ghazgkha boomed out once more, adding a dark chuckle which reverberated in the bones. "So we've all been having a good time here, right?"
There came a great cheer from the greenskins, of all kinds. A screaming, joyous war cry which exulted at the concept and existence of warfare, of ecstasy brought about by being involved in that same concept in a way that defined all they were and all they ever wished to be.
"So I sez to meself, Ghazghka! How's about we give them humies and stunties a gift, for how good a fight they're giving us!?"
The cheer this time was far more confused, but Magnus only found himself frowning, whilst the dwarfs took on ever grimmer casts to their expressions. The vampire, Genevieve, had clasped her hands behind her back while tilting her head.
"A real nice gift, too! S'a big ol' stuntie reunion!" The warlord laughed again, though this time Magnus saw as a handful of the dwarfs began to stiffen, horror on their faces, though Thorgrim simply sneered and chewed at his lower lip. "Course, you humies might not know about this one. Seems yer little stuntie buddies don't really luv talkin' about this side uv dere family! But don't worry, Ghazhka loves family! Family fights are some of the best around!"
"Oh," Genevieve said, squinting as she leaned forward slightly. "Shit," her eyes went wide.
"What is it?" Magnus asked her, raising his spyglass even as he did.
What he saw confused and then horrified them as the shapes clarified whilst being hauled forward by groaning orcs with chains in hand.
"What...are...those?" He murmured.
"Hahahahah!!!! Hey humies! We all know you got spikey boy humies, lubbin' dem 'Daaaark Gods' yeah? Ya ever met wunna der spikey boy stunties? They're pretty kunnin', make some neat stuff! You now, like dis 'ere loot we nicked from um!"
"Close the stone!" Thorgrim bellowed, thanes and lords of entire clans rushing to follow his orders as if they were mere beardlings. "Close them! Now!"
Tons of rune-inscribed and engineer-aided mountainside began sliding shut to block out the world once more. But Magnus had already seen the enormous and surely infernal monstrosities which had been hauled forth. Some, he recognized as the Hellcannons utilized by the Everchosen Asavar Kul. A mere handful of the things had nearly brought down the city of Kislev, had cracked the earth open in many places, had aided in the utter razing and ruination of Praag. But there were others he had not recognized. Things shaped like cannons but tilted and sized larger than any other he had scarcely ever imagined before. Some which had seemed larger even than the Ironblasters of the ogres, or the newfangled Titan Cannons which the Ostlanders had been so proud of. All of this and more, all of which had visibly glowed with infernal runes and light, which was likely only partly the reason behind why the greenskins had lashed so many greenish glowing chains around them.
Then Magnus was nearly thrown off his feet as something struck the mountainside which had slid into place, only being saved from striking the ground with his bottom by the hand of Genevieve.
Then something else struck.
Then another.
Then a continuing barrage began.
But Magnus could not help but stare at the dwarfs, all of whom seemed to have turned away from the utterly confused humans staring at them. He had little doubt that such was occurring elsewhere in the Everpeak as the men of the Empire looked towards the dwarfs who had, never once in their lives, spoken of such things to them. Magnus was not so ignorant, of course. He could not be. He knew better than most of what had truly occurred in Karak Ungor, if only thanks to his friendship with Frederick and the later documentation efforts of his Sword of Justice. But that same understanding would be difficult for others, he knew. For some of the most devout Sigmarites, for whom dwarf-friendship was a core tenet, it might well break their world views entirely if they learned that there were dwarfs who had fallen under the sway of Chaos.
"Thorgrim," he sighed, thanking the vampire in silence who responded with a nod and by stepping away, "It seems we must speak."
Many of the dwarfs spun on their heels, eyes blazing with mixed anger and shame and grudge-hatred in a potent mixture enough for Magnus to simply hold up his hands palms forward in defense.
"I already knew. But this...," he paused as another impact struck the walls. "This may require some explanation for others."
There was a great sputtering from dozens of dwarfs, many whom he knew were clinging to the impossible and stubborn hope that they could just rely on their silence once more on the matter. That if they just ignored it, if they just didn't acknowledge it, they would not have to speak of it, explain it. They would refuse to, he knew. Some, he spent a bit more thought on, were even considering trying to force the humans into silence as well. To threaten them if necessary, such was the mixture of loathing and anger and everything else swirling inside their minds. He saw it in them, saw it in them as he saw a great many things in the hearts of men, dwarfs, elves, and more, and sought to stop that impending vile behavior here and now before it could begin.
Thankfully, there was another who saw it as well.
"It seems we must," Thorgrim finally said with a bone-weary sigh, causing even greater outcry from the other dwarfs around him. "It seems we must."
And as those two great leaders prepared to fight a battle of words couched in soul and ancient grudge, a Druchii sorceress was settling some of her newest assets into her newest acquisition in her own quiet campaign towards freedom.
*Ugh, dang.
** Eh, maybe. Gonna go fighting though!
*** Hoy! You're dead hard, humie! Ho ho! Kull is gonna love killing you!"
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- Location
- SEAsia
- Pronouns
- Thou
Ah. Here we go. A truer test of friendship between man and dawi...
Thors_Alumni
Proud member of Thors Class VII from Liberl
- Location
- Liberl Zemuria.
oh this is going to be both good and very very bad. Can't wait.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Man the image of a Black Orc in white armor. Color contrast must be surreal.
Jesus christ, it never really penetrated the scale of this WAAGH before in the context of the Old World.
But Kull being considered fearsome by this metric alone, while only being a mere minion of the actual Warbosses in play here...
Moreso than the numbers at play, more than anything else, this gulf really drives the scale of the threat home for me
Chaos Titan Mortars. Well that's a terrifying image.