- Tasha asserting dominance amongst the rest of the younger Herd, exerting seniority and experience in lighter youth spars, as well as in general. Some children are fine with it, some are not. Karola is upset that the others are listening to Tasha more than her, especially because Tasha is so much more casual with violence and pain - she did grow up largely taught by Frederick, Natasha, and the Engineers as much as the literally emotionally incapable Anna. Ori attempts to correct this, only to lose to Tasha in sparring, while Tasha informs Ori that she can't just do everything that Karola won't, to which Ori is uncomprehending and asks 'why not'. Tasha can't answer her and just helps her up.
Options Denied (2344 IC)
The Hohenzollern spar, extreme physical violence to maintain physical prime. A rumour, a idea, applied as only a mad man could. Beginning early in the reign of the generous Magnus
the Pious, during the Age of Rebuilding, with the participation of Jade Wizards the concept was given life. The horror of the concept cannot be completely translated to those that do not understand violence. There is magic yes, but it is the violence that is true horror.
Throwing the human body into a trial of pain. Broken bones, bleeding cuts exposed to the air, shattered arms, legs, and stomachs. Exposure to freezing cold temperatures through use of the Hohenzollern blood-ties to the cold nation of Kislev, when the natural weather patterns of the Northern Empire do not suffice. Simulated terrain alteration, having giant stone biers of fire merrily burning during a spar to simulate a burning field. Even if there could be any martial gain to maintain a required level of ability against the terrors of our world, all of this is a bad thing to subject anyone to.
Magic is not the miracles that priests of faith can perform. Magic is dangerous. Towns slaughtered, villagers lost, horrors of old freed, all possible through one individual with magic. Changing polluted water into drinkable, foretelling the future, restoring lost limbs, curing insanity, are whispered to be possible with magic after many years of study at the Imperial Magic Colleges. Study delays the risk of magic, prolonging the expected moment the magic user will cause a disaster to those without magic. The learned of the Old World know this truth through magic user groups that developed methods to use magic, such as the Ice Witches of Kislev, the Sorcerors of Araby, the Elementalists of Old, the religious group known as Druids of the Old World (there is still debate about if they are in fact a religious group following elder interpretations of nature gods or a magic institution), Necromnacers from practical and theoretical learning sources, the Grail Damsels said to be taught by their Lady of the Lake of Bretonnia, even a few institutions in the Empire of Man before the Colleges of Magic. The most common residents of the Old World would know of the failures from the hedge witches and hedge wizards. The hedgefolk most often do not have any way to learn to use their magic outside of guesswork, leading nearly all hedgefolk onto a path that will summon daemons resulting in the death of the magic user, the death of the good Witch Hunter, and the death of the village the army of daemons slaughtered on their way out of the circle created through killing one hedgefolk in a botched ritualistic sacrifice. From the many, many, many hedgefolk that have died from daemon related incidents, exist the stories and haunted tales residents of the Old World tell fellow parents. Stories to spot signs in those potentially with magic in the hope more people are kept alive than dead. Stories to encourage parents to remove the bloody magic user immediately.
Ostland's Count, as permitted by Emperor Magnus, employs Imperial Jade wizards. Madness, blind faith in Magnus the Pious, the innate habits of a
ostlander, divine revelation from Sigmar? Regardless of whatever drove Ostland's Count to hire witchseeds, the presence of Imperial Jade Wizards make the Hohenzollern spar not immediate suicide. Overexertion, torn hearts, blood loss, mangled limbs, are examples of some forms of bodily harm near fatal for anyone without immediate aid, and some injuries that only a Jade wizard is known to heal. The Hohenzollerns do spar daily, the rumour, if anything, underplays the regularity.
One hour for the normal daily Hohenzollern spar for the Count of Ostland. Two hours for the second daily Hohenzollern spar, the second one is the more personalized for the Count of Ostland. The first spar is maintenance for the Hohenzollern family to maintain martial excellence, the second spar is maintenance for the Count of Ostland to maintain his martial capability. From sparring with Sir Urgdug Greatbellow, boulder sized fists strong enough to fling the Count across the sparring field. Practice in being hunted down in a facsimile of a forest by a intelligent creature with only a fragile stick for protection in both daylight and in the night, through sparring with his gryphon. Preparation against, and in combat with, a ally capable of magical projectiles, when the exotic ice magic of Kislev is used wherein the Count would spar against and with his wife.
No less essential to the Hohenzollern Spar is the amount of food and drink the Hohenzollerns consume. Lavish meals of halfling, ogre, and human invention at the Grand Kitchen of Esmeralda in Wulfenburg, and at Castle Wulfenburg. Fortifying dwarf brews from the greatest dwarf brewmaster of their kind alive, drinks that invigorate the flesh, used as a expensive folk remedy to increase animal quality among some farmers in the Old World. The amount of food consumed daily for the Hohenzollern participants is not cheap for the commoner. Though food requirements are somewhat accessible for free in the Great Kitchens of Esmeralda throughout the Ostland, does nothing to get around the cost of dwarf alcohols.
The 'normal' Hohenzollern spar, the rumour, the legend, the one the stories were born from. Stories of near decapitation. Tales of caged greenskins hauled to Castle Wulfenburg for practical combat experience. Frequency differentials depending on the teller, from daily, to weekly, to four times a week. Truth, exaggeration, and lie, mixed into a rumour long since spread into the rest of the Empire. Told, and retold, for decades among the Ostlanders of Wulfenburg.
The 'normal' Hohenzollern spar, is carried out by the Hohenzollern family. Hohenzollerns face off in individual, group, free-for-all, and single vs group, battles throughout the hour. Depending on the Hohenzollern the participant is armed with a armory, or only a single weapon. Hohenzollerns divide armor into three 'types', 'light armor', 'medium armor', and 'heavy armor'. Hohenzollerns spar with intensity, skill, and relaxation, a disquieting combo to observers. The end of the spar hour marks a transition, time for the healing checks, cleaning of the yard, maintenance of equipment, before carrying on with their day.
These are things associated with the adult Hohenzollerns. According to rumor, children, the inexperienced, and youth, are set to a lower standard.
====================================
2344 IC -
Castle Wulfenburg, Main Courtyard
Eleven-year old going on twelve-years old, Trudi lay on her back on the ground of the courtyard, a great big smile on her face, her Estalian fencing blade lay some distance to her side. Dressed in the 'light armor' training set of a leather armor breastplate, leather bracers, and leather helmet for protection. Her raven necklace stored in her room, a choking hazard and battle weakness to exploit.
Grandfather could move around with a necklace in spars. Trudi would be skilled enough to move her body unobstructed as in a dance during spars with ease, one day.
Spars are fun, spars with cousin Natasha even more so!
Fighting cousin Natasha is how Trudi imagined fighting Grandfather to be like. Reading a opponent's reactions to exploit every movement of the opponent after eventually adapting to the combat style used. Every muscle movement, every action, including the surroundings, calculated. Natasha would deliver a challenge of skill, where Frederick and Logan were older and stronger.
Bows, guns, crossbows, throwing knives, and throwing daggers. Ranged weapons of all kinds, those are Trudi's weapons of choice. Alongside her Estalian fencing blade, for those times when the foe is too close for ranged combat. Guns for sparring would eventually be for when those in The Herd would be ready for the more serious combat of their elders, whenever that would be. Natasha said everything is fine, so everything is fine.
"Tasha, this is dangerous! Children shouldn't be injured this deeply in spars!" Karola was still ranting.
Trudi tilted her head up, the ground scrapping her helm with a low rumble. The world was upside down, a giggle escaped Trudi. Upside-down Karola massaged her arms in agitation, while Natasha's wound was being tended to by a Shallyan, from when Trudi got her hit in. Declared only a flesh wound, with the blade going through the skin on the bare edge of the shoulder, a training accident, according to Tasha. The Shallyan agreed too!
"Then beat me in a spar. This is Ostland, disputes resolved by violence are valid here. Grandfather famously settled disputes with fighting," said Natasha.
Natasha's voice did a cold emotionless tone closer to her mother's voice there. Not that Trudi's thirteen year old going on fourteen years old cousin never displayed emotion. Lately there was a more authoritative attitude in Natasha's actions. Leading the Herd in spars, challenges of random trivia, baking challenges. Trudi smiled in memory of the taste of the sweet rolls. Baking challenges are fun and delicious.
Trudi turned her head to look at her other cousins. Karola was standing there doing nothing but thinking, maybe, red hair curled up in her helmet, wearing the light armor set, and holding a staff. Ori stood at her sister's side, in studded armor, metal bracer, and padded helmet, the medium armor set. Ori's red hair tucked beneath a helmet, with a replica of Brain Wounder at her side. Further to the side sat the triplets Freya, Stephanie, and Wolfila. Freya and Stephanie were dressed in the heavy armor set, with Wolfila wearing a light armor set, maces at their sides today. Watching the confrontation in what Trudi assumed was anticipation.
Trudi felt boredom at the show of it all, without her focus on the yard. Trudi's focus drifted to why she is in Wulfenburg. Monsters from the water, monsters in the woods, dreams, portents. Trouble loomed on the horizon, and nobody could tell where exactly it would come from, beyond it was coming. Marching in a orderly row, marching in a confusing mess, trouble is marching.
Trudi's brother had been vocal at home about the troubles coming, his lack of ability to truly make a difference. Though not so loudly, his displeasure was obvious to Trudi at least. If only some smacks in the yard could fix the problems of the world. The world would be a sparring match magically fixing every problem. No more greenskins, cause they lose a spar. No more food problems, cause a spar is won. Trudi nodded to herself, children fix the world.
Grandfather would win the fight at the coast. Ostland would be the same this year as it was last year. The grace of Morr would not need to be considered next year for decades to come, not so close to home. The empire would win in the south. Everything will turn out alright, dreams are Morr's gift to all to keep living each day with a smile. Because who wouldn't want to live to see tomorrow with a smile? Smiles fight the dark thoughts, dreams of shattered walls, and bad tempered horses.
Battle high fading, Trudi decided to sit up from the ground. Monumental decisions need a long time to be decided upon. Trudi felt now had been long enough in her own thoughts. Trudi stood up from the ground.
Trudi's cousins had changed positions. Karola lay on the ground. Natasha had Karola by the throat in a choke hold. Ori was finishing some stretches. The triplets were watching still.
"I'll take up this fight now." Ori's voice came up. That was a new habit of Ori's, Ori more often would fight Karola's battles when Karola is challenged. Not just when challenged by Natasha either. That Ori waited this long was a sign Trudi missed something. Trudi looked to Natasha.
Natasha didn't look like she exerted much effort to take down Karola. Even with a shoulder wound. Blonde hair, it used to be black no matter what others said, tied up in a braid. Karola had been unhelmeted and was making visible signs of surrender now.
Natasha released Karola. Karola got up from the ground, and made her way over to Trudi to sit down. Karola looked exhausted, as if she may have put in more effort than she usually did to win. Curious.
"Had fun with the spar?" Trudi asked, cause spars are fun.
"Too violent," came the reply from Karola.
Trudi resisted rolling her eyes, this was barely anything. The adults would do more in their spars. Trudi's brother told her of one such spar he participated in once. It was pain, violence, and a long meal at the end. Frederick's enthusiasm for the Hohenzolern spar muted a little before then, so when he told of the spar it came across to Trudi as if he was retelling a good book he didn't understand.
Natasha was looking at Ori, a spar is starting!
"Alright," Natasha said.
==========================
Violence, somewhere on this fantastical world might exist a place where violence is not a common fact of life. Where raiders, greenskins, beastmen, cultists, and others, are not threats to be prepared for. Where stories of horses running without care on seas of grass could be real. Ori wanted to believe there is a place like that, so she would.
Not everyone had the stomach for brutal fighting against the threats of the world. Stories of a goblin screaming out for his body to be sliced up more until the death strike lands told to new mercenary members. Pain from battle wounds overwhelming the mind for experienced army veterans. Wolf pups crying for their dead mother by a hired priest reducing the threat of wolf packs near human settlements. There are those that would care about non-humans, those who would make a suggestion to be generous because the powerful can be, and be laughed at for their kindness.
Tasha's shoulder wound had been treated, it would not interfere in her movement of motion, as was obvious from Tasha's spar with Karola. Tasha is holding a blunted spear for this spar. Ori has her Brainwounder replica. Only one thing left.
"Begin!" Tasha declared.
Ori moved, then Tasha moved, one good placed strike at Ori's throat knocked Ori down.
The spar was over within a minute. Ori, she trained with a blade, yet she could not beat Tasha, today. Some sword fighters could move fast enough past a spear to strike in close no matter how skilled a spearman is, such as Grandfather, greenskin warbosses, goblins, beastmen, undead, giant spiders, dragons, magic users... A long enough list to make spearmen units questioned on their utility as combat units.
Tasha knew her foes, she knew Ori. Had Tasha wielded a hammer, or a sword, would have made no difference. Ori would have lost, though it would have taken longer. Tasha had built her body up more from exercise compared to Ori. If Tasha could not win in skill, she would win in endurance. If Tasha cannot win in endurance she would leave openings to be exploited in her combat form she could take advantage of when her opponent pounced on the weakness.
"I win the dispute," said Tasha, while looking at Karola's eyes. Trying to, at least. Karola wasn't looking at Tasha, she was looking at the sky.
Karola wouldn't be Ori's sister if she didn't dislike violence. Without Karola being herself, Ori wouldn't be Ori. Nothing wrong with disliking violence, nothing at all. People are protected by walls, Karola is kind people, and Ori is her wall.
Ori walked over to where Trudi, Karola,. Wolfila. Stephanie, and Freya were sitting on the ground.
"Us next!" sounded the squeak of youth from Wolfila, as he stood up from the ground. Freya and Stephanie were at his sides, enthusiasm visible on all three of their faces.
"Together, or one at a time?" asked Tasha.
"Together!"
Wolfila rushed in with a mace. Tasha bent her knees, twisting to build momentum with her spear, whacked Woflila in the back of his legs. Wolfila became unbalanced, propelled forward, and fell. Efficient combat destruction. Not usable on a battlefield in a troop formation. Nor very useful against people with better physical forms than Wolfila.
Freya and Stephanie stood on either side of Tasha, or they had. Tasha stepped forwards putting the two behind her. Turning round to face the sisters. Not much of a fight after that, both sisters were not coordinating together. One sister overreached, and Tasha exploited the opening to knock one out fast. Leaving just one left. Spear against mace, when the spear wielder is more experienced, no contest.
"Karola, who wants to learn to fight better?" Tasha questioned.
Karola looked around. Freya, Wolfila, and Stephanie, looked eager. Trudi nodded with great enthusiasm. Ori tried for a stony expression.
"You know who," replied Karola, standing up to leave the sparring yard.
"What if Grandfather dies today? Will you still turn from violence?" Tasha voiced out.
"I ----" Karola was lost for words.
Logically something eventually would kill Grandfather. Grandfather's lifestyle statistically would kill most people eventually, Ori had learned from the tales of the Greatswords when they had their meals with new faces to their numbers. No mater how skilled Grandfather is, no matter how strong, eventually something would kill him, like in Karak Ungor whispered a man whose face was youthful, but had a full hair of grey. If not death in battle then Narlog's Vapors would most likely kill Grandfather.
"You are trying to make me angry," Karola stated. Tasha had slipped into her emotionless face.
"Redirection in the face of a uncomfortable truth. You may leave," Tasha allowed.
Karola walked away in a huff, Ori followed. Ori and Karola walked down the halls of Castle Wulfenburg. Walls decorated with tapestries, showcasing wonders from the Time of Three Emperors. Armies on the march, a empty room of chairs smashed apart, a man with a hammer killing a dragon with another man watching on tears in his eyes practically worshipping the hammer man.
"Argh, that girl! Fighting isn't a answer to all things. Being nice helps others. Fighting is brutal. Painful. Bloody. Everyone likes violence for some why," said Karola, her voice cracking towards the end.
"Grandfather... is Grandfather, without Grandfather..." Karola stumbled over what to say next. "We'll manage somehow," she said with a nod.
Preparation would help soften the day Grandfather would no longer be around. Ori had already set in place her position for Karola. Father would become more busy than he already is. Mother may become more overworked than she already is, Mother is amazing to handle so much each year. Going to parties, managing her businesses, spending time with Ori's siblings, and doing the work Grandfather requests of Mother.
Like Karola said, they would manage without Grandfather. whichever way Grandfather would feel Morr's grasp, in bed, on the battlefield. On a distant shore with all Grandfather's magical gear lost, causing Ostland more suffering than if he just died. They would manage, Grandfather had spent time with the Herd, with her parents, with her uncles and aunts. Grandfather in his own way was preparing for when his time would come. Building emotional connection through memory and preparing for the eventual would have to be enough.
Father stepped into the hallway from a newly open door.
"Karola and Ortrud, do you want to play a game of alvatafl with me?" asked Father.
Both sisters nod their head, following their father to play a board game rather common in the northern Empire of Man.
==========================
Alvatafl, played on a board composed of fifteen squares by fifteen squares for a total of two hundred and twenty-five squares. Played with two players. One side is the 'attacker' trying to capture one playing piece on the side of the opponent. One side is the 'defender' trying to escape the encirclement. Both sides can only move their pieces horizontal or vertical, and cannot pass through any obstruction in the way, such as one of their own pieces, or one of the opponent's pieces. Capture of other pieces is possible for the attacker and defender through two pieces on the same vertical or the same horizontal line being directly next to either side of the line as the square the piece to be captured is on. Each player must move a playing piece when it is their turn, and the defender once it has moved it's central piece cannot return it's central piece to the center. In the empire, the 'defender' has twelve 'elf' playing tokens, and one 'elf prince' playing token. The 'attacker' has forty-eight 'dwarf' playing tokens. In Kislev, the 'defender' has fifteen 'gospodar winged lancer' playing tokens, and one 'ice witch' playing token. The attacker has sixty 'troll' playing tokens.
"And there, I win pappy." Karola smiled at her win against her Father. They are using the Kislev version of Alvatafl. Karola's smile is as big as the sun, red hair gleaming from the chandelier light. Father rubbed his eyes, looking over the board with great concentration. Slowly, Father's head moved up and down with great exaggeration. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ori got into it too, Bobbing along up and down.
It didn't matter Father let her win the game, she won, that's something real. Something all her own. Her ideas were helpful, she was sure of it. She was not fated to fail. Winning is possible. Like when she talked to mother about helping the people at the coast after their ships were burned all those years ago. Grandfather helped the people, without any reward.
Helping is not wrong. Trying everything you can to aid someone is not wrong. Wanting to not fight is not wrong. Wanting to avoid those around you from dying is not wrong.
Smile, for Father. For his tired body that is lacking sleep. Smile for Ori who fully supports you. Smile because nobody else will smile, too serious they all are.
"Hm, do you want to play together now?" Father asked her and Ori.
Karola turned to look at her sister, smile still wide. Ori nodded.
"Sure," the best sister in the land said.
And so began another game.
AN: I have been ramming my head against this omake for long enough, trying to expand it. Well here it is.
Alvatafl based on
hnefatafl games, obscure lore.
