Warhammer Fantasy: Divided Loyalties - an Advisor's Quest

[Boney]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

Spend time with your Journeymanlings:
[*] The Amber Wizard journeymanlings.
[*] The Gold Wizard journeymanlings.
[*] The Jade Wizard journeymanling.

As the Expedition begins to march, you resolve to spend time with the wizards you're now more or less in command of. Black Fire Pass is one of the most carefully-watched areas in the entire Empire; there can be no better time to turn your full attention to your charges.

---

Amber Wizards are those that are in touch with the savagery of nature, and as such many think of them as only tenuously part of the Empire. They have no College within the walls of Altdorf, instead calling the caves of the Amber Hills home. Despite this, they work closely with the Imperial Army, as the heart of the wilds they call home is also home to the terrible Beastmen, to the loathsome Greenskin, and to various feral horrors of the Undead. The call of duty is strong amongst them.

These Amber Wizards are the most mismatched pair of wizards you've ever met, and despite that seem to be inseparable. The woman seems almost your age, and is as muscled as you, though instead of being hidden by robes hers are displayed by furs that leave her arms and legs bare. What you initially take to be her staff is instead (also?) a spear with a wicked jagged point of some sort of glinting black volcanic rock. The man - and you have to keep yourself from thinking of him as a boy - is wiry and lean and has the nervous energy of a rabbit, and always seems to be doing something with his hands - usually knapping stones into arrowheads or turning the corpse of some beast or another into usable meat and skins. They usually keep to themselves, but acknowledge you as you approach - though they deny most of the trappings of civilization, the Amber Order has always kept ties with their sibling Orders.

When you introduce yourselves to them, they give their names as Esbern and Seija. Their reasons for joining the Expedition were simple: they had been working with the Knights of Taal's Fury, and when they left the Empire they decided to tag along. "It is easy to be a Shaman in the depths of the forests," Esbern says as he carefully fletches an arrow; he usually speaks for the two of them when required. "If we can continue to be so in the Badlands, we are truly worthy of the title."

Both are some way into their journeyings, though they have taken different paths; Esbern has been learning the more battle-appropriate magics while Seija seems to prefer spells that improve her control over wild animals. Both can most often be found alone on the outskirts of the camp or among the Knights of Taal's Fury, but they also spend time among the Demigryphs of the Knights of the Vengeful Sun and the titular wolves of the Winter Wolves. They seem irreligious, but respect the veneration of Taal.

---

The difference between the Amber Order and the Jade Order is often lost on those unfamiliar with the Orders, but it is straightforward: The Brown Wind, Ghur, is the Wind of Predator and Prey, of the savagery of nature. The Green Wind, Ghyran, is the Wind of plants and rivers and seasons, of the cycles of nature. A farm rich in Ghyran would be blessed with rich soil and bountiful harvests; a farm rich in Ghur would be overrun by wolves.

While this is the main difference between the Amber and Jade Orders, it is far from the only one. When Teclis founded the Colleges, he gathered together all the formerly outlawed practitioners of magic, and among them were the ancient remnants of the Druids that worshipped the Earth Mother, long supplanted but still lingering on in secret. Upon being shown the pure energies of nature in the form of Ghyran, the majority of the Druids answered the call and became the founders of the Jade College. Theirs is a tradition that dates back far beyond the birth of Sigmar, and they are strongly aware of it.

The Jade Journeyman has the silver sickle of their rank on their belt, and their staff still bears leaves and cherries upon it, and if they stand still for too long their staff begins to put down roots and needs to be convinced to release its grip on the earth. And, to your surprise, she's heard of you.

"I was with the forces of Ostermark as they marched on the Dead Wood," she says breathlessly, apparently awestruck. "We truly did plan to strike into Sylvania, but the horrors of that place! Mordheim was supposed to be long dead, but it was a battleground between Beastmen and Vampires and swarmed with the dead and with chaos alike. By the time it was pacified and every last building was pulled down, Stirland's campaign was over and the Drakenhofs had fallen." She stares at you wide-eyed, somehow giving the impression of looking up at you despite being an inch taller. "Is it true that when the Elector Count fell, you seized command of the Army and forced them to continue? That with magic and sword you toppled the Castle of Drakenhof from the mountain it perched upon and fell to the floor below?"

"Artillery deserves a significant part of the credit," you admit, "but apart from that, yes, that's how it happened."

She squeals, and breathlessly quizzes you about the campaign, and when Asarnil is mentioned she dashes off to her bags and comes back with a copy of his memoirs and you reluctantly sign it. You manage to squeeze a few questions in directed back at her, and she gives her name as Panoramia, apparently named after one of the most skilled potion-makers of her order. She admits her own abilities in that with some reluctance, but says that she couldn't bring her bottles due to their fragility so it's unlikely she'd be able to make more on the road; you admit that you have spells to generate heat (or, technically, to concentrate sunlight) sufficient to melt sand into glass, and she starts squealing all over again. Most of her spells seem focused around plant growth, and she's hoping to find new and exotic types of plants on the expedition, but rapid plant growth does have combat possibilities to go along with the logistical boon they represent.

---

You find the first of the Gold Order Wizards is named Maximilian and is nestled inside one of the dwarven carts; apparently he's bartered transportation for himself in exchange for 'fuelling' the portable forges the dwarves have brought with them. He seems barely more than a teenager, and is disdainful towards you until, after quizzing you on your abilities (which, you suppose, is only fair, since you're also quizzing him on his), he learns that you've some ability as an enchanter. After that, he treats you with respect.

"I," he says with some self-importance, "am a craftsman. Temporary transmutation is a skill known to any of my Order, and permanent transmutation is sought after by all. I have found it in creation. Permanent transmutation is achieved when that which is transmuted is used to create." He waves a hand at the marching dwarves around you. "It is said that dwarves are among the greatest of craftsman. As such, I intend to learn from them, and aiding them in retaking their Karak will be the coin with which I purchase an education." He claims as much ability with martial weapons as he has with the blacksmiths hammer, and says that he forges new weapons for himself with some regularity. You spend some time discussing swords, and your esteem grows in his eyes as you match his knowledge; when the topic moves to blackpowder weapons and you show him your revolver, he goes quiet with awe. "This," he declares, "is the artistry I wish to emulate."

When you leave Maximilian and search for the other Gold Wizard, you find him among the artillery crews. Johann is his name, and to your surprise he's already begun to endear himself to the usually touchy dwarves; those of the Black and Grey Mountains are usually less closed-off than those from the dwarf heartlands of the World's Edge Mountains, but it's still quite the achievement. The man appears around your age and seems surprisingly charismatic for a wizard; it's only your natural suspicion that prevents you from talking easily and naturally to him like you were old friends. He asks about the enemies that you expect to find at Karak Eight Peaks, and when you speak of greenskins he gives you a searching look and then agrees. He says he's here to learn what he can about artillery and ranged weaponry, though when you say that the dwarves tend to be touchy about such things, he says it shouldn't be a problem. The greenskins aren't exactly known for technologically advanced artillery, so you're not sure what he could be looking for, but he doesn't seem inclined to discuss the matter any further, steering you away from the topic such that you almost miss that that's what he's doing.

---

While you occupy yourself with getting to know your charges, the march through Black Fire Pass came and went, and you emerge into the Border Princes - an anarchic region of tiny fiefs and ambitious warlords. The Expedition outnumbers the army even the most powerful of them could bring to bear by a factor of ten, so the possibility of any of them being an issue was not even considered, especially since a large part of what little wealth the region has is from trade with the Dwarfholds that surround it. However, the relative lack of power of the Border Princes has allowed greenskins to flourish in their lands, and as the army marches through the portion of the road flanked by the Forest of Gloom, reports trickle in from the scouts and hunters of the Expedition of minor skirmishes with the inhabitants: the Black Spider tribe of Forest Goblins.

For the first time, the War Council gathers, but the matter at hand is easily decided: the South Road to Barak Varr has the Skull River running between it and the Forest of Gloom, and while its width alone may not deter the Forest Goblins, the ravenous skull-marked piranhas that give it its name will. Hunting parties are an unnecessary luxury, as the food stores of the Expedition will be restocked at Barak Varr. The scouts will watch the river, so that any attempt to bridge it can be met with arrow and bolt. '

Belegar also has an announcement: runners have reached Karaz-a-Karak, and a gyrocopter has answered, bringing not only themselves but also a precious cargo. You feel reality congealing as the tenth member of the War Council enters the tent, for his position equal to any on the expedition could never be in doubt. As his disapproving gaze scans over each member and reaches you, you feel Ulgu shrink away in fear. His staff is topped with the skull of a minotaur preserved in brass, his hammer glows red with heat that never fades, and the armour he wears has each scale marked with a separate rune of power. For the first time in centuries, Kragg the Grim has left Karaz-a-Karak.

---

Currently, Barak Varr is two weeks of marching away. The three of the below with the most votes will be your actions over the coming week.

Campaign Contributions:
[ ] Work with Head Ranger Ulthar Alriksson and Marksman Codrin Petrescu to scout the river bank for crossing Forest Goblins.
[ ] Work with Grand Master Sigwald Kriegersen and the demigryph knights to ensure the road ahead remains clear.
[ ] Work with Thane Skaroki Grimbrow in the Rearguard to ensure that the bridge across the Skull River remains unused by the greenskins.

Spend time with the Council of War:
[ ] King Belegar Ironhammer
[ ] Master Runelord Kragg the Grim (?)
[ ] Thane Skaroki Grimbrow
[ ] Head Ranger Ulthar Alriksson
[ ] Master Engineer Durin Wutokri
[ ] Grand Master Sigwald Kriegersen
[ ] Grand Master Ruprecht Wulfhart
[ ] Marksman Codrin Petrescu
[ ] Marshal Titus Muggins

Spend time with your Journeymanlings:

Esbern and Seija of the Amber Order
[ ] Test their skills in battle.
[ ] Join them as they probe the greenskin infestation in the Forest of Gloom.

Panoramia of the Jade Order
[ ] Help her blow bottles and flasks for her to perform her potion-making.
[ ] Guard her as she ventures into the Forest of Gloom to hunt for useful ingredients.

Maximilian de Gaynesford of the Gold Order
[ ] Ask him to reforge your sword into a superior one.
[ ] Introduce him to the dwarven smiths so he can try to convince them to teach him.
[ ] Ask the smiths to teach him as a favour to you (-2 favours)

Johann of the Gold Order
[ ] Help him find a place with the dwarf artillery crews so that he can supplement their abilities in combat.
[ ] Keep tabs on his interactions with the dwarves, making sure he's not fishing for information that the dwarves want to keep for themselves.


- If there's anything else you want to do with your journeymanlings, let me know and I'll add them.
- The journeymanlings have been added to the Dramatis Personae page, including the spells known by each of them and descriptions of those spells.

 

[Boney]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[*] Work with Head Ranger Ulthar Alriksson and Marksman Codrin Petrescu to scout the river bank for crossing Forest Goblins.
[*] Help her blow bottles and flasks for her to perform her potion-making.
[*] Head Ranger Ulthar Alriksson

A glass kiln is easy enough to make; doubly so when there's plenty of manpower that you can borrow from one of your fellow councillors, triply so when it's actually dwarfpower. The difficult part is heating it - you've no charcoal and not enough time to make it. Luckily, far above you all there exists all the energy one could ever ask for; all you need is to know how to harness it.

You concentrate, and Ulgu solidifies into a darkened lens. That's the easy part. Sweat beads on your brow as you slowly and steadily expand it, the shadow cast by it growing steadily. A small crowd of men and dwarves watch from what they consider a safe distance, edging away from the shadow as it approaches, and you've warned them not to look directly at the light so when they do it'll be entirely their own fault. Within the kiln, the focal point glows brighter and brighter as more and more sunlight is redirected into it. The rest of it isn't magic, but it resembles it: sand is made to run like honey and then formed into useful shapes, and when it cools again it is no longer a loose collection of grains, but instead glass.

Panoramia chatters away as she gathers molten glass on the end of her blowpipe, interrupted only briefly by having to blow down it to form the shapes desired. Airtightness, she explains with enthusiasm, is one of the key useful properties of glass; being water-tight, too, goes without saying, but she says it anyway. The slow march of rot can be ceased by proper storage; seeds kept in one's pocket will grow damp and try to sprout and inevitably die, but seeds kept in a phial sealed with wax will keep indefinitely. The same goes for the finished product: apart from the obvious advantage of not spilling as easily, a potion once brewed will keep much longer in a glass bottle than in, say, a tankard. And a bottle one has blown themselves is known to be completely sterile - if you used an old wine bottle to keep your potions in, who knows how leftover traces of wine will interact with the potion?

The gathered crowd disperses once they realize you're not going to do anything more interesting than fuel a kiln, though the dwarves do nod to themselves at such a sensible use for the suspect manling art of wizardry.

[Unescorted Gathering: 12, 98]

A few days later, Panoramia ambushes you as you return to camp, cheerfully reporting her progress; you're not sure if she considers you invested since you helped make the bottles or if she's latched onto you as a mentor figure. Her delves into the Forest of Gloom were largely uneventful, but progress was severely limited by having to skirt widely around tracts of giant spider territory. Finally, she stumbled across something that made the trip worthwhile: a lake covered in competing plant life, and in the center, a dense growth of flowers, of a shade of purple so dark that it seems black. You only covered the basics of poisons at College, but this one certainly came up: the black lotus, the source of the most popular domestic poison in the Empire, available to any foolish enough to venture into the deepest parts of the forests of the Empire's south.

"I've never heard of them growing this big," she reports happily. "The piranhas must have kept the goblins from harvesting them, and a few had well-developed seed heads." She shows you a phial filled with bulbous lotus seeds, each the same dark purple as the flower. "Poisons are just the flip side of potions, and can be just as useful."

---

Among dwarves, to be a Ranger is to be as un-dwarflike as one can be while still contributing to the good of the Hold. To spend months in the sunlight and the open air, to deal regularly with other races, to skirmish and ambush and employ all sorts of underhanded tactics instead of meeting the enemy head-on; this is the role of the Ranger. Ulthar Alriksson greets you warmly as you intrude on the planning session with Marksman Petrescu; Petrescu follows suit with some hesitation, clearly uncomfortable in your presence. You can guess why: his is a Sylvanian name.

With minimal input from Petrescu, Ulthar outlines the current plan: to patrol the length of the river, from the bridge behind you to the point ahead where Barak Varr's patrols will meet yours. If the forest goblins want to fight, they'll have to bridge the river to avoid the ravenous inhabitants, and that will take time. Time enough, in theory, for patrolling forces to spot the attempt and sound the alarm. It's simple enough that you're not sure how you can contribute except for adding another pair of eyes, until you spot a stack of spare horns, the type used by the scouts to signal an attack.

Normally, enchanting is a long and drawn-out process; the reason for this is that magic really doesn't like to be trapped in one place doing one thing indefinitely. (Talking about magic as if it had desires rather than just a nature is useful shorthand, but whether it is actually true is the source of a great deal of debate.) Trapping it temporarily to do something once, on the other hand, is magnitudes easier - and magnitudes more when the desired effect is the sort of petty magic apprentices begin their education with. You get the hesitant okay of your fellow councillors and then begin to gather your will as they watch uneasily, neither dwarf nor Sylvanian entirely comfortable around magic.

[Enchanting the horns: Learning, 78+20=98]

Your demonstration of it, however, may go some way to allaying their fears. Theoretically, any type of wizard could achieve this effect, as it requires magic for power but not for direction. But Ulgu is especially suited, and it allows you to change the very nature of the sound produced so that not only is it louder, but that it would not fade in volume for dozens of miles. They are only good for a single blow apiece, but that is all that will be needed, for all from Averland to Barak Varr will hear this alarm.

---

Petrescu goes one way up the river to distribute the empowered horns, and you join Ulthar as he goes the other. He has a pony that he uses when the steady pace of a dwarf isn't sufficient, and at your offer and after a great deal of thought, he leaves it behind in favour of a shadowhorse you summon for him. At first he has the grim expression of a dwarf expecting to suffer for the good of his hold, but eventually concedes that he's ridden on worse.

As you ride together, he engages in the favourite pastime of dwarves, at least when there's no ale around: boasting about their home hold. The Hornhold, he tells you, is built at the site of a natural series of caves which howled in the wind, so the dwarves carefully carved out the interior and added enormous valves and gates so that they could sound it at will. He also goes some way into the geopolitics, which is apparently quite involved - instead of being a single kingdom, it is surrounded by splinter holds built atop one vein of metals or another, but they remain linked together in a dozen different ways by oath and by blood. As it was still young when the Time of Woes started, it was never linked into the Underway, which means it never fell prey to the thaggoraki despite being so close to their origin.

"Thaggoraki," you repeat, half to yourself. You've heard that word before. "Beastmen?"

He opens his mouth to reply, then pauses. "While 'aye' would not be incorrect," he says thoughtfully, "It doesn't quite communicate the nature of the vermin. The beastmen that lurk in the woods of your Empire are a very different breed to those that burrow beneath the earth. They are ratmen, boundless in number; in your tongue, they are called Skaven."

The words echo unpleasantly in your head, and grow. A thought unfolds uncomfortably in your mind, and you're taken back to a day forgotten some fifteen years ago. A voice, unfamiliar to you, droning in a bored voice. "Number thirty-two. The Ratmen and the Conspiracy of Silence. If you believe you are accessing this memory in error, please contact the Grey College at your earliest convenience." Information blossoms, summoned by a name erased from history. A terrible enemy, an empire underground. Numbers, mutability, wizardry, technology, stealth, poison, disease, all the ingredients to wipe out humanity, missing only one: unity. Knowledge suppressed so that they felt secure enough to war among themselves. Emperor Mandred, whose death plunged the Empire into centuries of civil war, slain by ratman assassins. Once he was known as the Skavenslayer; now he is the Ratslayer, and given another century or two, perhaps he will be the Beastslayer.

You swallow, and taste blood. "Them," you say faintly. "I know of them."

---

[Do the goblins make a move? 14]
[Scout results: 98+10(horns)=108]

The next day, the greenskins make their move, and a horn to challenge the Hornhold sounds. A hundred thousand men and dwarves on the march screeching to a halt and trying to about face is not a pretty sight, but the chain of command quickly leaps into action in trying to restore order and those of you fortunate enough to be mounted race ahead. You easily outstrip the others and are the first to arrive at a point where a dwarven ranger is staring with a mix of surprise and satisfaction across the river at a scene of terrible carnage, as hundreds of spiders happily bind dead, dying and paralyzed goblins in web.

"The greenskins were gathering," he says distractedly, "So I blew the horn, and before you got here they did." He waves vaguely in the direction of the spiders. "That's only some of them. The rest of them were chasing the goblins as they ran away."

You stare at the spiders. One of them stares back at you. You can almost see the arachnid thought patterns as it tries to figure out whether it can get across the river. Then it apparently decides that a bird in the pedipalps is worth any number in the bush, and turns back to join its fellow in feasting.

The unofficial motto of the Colleges of Magic: when in doubt, act mysterious. Your smug smile is fixed in place as the first of the other riders arrives.

---

+2 Dwarf Rep: The Spider Incident

Currently, Barak Varr is one week of marching away. The far side of the river is no longer full of gloomy forest - now it gives way to the open plains theoretically under control of various Border Princes and sometimes under the control of the Bloody Spears tribe of Night Goblins. You have begun to pass patrols from Barak Varr. The road is most likely safe here.

The three of the below with the most votes will be your actions over the coming week.


Contributing to the Campaign:
[ ] Rangers appreciate an anticlimactic victory. Enchant a spider-horn for them to commemorate it. (+rep)
[ ] Have Ulthar handpick his best sharpshooters to be equipped with envenomed bolts.
[ ] There's a fork ahead, with a bridge across the Skull River. Join the Grand Masters in riding ahead and guarding it, just in case.


Spend time with the Council of War:
[ ] King Belegar Ironhammer
[ ] Master Runelord Kragg the Grim (?)
[ ] Thane Skaroki Grimbrow
[ ] Master Engineer Durin Wutokri
[ ] Grand Master Sigwald Kriegersen
[ ] Grand Master Ruprecht Wulfhart
[ ] Marksman Codrin Petrescu
[ ] Marshal Titus Muggins


Other Preparations:
[ ] You've heard that greatswords and greataxes are near identical in the way they're used, and you happen to be surrounded by experts in the art of the axe. Learn how to use one.
[ ] Barak Varr has a number of Runepriests, and Kragg the Grim himself is marching with the Expedition. There's not likely to be a better time to commission a runic item (Specify: type of item, desired effect, number of favours to be spent)


Spend time with your Journeymanlings:

Esbern and Seija of the Amber Order
[ ] Test their skills in battle.

Panoramia of the Jade Order
[ ] The Forest of Gloom is still accessible if you summon a horse for her. Guard her as she ventures back into the Forest of Gloom to hunt for useful ingredients.

Maximilian de Gaynesford of the Gold Order
[ ] Ask him to reforge your sword into a superior one.
[ ] Introduce him to the dwarven smiths so he can try to convince them to teach him.
[ ] Ask the smiths to teach him as a favour to you (-2 favours)

Johann of the Gold Order
[ ] Help him find a place with the dwarf artillery crews so that he can supplement their abilities in combat.
[ ] Now that you know (well, remember) a little more, a certain suspicion is growing. Pin him down and ask his intentions regarding Skaven technology.
[ ] Keep tabs on his interactions with the dwarves, making sure he's not fishing for information that the dwarves want to keep for themselves.

 

[Boney]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[*] Rangers appreciate an anticlimactic victory. Enchant a spider-horn for them to commemorate it. (+rep)
[*] Now that you know (well, remember) a little more, a certain suspicion is growing. Pin him down and ask his intentions regarding Skaven technology.
[*] King Belegar Ironhammer

The King of Karak Eight Peaks does not ride - he marches with his Clan. It is at the end of a day's march that you find him slowly turning a spit of meat over a fire that, on closer inspection, turns out to be the leg of an enormous spider. You politely decline as he offers you some.

"Heard more about you since you joined," he says thoughtfully. "The business in the land of the Vampires. Neat bit of work, that."

"It needed doing," you say simply.

He nods. "There's a lot that does, and yet so precious few that do. Even among my folk." He sighs. "All speak of the importance of keeping to the old ways, yet those that do are the ones that help the least. Nine dwarves in ten that answered my call to arms are from Holds that were mere outposts during the Time of Woes, and outnumbering even them are the manlings. By Grimnir's beard, even with Kragg counting for five I'd have more wizards than Runepriests!" He sighs. "No offence to your lot, but my ancestors needed no Wizards."

"Nor did they need gunpowder, yet I see no tugging of beards over handguns and cannon."

Unexpectedly, he chuckles. "You've got me there, young Zhufokri. I've oft wondered if things would be different, had we dwarves discovered the power of blackpowder three centuries earlier and been able to use it in the defence of my Karak."

You nod. "I think the same, sometimes. We humans have only allowed and trained Zhufokri for one hundred and seventy-four years, and there's no telling how many historical events we could have tipped the scales at."

He pulls the spit out of the fire and gives it a cautious sniff. "Well, here's to progress," he says, pulling a chunk of flesh out of the cracked carapace and popping it into his mouth. He grimaces at the taste, but it doesn't stop him from reaching for more.

---

Rangers, more than most dwarves, value efficiently mass-produced death over finely-crafted artisan slaughter. An idea occurs to you for capitalizing on the fortunate chain of events that routed the goblins before they could even begin their attack: the creation of a horn commemorating the vicotry.

As before, enchantment is normally a long process, so to cut it down to a couple of days means sacrifices need to be made. This time you can't sacrifice permanence without countering the entire point of the item, so the intended effect needs to be reduced. A pitch-perfect horn that blows well no matter how weak the breath of the blower; a suitable commemoration, you decide, and it should only take a few days. You fold Ulgu into enchanting tools and begin.

[Enchanting: Learning, 6+20=26]

Two days later, the unearthly caterwauling coming from your creation comes to an ignominious end with you shattering it with a hammer. Perhaps you made it far too sensitive, as the slightest breeze or the merest movement would set off the hornblow, which struggled to hold a constant note with so variable an origin. Perhaps there was no way around this without making the horn require a blower instead of wind, but sensing the difference would have taken even longer to enchant into the item. When you emerge from your tent, you're getting an awful look of nervous looks. You fight back a scowl, and decide to lay low over the next few days.

---

You find Johann at an isolated end of the most recent campsite, practising his firing drill into the side of a hill. Knowing how rude it would be to interrupt someone's martial training, you watch as he loads and fires with slightly clumsy motions. Unlike the muzzle-loading handguns used in the Empire, the dwarven handgun he has somehow gotten his hands on loads from the base of the barrel. It seems to be a much more efficient design for reloading - he sends six rounds downrange in a minute with an obviously untrained hand, where an expert with an Empire handgun could just about manage four.

"Fantastic devices," he says over his shoulder to you as the echo of the last shot fades from your ears. "We could learn much from the dwarves."

"I agree," you say, "But we could earn a terrible enemy in the process, if they object to the learning."

"Ah," he says, as he peers down the barrel to check for blockages. "Is that what you're worried about?"

You glance around to make sure none are in range to overhear. "Your spells are tailored for it, and none of the alternatives are good. There are three possible targets for you at Karak Eight Peaks: one are our allies, one who are not known for technology, and one who are not known, period."

He gives you a calculating look. "I could have sworn you didn't know. Bloody Grey Mages." He slings the handgun over his shoulder. "Look, the ratmen are hideously gifted at technological artifice," he says. "Much of it incorporates wyrdstone, and I intend to find out whether it's fully reliant on it or just uses it for a power boost or to blunt-force past shoddy construction. If the underlying premise of their weaponry is sound, then it can be adapted for use with the proper Winds of Magic, or ideally, for entirely non-magical gun crews."

"And if it is entirely reliant on wyrdstone?"

He raises his hands. "That would be useful information to take back to the Gold Order, and it would end our study of Skaven machinery. We've no desire to breach Article Seven."

"And your time with the dwarves?"

"I like dwarves." You give him a flat look, and he smiles. "That truly is the sole reason. If I earn enough favour during this expedition that they give me another secret or two to take home of their own free will, then so be it, but I'm not going to endangering the oldest and truest alliance we have to learn how to make slightly better cannon."

You give him a searching look, and he smiles back at you. He seems to be telling the truth, but he also seems to be glib enough that if he was lying you might not catch it. "Very well," you say reluctantly. "Just make sure your dealings with the dwarves are all above board."

"Of course. Will that be all, Magister?"

"For now." You watch as he turns away and resumes his firing drill once more.

---

As you approach Barak Varr, the only indication that you actually are doing so is the rising frequency of their patrols that pass and the excitement of the dwarves you journey with. As far as you can tell, the gently rising slope continue until it plunges off a cliff face into the sea. It is only when the rise is circled around to the edge of the Black Gulf that Barak Varr becomes visible, dug into the enormous cave the tides have dug into the Varenka Hills.



Barak Varr is the trading center of the Dwarven Empire. Roads and rivers through the Border Princes link it to Karaz-a-Karak, to Karak Hirn, to Zhufbar, to Karak Izor. Human traders disembark goods here to travel overland to the Empire rather than risking the dangers of the Sea of Claws to sail to Marienburg and the rivers of the Empire. By land, expeditions set out through the three mountain passes - the Silver Road, held by the dwarves, Mad Dog Pass, held by the Border Princes, and Death Pass, held by the greenskins - to make the long overland voyage through the Dark Lands. Their destination can be the Dragon Isles, or Ind, or Cathay, and in any of which they can find silk and spices and precious stones enough to make vast fortunes equal to the dangers of the trip.

Belegar unexpectedly declares that the expedition will call Barak Varr home for the next week as he enters talks with the King of Barak Varr, Byrrnoth Grundadrakk.

---

Between Barak Varr's runepriests and the presence of Kragg the Grim, this is the time to commission a runic item if ever there was one. Will you?
[ ] Yes
[ ] No

Also choose how many favours you'll invest, in what sort of item, and in broad strokes what the purpose will be. Even if you vote [ ] No, you can vote on what the item would be should [ ] Yes win. Because of Kragg's presence, there is no maximum amount of favours that can be invested in a single item.

---

As you are staying put instead of on the march, the top FIVE actions will be chosen; four if runic item is commissioned.

Contributing to the Campaign:
[ ] For the sake of your curiosity, sit in on some of the meetings between the two Kings.
[ ] Have Ulthar handpick his best sharpshooters to be equipped with envenomed bolts.
[ ] Many mercenaries look for work at Barak Varr among trades looking to make the long and dangerous trip to the east. See if any can be convinced to join the Expedition instead.


Spend time with the Council of War:
[ ] Master Runelord Kragg the Grim (?)
[ ] Thane Skaroki Grimbrow
[ ] Master Engineer Durin Wutokri
[ ] Grand Master Sigwald Kriegersen
[ ] Grand Master Ruprecht Wulfhart
[ ] Marksman Codrin Petrescu
[ ] Marshal Titus Muggins


Other Preparations:
[ ] You've heard that greatswords and greataxes are very similar in the way they're used, and you happen to be surrounded by experts in the art of the axe. Learn how to use one.
[ ] Barak Varr is one of the greatest centers of trade in the world. Spend some time browsing to see if you find anything interesting.


Spend time with your Journeymanlings:

Esbern and Seija of the Amber Order
[ ] Test their skills in battle by sparring with them.
[ ] Have them help you teach your fast-growing familiar simple commands.
[ ] Help Seija teach Esbern to Dispel.

Panoramia of the Jade Order
[ ] Barak Varr is a trading hub; go shopping with her and employ your good name among dwarves to see if there's seeds of anything useful to be found.
[ ] The Black Lotus is a valuable trade good for those that encounter large and terrible beasts. Assist her in growing and selling some while you're here.

Maximilian de Gaynesford of the Gold Order
[ ] Ask him to reforge your sword into a superior one.
[ ] Introduce him to the dwarven smiths so he can try to convince them to teach him.
[ ] Ask the smiths to teach him as a favour to you (-2 favours)
[ ] Ask him to teach Johann to Dispel.

Johann of the Gold Order
[ ] Help him find a place with the dwarf artillery crews so that he can supplement their abilities in combat.
[ ] Keep tabs on his interactions with the dwarves, making sure he's not fishing for information that the dwarves want to keep for themselves.
[ ] Dwarf technology may be off limits, but the technology of other races are not and there could be all sorts of useful gadgets coming in from overseas. See if you can pick anything useful up with him from the vast markets of Barak Varr.


- If there's anything else you'd like to get up to in Barak Varr, let me know and I'll add it to the list.
- It is possible to enchant firearms, but the effects will be significantly less for the same amount of favours due to the difficulty and the relative newness of that type of weapon.
- It is possible to have the dwarves make a staff for you; this will not have the benefits of an increase to magic that a 'normal' staff would have, but it would allow them more 'room' to work with and thus will let them squeeze more in for the same amount of favours.
- It is possible for the Dwarves to make a magical banner for you, featuring your Coat of Arms. These generally have protective effects that extend to both the carrier and nearby allies.
- A runic axe or hammer will have slightly more power than a runic sword, due to the time spent grumbling over having to work on an improper Umgi weapon.
- Giving dwarves a general direction to go in, like making a weapon better at killing or making a talisman for protection, will have stronger results than trying to micromanage the exact effect of the runes.
- To put it another way: Exchanging favours for a magic item isn't the same as walking into a shop and commissioning something with good solid gold. It's indicating with subtlety and tact that you would be appreciative of an artifact of a certain type, and the dwarves take the hint and something is created to reward you for the good you have done for the dwarven people. As such, the less you specify, the more room they have for their imaginations (and mine!) to be fired up by the task and for them to create a magical wonder.

 

[Alliterate]

Back cover blurb on a lightly-chewed copy of The Knight Witch Hunts 1: Beastmen, Goblins and Orcs, Oh My.

For her service, MAGDA WESSEN, talented WIZARD has graduated as the Empires youngest GREY MAGISTER, but still she guards her heart. The DARK PLOT that slew her Master in The Witch and her Hunter 1: Murder Most Foul (available from all good book sellers) has been revealed, but it's DEPREDATIONS extended further than Magda could have ever imagined, into the IMPERIAL PALACE itself- with TRAGIC and UNSPEAKABLE consequences!

With unrest rising across the Empire, Magda foresees dark times ahead, while her enemies- JEALOUS of her talent- manoeuvre the prominent KNIGHT-WIZARD into leading a band of Journeymen, including the precocious young Jade Wizard potionmaker CONSTANCE BREW (YA series available now!) on a PERILOUS mission deep into the WORLDS EDGE MOUNTAINS. But first, a dangerous journey through the BORDER PRINCES and BADLANDS awaits...

Will Magda's PURE HEART, SHADOW MAGIC and SWORD be enough to overcome the hordes of GREENSKINS and BEASTMEN and protect those she cares about? What DARK DEEDS will be done in the Empire while it's BRAVEST PROTECTOR is in the distant Worlds Edge Mountains? And can ANYONE take up the challenge of replacing Magda's LOST LOVE and opening her heart once more?

Author: Stabreim Knochenbeinern

 

[Horium]

This got away a bit from me, but I was inspired by the last couple of chapters, so here's an unrealistic what if snippet of sorts.

Omake:

The Thirteen Warlords;
Or How Belegar Ironhammer Rolled A (Supernatural) Crit


Luitpold von Holswig-Schliestein, The Protector Of The Empire, Emperor Himself, Son of Emperors, The Elector-Count of Reikland and the Prince of Altdorf, slowly clenched and unclenched his fists as he strived mightily not to cave-in the hollow skulls of his yowling Elector-Counts with Ghal-Maraz, those yokels Todbringer and Gausser in particular.

A tall man and with a striking presence, ordinarily noted for his calmness and charisma, The Emperor was a natural-born diplomat with a formidable intellect, both his mind and his courtier skills honed to be as sharp as a dwarven steel-trap by both his own gruelling efforts and the various teachings of some of the greatest minds of the Old World that gold, influence, favours and duty could obtain.

And yet, he found himself nearly powerless before the stubbornness and sheer stupidity of not only his de-iure princely equals, but even the holy High Priests of the Empire's two greatest Cults, the four of them behaving as if they were some village mutts fighting over a bone, the remaining Elector-Counts doing next-to-nothing to calm them.

To his shame and growing ire, Luitpold could almost sense the disgust rolling off from the present Dwarf Prince Belegar Ironhammer, whose request for aid from the Empire in retaking his ancestral kingdom had the dubious honour of being the formal topic of this Elector-meet, before the situation had deteriorated.

The Empire was on the threshold of a civil war, and for what?

Because of a pair of valleys, a forest and a couple of villages?

It was madness, simple madness.

As the time passed, with all the sane efforts at negotiation being for naught, and with the situation rapidly approaching the point of no return, Luitpold could feel a yawning pit slowly opening beneath him.

In desperation, and to keep himself from physically expressing his discontent with some rather permanent consequences, The Emperor opened his mouth and bellowed from the bottom of his stomach:

"Let the Gods judge."

"What?" snarled the Ar-Ulric and The Grand-Theogonist, united for the first time in almost a year in their response.

Luitpold felt a chill down his spine. He finally had the room's undivided attention, and little idea what to do with it. But enough was enough, and employing all of his charisma, all of his experience and all of his training, Luitpold bullshitted like never before:

"Let the Gods judge! Since before the birth of Empire, since before the birth of Sigmar himself, when a judgement was deemed too difficult for the warriors, shamans and chiefs of a tribe to decide, a grand task was given to the injured parties, to prove their claim just before the Gods and tribe!
We have an impossible judgement. And we have such a grand task before us. The grandest and noblest task possible! Of aiding our truest and oldest allies in retaking their taken homeland.
Prove your cause just before all of us standing here today and the Gods themselves, prove your ancestral claim right by aiding Clan Angrund in their task. Let those who are in the right be judged so by the Gods with how much their efforts contribute to the retaking of Karak Eight Peaks. Thus speak I, the Emperor!"

A harsh silence settled on the meeting before suddenly chaos erupted. In the cacophony, Luitpold could hear just a few snatches of the words being spoken, none of which exactly filled him with hope.

"Are we some bloody Bretonnians, to go on a hare-brained quest?" demanded a giant of a man, clad in Nordland regalia.

"Did you just compare the arbitration of the highest matters of the state to some barbaric, ancient ritual?" sardonically asked a foreboding man with a black widow's peak, the runefang Bloodbringer strapped to his belt.

"Your Grace, you overstep your bounds. Who can say whose contribution was blessed by the divine? Gods' will is unknown to mortals, yourself included." remarked stiffly one of the Arch-Lectors present.

Even the dwarf lord, Belegar, positively boiled with repressed anger. For all that he needed aid, he seemed to not appreciate his solemn request for aid being treated as an excuse to herd the elector-cats.

Luitpold imagined he could hear a dwarf grudge coming, banging and crushing as it rolled down the mountains like a giant stone. Or maybe it was just the sound of his head-ache increasing.

"Well, why not?" asked one of the present nobles.

Silence descended again on the gathered luminaries as they all turned to a an eccentric figure, vigorously pacing with hands behind his back, seeming to be possessed by some strange righteous fervour.

"What a marvellous idea! Yes, why not? I would be honoured to volunteer my armies for this grand venture. And my warchest. No sleepy hamlet needed as reward, even." brightly concluded the Elector-Count of Averland, his impressive moustache split into two halves down the middle, with the left half coloured a garish yellow and the right half painted a dark red.

Luitpold barely stopped himself from laughing when he saw the fish-out-of-water expressions that the Lords of Nordland and Middenland sported.

Further and completely inevitable exclaims of further outrage were stopped in their tracks when the eccentric (and some rumoured insane) Elector Count of Averland was followed by a loud proclamation from an unlikely source.

"I, too, support this task. The armies of Hochland will march to dwarven aid. I shall lead them myself!"

The Elector-Count of Hochland was known by all to be a rational, sensible man, with an excellent head for numbers and governing, prone to caution and one rarely moved by passions and emotions.

The fact that such a man was standing proudly with straightened shoulders and with his head held high, a brilliant gleam in his eye impossible to miss, had the gathering disquieted. Leitdorf was one thing, but this?

Leitpold sensed the momentum was finally on his side and pounced:

"I hope that it goes without question, that both Reikland and the Imperial Office shall support our ancient allies in this matter, with all the means at their disposal." The Prince of Altdorf silkily stated.

"Hell, I will drink to that! You will have Ostland's Swords, dwarfking!" a bearded, barrel-chested warrior in half-plate shouted, before doing good on his word and drinking heavily from a gargantuan drinking horn yellowed with age.

"And Axes of Talabecland!" roared its Elector-Count as well, his figure resembling more an ancient bear mistakenly clothed in silks than a proper aristocrat.

"And the Guns of Ostermark." grimly concluded a wiry noble representing the League of Ostermark.

With a long-suffering sigh, Elector-Count of Wissenland joined in, his customary drawl gone from his voice.

"If my people hear that I didn't support a dwarven reclamation efforts, and that you sorry lot did, I won't reach Nuln alive. The factories of Nuln and the armies of Wissenland are yours, noble dwarf. Use them well."

"It seems to me, that an army marches on its stomach. And when it comes to the matters of the stomach, I think we halflings know a thing or two. The Moot will be happy to lend its food stocks and cooks to the cause!"

With the new Elector Count of Stirland casting baleful glances at the halflings, Leitpold the First watched with satisfaction as even the stand-offish and newly ascended Elector-Count of Stirland was pressured into promising whatever support she could spare from occupation of newly conquered parts of Sylvania.

Which left just the four troublemakers. Elector-Counts of Middenland and Nordland glanced at each other, before trying to outdo each other with promises of support.

Of course, their efforts paled before the shouting match that again took off between the venerable Ar-Ulric and Grand-Theogonist, with each thundering about their holy duty against the Forces of Destruction.

All the while, Belegar Ironhammer and his bodyguards watched in dumbfounded disbelief.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


All in all, Belegar was quite satisfied. For all that the manlings had behaved reprehensibly for much of the Elector-Meet, and that the method through which they came to an agreement to help him was... unorthodox to put it mildly, he couldn't argue with the results.

Not when he marched at the head of over 600 000 strong fully equipped and supplied manling army, many thousands of which were their knights, with hundreds upon hundreds of cannons and with their wizards and war-priests coming in force.

The rumours said that the High King had even spilled the precious and rare Bugman's beer on himself, such was his shock when he had heard the news, and that he had ordered the whole of Karaz Ankor to summon their throngs to the Karak Eight Peaks, lest they be shamed before the eyes of the Ancestors for not answering Clan Angrund's call when the Umgi had.

Belegar could feel his teeth spread again in a bloodthirsty grin, his sixth that morning, twice more than he had smiled in the last twenty years.

The gobbos and the rats won't know what hit them.

 

[Boney]

Spoiler

[*] Yes
-[*] Talisman
-[*] 15 Favors
-[*] Protection

[*] Have them help you teach your fast-growing familiar simple commands.
[*] Barak Varr is a trading hub; go shopping with her and employ your good name among dwarves to see if there's seeds of anything useful to be found.
[*] Many mercenaries look for work at Barak Varr among trades looking to make the long and dangerous trip to the east. See if any can be convinced to join the Expedition instead.
[*] Barak Varr is one of the greatest centers of trade in the world. Spend some time browsing to see if you find anything interesting.

Favours as currency is an art that the Grey College excels at, since the Vow of Poverty rather limits using currency as currency. To cash in said favours is not as simple as handing coin over to a shopkeeper and having them at your service. It takes care, tact, and dropping a great deal of hints. You spend time with various dwarves high up enough in circles to have the ear of those that matter, sharing a drink or two and speaking of the Sylvanian campaign; how it might be nice to have some sort of ornament to wear as a memento of those times, and of the great work you did with (and for) the dwarven Throng. There's no explicit acknowledgement, just a few deep, thoughtful nods, and just like that a nugget of information enters the collective knowledge of the assembled dwarves: the means to settle an outstanding debt. Somewhere, someone is having a quiet word with Kragg the Grim; he's ranking his level of disapproval and finding that he disapproves of the Dwarven Empire being in your debt more than he does crafting an item for a manling. Various dwarves are plucked from the gathered Throng, both of adventurers from Zhufbar and from the assembled dwarves from Karak Kadrin, and the events of the Sieges of the Drakenhofs nearly two years ago now are recounted in exhausting detail.

Somewhere, a stammering and overawed Barak Varr Runepriest surrenders his forge to a living legend, and Kragg the Grim sets to work settling a debt.


---

If one could even say there's such a thing as a 'conventional' dwarfhold, Barak Varr would be the opposite of it. Far from being isolated, conservative and dour, Barak Varr is full of life and activity and visitors from across the world. The vast harbours are full of ships, sleek Tilean galleys, vast Estalian galleons, proud Bretonnian corsairs, nimble Arabyan dhows and mighty Empire Wolfships, but outnumbering them is the mighty navy of the Dwarves. Driven by closely-guarded secrets of steam and smoke, they have no need of the sails or oars that feature on every human ship present, and they fill the space that is saved with armour and guns. The nimble monitors capable of patrolling the many rivers of the Border Princes region, the mighty ironclads that bristle with guns, and here and there, the dreadnoughts, so massive and costly that barely one is built a generation.

If those were not wonders enough, the markets of Barak Varr rival the harbour in grandeur and are greater even than those of Altdorf or Marienburg. You see barrels and mounds of spices that you've previously seen only in measures of pinches and pouches, entire bolts of precious silk stacked as haphazardly as if they were the most inferior wool, and under the careful watch of guards of a dozen nationalities or more, handfuls of precious stones glimmering brilliantly in the torchlight. Everywhere you look there are wonders, drawn in from every corner of the world, whether from long, gruelling oversea voyages that round entire continents, or from overland trips through territory held by greenskin and undead and other, even fouler threats. Hawkers not only sell their wares but actively recruit for the next voyage, and the crowds are made up as much of mercenaries looking for their fortunes as they are merchants looking to spend theirs. Dwarven moneychangers operate gadgets of intricate clockwork as they exchange one currency for another. Vast notice boards display the prices of goods in distant centers of trade, as well as how current the prices are; judging by how recent most of them are, they must have arrived by gyrocopter or some other, even more outlandish means.

It is into this swirling melee that you will throw yourself thrice over: once for Panoramia, once for yourself, and once for the Expedition.

---

If anything, Panoramia is more awestruck by the markets than you are; you have to guide her by the arm through the crowds as she gawks to keep her from being trampled underfoot by some vast cargo-beast you don't even have a name for. You steer her into the spice section of the markets, and then through it to a smaller, much less prestigious one: that dedicated to other, non-edible plants. Here is the realm of those with big dreams that are so often disappointed, and you find yourself surrounded by flagging merchants trying desperately to convince anyone that will listen that this or that is the food crop that will revolutionize farming in the Old World. It's all so many poor, wilting examples of greenery to you, but Panoramia comes to life, and you're shown an entirely new side to her as she tears through the hopeful merchants like a buzzsaw. Some plants are dismissed at a glance, others are closely examined before being moved past, and a very few cause her to actually speak to the merchants trying to sell them. You've brought your purse and you doubt that a few seeds will set you back too much, but even that proves unnecessary as she negotiates a deal: the plant in question is magically revitalized and the merchant can start trying to sell their plant with actual documented evidence from the Jade College as to the positive effects of it, all for a few seeds that wouldn't have sprouted without her intervention anyway.

The first plant chosen for further examination is a sort of grass from distant Ind. The merchant calls it koo-sha grass, and claims that the natives of that place use it in religious rituals to achieve enlightenment; more of interest to you and Panoramia is that they apparently also use it to treat dysentery and influenza, and failing that it's also a rather hardy plant and quite edible for livestock. A neat piece of spellcraft later, a thriving example of the plant is sprouting out of a barrel half-filled with dirt and Panoramia has a small handful of seeds tucked into one of her glass phials.

The second is from slightly closer to home; the cone of a type of Estalian pine that, according to Panoramia, produces a sap that can be distilled into a sort of oil good for treating wounds and discouraging parasites. The merchant had been advertising the cone for its use in predicting the weather, claiming it would open when it will be dry and close when it will rain, so accepted a few silver coins for it before moving onto the next customer, unaware that he'd just practically given away a curative for an entire army.

No further wonders are to be found, and while it's slightly disappointing to not have found any rare and exotic wonders and instead come away with grass and a type of pine tree, Panoramia is quite happy to have some new plants to work with, and says that she might be able to unlock further effects with a little help from magic. And even if she doesn't, she says, dysentery and infection are terrible enemies of armies on the march, and having the tools to fight them both are not to be sneezed at.

[Plants and Seeds in the Markets of Barak Varr: 66, 52, 31.]
[First plant: Rolling for Origin: Ind]
[Second plant: Rolling for Origin: Old World]

---

The next day you brave the crowds alone, looking for nothing in particular. There are shiny and pretty and aromatic wonders everywhere you look; more difficult to find is something useful, or at least something especially distracting. You succeed.

The first strange wonder you find is a merchant selling a clutch of five eggs, each the size of a man's head. He claims they have been brought from distant Lustria, and that they contain terrible, wondrous beasts that will serve whoever hatches them. You doubt this, but the eggs are larger than any you've laid eyes upon and you do find curiosity burning inside of you at the sight of them. Even if the eggs were dead, whatever strange creature lay within would be worth dissecting for novelty value alone.

The second is allegedly from the terrible Land of Chill, Naggaroth, homeland of the Dark Elves - a small pile of pitted scales that are allegedly from a Helldrake that attacked a tradeship bound for Barak Varr and was driven off only at great cost in blood and cannonfire, leaving behind death, destruction, and a few fractured scales that fell from its body. Looking at the scales, each the size of a dinner plate, you can feel the truth of what he says - this came from a terrible creature indeed, and are still attuned to the magical energies that allows such enormous creatures to exist. Though you don't currently have the skills to match these materials, these could one day be part of a powerful and terrible enchantment.

The third is from very close to home: the dented and tarnished crown of a Border Prince, along with a deed on ancient parchment bequeathing a section of land somewhere in the anarchic region to the holder. Accompanying that is a short note from Barak Varr acknowledging the legitimacy of the claim, and another note acknowledging the legitimacy of the acknowledged legitimacy. Standing next to the merchant is an incredibly surly dwarf who says, before you even ask, that the scroll is genuine; since he's wearing the livery of Barak Varr in full sight of the market's guards without being put to some very serious questions, you're inclined to believe him. From what little you know of the region, the kingdom in question is likely to be the incredibly small, utterly poor, claimed by a dozen other Princes and hosting a greenskin infestation for good measure; but then, Princess would be such a nice title to add to your growing list, and it might unlock certain geopolitical options for you...

[Searching for whatever you might find: [HIDDEN], 56, 47.]
[First item: Rolling for Origin: Lustria]
[Second item: Rolling for Origin: Naggaroth]
[Third item: Rolling for Origin: Old World]

---

On the third day, it is the part of the market filled with recruiters and mercenaries that calls to you; you find an unclaimed section next to a thoroughfare and add your voice to the din. By mid-morning, you've accomplished nothing, being utterly untrained in the art of 'yelling very loudly at crowds' and apparently there's more to it than just doing exactly that. You lurk in the crowds, watching which of the criers attract the attention of the passers-by, and attempt to emulate them, but to no success; there's just too much noise and not enough of you. You consider magically amplifying your voice, but you've never had the need to achieve fine volume control with the Sound spell and now's probably not a good time to trial-and-error it.

By mid-afternoon, you've had more than enough of trying, and you slink off in a huff.

[Recruitment attempt: Diplomacy, 14+10=24, 22+10=32]

---

You've had your fill of the sights, sounds and smells of the market. You make your way out of Barak Varr and round the bulk of the mountain it is built onto until it evens into a steady slope, and you climb it. An hour later, you've reached a point giving a breathtaking view of the Black Gulf, with Barak Varr far below you, where a single tent is raised. And you stop mid-tread as an unmistakable set of sounds reach your ears, and turn and walk away with your cheeks burning. You'd heard rumours of that sort of thing among the more... earthy Colleges, and you suppose you are an uninvited guest in the piece of land they've claimed as camp, but honestly, it's the middle of the day!

A half hour of admiring the view about five minutes walk down the mountain, you make your way back up and find Esbern and Seija working on a fire, which thankfully isn't a euphemism - they've carved a piece of wood into shavings and are banging a flint and tinder together to shower sparks upon it. They greet you as you approach and you very firmly put the events of a half hour ago out of your mind as you unsling your pack, letting your passenger hop out and stretch his legs.

The two of them coo over your puppy, and ask you his name; you've been calling it Wolf for sentimental reasons, and they accept that as perfectly suitable. They examine him carefully as they feed him scraps of dried meat, and guess his age at about three months. About the age where he'd start joining his parents' hunts; in two weeks or so, he'll enter a stage of rapid growth, gaining over a pound of weight every week until about seven months of age, at which point he should be about seventy pounds in weight. After that, he'll enter the period of slow growth and gain about half a pound of weight per week, until reaching his full size of up to a hundred pounds at a year old. He's likely to be ravenously hungry the entire time, so it's just as well the army will have plenty of meat on hand to feed the even larger predators of the Knightly Orders.

They seem more than happy to help you with the training of your familiar; they say that eventually the bond between the two of you will grow to the point where training isn't needed for him to know what you want, but that point could be months or even years away and in the meantime it's a sensible precaution. It's agreed that once the march resumes, they'll be joining you every night after dinner to help teach your familiar basic commands.

---

As the week draws to a close, news filters through the crowds of the agreement struck between the two Kings. After much consulting of ancient maps, the location of a subterranean highway linking Death Pass and Blood River was rediscovered. The Barak Varr navy would secure Blood River up to where it met this highway, and the Expedition would secure the Highway itself from whatever menace currently calls it home. In this way, supply lines would be established that would not be threatened by the greenskin occupation of Black Crag or the innumerable tribes of the Badlands, and all the Expedition had to do to remain in contact with the world is to keep a stretch of Death Pass secure. And, perhaps more importantly, the greenskin stronghold of Black Crag that dominates the mouth of Death Pass - which, incidentally, was once the dwarfhold of Karak Drazh - could be bypassed entirely. All the Expedition had to do was march along the southern bank of the Blood River under the protective guns of Barak Varr's riverine navy, bridge a couple of tributaries, and build a dock in the shadow of Thunder Mountain.

It is as this news spreads and the Expedition regathers that you feel the unmistakable feeling of Ulgu sobbing quietly to itself, and you turn to see Kragg the Grim approaching you. "Hand," he barks, and you hold yours out and he drops what looks like a rope of chainmail into it. He nods the satisfied nod of someone who is finally done with a distasteful task, and turns and leaves without another word to you.

You examine the item, and find it to be a belt made of chainmail links of blackened steel, with a large buckle etched with a simple mountain; extremely common in Dwarven fashion, but you recognize it as the mountain that Castle Drakenhof was once built upon. And on the reverse, etched deep into the steel and filled back in with what could only be pure gromril, are three runes, and you can feel the power radiating off them.

When you look up again, a harried and awed looking dwarf with a pure-white beard that brushes the ground is standing there. "He didn't wish to linger to explain," he says numbly. "But nor did he want his work unappreciated. But though he allowed me to watch the entire way through, I barely understood a fraction of it."

He points to the first rune. "This, as I understand it, is a variation on the Spelleater Rune. When a hostile spell is targeted against you, it will not only counter it but also burn - literally burn - the knowledge of it from the mind of the caster. It will be dormant for twelve hours after each use."

He points to the second. "This appears to be based on the Master Rune of Spite, but somehow combined with the Rune of Fortitude. It will grant you the strength to withstand wounds, while returning twofold any strike against whoever dealt it to you."

And the third, the largest and most intricate of the three. "This one incorporates elements of both the Rune of the Furnace and the Rune that Valaya gave to us that allowed us to weather the coming of Chaos. It will grant you such resistance to flame that you could wade through lava, and burn off any taint of chaos before it could even touch you."



He stares at it in awe. "Thank you. Had you not performed a task worthy of such a gift, I would not have been able to witness its creation." He takes a deep breath and tears his eyes from it, and stumbles off back into the depths of Barak Varr.

You remove the simple cloth belt that has kept your robes fastened, and replace it with the metal of this belt. You feel the power in it thrum as you fasten it, flooding your body with a power unlike that you're so familiar with; this is power that has been brought to heel, tamed by the dwarven runes; its only character now is that which it has been given. You cautiously reach into the flames of a nearby torch, feeling the warmth of it but no more no matter how close your fingers dance to it; you decide that your Seed can heal you if this goes terribly and grasp the flaming torch by the end you normally shouldn't. The flames sputter around your hand, but you still feel no more than a pleasant warmth, and your skin remains unharmed.

---

The course of the Expedition has shifted; instead of going south along the Old Silk Road, you will be travelling south-east along the bank of the Blood River, named for how red it runs every time a greenskin Waagh emerges from the Badlands to crash against the realms of men. That path will take the Expedition through the territory of the Ironclaw Orcs - made famous by the terrible and cunning warboss Gorbad Ironclaw some eight hundred years ago, whose Waaagh utterly destroyed the province of Solland, burned Nuln to the ground, and besieged Altdorf, during which a wyvern smashed its way into the Palace and ate the reigning Emperor. Today they are merely a local threat rather than an existential one, but one that has never been entirely stamped out. From the former dwarfhold of Iron Rock, an aptly-named mountain made almost entirely of iron, they are all but immune from the retribution of man or dwarf.



Choose as many as you wish from the below; the THREE with the most votes will be Mathilde's actions for the coming week. Any purchases you make will not take actions.

Contributing to the Campaign:
[ ] Forces have been sent ahead to bridge the first inconvenient tributary of the Blood River; join them and aid in standing guard against any that may try to stop you.
[ ] Ulthar's Rangers and Petrescu's marksmen are ranging far to ensure that any greenskin that claps eyes on the Expedition don't live to tell the tale. Assist them.
[ ] If any resistance does start to gather, they will be smashed apart by the very heavy cavalry of the Knightly Orders. Stand ready with them.
[ ] Have Ulthar handpick his best sharpshooters to be equipped with envenomed bolts.


Spend time with the Council of War:
[ ] Thane Skaroki Grimbrow
[ ] Master Engineer Durin Wutokri
[ ] Grand Master Sigwald Kriegersen
[ ] Grand Master Ruprecht Wulfhart
[ ] Marksman Codrin Petrescu
[ ] Marshal Titus Muggins


Other Preparations:
[ ] You've heard that greatswords and greataxes are near identical in the way they're used, and you happen to be surrounded by experts in the art of the axe. Learn how to use one.


Spend time with your Journeymanlings:

Esbern and Seija of the Amber Order
[ ] Test their skills in battle.
[ ] Help Esbern teach Seija to Dispel.

Maximilian de Gaynesford of the Gold Order
[ ] Ask him to reforge your sword into a superior one.
[ ] Introduce him to the dwarven smiths so he can try to convince them to teach him.
[ ] Ask the smiths to teach him as a favour to you (-2 favours)
[ ] Ask him to teach Johann to Dispel.

Johann of the Gold Order
[ ] Help him find a place with the dwarf artillery crews so that he can supplement their abilities in combat.
[ ] Keep tabs on his interactions with the dwarves, making sure he's not fishing for information that the dwarves want to keep for themselves.

---

Purchases from Barak Varr
You currently have 556 gold coins.

[ ] Purchase the strange Lustrian eggs (200 gc).
[ ] Do not purchase the strange Lustrian eggs.

[ ] Purchase the Helldrake scales (100 gc).
[ ] Do not purchase the Helldrake scales.

[ ] Purchase the title of a Border Princess (300 gc).
[ ] Do not purchase the title of a Border Princess.

 

[Boney]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[*] Ulthar's Rangers and Petrescu's marksmen are ranging far to ensure that any greenskin that claps eyes on the Expedition don't live to tell the tale. Assist them.
[*] Help Esbern teach Seija to Dispel.
[*] Ask him to teach Johann to Dispel.

[*] Purchase the Helldrake scales (100 gc).
[*] Purchase the strange Lustrian eggs (200 gc).
[*] Do not purchase the title of a Border Princess.

The more time you spend with the dwarves, the more sick you grow of humans. A dwarf mistrusts magic, but your deeds are enough that most will accept you regardless, especially among the Rangers. But a peasant - and the overwhelming majority of the forces under Petrescu are peasants - is filled with equal parts superstitious fear and religious disgust for magic and its wielders, and the deeds you've done seem only to inflame their suspicions. So you work with Ulthar and his men, slotting yourself into the roster and being assigned a section of the landscape to sweep.

This portion of the Border Princes is not quite the Badlands, but still noticeably more barren than the territory you've been marching through so far. The landscape is filled with wickedly thorned bushes that scratch in vain against the form of your shadowhorse, and apart from that sparse scrubs lend the only texture to jagged landscape. An army on the march here could be seen for miles from the column of dust it would kick up, so the area to be swept for greenskins is huge. You cloak yourself in concealing magics and ride with ease across what would otherwise be a punishing landscape, your horse caring not a jot for thorns and gullies that would torment a mortal beast.

Glamorous work, it isn't. You spend a couple of days doing nothing but spooking wild goats, and then on the third day you spot a single goblin trying to hunt those goats. You effortlessly ride down and decapitate the hapless greenskin, which livens things up for all of a minute, and you bring the head back to camp to add to the growing pile and get a series of approving nods. It doesn't seem to have any purpose, but the dwarves seem to derive a great satisfaction from a pile of greenskin heads and as long as you avoid being downwind of it you can see a certain charm to it.

And then it's back to patrolling an empty landscape for greenskins that just refuse to appear and distract you from the boredom of it all.

[Greenskin wanderings: 78]
[Ulthar's Rangers: 97]
[Mathilde's contribution: 33]

---

Journeymen teaching journeymen is the sort of thing that never ends well for anyone involved, but needs must, so you encourage Esbern to share his knowledge of it with Seija and oversee it to hopefully leap onto any mistakes in it. Esbern's teachings are quiet but confident, and it seems that the two of them are used to discussing Ghur. You don't spot any problems with his teaching of it, and by the third day Seija has begun trying to manifest the magic to puncture Esbern's spells. You leave the two of them to it, and move on to Maximilian. Which proves to be rather trickier.

"No," he says flatly without looking up at the book. "Not happening." You try to probe further, and all you get is an equally flat "he knows what he did."

Well.

[Esbern's teaching: 55]
[Your supervision: 51+20=71]
[Convincing Maximilian: Diplomacy, 4+10=14]

---

The Expedition camps at the far side of the first tributary, the 'temporary' bridge proving more solid than many permanent ones you've seen in the Empire. The Ironclaw Orcs, as far as you can tell, have yet to detect you; however, they can't fail to notice how many of their fellows have gone missing, since the piles of heads left in the Expedition's wake show that everyone but you has harvested bountiful crops of greenskin hunters and wanderers. There's another tributary ahead to be bridged, and then the river itself needs to be crossed; if all goes well the Expedition is two weeks from the lost riverport and the entrance to the Underway.


Choose as many as you wish from the below; the THREE with the most votes will be Mathilde's actions for the coming week. Any purchases you make will not take actions.

Contributing to the Campaign:
[ ] Forces have been sent ahead once more to bridge a second inconvenient tributary; join them and aid in standing guard against any that may try to stop you.
[ ] Ulthar's Rangers and Petrescu's marksmen are continuing to range far to ensure that any greenskin that claps eyes on the Expedition don't live to tell the tale. Assist them further.
[ ] If any resistance does start to gather, they will be smashed apart by the very heavy cavalry of the Knightly Orders. Stand ready with them.
[ ] Volunteer to ride ahead and scout this long-lost port.
[ ] Volunteer to perform a sweep further out so you can spot any substantial forces that might be marching in your direction.
[ ] Have Ulthar handpick his best sharpshooters to be equipped with envenomed bolts.


Spend time with the Council of War:
[ ] Thane Skaroki Grimbrow
[ ] Master Engineer Durin Wutokri
[ ] Grand Master Sigwald Kriegersen
[ ] Grand Master Ruprecht Wulfhart
[ ] Marksman Codrin Petrescu
[ ] Marshal Titus Muggins


Other Preparations:
[ ] You've heard that greatswords and greataxes are near identical in the way they're used, and you happen to be surrounded by experts in the art of the axe. Learn how to use one.


Spend time with your Journeymanlings:

Esbern and Seija of the Amber Order
[ ] Test their skills in battle.
[ ] Continue to supervise the dispelling lessons.
[ ] Work with them to see if your eggs can be encouraged to hatch.

Maximilian de Gaynesford of the Gold Order
[ ] Ask him to reforge your sword into a superior one.
[ ] Introduce him to the dwarven smiths so he can try to convince them to teach him.
[ ] Ask the smiths to teach him as a favour to you (-2 favours)

Johann of the Gold Order
[ ] Help him find a place with the dwarf artillery crews so that he can supplement their abilities in combat.
[ ] Keep tabs on his interactions with the dwarves, making sure he's not fishing for information that the dwarves want to keep for themselves.

- A short and uneventful turn; such is the will of the dice.

 

[Boney]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[*] Continue to supervise the dispelling lessons.
[*] Volunteer to ride ahead and scout this long-lost port.
[*] Work with them to see if your eggs can be encouraged to hatch.

What Esbern lacks in magical vocabulary, he makes up for in shared experience with Seija. You're able to correct a number of assumptions the two of them have made and give them the proper terminology for what they're talking about, but their grasp of the fundamentals is quite solid and they communicate it well. Another couple of days of spare moments snatched between meals, marching and sleep is sufficient to fill in the gaps in Seija's knowledge, and by the time you leave the two of them her Ghur is quite able to gnaw away at magical formations. Not the most riveting way to spend a couple of days, but you've a feeling that soon enough you'll need all the dispelling manpower - even if it is only journeymanpower - you can get your hands on.

[Dispel lessons: 48]
[Supervision: Learning, 39+20=59]

---

In the breaks taken from dispelling lessons, the two Amber Mages turn their attention to the eggs you bought in Barak Varr.

"Bird or reptile?" Esbern asks thoughtfully.

"Reptile. Lustrian, allegedly."

Esbern frowns. "Ah. Reptiles are something of an acquired taste."

Seija shakes her head. "Life is life, beasts are beasts." She picks one of them up and concentrates intently. "Some eggs hatch or die. Some eggs wait until conditions are appropriate. We shall see."

She stands transfixed by the egg until you're wondering if something's wrong, but Esbern looks unworried. "Life in an egg, if it has not grown beyond fertilization, is barely life at all," he explains. "Concentration can be required." You accept that with a shrug, and summon Wolf with a whistle to entertain you while you wait.

[Seija's communing with the egg: 81]

Finally, after over an hour, she stirs, suddenly thrusting the egg into Esbern's waiting hands with a shiver - a shiver of cold, rather than of horror, thankfully. "Too cold," she says. "Alive, but waiting for heat." She rubs her arms as she shifts from foot to foot. "Carnivore," she confirms. "Not apex. Not especially intelligent, but sharp senses."

The rest of the process of discovery is agonizingly slow, as the egg's temperature is changed while Seija communes with it, seeking to discover a preferred range. In the end, though, you have all the information you need to begin the growth of the eggs, though Seija says they've still barely begun growing so it will take some weeks.

---

When you volunteered to ride ahead, Belegar was sceptical until you told him your ability to make the 400-mile round trip in two to three days. Then he's all for it, and gives you the approximate location of the port and the relative location of the entrance to the Underways. With a copy of the map in hand, you leave Wolf with Esbern and Seija and set off along the north bank of the Blood River.

The first leg of the trip is simple - a force has already blazed the trail to have a bridge ready by the time the bulk of the Expedition arrives, and Ulthar and Petrescu's scouts are sweeping the area regularly. It's not until you reach the under-construction bridge, carefully cross the rickety wooden bridge that was built for tools and workers to cross to build the proper bridge, and go beyond those standing guard that you're truly ranging into enemy territory. Most maps would claim that this is still part of the Border Princes, but between the Ironclaw Orcs of the Iron Rock and the Night Goblins of Thunder Mountain, there's no Border Prince foolish enough to lay claim to the area.

[Venturing into the unknown: 4]
[Rolling for enemy...]
[Who spots who? 39 vs 21]

The land has been steadily rising and growing more and more treacherous as you ascend into the foothills of the World's Edge Mountains, the scant soil and hardy shrubs starting to give way to rock and no vegetation at all. There's a whiff of sulphur in the air, and the source is obvious: Thunder Mountain dominates the horizon, forever spewing smoke into the air.

It's because you were so captivated by the sight of the restless volcano that you caught sight of the creature before it of you; making its way along the hills between you and Thunder Mountain with footing as steady as your own shadowsteed, it resembles a centaur, but far too big even for those terrible creatures. Instead of a combination of a man and a horse, this seems to have the top half of an ogre and the bottom half of a dragon.

[Knowledge roll: Knowledge, Req 70, 61+20=81]

Someone with no knowledge of the creature is likely to stumble over its name by sheer accident, but you've read accounts of the Great War Against Chaos. Though most of your attention was reserved for the legalization of magic and the founding of the Colleges, you did read of the terrible chaos creatures that poured into the Empire as part of the horde of Asavar Kul. This is a Dragon Ogre - a member of an ancient race that, according to legend, gave themselves over to Chaos to avoid extinction, and now can die only in battle. They renew themselves atop mountain peaks during the most terrible of storms, and in doing so can live and grow indefinitely.

The habits of these creatures when they aren't despoiling the realms of man are little known. Does this creature live a solitary life, is he currently hunting for food? Given the massive axe he wields, it seems that if he's hunting, it's for goblin or orc rather than goat. Is he migrating from one mountain to another, seeking a higher peak to await the rejuvenating storms it relies upon? Or is it worse than that: is he a scout for a larger force of his horrible kin?

The creature moves swiftly, his taloned feet digging into sheer surfaces and propelling him up slopes that would give a goat pause. It won't be long until he's out of sight, and considering his speed and how jagged the terrain is, you don't like your chances of finding him again once lost. You must choose quickly how you'll react to this unexpected interloper.

[ ] If he's a scout, he cannot be allowed to live and alert some unknown number of his kin to the Expedition. Attack.
[ ] You don't know enough to make a decision one way or the other. Follow the creature and see if its actions shed light on its purpose.
[ ] Turn back and alert the Expedition to the creature, and the possibility of more.
[ ] Ignore the creature and press on. You've a port to scout.
[ ] Other (write in)

- His current course leads away from the path of the expedition, but there's no guarantee he'll stick to it.

 

[Boney]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[*] You don't know enough to make a decision one way or the other. Follow the creature and see if its actions shed light on its purpose.

As you watch the beast effortlessly lope across the landscape, you're torn by indecision. From a certain perspective, the appearance of a Dragon Ogre isn't really important. The Expedition already knew that the World's Edge Mountains were full of dangerous enemies, the exact variety of those enemies doesn't change anything. But while you're far from the only one capable of scouting, you may be the only one capable of remaining unseen while keeping up with the beast, and any information you uncover about the creature could be important.

Part of you also wonders whether you could beat it in a fight, but you're pretty sure the clincher would be the combined Rune of Spite and the Seed of Regrowth, and you're less than enthusiastic about weaponizing your own painful death.

Magic is a wonderful tool, but without the right spells it has its limits. There's a spell to make the caster outright invisible, but even if you knew it the duration on it is severely limited. The spells you know to make you harder to spot are of limited use, because you're a rider in the middle of an empty field and there's no amount of 'harder to spot' that would leave you anything less than plainly obvious. But you can make yourself harder to notice. The beast is likely on the lookout for wild game or greenskins, and as he's not looking for a human rider specifically, Take No Heed would make you hard to notice. He'll see you, but as long as you don't draw attention to yourself his eyes will glaze right past you as it does countless rocks and shrubs.

In theory, anyway. Psychological spells are tricky when nonhumans are involved, and it's possible he would still consider a human to be 'wild game'. You'll still do your best to keep terrain between you and him.

[Stealth vs spotting: 91+17+10=118 vs 31]

You trail it from a distance as it moves with frightening ease over the broken terrain, stopping at each rise to scan the horizon. It's predictable enough that you're always out of sight and never have to put your magic to the test. Then his speed redoubles after he scans the horizon after what seems like several hours of trailing him, and you look ahead to spot what he has spotted: a small band of orc archers, large even for their oversized kind and carrying enormous bows.

Spoiler: Combat Dice

6 Arrer Boy Big Uns
M  WS BS S  T  W  I  A  Ld
4  3  3  4  4  1  2  1  7
Bow, Hand Weapon

1 Dragon Ogre
M  WS BS S  T  W  I  A  Ld
7  4  2  5  4  4  2  3  8
5+ Scaly Skin, Fear
Hand Weapon

Turn 1:
Initiative tests: 1+5 vs 2+4, Greenskin spot Dragon Ogre at a distance. Greenskins go first.
Greenskins shoot!
BS3, Long Range, 5+ to hit: 1 4 3 3 2 6
S3 vs T4, 5+ to wound: 1

Dragon Ogre charges! Arrer Boy Big Uns stand and shoot!
BS3, Stand and Shoot, 5+ to hit: 2 1 4 6 2 1
S3 vs T4, 5+ to wound: 6
5+ armour save: 2
Dragon Ogre is down to 3 wounds!

Both have Initiative 2. Simultaneous attacks.
Dragon Ogre has Fear! Orcs roll Leadership: 1+1=2. Fear test passed.
Dragon Ogre attacks: WS 4 vs 3, 3+ to hit: 1 5 2 3
S5 vs T4, 3+ to wound: 6 6 - two orcs slain!
Orc attacks: WS 3 vs 4, 4+ to hit: 6 2 6 6 3 3
S4 vs T4, 4+ to wound: 6 2 4
5+ armour save: 5 6
Dragon Ogre makes a Stomp attack. Hits automatically, S5 vs T4, 3+ to wound: 2
2 wounds, +1 for charging, vs 0 wounds. Dragon Ogre wins the round.
Orcs take break test at Ld 4: 4+2=6. Orcs break and retreat!
Orcs roll (3+5) for retreat distance. Dragon Ogre rolls (1+4+4) for pursuit distance. Orcs are wiped out!

The orcs spot the charge of the Dragon Ogre in plenty of time to open fire on the massive target, and at this distance you can't see if any of the arrows struck home but it obviously wasn't enough to deter the beast. He smashes into the orcs with a thunderous crash that carries to you and lays about him with his axe, felling a pair of orcs in a moment. The rest of the orcs try to retreat but are chased down and felled one by one. The entire combat from charge to extermination took just a handful of heartbeats.

You watch as the Dragon Ogre gathers up the fallen orcs, slinging some over its shoulders and others over its reptilian rear half, and then when laden with its gruesome cargo it sets its sights on Thunder Mountain in the distance and sets off, now moving much slower. It will be much easier to tail now, but if it is heading for Thunder Mountain, at its current speed it won't reach it until after dusk.

You're also bothered by a thought: if the beast is heading to Thunder Mountain instead of merely using it as a landmark to navigate by, then either the volcano is no longer under control of the Night Goblins, they've made some accord with the beasts, or Night Goblins and Dragon Ogres are locked in war with each other. Either way, this would be important information for the Expedition.

[ ] Continue following it. It would be good to know where this creature calls home, and whether there are more of it.
[ ] It's moving away from the path the Expedition will take, that makes it no longer your problem. Get back on course and head for the port.

 

[Boney]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[*] It's moving away from the path the Expedition will take, that makes it no longer your problem. Get back on course and head for the port.

You're curious, and there's reason enough to justify sating that curiosity, but in the end you turn away from the corpse-laden Dragon Ogre. With it returning to the mountains, the path of the Expedition is clear and your responsibility is to return to your original mission. The remainder of the trip is uneventful. Two hours of riding gets you to the point where the tributary you're looking for splits off from the river, and being unburdened by armour and in good shape means it's relatively safe to ford across atop your Shadowsteed, and you dry out quickly in the sun.

The river has, over countless centuries, carved a valley between mountains as it makes its way from higher up in the mountains, and the vegetation missing from the near-badlands behind you gradually returns until trees stretch up the slopes on either side of the river. Goats and deer watch you cautiously as you pass, and that they don't run is a good sign; perhaps the greenskins never bother to cross the river, and thus have never infested this part of the mountains.

The port, when you reach it, is unmistakable; a dozen ancient stone jetties jut out into the river, so heavily worn by flowing water that their width furthest out is twice that where they join dry land, but you see no reason they wouldn't still serve. Recesses in the stone show where small cranes were once anchored, though it seems they are long gone; either taken by the dwarves when they abandoned this section of the mountains, looted by greenskins or other, fouler things in the time since, or merely lost to the elements. Enormous square holes in the ground nearby open into massive underground warehouses, and once would have been covered in wooden or metal trapdoors, but now stand open to the elements and as such are now utterly filled with stagnant water. Crowds of mosquitoes rise to meet you as you approach, and you wrap yourself in magical armour and smile as you imagine the little pests fracturing their probosces trying to get at you. You're distracted for a moment as you contemplate whether the Rune of Spite would activate for a mosquito bite, but though the question is a fascinating one it's not the one you came here to answer.

The entrance to the Underway, from what you were told, is going to be rather more difficult to find, and you have to take a few steps back and examine the shape of the land before you see the tiny hint of what was once a trail leading up the slope. It's a struggle to follow a road that hasn't been used since before the founding of the Empire, and several times you have to make judgement calls as to what was once a carved slope and what is merely natural stone, and you end up seriously questioning your judgement as you climb higher and higher, into the clouds that obscured the uppermost part of the mountain. You can't even enjoy the view any more. You climb higher still and the trees vanish, giving way to hardy grass growing on the white stone that reminds you of the hills of your own land. The temperature has noticeably fallen from the heat of the valley below. You're ready to write it off as a fruitless endeavour, but in an instant your doubts vanish as the path stops being hints of a long-lost path, instead sprouting ancient, tarnished steel handrails and a severely battered roof piled high with brilliant-white limestone rubble, clinging to the side of an increasingly steep slope. You urge your horse to a trot along the undercover path and at last you turn a corner on the now-shaded trail and catch sight of what can only be the entrance to the Underway.





The entrance is wide enough for twenty to march abreast, and slopes sharply downwards, quickly vanishing into darkness. Part of you wonders why the dwarves didn't just put the entrance level with the dock instead of having a path climbing to the opening and then the highway sloping all the way back down, but you're starting to get a feel for how dwarves think and this is exactly the sort of grandiose feat of engineering that they delight in.

Even with clouds obscuring the valley below, the view is amazing, but you didn't come here to admire the view. The dock is present and intact enough to be used, and the entrance to the Underway is right where the records said it would be. Good news, and worth knowing, but there are still unanswered questions. Does this underground highway still reach all the way to Death Pass? And, in the thousands of years it's been since a dwarf once walked its length, has it remained uninhabited? And after making camp up here for the night (with suitable precautions, of course), will you turn back or press further?

[ ] Dock, check. Underway entrance, check. Mission accomplished, let's rejoin the Expedition.
[ ] You didn't come all this way just to scout the entrance. Push deeper into the cave.

- With thanks to the Eisriesenwelt cave in Austria.