Oho Algard
Tonight I'm gonna show off
You know how I know?
Because it's Marktag
And Marktag night is the night that I usually show off
Wellentag night is my night to cook
Aubentag night, I go and visit the Eonir
But Marktag, I have eight, giant Morbs
It's when everything is just right
There's no best kind of bad news
You haven't had your after-work social Patriarch meeting, so you're not too tired
Oh boss, it's all on
You frown and mutter something suspicious my way, like
"Will I have to Daemoncheck you again? I'm meeting the Emperor in the morning."
I know what you're trying to say, boss
You're trying to say, "Oh, yeah
It's Morbing time
It's Morbing time"
It's Morbing
It's Morbing time
I know what you're tryna say
You're tryna say, "It's time for Morbing, it's Morbing time yeah"
It's Morbing
It's Morbing time
Oh, oh, oh, oh, yeah
Then we tell the Colleges
Grinning like thieves
That's all part of the headpats
I love headpats
A-chicka-chicka, a-chicka-chicka, a-chicka-chick, ow-ow-ow!
Then you sort out the paperwork
That isn't part of the headpat process, but it is still very important
Next thing you know, we're in Obsidian Hall
You're wearing that shaggy, old, grey robe you got from the College several years ago
Yeah, you know the one, boss
With the ink stain
Oww, ah
I unveil my Orbs very, very showily
Tripping, seriously, over a cat?
But now I'm smugging, down to my boots
And you know when I'm smug to my boots
What time it is
It's Morbing
It's Morbing time
You know when I'm smug to my boots
It's time for Morbing, that's why they call 'em Morbing boots, ooh
It's Morbing
It's Morbing time
Oh, hoo, hoo, oh, yeah, yeah, ah, yeah
Ah, makin' orbs
Makin' orbs for
Makin' orbs for eight
Makin' orbs for eight Colleges
When you're me, boss, you show off to eight Colleges
Because I'm so lucky
You whisper something suspicious, like
"Here, think fast"
I know what you're tryna say, boss
You're tryna say, "Ah shit, here we go again"
Then you tell me you want some more, well, uh
I'm not surprised
But I've lost focus
It's Morbing
It's Morbing time
Morbing hours are over, boss
It's Morbing
It's Morbing time
With thanks to Flight of the Conchords, Business Time
As soon as the word 'Portentiv' arises, any further discussion of what to name the Wind-sensitive Portativ becomes pointless. You finalize the schematics, get a series of quotes from organ-builders for how much they'd cost to build as both a limited run and in bulk, and tuck it all away for further attention once you have a solid plan for what to do with it.
It seems tragically common that many people don't understand how valuable the academic environment is until they leave it. Eike might be one such person, as upon her return to the premises of the Grey College, she begins to soak up magical knowledge at a rate far beyond what she showed the capacity of before. Perhaps she's grown in her understanding of Ulgu under your tutelage, perhaps she better understands the value of what she has the opportunity to learn now that she's been out in the wider world. In any case, she adds an eyebrow-raising five new spells to her repertoire in rapid succession.
As for her forays into enchantment, you've decided to allow her the freedom to learn whatever works best for her, and it seems that means that she's further exploring the possibilities in different types of magically-attuned materials. It makes perfect sense for her, both in that it's a very direct and effective application of her intuitive Magesight to enhance her enchanting, and as someone who can reasonably assume that their enchantment projects will be taking place in well-stocked laboratories. Perhaps not the most exotic way for her to develop her abilities, but your own first steps were very often shockingly prosaic, and if there's one thing you've learned from the Dwarves, it's the importance of having a solid foundation beneath your feet.
Eike has learned:
Petty Magic: Sounds
+1 Magic from learning all Petty Magics
Lesser Magic: Dispel, Magic Mapping, Silence, Skywalk
Silence Mastery: Neither Seen Nor Heard. Target is unable to deliberately draw attention to themselves.
+1 Learning
Enchantment: Able to enchant objects with Petty and Lesser Magic spells.
Advanced Materials (1/2)
---
There are, tragically and inevitably, gulfs to be found between academic theory and harsh reality. The ritual of Liminal Germination proves quite able to create a tributary that absorbs magical energies and seeks to pass them along, but their success rate in doing so leaves much to be desired. After the first wave of rollouts, you gather everyone together - Hatalath, Sarvoi, and Cadaeth of the Eonir, and Elrisse, Tochter, and Aksel of the Empire, to troubleshoot the matter.
"The cardinal directions may technically be present within some Dreaming Woods," Sarvoi is saying, "but many of the significances of them are often missing. So in places where the Dreaming Wood is... stronger? Thicker? Deeper? cardinality alone is not enough to form the usual tributary mechanisms."
"Now, I'm sure there's a dozen fine details where the comparison breaks down," you say, "but moving magical energies through a soul is the means by which we do magic in the first place, so surely we shouldn't be too far out into the realm of the unknown. What solutions do we have?"
"Moving magical energies through someone else's soul is a whole other field of study," Sarvoi points out, "and one that is often poorly looked upon." Elrisse gives him a very searching look.
"If you're in the forest, you can be of the forest. If you're of the forest, it's your soul," Tochter says. "At that point, as the Lady Magister pointed out, we should be in well-mapped territory."
"In an entirely natural forest with an unoccupied Dreaming Wood, perhaps," Hatalath says, "but it stands to reason, and perhaps should have been foreseen, that one that has its loyalties firmly established would not be so easily suborned."
You look to Cadaeth, who is biting her lip, to Aksel, who's rolling his eyes, to Tochter, who has the look of someone who's trying very hard to find a reason why what she's just been told isn't the stupidest thing she's heard all week. "I believe that to be the case on the larger scale," you say diplomatically, "but we're talking about strictly local transmission of energies that the oversoul would already be permeable to. The difference between being possessed and merely having a few parasites."
"I suppose that there might be some give to be found on the outskirts," Hatalath murmurs, his brow furrowing as he considers the matter.
"We've got the eggs, we've put them in the basket, but the basket isn't getting where they need to go. Is that a reasonable summary of where we're at?" You see winces, and you see bitten tongues to prevent nit-picking of where your crude metaphor doesn't exactly line up with magical minutiae, but you also see hesitant nods. "I imagine the most direct way to go about this would be through the aid of local forest spirits," you say, turning to Cadaeth.
"A spite-hive," she says after a moment's thought. "A cluster of Radiants would be quite capable of ferrying the magical energies through the Dreaming Wood, though they would skim a portion of the energies off as payment. It would also be very useful in general to dot your forests with pre-tamed Radiant hives."
"There may be serious consequences to the equilibrium and general nature of a forest from establishing very strongly rooted populations of spites throughout it," Tochter warns.
"There's also the matter of perspective," Elrisse says. "Those in the Empire that are aware that spites exist tend to not have a positive view of them."
"We'll investigate whether we can before we worry about whether we should," you decide. "What other possibilities are there?"
"Go directly through the trees," Sarvoi says. "Energies arcing from root to root, canopy to canopy. Daisy chained, aha."
"The soul of a tree lingers, and by the time it is faded, a new sapling will grow to fill the gap," Aksel says.
"Or it could reroute around the gap," Hatalath says. "Dropping a boulder on a stream only stops its flow for a few moments. The trick would be having it be a matter of push and pull, rather than just carving a static streambed."
"For that, we'd need to devise a way for the pull of the Vortex to be tapped into through a Waystone by a tributary," you say with a frown. "Using the Dreaming Wood might cut down the perceived distance, but that's still a tricky thing to be doing with something that we need to be simple."
"The tricky bit could be in the establishment of the tributary, rather than in the tributary itself," Aksel says. "It would be unable to re-establish itself if it's disrupted for long, but that would also mean that there's nothing all that useful in the tributary that someone could seek to steal or misuse."
"Okay, that seems like it has potential," you say. "What else?"
"Game trails," Aksel says simply.
"More an Amber than a Jade thing, but it seems viable," Tochter says after some thought. "It would depend on existing trails around Waystones, but it's a rare piece of forest where they can't be found just about everywhere if you go looking for them."
"And animal souls have more 'drag' to work with than plants," Sarvoi says.
"Wouldn't that have the same problem as roads, with travel going both ways?" you ask. "No, never mind, we're connecting a Tributary to a Waystone, there won't be a way for power to flow 'upriver' unless we go out of our way to incorporate some way for power to be drawn out of a Waystone. Alright, that seems like a good range of possibilities."
Cadaeth proves to be quite able to create a wonderful habitat for a hive of spites; what proves trickier is ensuring that it remains populated by Radiants, as such an attractive home quickly attracts the attention and, well, spite of other, more violent varieties of spite. Elrisse points out the obvious reputational issues with establishing hives of spirits whose formal collective noun is 'murder', as well as the fact that under some readings of the Empire's law and the Colleges' regulations, this would be considered Daemonology. Either problem might be surmountable on its own, but combined you decide to shelve the matter until you see how the other approaches go.
Aksel and Hatalath have been working on the game trail method of transmission, and in the places where suitable game trails can be found, it seems to work very well. There are natural limitations on this method based on it being subject to the presence and movements of wildlife, but it's no more so than the other possibilities, and there is the potential of using this as a starting point to adapt the ritual into something the Amber Order would be able to deploy.
Finally, Tochter and Sarvoi have been working on the transmission of energies through the souls of trees, and apparently it has been going well enough that they've spent a significant amount of their time arguing about the significance of the underground fungal networks that seem to bridge the gaps between the tree roots. The Jade Order apparently already uses something very similar to this to deliver fortifying magics to entire orchards at a time, and it just needs to be altered - simplified, really - to make it so that only raw magic flows along the roots, instead of entire spells. According to Tochter, there are very few Jade Wizards likely to put their hand up to be part of a Liminal Germination rollout that wouldn't already know this technique.
It takes little debate to agree that the daisy chain method is the clear winner, but significantly more arises from those that feel that 'daisy chain' is insufficiently grand for the task at hand. After much back and forth, the name Asteraceaetena is settled upon for this variation on the ritual.
As such, what could very easily have been something the Eonir did in their half of the province and could have been argued was an entirely Eonir innovation, became something impossible to describe as anything but a partnership between College Wizards and Eonir Mages, as Jade Wizards walk Mages five times their age through how not to treat each tree as an individual to be scrupulously catered to. The opportunity to work with the Eonir Mages as equals means that this is something the Jade Order becomes very interested in pursuing themselves, rather than something you need to organize through them, and so you simply hand the matter over to their custody and let them flood the province with every Jade Wizard that can shake free a month or two to explore Laurelorn and glean whatever insight they can.
East of the Salz, in what one might undiplomatically refer to as 'actual Nordland', building fresh tributaries might be the sort of thing the Elector Count or other local officials might be tempted to meddle in as Elven business. But east of the Salz, most of the forest belongs not to the Laurelorn, but to the Forest of Shadows, and that's a Dreaming Wood not to be lightly ventured into. For the purposes of this subproject the thin strip of the Forest of Shadows occupied by Nordland can be ignored, and the problem kicked down the road to be tackled as part of a theoretical larger Forest of Shadows campaign.
[Nordland Tributaries, using Liminal Germination (Asteraceaetena variant) by Jade Wizards and Eonir Mages. Estimated completion date: mid 2492.]
---
The transformation of the substance of the Aethyr into the Winds is a poorly understood process, but one thing that all accounts agree upon is that it is a turbulent process, with the Aethyric energy being subject to a harsh impact with the jagged edges of reality that are inevitably caused by the rifts that allow such energies into our world. However, if one is able to avoid the jagged edges to immerse the substance of the Aethyr into the depths of well-established and unfrayed reality, the transformation it undergoes is not into the energies with which we are so familiar, but to a gleaming liquid that has been given the name Aethyric Vitae. The main property of this liquid is that its ultimate transformation into Winds is frozen in time and waiting for some impact or contact with magical energies to unravel it, making it a reasonably safe and portable storage medium for large amounts of Winds. They also allow for easy access to Winds at the moment of their creation, Primordial Winds, which have interesting properties that can be put to at least one very interesting use...
As you're writing this, you try to strike a balance between stoking the interest of the two major parties who would be interested in the Vitae: the Dwarves, who would value it as a storage mechanism, and the Wizards, who would value it as a way to study primordial Winds. You think you've struck a suitable balance, but it's largely for the sake of academia that you're doing so. The Runesmiths are already very much on board, and you believe the Colleges will be scrabbling to get aboard as soon as you drop eight newly-minted Orbs of Sorcery in their collective laps. You start eyeing your schedule to see where room can be found for such a demonstration.
Not overly emphasized, but certainly not overlooked, is the way one might be able to source more of the materials. You can say with utter technical surety that it is not Daemon blood, but there are liquids involved not dissimilar to blood, and they are derived from life-forms not dissimilar to Daemons. You make sure that the text is loaded with enough theorizing that the blood of actual Daemons will not be able to gathered, reasoning that most such beings either naturally propagate, or maliciously seek to propagate, damage to reality that is incompatible with the existence or creation of Aethyric Vitae. Imagining the more straightforward problems with trying to bloodlet a Daemon are largely left as exercises for the reader, as it's far from your area of expertise.
[Aethyric Vitae, 2491. Pending.]
Thus concludes the work Mathilde performed these past months, but not every waking moment was filled with work. With whom did she spend her free time? The five with the most votes will be chosen, not counting those locked in.
[+] Social interaction initiated by someone else (locked in)
Laurelorn
[ ] Swordplay Test your novel swordfighting style against the swordsmen of Tor Lithanel.
[ ] Niedzwenka Ask Baba Niedzwenka how she feels about the new Tzar, and about the political landscape of Kislev in general.
[ ] Sarvoi Try to figure out if the Elves use the same Apparition-based spells that the Colleges do, and find out what the Elven perspective on that sort of thing is.
[ ] Lord Seilph, the Mystic (NEW) The Grey Lord, Lord Seilph, is currently erecting Waystones in Sylvania, and the suspected reason for one of the usually-reclusive Grey Lords to be so far from home is an interest in questionable magics. An interest that one could describe you as sharing. See if there's anything of interest to be found in a very cautious talk on the matter.
Karak Eight Peaks
[ ] Okri You've met Loremaster Okri of Karak Eight Peaks once before. Pay him a visit and see how his great ambitions for heavily-armed Ironbreakers delivered by Gyrocarriage are going.
[ ] Pan's Treehouse (NEW) Panoramia has previously been quite happy with her cottage, but when you're a Jade Wizard and you create a mind-bogglingly enormous tree, you can't not build a house in it. Witness how a Druid flexes.
Foreign Relations
[ ] Middenland See how the Ulricans are going with their new Eonir coreligionists.
[ ] Wissenland Though the Elector Count is his usual self, some of their actions recently have hinted at the hand of someone a great deal defter. Investigate who took the job of his Spymaster after you turned it down.
[ ] Druchii Diplomats Check in on these unexpected visitors to Tor Lithanel.
[ ] Reading on Nehekhara You recently acquired a great many Dwarven books on Nehekhara, including ones written in the direct aftermath of the Great Ritual by Dwarves who had known the Nehekharans when they still lived. It's unlikely your official duties will ever require you to delve too deeply into the topic, so the only way to indulge your curiosity is to dedicate some of your leisure time to the task.
Friends Abroad
Following Up
[ ] Amber College Check in on the salamanders.
[ ] Skull River Ambush Look into the investigation of the mining of the Skull River, and any consequences of it.
[ ] Kalashiniviks Investigate the fate of the Kalashiniviks, who were made a scapegoat for the death of the Tzar.
[ ] Orb Reveal (NEW-ish) The Orbs are made, the books are written, the time is right. You'll show them. You'll show them all.
[ ] Silk (NEW) At long, long, long last, Francesco has finally figured out how to weave the We-silk into something that can be worn. Be there for its debuts into the various markets it is destined to disrupt, and make sure that one of the first pieces off the loom - or whatever it is they use - will be your silk sheets.
[ ] Karak Vlag books (NEW) You have recently come into possession of a significant amount of books once owned by the magic users of the Fire Spire and heavily annotated by the Runesmiths Guild of Karak Vlag, two organizations that are now completely destroyed. The amount of lost lore they might contain makes your fingers itch. Set some time aside to read through these tragic remnants from an excised chapter in history.
- There will be a two day moratorium to give anyone celebrating the holidays time to do so without sacrificing their involvement in this thread.
- Merry Christmas to those that celebrate it. I got you Grey Lord social, and orb flex, and Pan fluff, and silk sheets.
- Credit for the Portentiv name goes here. There was a truly mind-boggling array of puns amassing until that was suggested and swept the vote.
It is late in the evening on the first of Rachexen, and the sun has already set. A silk-gloved hand works furiously to write correspondence by lanternlight, boxes of letters stacked neatly on the finely crafted oak desk of your office as they await their introduction to the Imperial postal system where they will be sorted by urgency into the care of carriages, couriers, pigeons, and pegasi. The day after Hexenstag is always a busy one, but the amount of work that remains to be done bodes ill for your free time in the year to come.
Ordinarily this would not be an issue of significant concern, but recent circumstances have forced you into a rather unusual and precarious position.
For you are Eike Hochschild, and you must wear two hats. One is pointy, grey and comfortable, while the second is insubstantial and shrouds the first. You are a Grey Wizard sworn to uphold the ideals and laws of Sigmar's Holy Empire, a magic user wielding the shadowy powers of Ulgu—and somebody whose very existence terrifies the nobility, as it is the remit of the Grey Guardians to wield the Sword of Judgement upon them should sufficient cause be given. You are the Governor of the Eastern Imperial Company—yes, that EIC, the economic juggernaut dominating Stirland and expanding rapidly in the southern and eastern trade routes of the Empire, particularly with the dwarfs of the Karaz Ankor and the elves of Laurelorn.
This is a troublesome state of affairs for many reasons, three of them paramount:
Firstly, because the EIC enjoys close ties with the newly ascendant Empress Roswita Van Hal of Stirland, who is eager to begin the great work of reshaping the Empire in her image. As part of the faction that brought her to power, you, of course, are expected to be just as enthusiastic in doing your part to carry out her will, whether that's expanding connections to Tor Lithanel, currying favor from dwarf kings, or crushing the Reikland cartels that have begun colluding with their Marienburger counterparts. It is within your best interests to complete these tasks with a deft hand—while it is difficult to refuse an Empress directly, it is much less difficult to oppose her indirectly, and the EIC serves as a convenient target for those opposed to her vision. Failure in this endeavor is not an option: You must Keep the Wagons Rolling, lest you disappoint the Empress. Objective revealed: Manage the expansion of the EIC. You do not want to disappoint the Empress.
Secondly, because Grey Wizards swear a Vow of Poverty, and are not permitted to accumulate property or wealth not of direct and practical use to their cause. Ostensibly, this vow acts as a safeguard against the easily abusable powers of cryptoclastic thaumaturgy—or so the Magisters of the Grey Order claim. In practice, the Order allows a great deal of wiggle room for the enterprising Grey to accumulate tidy sums, so long as they are suitably subtle about it and do not draw any attention that would disrupt that illusion. Unfortunately for you, directing the EIC is not a role well suited for subtlety, and so the side-eyes of the Grey Order are upon you with a clear message: Do not mess this up. Maintaining the facade will require toeing a very careful line, lest you serve as an example for the ire of Bursar Wilhelmine von Bucht. Objective revealed: Maintain the illusion of the Vow of Poverty. You do not want to anger the the Grey Order.
All of that would probably be manageable were it not for the third reason—that the real Eike Hochschild has elected to undertake a two-year-long research sabbatical in faraway Ulthuan and remains out of contact, having departed the week before Emperor Luitpold's death. For the Dämmerlichtreiter's former apprentice, managing the company, navigating the Grey Order's internal affairs, supporting the Empress, schmoozing with the Allies of Man, and all the rest would have been doable, expected even.
For the Perpetual Apprentice she hired to maintain appearances in a decidedly much less hectic political and economic landscape, well.
You, 'Eike Hochschild,' have big shoes to fill.
Good luck.
You'll need it. Objective revealed: Preserve your cover as Eike Hochschild.
YOU HAVE FIVE(5) SHINIES.
[HAT]: Before she departed for the White Tower, Eike Hochschild gave you a wizard's hat with the ability to project an illusion of her likeness. The Doppelganger enchantment lasts for six hours, and is recharged every day at dusk.
As a wizard with the 'Windherder' trait, Eike was able to cooperate with another enchanter(s) to provide your wizard's hat with additional effect(s). What manner of spell(s) was this? (Must not be Shadow Magic. Maximum of Two effects, not including Doppelganger)
[HAT][ ] Petty Magics: 0 SHINY per effect. (Counts as half of a spell)
[HAT][ ] Lesser Magics: 0 SHINY per effect.
[HAT][ ] Relatively Simple Magics: 1 SHINY per effect.
[HAT][ ] Moderately Complicated Magics: 2 SHINIES per effect.
[HAT][ ] Fiendishly Complex Magics: 3 SHINIES per effect. [ ] Battle Magics: 6 SHINIES per effect. You cannot afford this.
[MAGIC]: As a Perpetual Apprentice, magic is difficult, but not impossible, for you to learn of your own accord. By default, your magic score is 1.
Before the Decision Of Pan, many possible marriages for Mathilde were bandied about, with varying levels of seriousness.
We shall start with the crackiest first. Many apologies. It will happen again.
Mathilde Weber, Dragon Rider
"I am light. You are shadow."
It's easily read as an insult, childish in form.
It is the start of the greatest romance of the Eight Peaks, and it burns the Guild of Scribes and Spiders to this day that there is only one Dawi involved. (If you must argue the point, do it with a Scribe; they will at least give you a chance to retract your words. The We favor that the declaration and the resolution of a Grudge come in the same action.) Unconsummated, probably, nobody really wants to speculate except for a few particularly depraved writers out of Altdorf and Naggaroth, but romance nonetheless. Dawi, nonetheless, for it is only truly understood in the exacting precision of its native Khazalid.
An Umgi understands the difference between darkness and shadow, but in the "good enough" of their minds often does not distinguish between the two. An Elgi knows better, but in their love of metaphor and poetry and all things that frustrate a good Engineer's efforts will draw confusing and insulting parallels. The less said about the care taken in the languages of the Grobi and Thaggoraki the better. But a Dawi knows: Darkness can exist on its own, but shadows come only with the presence of light.
The brightest and sharpest lights, such as an elder dragon of frost whose soul is of Hysh, make for the deepest and most defined of shadows, which is of use to a Lady Magister of the Grey Order. Where the light walks, the darkness tries to flee into shadow lest it burn; but now the shadow waits with blade and its own sort of fires. One strikes those beyond the other's reach, one crushes with overwhelming power while the other cuts with infinite subtlety, one comes by sun and one by starlight.
Yet they are more than the sum of their strengths. Sung of by more than the Dwarves of Eight Peaks or its subsidiary Karaks cleared in the decades since. For they are more than the friend of Dawi and Umgi. One is, after all, a dragon. And what was the best way to help dragons?
One with a grudge against the Phoenix King knew. And while Finubar gnashes his teeth, more dragons and their riders soar above Caledor than in a thousand years. They thrive once more amid the energies passing to the Vortex. And they know the Phoenix King was not their benefactor.
The cooperation of Elves and Dwarves once wrought great things in stone and metal. The cooperation of Dragons and Dwarves shall do so in axe and fire.
We move from the most crack to the most prosaic of Mathilde marriages.
Mathilde Kiesinger, Baroness Blutdorf
The citizens of the Empire do not think of Stirland when it comes to a peaceful life. They do, sometimes, think of Wizards; the Jades, primarily, spending their lives in agrian toil, but occasionally the Golds, building away in a laboratory somewhat more sedately than the Gunnery School does. Certainly they blow up less often.
Blutdorf is peaceful for a Gray Wizard. She had to fight for it, of course.
The citizens of Stirland are still coming to terms with the fact that Blutdorf is powerful. Second only as a center of trade to Wurtbad, and ahead of it in industry. The citizens of the Empire are ignorant Blutdorf exists, except for the factory owners of Nuln, who curse the name of the Blutdorf Repeating Rifle. But they do it quietly. The last one to get ideas about solving the newest competitor for the market for smaller guns went to sleep one Sigmartag and woke up with the head of a vampire in their bed.
They really hope those rumors about some blasted thing called a mitrellause aren't true. It's bad enough without a competitor in field artillery.
It isn't all the Baroness. The Baron has a smile that could rival the sun, the ability to disarm a Blood Dragon in conversation, and is on first-name terms with Asarnil and Deathfang. He is undoubtedly the father of the Blutdorf Armaments factories, and the new Blutdorf School of Marksmanship, the small-scale in both size and size of gun version of the Nuln Gunnery School, that accompanies it.
The Baroness has made her contributions. Dwarven roads, still the finest in the world, lead from Blutdorf to anywhere worth going. Dwarven gates guard the walls and palace. Dwarven hands helped craft its factories. And while no Dwarf would be caught dead with a real weapon from Blutdorf, their foundries are more than good enough to produce many day to day implements, and to arm the many Umgi auxiliaries the Eight Peaks employ.
But still, if there is a rule to the peace of Blutdorf, it is very simple. Whether nominally law-abiding or criminal, day-walking or night-dwelling, chaotic or worryingly furry, all of Stirland knows, all of Sylvania has learned, and others are awakening to it: Don't make the Baroness of Blutdorf come over there.
And for the Baroness herself? Though she might do great violence in its defense, or when her Elector Countess calls (Elector Countesses do not beg, her husband gently reminds her), Blutdorf is an island of peace and stability in a world desperately short of both. She has two children, one who is delightfully mundane, and one who will have to go to the colleges, but not quite yet. No one doubts, given the open affection of herself and her husband can border on scandal, there will be more.
Sometimes she spreads that peace and stability a little further. Sometimes an uncautious wizard or noble is unwise enough, after such an event, to think aloud that Mathilde Kiesinger was destined for bigger things before her marriage.
She will ask them where they were when Castle Drak fell, or one of the many other vampires she's slain. Mathilde Kiesinger has won her wars and won her peace. And she was absolutely shocked to discover, after years of romance novels, that there isn't prose purple enough for the things she and her husband do.
While the offer to the post was made after the decision for Pan, I think it makes sense it still came in combination with the suggestion that got made once or twice we should have tried to seduce Rosawita.
Also I think this is what you call a "situationship".
MathildeWeber, Markgrafin of Eastern Stirland
Somehow everyone thought it would take more than this. That you couldn't solve Sylvania with fire and sword, even a sword crafted by Kragg the Grim and spoken of in the same tones as the Runefangs, even fires as hot as the Battle Wizards of the Bright Order.
But no, and of arms and the women sing the bards of the Empire. Where generations of men have faltered and failed, the Elector Countess and her Markgrafin do not. An uneasy team, some whisper, never seen together save when planning or executing a campaign. A winning team, others reply, measured in the unquiet dead laid to rest and the unliving flesh returned to stillness.
Besides, it's well known they share a tent in the field. Always have. And if some Sigmar-bothering nullity wants to complain about it, the people of Stirland and Sylvania will tell him (and it is always a him) to go stick his head in Hel Fen. Comfort has long been in short supply in these lands, and you should take it where you get it. With the brutal schedules and many battles they wage, even moreso.
The long war nears its end. Stirland will be freed. Sylvania will be pacified. Sigmar's Empire will be made whole once more, even if not exactly as in Sigmar's name as the Grand Theogonist might have hoped back when he sent a Witch Hunter. Some Elector Counts fret that the newly restored province will be a battle-hardened threat, new wealth found and freed up both, not as rich as the richest but suddenly richer than average. Some scoff, seeing in Rosawita van Hal neither the flexibility nor the skills to manage a province at peace.
The latter tend to be the ones who haven't met the Markgrafin. And the Emperor himself? He smiles when asked about the problem. This is the Empire, and there are always threats which need the attention of his armies. His newest Elector Countess and her chief subordinate have a fire in their bellies and a prayer upon their lips. Be damned that one might pray to Ranald. They'll make fine leaders for the armies of the Empire.
Sylvania will end. There are rumors of Waaaghs on the horizon, stirrings in the woods, and who knows? Perhaps if given the chance, they can solve another 'unsolvable' problem. Castle Drachenfels is older still than Castle Drak...
Mathilde "Misthammer" Angrund, Lady of the Silver DepthsNew
a man can write anything, as long as he should have been sleeping instead
Fair warning, but Belegar was absolutely my "haha-unless?" choice, which hinged on her relationship with the Ancestor Gods. Since Mathilde didn't hit 3/3, I didn't vote for Belegar.
Mathilde "Misthammer" Angrund, Lady of the Silver Depths
It is a day of grumbling in Karaz-a-Karak. Many a wag, both Imperial and Dwarven, would ask how that was different from any other day. The answer is in the volume of the grumblers and the import of the subject. Any Dawi can grumble, a vital skill learned in childhood for a race that takes slights so seriously. But it takes a real longbeard to manage a grumble at the top of their lungs. For the subject, the throne sits empty. Thorgrim Grudgebearer, High King of the Karaz Ankor, architect of the Age of Vengeance, has departed to the Glittering Realm. May his successor strike out the Grudge upon his killers quickly.
Grumbling is the oldest and most common tactic for the Dawi to release tension, and many are the tensions in this hall. Some are are obvious, and some are subtle. Some are spoken of by all, and some must never be spoken aloud.
A new High King means a new direction, a new mandate. Dwarven High Kings by their nature come in two types: those who outlive their mandate and those who fail to complete it. The Grudgebearer, Gazul guard his soul, may have been both. The Age of Vengeance spoke deep to the Dawi psyche to electrify them, promising as its name suggested. The wrath of the Dwarves will be their monument to the world, an eternal flame burned into their many enemies. And that was its dark side, as well: they live surrounded by fallen glory and empty Holds. Rather than withering and wasting away, the Dwarves will choose to burn. The Age of Vengeance spoke not just to revenge, it spoke to, and reinforced, despair.
Yet even in the midst of what should be a species-wide crusade that promises to use the last Dawi to bury the last axe in the heart of the last Grobi, life goes on. And if the thrill of living is gone, that won't stop it. Life is a stubborn thing, just like Dawi. Births, beardlings, fullbeards with the passage of the seasons. It would take a long time for a species to burn itself up, even if they really committed to it.
Eight Peaks is reclaimed.
The High King and Karaz-a-Karak are not there.
It is an understandable decision in the moment. What hope was there in it when it was proposed? With all the worst ponderousness of Dwarven deliberation, Karaz-a-Karak saw no hope in the expedition that was planned and was too slow to change. With all the best of Dwarven stubbornness and ingenuity, Belegar Ironhammer lead forth something entirely different, commanded something entirely different, and built a masterwork of Dawi craft such as has not been seen since the Golden Age in the Eye of Gazul, securing Eight Peaks as it has never been before. The Karaz Ankor was not consumed to fuel vengeance. The Karaz Ankor grew and achieved vengeance anyways. Perhaps if the High King and Karaz-A-Karak had been there, it would have been different. Another stepping-stone, another Grudge wiped clean in the inevitable march to Dwarven victory/extinction. But the the High King was not there, and while he had no choice but to open the gates of Karaz-a-Karak for the purpose of peace rather than war this one time, it is a mighty blow to his mandate. The High King was not there when Karak Vlag was saved either. The High King just barely managed to save face enough to claim participation in the Waystones, but they were not of his designs and everyone knew it.
Blow after blow has been struck at the stone base of the Age of Vengeance, and the fact that each cut was exquisitely kind to the Dawi did not make it less lethal to Thorgrim Grudgebearer's attempt to lead his race into an assisted suicide. Despair has been succeeded by hope. There's far too much fight in the rekindled heart of the Karaz Ankor for them to be taken awares, and if Death wishes to come for them it will have to find a way to catch them sleeping as it did in the Age of Woes.
And never forget, for all that it might have cost, the Dawi fought the Age of Woes to a bloody draw at worst.
The Kings and Queens of the Dawi, even if one is tall and mysteriously gray-haired, have gathered to choose the next High King. It will be difficult, for the obvious choice, the Ironhammer, is far too much a radical in his ways and in-
Every Dwarf beyond a certain age pauses here and mentally reminds themselves that by decree of the Priests and the blessings of the Ancestor Gods, Mathilde Angrund is not, in fact, an Umgi, and it would be worth a Slayer's Oath to say she was.
-choice of wife. Nor would he accept, for he has his own Kingdom to run and his devotion to it is legendary. Among the Umgi, the idea of moving the capital might have come up, but among Dawi, that will not happen. The High King will rule from Karaz-a-Karak. There are valid reasons for that even to Umgi minds.
The mandate of the next High King is already set in gromril, unchangeable even with the stubbornness of Dwarves. Sometimes leadership is getting out in front of the crowd and figuring out how to take it where it wants to go. Will it be the Age of Rebirth? The Age of Reclaiming? The only freedom of the next High King will be to put a name on the zeitgeist they inherited. The authors of that zeitgeist are Belegar and Mathilde, and so the High King will need their approval.
It has been a long and strange road for a member of the Gray College, one of those authors reflects. Dwarves are not one of nature's great romantics, but she has a knack for being the solace of troubled older men. And the jewelry is to die for.
I am still trying to decide what, exactly, would actually change if we substituted Johann for Pan. I am not sure anything would.
Anyways, the two I'm still sure I'm doing are both very different from our usual Mathilde, though also in very different ways. This one? Because Mathilde didn't go to Eight Peaks, she did not come to hate Sigmar, and most importantly she doesn't have the Hat.
Mathilde Van Hal, Elector Countess of Stirland
A long time coming.
Abelhelm Van Hal fell at the siege of Drakenhof, but while he hovered at death's door, the sound of cannon echoed. In the town of Drakenhof, and against Castle Drak itself. On the fourth day, as the keep of the castle crumbled and the damned legacy of both von Drak and von Carstein went with it, he opened his eyes. On the fifth day, he stood and heard the report of the things his Spymistress had done in his name. And Abelhelm Van Hal found them good. It would be a long time before he took to the field in person again, even with the healing of Sigmar's Grace. But that did not concern him overmuch. His Marshal was capable enough for the day to day, and he'd located a very good subordinate to act as his warlord.
When Sylvania exploded into violence between vampire factions, the first task was to keep Drakenhof secure. The throne vacated by the von Carsteins must remain empty. So he sent his best subordinate to see it done, and sent another subordinate to Altdorf to ensure she would not be interrupted. Mathilde Weber would not learn the truth for many a year. One day the letters from her mysterious masters simply stopped coming.
The "College of Necromancy" was an unpleasant surprise, but Stirland was more ready than it looked. It was a battle of systems, logistics pitted against each other more than tactics, but Wilhemina and Mathilde saw Abelheim through. And when Mathilde once again had to assume the task of assaulting a fortified town and keep, she handled it with the same vicious flair for the use of black powder. Of Teufelheim it is said that not a stone remained upon a stone, and even a master vampire finds it hard to cope with a dozen cannonballs. The loss of Gustav was a blow as his outriders swept up and down the gunline dealing with necromantic nuisances of various sizes. But Abelhelm van Hal had the general he wanted, and invited the Emperor's Spymaster to send him a new spymaster instead. The Dämmerlichtreiter would serve as Stirland's marshal. She may have accidentally blurted "I love you" rather than "I accept", according to her friends. Certainly the marriage and the ceremony confirming her new appointment came very close together.
The purgation of Sylvania was long and grinding. Every mound was searched and its dead laid to rest or burned in fires hot enough to incinerate bone. Every town and village investigated. Sylvanians are hard to convince on most Imperial gods, but a breakthrough of sorts sees temples raised to older ones as well and Morr has certainly found His faithful. It is common practice, as the artillery park of Stirland grows to meet the needs of its campaigns, to engrave the symbols of Sigmar and Morr upon every shot made in Wurtbad's foundries, and every cannon purchased from Nuln. No god has yet claimed dominion over black powder, but it might yet happen even if they don't mean it to. Stirland's neighbors are starting to get a bit nervous, and talk about reinforcing their fortifications maybe. That's an awful lot of cannon.
Sylvania fights back with the strength of the damned. For every vampire killed, another takes its place. But for every vampire killed, the next one is weaker, a few less corpses to command, a few less powers at its disposal, a few less gold coins to spend. Stirland may grind Sylvania slowly, but it grinds it fine. Five years pass. Ten. No town in Sylvania answers to an inhuman master. The monsters are banished to the wilds.
Mannfred von Carstein emerges from Hel Fenn.
Abelhelm Van Hal falls the second time.
His best friend, who carries a half-dozen pistols, very calmly and very carefully turns Mannfred's head to pulp with two shots.
Mannfred gets up.
Abelhelm's wife, enraged beyond words, melts the shape of an upraised Runefang's shadow into Mannfred's body, and hacks him to bits. The parts of his body will join their sire's under the Grand Cathedral.
It took one Van Hal to doom Sylvania. It took two Van Hals to redeem it.
Of Abelheim's three children, two turn up to the Elector's Meet to contest the right of inheritence. One of them fails to impress, intimidated into silence by the mere presence of the newly minted Lord Magister of the Gray Order. The other swiftly seeks accord; Mathilde will need an heir as well, and in all her campaigning, there was never enough time. After some consideration, the newest Elector Countess, and the first mage named to the post (because no one wanted to find out what she'd do with all those cannon and a fanatically loyal Army of Stirland at her back), accepts. Rosawita Van Hal has rough edges, but she can be taught.
Many in the Empire wonder what they will do when the Van Hals are convinced Sylvania has been secured. Averland lives in terror of the slights they have inflicted in the past. What would Mathilde Van Hal be, without a war? Where will she seek another? Some take heart in the fitful support Stirland offers to the reclaimation of the Eight Peaks, seeing it as the next likely theater. Perhaps it will be.
But others whisper of a greater ambition. Abhorash and W'Soran's followers trouble the Empire, but in lesser ways usually. It is the Lahmians who are forever and everywhere a problem. And it is the Lahmians this whispered ambition targets: To march on the Silver Pinnacle and see it scourged as thoroughly as Sylvania was. After all, nobody really knows what will happen if you kill the first vampire...
Unique Units of "Silver Peaks's Sentinels" in "Total War: Warhammer"New
Unique Units of "Silver Peaks's Sentinels" in "Total War: Warhammer"
Unique Lord Units:
- King Belegar Ironhammer
-- Legendary Lord
"I finally succeded in my honor-bound duty and reclaimed home of my ancestors. I vow now that pain of being Clan-in-exile is a struggle that Clan Angrund will never experience again"
- Thane of Clan Huzkul
-- only active when "Rally K8P Militia" Shadow Scheme is active, and during Defensive Siege of Karak-Eight-Peaks as Lord of reinforcing army.
"There was time when I was wandering among Empire as so-called 'Imperial Dawi', and I always felt that I was lacking something. That's why I joined expedition of King Belegar Ironhammer to reclaim Karak Eight Peaks. When it was successful and King created Clan Huzkul for those like me, that feeling of loneliness was finally gone."
Unique Hero Units:
- Dawongr Mathilde Webber
-- Legendary Hero
-- has access to Lore of Shadows
-- can be used for both "Martial" Shadow Schemes and "Magic" Shadow Schemes, and also for unique Schemes that can only be done by her
"Reclamation of Karak Eight Peaks by Clan Angrund and its allies was a severe hit against forces of Chaos & Destruction. I will be King Belegar's helpful shadow, that will ensure that any attempt of retalation by either Skaven or Greenskins will end with complete failure."
- Mathilde's Ducklings
-- group of Empire Wizards (each with access to different Lore of Magic)
-- can be used for solely "Magic" Shadow Schemes
-- can be only recruited via "Recall Duckling" Shadow Scheme (which can only be done by Dawongr Mathilde Webber)
- Undumgi Captain
-- Hybrid Infantry (Spear & Shield for close fighting and pistol as ranged weaponry)
-- can be used for "Martial" Shadow Schemes
-- can be recruited in "Proper War-Camp" building (in "Umdungi Camp" building chain)
"When King Belegar promised mass of gold for any mercenary that helped him reclaim his 'once-home', I was one of those that accepted his offer. I fought alongside Dwarfs, learned their culture and when reclamation of Karak Eight Peaks ended in success, I decided to stay. It's home of once-homeless Clan Angrund, it's home of once-clanless Clan Huzkul and I decided that it's also my home. I will fight in its defence as valiantly as Dawi themselves"
This is the question Nuln burghers have been asking eachother all month. After the city-breaking disaster of The Collapse, we feared that our rightful position as manufactorum to the Empire's armies was lost forever, along with far too many lives. But in our most desperate hour, our oldest and greatest allies appeared at our gates, and they helped us rebuild, nay, improve upon our foundries and smithies!
But at what cost? This dark mutter has passed many lips. After all, dwarven work is never free, but our city has been rebuilt and when asked of renumeration, all that was said was, "No cost, this makes us square with the Azrildrekked."
Who is the Azrildrekked? Your intrepid reporter investigates.
"Webber? A pleasant colleague indeed. I've read excerpts from her lectures on the waaagh but I much preferred her monograph on identifying and destroying vampiric magics." Lady Magister Elspeth von Draken.
"Oh, didn't she write about that elf with the dragon that runs around selling his sword? I swear I've heard that name before..." Millie Hartford, professional gossip.
"Is that what they are calling the Dammerlichter these days? She was the Hunter Count's [Abelhem von Hal, Sylvania, deceased- ed.] spymaster, did you know? Got her start taking down greedy merchants and running the Wurtbard watch. They say when they found him after his last charge, she was standing over it with the runefang buried up to her hips in busted skellies. Then she burned the necromancer at the stake, knocked down Castle Drakkenhof and got a dragon to burn all the vampires that tried to run! Ha! She couldn't let go of his death any more than we could... <Drunken sobbing>" A stirland army veteran, allegedly.
"You got a carmine dragon here? Ha! Down there they got a tower that burns gribbles 'gets caught in it's shadow to ash from the inside out! And a dragon! End of the reconquest- there were, I shit you not, a MILLION greenskins they were standing off with cannonfire. Then this tower fires and the sky goes black and when it comes back? Boom. Every greenskin you could see was just... Dust. Grey wizards and runelords, man, they do not f[Ed.] around." Brand Brandon, EIC caravan guard.
"She's not an umgi. [human- ed.] Not really. She's a dawi, [dwarf-ed] she's got to be, you know? Done too much for us for her not to be. There's a big proclamation from the mountain kings and everything." Rodrick Nolastname, Imperial Dwarf.
"I hear she's connected to those upstarts in Blutdorf! Best friends with their little baron, even celebrated 2 gifts day with him!"
"A ranaldian? I'd believe it of the baron, but her too?"
"Well you didn't hear it from me, dear." Overhead in a tearoom.
A confusing mess of rumor indeed! Some facts do emerge: Mathilde Webber, a/k/a the Dammerlichter, a/k/a Azrildrekked, a/k/a Lady Magister of the Grey, a/k/a Dame Webber. Born in Stirland. Raised by grey wizards from a young age. Appointed while a journeywoman to the surprisingly public position of Spymaster of Stirland. Knighted soon after for services rendered. Founding director of the East Imperial Company, which operates primarily in Stirland but it's seen as far south as Eightpeaks. Completed the initial conquest of Sylvania as war leader after the death of Count van Hal the elder. Headed south with the dwarves and helped reconquer Eightpeaks, hardly to be seen in the empire since, but is widely known in Altdorf as one of the Empress's closest companions.
Beyond this, only what is surely exaggerated rumor and tall tales. She is friends with multiple dragons? She builds magical superweapons as a hobby? She went into the chaos wastes to pull out ANOTHER lost dwarfhold in an iron landship a hundred paces long? None of these can yet be confirmed, and they are some of the tamer ones.
Nothing, nowhere, is there any connection to Nuln! No reason AT ALL for her to expend a literal fortune upon us! If anything she is a competitor to our factories through her connections to Blutdorf's firearm production. So why does this Hero of the Empire suddenly turn her eyes to us? Mere charity? Or is something deeper at play?
Follow us next time for more!
(Archivists note-Yarrik the Scribbler, writing in The Nuln Times pamphlets series. Commonly regarded as a prominent precursor of the modern newsprint industry.)
