You hadn't been entirely decided, but hearing about Eike's development into what seems a lot like your younger self settles the matter. "I'll take her on,"
Boney had to condense all of the thread's arguments and desires into a singular line to represent why she would pick up Eike, which is understandably difficult. I doubt Boney would have implemented some of the reasoning into Mathilde's narrative. Could this have been more sentimental? Perhaps, but Mathilde is usually pretty guarded emotionally so even if she's attached to the concept of taking care of Eike like a mother bear I doubt she'd express it. One of my favorite expressions for why she would want to take on Eike is because Mathilde told Eike that she could be whatever she wanted and do whatever she wanted, and the best way to ensure that is to make sure that she's the one who encourages her to do this.
you say. "I move around a lot, but I've got Ulgu-only rooms that will allow her to continue her education in both Karak Eight Peaks and Tor Lithanel."
He nods. "Ah yes, your World's Edge Branch." He makes a few notes.
The classic Grey reaction of "yes I expected that
jots down a few notes". I wonder if the Ulgu-only rooms are a requirement for a training apprentice or just a "nice to have". Perhaps starting apprentices are generally locked to Altdorf for a lack of mono-wind environments, which would be a bummer. Thankfully for Eike she gets to follow her master into both Lothlorien and Khazad Dum. What a lucky gal.
"Very well, I'll have word sent to you when her graduation tests are scheduled, which will likely be in the winter. If you can make it yourself that does tend to make an impression on the Apprentice. At your rank it's generally assumed that the only one who is qualified to teach your understanding of Ulgu is you, but we do have a course that is tailored for Magisters taking on their first Apprentice if you feel like you would benefit from it."
Very diplomatic phrasing going on here. He leaves the option open for the lesson on teaching apprentices without placing any pressure or expectation on Mathilde, putting the onus on her to decide if she takes it or not. It's a very elegant way both in and out of universe to preserve player agency and Mathilde's agency.
Also, a master who chooses not to attend their Apprentice's graduation doesn't sound great. Maybe they're busy and that's understandable, but it would be a serious bummer. Well, not every student-teacher relationship is the same I guess.
You nod. "Is there some sort of ritual or ceremony for taking on an Apprentice?" You'd asked Regimand that about a month after he'd officially taken you on, and he'd told you that it had already been done. You never managed to get a straight answer out of him as to whether he meant that some part of your esoteric early lessons had incorporated that, or whether your presence hadn't been required for it.
That sounds frustrating. Maybe it was part of the whole "teaching Mathilde to think like a Grey" thing, forcing her mind to question the situation and leaving it in perpetual ambiguity, but it feels kind of mean to just say that without further elaboration after she explicitly asks if there's some sort of celebration. Although I suppose Mathilde said "Ritual or Ceremony", which has a different implication that party or celebration. It's less about making the person feel good and more about protocol and tradition.
I understand that Mathilde will have to be somewhat like this when she's teaching Eike, but I hope she's a bit less obtuse than Regimand. You can cause confusion without disappointing your student.
"If you believe your Apprentice would benefit from one, we have templates available of many themes and styles, and agreements with the Ambers and the local Cults to use their facilities for such. If you want to get really elaborate, just wave a bag of silver within earshot of the Breughel."
Of course that wouldn't have a yes-or-no answer. You thank the Dean for his time and the information.
Is he talking about sweat lodges and hallucinatory trips? That's the first thing to come to mind when he's talking about the Ambers. I suppose he's talking about all sorts of celebrations involving different cults and beliefs. I think it's funny that he's going "we have a binder full of options that you can peruse in case you want to randomise a powerpoint presentation last minute".
In terms of Breughel, I finally found out what he means. The Breughels are a real life family of dutch and flemish painters that were likely implemented in Warhammer. I found them in the form of the Vargr Breughel Memorial theatre that Detlef Sierck, one of the most famous playwrights of the entire Old World, runs. This establishment is patronised by Emperor Luitpold. Y
ou can find this in this page of the wiki.
Anatomy is a rather fraught science in the Empire, as the demand for legal corpses so that physicians and anatomists can learn their trade greatly outstrips supply, leading to a black market price of ten crowns or more for a fresh or well-preserved corpse. Rising to this opportunity are the criminal enterprises known as Resurrection Men, who at best consist of grave robbers and crooked embalmers and grave wardens, and at worst consist of those who turn to more direct methods to ensure a supply of fresh corpses. This would be reason enough to earn the attention of the Amethyst Order, but that this illicit industry provide necromancers with cover to acquire raw materials for their twisted art makes it one more front in their eternal war against those that misuse Shyish.
The Resurrection Men rang a bell, so I went looking and I found this in 2E Career Compendium page 64:
"If there are to be any advances in anatomy and modern medicine, physicians need corpses to study. But the process of acquiring cadavers is not a pleasant one for these highly educated gentlemen of science. So to whom do they turn? The Resurrection Men are one part grave robbers and one part criminal syndicate.
There is almost no way in the Empire today to legally acquire a corpse for medical study; a few condemned prisoners are turned over, but the demand for these is high and inevitably these corpses end up in the hands of only the well-connected. Anyone else must confine their researches purely to the theoretical or turn to the Resurrection Men.
Embalmers play a key role in this organisation, for it is they who know what corpses can be stolen with little fuss. They also prepare the corpses, ensuring that putrefaction does not spoil its value. Rarely are they the actual thieves – they leave that grisly task to the grave robbers. There is no doubt that there is real money to be made, as a properly prepared corpse sold to a rich physician is worth ten gold crowns at least. Of course, the Resurrection Men are despised as ghouls and vandals, but as long as there is money in dead flesh, you can be assured that this trade will continue."
Boney did an excellent job succintly describing and implementing them and including the Amethysts within this dynamic. This might also be one reason for why the Embalmers Guild rep in Roswita's lecture was being eyed up by the Morrites like they were going to kill him:
"More Manannites than usual," Roswita says distractedly as she observes the crowd. "Stormguard and Knights Mariner. Perhaps the Vampire Coast is stirring. I'm not seeing any of the Order of the Shroud, thankfully - they always end up in a brawl with the Fellowship of the Shroud. I hear the Guild of Embalmers managed to wrangle an invite again, even though their representative almost got staked last time..."
Being an Embalmer is pretty rough in this world of Morrites. These corpses aren't going to rob themselves.
Grim business, but one fortunate side-effect of this is that the Amethyst Order always has a few Wizards who circulate in those circles and as such require a working knowledge of anatomy to blend in. One such Wizard is Magister Margarete Schluchtbuck, a short-haired and pretty young woman as skilled with a scalpel or pistol as she is with the Wind of Death.
I don't know why, but my first thought upon reading this is that Mathilde doesn't often describe people as "pretty" or "handsome". I'm probably forgetting a few instances though. Still, I like this woman. She's very fun and colorful and I'd like to interact with her more, although that might not be too likely. Her name is certainly... something. I'm willing to bet I mess up her name several times in the future. Yes, me spelling her name Margarita earlier was intentional. Why does her name have a useless e at the end there.
For ease of use I'll just call her Marge and imagine her speaking in her namesake's voice.
She cheerfully receives your visit and guides you through the dusty hall of the Morrite cathedral that the Amethyst College is somehow within, and despite looking for it, you're unable to spot the point where one gives way to the other and are quite surprised when you reach the office marked with her nameplate.
I don't think we've ever been in the Amethyst College in DL right? Well, Boney didn't really spend the time to describe the atmosphere here, but I might later on. Mathilde mentions a key part of the building here, but if you don't know what you're looking for, you might miss it. Essentially, the Amethyst College does space shenanigans like many other Colleges do, and Mathilde here is trying to spot it.
There are two locations. The abandoned "Shell Building" and the actual Amethyst College. Both are in the same place, except they're distinctly different, and the Order decides which building you enter when you step through the door:
"The College looks as though it has been abandoned for years. The whole place is mantled in an eerie silence, and even those explorers brave enough to shout have found that their voices sounded muffled, and seemed to be swallowed up by the building. Small shrines to Morr, in his role as God of death, stand against many walls in most rooms, and this unnerves visitors more than anything else. The longer people stay within the College the greater their feeling of dread becomes, until finally they leave, usually at a run.
-----
Only initiates to the Amethyst Order can enter the College proper without aid, and they can bring guests with them. This takes no effort, although they can choose to enter the deserted version of their College if they wish. The College proper does not, at first glance, look much different from the shell accessible to most. The halls are dark, the draperies are black and purple, and there is a thin layer of dust across the floor. However, the centre of the corridors is kept free from dust and cobwebs by the passage of many feet.
The most important difference, of course, is that the Amethyst Magisters are present. It is still rare to meet them in the corridors and the doors to most rooms are closed, often locked. Deeper in the building, both up and down winding staircases, are the private cells of the Magisters. Located deep within the building are libraries, studies, and contemplation rooms. While the true College is quiet, it does not have the eerie silence of the enchanted shell College, and the small shrines to Morr, which still exist, are obviously tended, though the Magisters display no other signs of specific devotion to the God and nor do they openly worship him.
-----
The shell College is also occasionally used for clandestine meetings. The chances of being overheard by anyone apart from the Magisters are negligible, and the Magisters rarely care about such things. If a group made a habit of meeting there, however, the Magisters would take action to drive them out; they want the College to retain its frightening aura." Page 115 Realm of Sorcery 2E
This is an incredibly interesting application of pocket dimensions, if that is what is happening, because apparently the two spaces coexist within the same location but they are different. It's not the same as some other pocket dimensions, and even Mathilde can't see what's going on although she can feel the Dreaming Wood in Laurelorn. Teclis did some weird stuff with the Colleges.
"Let's see," she says, rummaging through shelves filled with preserved creatures and organs. "Ah, yes. I haven't had the privilege of having a Rattus sapiens upon my table, but in this case it was no obstacle to identifying the organ once I got one out of that goop. Do you recognize it?"
She's such a mad scientist. I love it. She's casually speaking of corpses of exotic creatures as if they're fantastical things that she would love to have cross her table. If she wants to investigate Skaven corpses, I'm sure she could go to Nuln for a firsthand look. Might be dangerous though.
In the clearer liquid you can make out enough to see that it's spongy-looking and vaguely triangular, but that doesn't really narrow things down for you. "Can't say I do."
Adrenal Glands I'm assuming. I don't suppose Mathilde would know it, since her anatomy knowledge is, from her own wording, specialised. If it's a vital organ, she'll recognise it because she needs to know how it'll hurt to lose it. Adrenal gland isn't vital as far as I know, although a liver shot can be devastating.
"Glandulae renibus incumbents, though significantly larger than what I usually see. We each have two of the very same organ within us, perched atop our kidneys like a jaunty hat, and it's actually the centre of something of a controversy within anatomist circles, over whether it should be properly labelled ad-renal or supra-renal.
Glands lying on the Kidney? Incredibly literal meaning. I love how she calls the glands a jaunty hat. Maybe I should describe adrenaline activating as "tipping the fedora" or something stupid like that. Anyways, some searching shows me that Adrenal and Suprarenal are both used for these glands, so I guess the argument in those circles is still ongoing. Classic.
Humoralists call them capsulae atrabiliarae, believing it to be an instrument for the creation or storage of black bile. The rest of us, being burdened with the obligation to actually investigate and test instead of being able to make it up as we go along, were a little more in the dark, and in truth few had given them too much attention.
When the organ was first mentioned I thought it was the Gallbladder, which does store bile (although I don't know if the bile is black). But knowing that it's the Adrenal Gland, yeah that's bullshit. Marge throwing shade is lovely.
One more weird wobbly bit in a body full of 'em. But if our downstairs neighbours are going to the trouble of collecting and preserving them in a warzone, it stands to reason that there must be some significance to them. So I rounded up some physiology students and pointed them towards the slaughterhouses, and before long they were able to reliably extract the fluid within.
I'll be honest, "weird wobbly bit" followed by "downstairs neighbours" created one hell of a mental image irregardless of the actual context.
Also, what does she mean by slaughterhouses. Were they extracting the fluids from animal bodies or are there human slaughterhouses. I don't think you want human in your meat. Maybe she's using a euphemism to refer to the cadaver storage facilities.
This does bring to mind a question. How long do the glands last in the body after death? I imagine the fluid loses potency after a while right? Does it have to be hours after death or longer than that to acquire the adrenaline? This isn't a topic I ever really thought about until now.
Unfortunately for you and me, but fortunately for the advancement of knowledge, one of them blabbed to the Physicians Guild, and now those buggers are running around giving it to everyone for everything. I can't get them to stop - might be there's not a power in the world that could get them to stop selling the latest nostrums - but I can bully them into telling me what they've found, and I have."
I would love to get bullied by you ma'am. Ahem. I mean to say, excellent job Marge.
As a side note, this got me to look up what the actual meaning of nostrum is. Boney keeps making me learn new words. I appreciate it. More engaging than school was at least.
She opens a draw and pulls out a notebook and flips through it until she finds what she's looking for, and continues on. "Drinking it does nothing but make the physician richer, as expected, but things get interesting when you're a bit more creative with it. Applied as a vapour has proven very effective as a tonic against croup and anhelitus, but when injected it causes the subject to feel anxious and jittery, of all things."
Other stuff I'm learning. What Croup and Anhelitus are, what a glucocorticoid is, and that adrenaline is part of it.
You consider that. "That sounds like a perfectly reasonable reaction to being stabbed by a physician, regardless of the substance involved."
"I tried it myself. The heart beats faster, the body sweats, the hands shake, fatigue is banished. Rather similar to the feeling one gets during a confrontation."
I actually laughed at this. Mathilde tries to play Daemon's Advocate to ensure that proper scrutiny is applied, and Marge drops the bombshell that she took it herself. Not standard testing parameters for a new drug, but things are different at this point. Who better to test the effects of the drug than someone who doesn't give a shit that they're injecting a fluids into themself.
"Might this be related to the phenomenon of 'Black Hunger' among the Skaven?"
"I suspect so, in which case replacing or supplementing an oversized version of the same gland would drive them to even higher heights and lower lows, which seems like just the sort of thing they'd be liable to dabble in. I don't know if there's any use to that facet of the discovery, but personally I'm delighted that their experiments have inadvertently advanced our grasp of anatomy and medicine. There's a pair of papers making their way through the Colleges, one from me and one from the Physicians Guild, and though they beat me to the punch I did badger them into giving us some credit."
As I've expressed earlier, this might be the secret behind the power and strength of the Skaven in short burst engagements and why Assassins are so deadly. Hormonal control and modification to enhance their physical abilities beyond the norm. Some serious sci-fi shit. Maybe they're pumping so much energy that their own body is consuming itself as fuel.
I don't think most humans could stand the idea of making bodily changes to themselves that require constant maintenance and a supply of fresh organs for use so they can continue fighting. Sounds insane.
You skim a copy of her paper, and nod. A pity that part of the credit had been poached, but before you entered this office you had no idea that there were results worth poaching, so there's a limit on how upset you can rightfully be. And this paper, competently-written and kicking apart a pet theory of the Humorists as it does, is something you're happy to have your name attached to. "Thank you for your work on this."
Mathilde's instinctive distaste of the Elementalists strikes again. At least on this point I agree with her. Four humors is a block for scientific advancement and the sooner it's disproven the better. There are still people where I live who believe bloodletting is a genuine medical procedure and it's baffling to me.
"No, thank you, Lady Magister. This has given me a significant amount of credit within the circles I work in, and that's going to do a lot of good for the causes of the Amethyst Order within them."
[A Novel Treatment for Croup and Anhelitus, 2488. Subject: Common, -1. Insight: Revolutionary, +2. Delivery: Dull, -1. Contributor, -3. Useful, +1. Total: +1 (minimum).]
[The Function of Glandulae Renibus Incumbents, 2488. Subject: Common, -1. Insight: Shattering, +3. Delivery: Competent, +0. Secondary Author, -2. Thorough, +1. Varied, +1. Popular, +1. Total: +3.]
Nice. Four points total, which isn't a lot, but we didn't spend an AP on it so what more can we ask for. Still pretty impressive for a roll of 2 on a D6. I assume the Vat was that big of a deal. One of the things I love about Boney is that he takes the scenarios into accounts and even low rolls aren't a huge bummer. It feels natural and makes sense, instead of something like "some intern busted the vat and everything got spoiled, we lost our research halfway through, this is all we got" or something like that.
It's been seven years since you last paid a visit to your fief. Part of you frets at this, but the reason this land was chosen for you is that it can take care of itself while you're taking care of the rest of the Empire. Besides, it's not like you've abandoned them entirely, as you left them with instructions to contact you via the EIC if anything was amiss and left the EIC instructions to keep you informed of any significant dangers in the area. As neither has done so, you're reasonable certain that there's nothing to worry about, though despite this you're still at least a little relieved when everything looks intact from the sky as your Gyrocarriage approaches. It's not the first time you've visited here by air and the locals are interested but unworried, save for a dog that stands between the Gyrocarriage and the crowd as it lands, barking at the strange, roaring metal beast that has intruded on its domain.
Cute dog. I hope Mathilde gave it the pets and treats it deserved for being such a good dog (assuming it's willing).
You learn that the headsman you knew is still given the respect due to a headsman, but over the years the unofficial authority has unofficially migrated to his son, Rolf, your Steward for these lands. You find him older, more confident, and now with a flock of his own and several children, one of whom is named Mathilde.
This is so sweet and nice. I love it. Truly impressive of Boney to make me proud of a character we've seen before, like, once. This feels like a natural progression of Rolf, and I love that one of his children is named Mathilde. I'd like to think that Mathilde is touched by this, but wouldn't show it. As I said before, this is like a complete reversal of the situation at Kelham, and I coudln't be happier.
He leaps straight to business, showing you a trio of rams kept in a fenced-in area of pasture just outside the keep. "Estalian mayor sheep, m'lady," Rolf says. "Imported from Averland, who imported them from Tilea, who stole them from Estalia. You did tell me that if I saw an opportunity to invest I should take it, and I had your EIC check the seller to make sure they were reputable." He pauses as if waiting for you to react, and continues on once he's sure you're not going to do so.
I suppose he was waiting in case she was displeased. He still doesn't know her very well, and while she gave him permission, nobles can be mercurial and cruel. I suppose part of him could have expected anger despite the permission she gave him.
Honestly, he's more knowledgable about what it's worth it to invest in for a village like this than Mathilde. Still, sheep like this have got to be expensive considering the whole train of where they came from.
"It has a reputation for very fine wool, but more important, they're smarter than the average sheep. Problem we're having up here is the ragwort, it springs up all over the place if other plants die off and leave room for it, like during drought or if you overgraze. So in bad times there's more ragwort than anything else, and it's poison if a beast eats enough of it, and sheep ain't got the sense to avoid it. The mayor sheep is smart enough not to eat too much of it, and almost as tough as the local breed, so we're breeding them in to the local flocks."
Sounds like an excellent investment.
You give a thoughtful nod, as though you're at all qualified to pass judgement on animal husbandry. "I see. That seems a sensible idea."
Mathilde seems to think so too, but it's not like she has any better idea than me.
She is well trained in looking like she understands things that she doesn't understand at all however.
"I'd also like to bring in some East Westerlander rams to try to improve milk production in our ewes. You said I could make improvements without asking, but problem with these is that they're a lowland sheep. I could let the mayor sheep out with the other flocks tomorrow and they'd be mostly fine, but lowland sheep don't do well up here, and it could take generations of crossbreeding them until we get something that does. Until then I'd need to bring in provender from Tarshof, that'd come to a shilling per head per month, more during the winter, so maybe as much as a crown per head per year. To maintain a breeding population until there's enough of the local blood in them to survive up here, without breeding out the extra milk..." He inhales through his teeth. "Could get as high as a hundred crowns, and no guarantee that it'd prove worth it in the end."
"I'll give it some thought. Any concerns in the area?"
East Westerland? Isn't that around the area of the Tumble Downs? According to the Winds of Chaos map it's a supposedly very hilly region all the way until it meets Laurelorn forest. I'm surprised that their sheep are lowlanders considering all the hills. Maybe the hills aren't good for grazing, there are practically no settlements there so it would make sense. It's also interesting that Rolf refers to Westerland as Westerland and not Wasteland. Maybe the education he received hasn't gotten the good ol' propaganda touch from Mareinburg's secession.
"Nothing out of the ordinary, m'lady. The Elector Countess' men have been coming through the towns checking taxes, but I've kept ours paid up proper. Widened what could be paid in kind, too, and there's more roadwardens around lately, so nobody's grumbling too much."
Those lessons on numbering have done him well. He pays taxes good and proper and even knows the secret of buttering up people's palms. He's great. Wonder what kind of taxes they pay in the fief. From the examples presented in Old World Armory I would guess either Poll Taxes and/or Fifteenth/Tenth taxes.
Come to think of it, what's the fief's name? I don't remember if they had a name.
He thinks for a moment. "Top Walter lost an eye to a hawk that tried to take one of his sheep and got tangled in the wool, but he sold the feathers for enough that he says he got the better of the deal. The Wagners, silly buggers, kept drinking from a stream from which they shouldn't've, almost lost their youngest before they saw sense.
Wonder what kind of stream it was. Is he talking "shouldn't've" in the supernatural sense, or in the natural sense, like drinking water that gives you cholera or something like that.
The Senns are feuding with the Ankenbauers again, but that keeps happening and it never goes beyond shouting and insulting each others' cheeses. Rumour has it they might be building a new road round here, but nobody can agree whether it'd be Tarshof to Pürgg, or Sonningwiese to Pürgg, or Sonningwiese to Ohlsdorf, or Tarshof to Biberhof. Was a time when a few'd be talking about joining the work to make some coin on the side, but digging up flint is closer to home and pays better." He scratches his chin. "Think that's about it, m'lady."
Typical village feuds. In case anyone's confused on all the names, check the map out from Collection of Important Information:
Soningwiese, Ohlsdorf, Biberhof, Tarshof and Purgg are all in Western Stirland around the Stirhugel. Reminder that our fief is closest to Sonningwiese and has a cobbelstone road leading to it. Stirland has huge potential for trade routes considering it has as much crossroads potential as Talabecland if not more (thanks to the Moot, Zhufbar and the new canal), so I'm happy it's being taken advantage of. I wouldn't be surprised if the EIC were somehow involved in this project.
Speaking of roads, Roswita should probably get on making that Leicheberg/Halstedt road that her father wanted to make decades ago. It's painful seeing such a clear road right in the center but there's nothing there because no one bothered. Such wasted potential.
Also, flint mining seems to be still profitable in the fief. Nice. I guess those frescos/whatever are popular.
You let the wave of bucolic mundanities wash over you with a faint smile. Worlds away from your concerns of Waystones and interprovincial rivalries, the people of this fief need worry about nothing more than the weather and the wildlife. You're not sure if you would have found the same sort of peace if you'd remained in this sort of life, or if you would have been driven mad with boredom, or if you would have ended up clawing your way into a position not unlike Rolf's out of sheer need to meddle in the world around you. And speaking of which, the decision is now yours whether to okay his ambitious plan for animal husbandry. Judging from the rattle in the chest that Rolf digs out of his vegetable garden, you've got more than enough funds to do so.
I don't think anyone here joined this quest for a Sheep herder quest. I'm sure Boney could make it fun, but it's not what I or the thread would want. And I imagine Mathilde by extension wouldn't be satisfied. Mathilde could have taken a tenure position as Loremaster of Karak Eight Peaks, but she decided to jump into the super ambitious Waystone Project. There is no way she would have settled down with the fief. But it is nice to see it thrive anyways. This was a pleasant action, even if I didn't support it, I enjoyed it.
I'll debate actions later. I spent way too long on this.