Voted best in category in the Users' Choice awards.
Voting is open
Perhaps a little like the changed calculation Thorek's Runic Recharge Service allows for the deployment of Anvil Runes by the Karaz Ankor. Though the Orbs are less of a capstone than an auxiallary magical doodad, as you say the possibility of resupply might allow that to change over time, too.
Based on the wiki canon only gives a full view of how two colleges use their Orbs. The Lights use them in Luminarks of Hysh, which based on Total War Warhammer are one of the strongest artillery units around, and on an everyday basis use them to secure all the evil shit they have sealed away. The Celestials use them to predict catastrophes, and in their Celestial Hurricanums. I'm not familiar with the actual function of those, but they seem comparable to the Luminarks.

We don't know what the other 6 do with theirs, but I doubt it's just 'seal them in a box and ponder.'

At the least, being able to support mass deployment of Luminarks would turn any enemy bringing giant monsters to a war nothing but expensive cannon fodder.
 
Last edited:
If I remember correctly, shadowy fog constructs are a possible spell Mathilde could make, right? Maybe before we try to catch and bind Rider in Red we should try and make that spell? That way, Nazgul is less suspicious: it would just seem like an evolution of the "make constructs" spell. Also, such spell sounds pretty rad.
Personally, I think the best cover for the Nazguls would be to imply they're based on Shadowsteed somehow. Especially considering Mathilde does have a reputation in Stirland for that spell.

A "shadowy fog constructs" spell probably would help as well, assuming you're right about that being a possible spell for Mathilde, but I don't think I really want to develop a spell primarily for the sake of providing a cover story for our Apparitions?
 
Based on the wiki canon only gives a full view of how two colleges use their Orbs. The Lights use them in Luminarks of Hysh, which based on Total War Warhammer is one of the strongest artillery units around, and on an everyday basis use them to secure all the evil shit they have sealed away. The Celestials use them to predict catastrophes, and in their Celestial Hurricanums. I'm not familiar with the actual function of those, but it seems comparable to the Luminarks.

We don't know what the other 6 do with theirs, but I doubt it's just 'seal them in a box and ponder.'

At the least, being able to support mass deployment of Luminarks would turn any enemy bringing giant monsters to a war nothing but expensive cannon fodder.
I was also under the impression that there were passive benefits to the Orbs of Sorcery, since 8th Edition mentions them, but from what I remember of Boney's descriptions and clarifications in thread, it appears he's only having them be used for active deployment as War Machines. I don't know if DL maintains the passive benefits of Orbs when not used to fuel stuff like the Luminarks.

In terms of effect, the Celestial Hurricanum is essentially the mechanical opposite to the Luminark. Where the Luminark gives you an extra Dispel dice and has a Ward Save aura, the CH gives an extra Power Die and a To Hit boosting aura. Also, as opposed to the Luminark's beam, the CH has a Bound Spell in the form of the Storm of Shemtek, which creates a storm that deals AOE damage and has randomised additional effects.
 
And so human magic advances. Powerstones become more ubiquitous (espeially if it gets to the point that journeyman level mages can produce them), and so higher level magics become easier to use and more widespread. And so this in turn can be more easily studied and improved.

There's going to be a ceiling, due to the contrarian nature of the winds and the lack of automation combined with a small population, so skill will still be necessary, but even the most skilled climber will get higher if he can walk up a paved road before she has to start climbing.
It's heartening to think like that, overall. But unfortunately, our discovery is irreproducible by most conventional means. Unless someone bolder than us finds a way to safely go to the Poles or extract it from still-living daemons, we're essentially gonna have a monopoly on how to make them for the foreseeable future.

We don't know what the other 6 do with theirs, but I doubt it's just 'seal them in a box and ponder.'
I could see the Greys using theirs to hide something massive. What exactly we don't know, because it's that good. The Jades... I could see them having some sort of... I don't know, terraforming seed thingy, and they only rarely use it because it'd attract way too much attention. I don't know for the Ambers - maybe an undo-Beastmen-beam? The Amethysts, I could see placing in a box just in case they really, absolutely need it. The Brights either made something that was too hardcore and then sealed it away, or they secretly use it to passively power something in the Colleges. The Golds... I really don't know for them. Maybe they do have a giant robot.
 
This got me thinking of Johann and Gelt, and I can't say I think they'd get along. They're... very different people. Johann is pretty lighthearted, but I think Gelt's arrogance is definitely enough to irritate Johann severely. It doesn't help that he specialises and excels in all the things that Johann struggles with.

Just thinking about it, Gelt arrived in 2508 IC and became SP around 2519 IC, within 11 years, and he was already able to transmute objects into gold temporarily before arriving at the Colleges. Prodigies are definitely the type to inspire ire, and Gelt is not one of the humble ones.
I'm not sure how much it actually impacts your assessment, but WFRP 4e: Winds of Magic, page 72 does say that the lab accident he suffered warped his personality. He wouldn't be quite the same person we know of from the books and Total War.
His zeal made him effective both in the workshop and the lecture hall, where he was quite popular with the apprentices.
[...]
Then came what is simply referred to as 'the accident'.
[...]
His personality changed, too. Still a zealous researcher, perhaps even more so, Gelt was no longer the engaging colleague or inspiring teacher of before. Now he was coldly logical, devoid of emotion. His presence left others wondering if he saw them as just more subjects for experimentation. Even some of his fellow patriarchs found his gaze disquieting.
It seems like he used to be something of a cool dude before his laboratory exploded. Maybe he was another Gehenna.

Also, while I'm here, I'd like to comment on another thing from the page:
It is true that the senior magisters and then-matriarch, Magdalena Althaus, granted him status as a licenced magister without passing the usual tests — no one before or since has shown such skill with a single Wind of Magic without formal training, yet Gelt demonstrated an undisputable mastery of Chamon. His zeal made him effective both in the workshop and the lecture hall, where he was quite popular with the apprentices. Eventually his skill carried him past several more senior magisters to become the youngest Patriarch of the Gold Order since its founder, Cas Meijer.
Him picking up necromancy in End Times was complete nonsense. This guy's a once-in-several-generations prodigy of Chamon, and within the span of a few months, with his literacy inevitably impaired by chronic sleep deprivation and just by reading a book, he becomes better at necromancy than he ever was at gold magic. Really. One more sin atop the pile of them that is End Times, I suppose.
 
It's heartening to think like that, overall. But unfortunately, our discovery is irreproducible by most conventional means. Unless someone bolder than us finds a way to safely go to the Poles or extract it from still-living daemons, we're essentially gonna have a monopoly on how to make them for the foreseeable future.
Our discovery, yes. But we know the elves can already do, presumably without trapped daemon snakes, so there's other ways. And this solution has given some hints of what needs to be done. Also, the sheer fact that a human has done it at all will motivate a lot more serious research efforts. It will likely take years or even decades of research, and even longer to spread and become 'common' the way powerstones have.

But then, the same probably went for powerstones as well. It's just that those decades have passed, and now it seems obvious and straightforward.
 
It seems like he used to be something of a cool dude before his laboratory exploded. Maybe he was another Gehenna.

That actually sounds like an arcane mark. Perhaps he suffered a miscast of some kind. Becoming/appearing like a cold/emotionless person sounds up the alley of Chamon arcane marks
 
Another interesting thought occurs: At the current time, (magical) research is likely still a one-man effort. You might have the occasional cooperation, but you don't have modern research teams. Except, Mathilde does. Web-Mat is specifically for cooperation between practioners of different fields, and the Waystone project is based on that premise as well. And so is windherding.

So if the waystone project is successful, if webmat continues to produce great papers, if windherding becomes an established discipline? We could see a great shift in the scholarly culture of the colleges. Which would then propagate back to education for more emphasis on a common understanding so that cooperation is easier. I think the master-apprentice system is here to stay, because each wizard is a rare resource, and having personal tutoring optimizes both learning and creates personal bonds for loyalty and trust.

But it makes me wonder: Are common classes between all the colleges for the sevir spells possible? You need a monowind environment, because drawing other winds produces dhar. But what if you had something like the null room? Perhaps combined with the waaghsoak mushrooms so the apprentices have enough wind to cast, it seems plausible. Mind, it probably wouldn't be worth attempting until well established windherding makes it really useful, but it's an interesting idea.

As a sidenote, I imagine the imperial gunnery school at Nuln might be close to that transition as well. I think right now it's still Master Engineer with the ideas and maybe some apprentices for the busywork, but stuff like the steamtanks is complex and big enough that a single person can't really manage (unless you're di Miragliano).

@Boney Am I correct on the current research culture of the colleges, or are there already precedents for research teams?
 
So, I was going through Knights of the Grail to track down something. So I've mentioned before that Mousillon was an Elven city at one point, and that I think it used to be a nexus, much to Mathilde's dismay since she was hoping it wasn't the case. I think I've found an interesting pattern. For it to make sense, a map is needed. Winds of Chaos has me covered:
We have a decent idea of some focal points in Bretonnia's network. Couronne, L'Anguille, Gisoreux, Parravon, Quenelles, and Brionne. But there are more points of interest, particularly once you notice a pattern regarding certain locations in Western Bretonnia having... odd occurences.

First is the Dragon's Maw, close to L'Anguille, from page 46 of Knights of the Grail:
The Dragon's Maw is an area of the L'Anguille coast a day's travel from the border with Lyonesse. Dozens of sharp rocks rise from the water, and the tides and currents raise a constant spray from them, so that they look like teeth wreathed in smoke. This is also the area most often hit by storms, with at least one major storm striking every week. Sailors believe entering the area is certain death, but they have no superstitions: the natural features are quite dangerous enough.

However, traders have noticed that people travelling by land within a few miles of the area also disappear. Indeed, no one reliable has seen the area at all for over three years, and those who have gone to look have not come back. The Duke will do nothing, as it is on the coast, and the local lord is (now) a tenyear-old boy. He will offer almost anything to adventurers who can bring his father back.
This is the first, but not the only case of disappearances that is to be mentioned.

We then head further west to the Barley Motte in Lyonesse from Page 76 of Knights of the Grail 2E:
Barley Motte is in the north of Lyonesse, close to the border with L'Anguille. Two centuries ago it was the home of the D'ayvle lords, who cooperated with the Ruinous Powers and plotted to bring down the nation. They were defeated by a group of bold adventurers, one of whom was rewarded with the fief.

He was driven mad by the spirits of the D'ayvles, and another group of adventurers defeated the Undead. Once again, the Bretonnian knight among them was rewarded with the fief. A few years later, the knight was revealed to be trafficking with a Dark God, butchering his peasants to keep the fiend happy. The neighbouring lords drove him out, and the Garlonds put a steward in place. The steward betrayed his lords to their deaths a few years later but was himself killed in the ensuing battles.

This time, no one wanted the place, so it was abandoned. Over the following years bandits, Necromancers, and Chaos cults have all taken up residence there. They have been driven out, but anyone who takes possession of the place seems to fall to evil. Most people now believe it to be cursed.
This is the first of many curses that are going to be referenced.

After that, there's the city of Lyonesse itself, notable because of it being built close to a sunken city:
The ducal seat is on an island off the northwest coast of Lyonesse. The walls of the castle, built centuries ago, are washed by the sea at high tide, and small boats can sail right in to the outer courtyard. The inner courtyard is higher up and always completely dry, whilst the Great Keep stands on the very peak of the island, commanding a fine view of the bay. Duke Adlahard's feasts can be heard across the whole island.

When the tide falls, the top of the island can be seen to resemble a motte. What is more, a causeway leads down from the main gate, disappearing into the sea. Legend states Lyonesse was originally set on a hill in the middle of the finest city in the Old World, but the sins of the city's inhabitants drew the wrath of Mannan, and the whole area was sunk beneath the waves. Only the Duke's citadel was spared, because only the Duke had remained virtuous.

Some adventurers have worked out ways to explore the seabed and claim that there are ruins down there, but that they are protected by strange creatures. A few golden items have been brought back; not enough to make an expedition worthwhile, but enough to keep people trying.
Further south of Lyonesse is Mousillon, except we're defying expectations here and we're going to be mentioning a place that's not cursed, despite being in Mousillon. This is the Guerac Circle from Page 83:
Mousillon was not always a cursed land, though the blight does date back centuries. Guerac Circle is one of the few places remaining from before the horror. A stone circle sacred to Taal and Rhya, it stands in the hills of northern Mousillon, surrounded by an area of healthy vegetation and wholesome wildlife.

Maintaining this requires constant effort by the Priests of the nature Gods and their assistants. The Priests say the Gods provide for them, and certainly, the hunting in the area is very good. Nevertheless, the guardians are hard-pressed and readily welcome further aid.

The Circle is also renowned as the site of the Oak of Prophecy. This tree grows just outside the stone circle and bears acorns all year round. If you eat one of the acorns, you suffer terrible stomach cramps (treat as The Galloping Trots), but you also see a vision of the future. This vision is always easy to interpret in broad terms and reveals roughly what you must do to avert some disaster that would affect you personally. It doesn't give details. The guardians rely heavily on the Oak to warn them of attacks by the creatures of Mousillon.
Not gonna lie, it sounds like a Belthani holdout, inherited by the Cults of Taal and Rhya.

Then there's the city of Mousillon. Here I move to another source, but trust me when I say that there is almost a dozen mentions of "Elven Foundations" when it comes to Mousillon:

"The Castle Oisement is a small castle built on Elven foundations, which was shunned in spite of its beauty after its mistress was walled up inside as punishment for witchcraft. While some of Mousillon's keeps are formidable fortifications or beautiful fairytale castles, most are in poor repair, and a few are even completely abandoned, left for the beasts and weeds to consume." Page 12 Barony of the Damned

"Built on the site of a handsome Elven city and now fallen into ruin and lawlessness, the city of Mousillon is a battlescarred sinkhole of poverty, crime, and depravity." Page 12 BoD

"The Ducal Palace is the grandest and oldest building in Mousillon. Built around a single tower evidently of original Elven architecture, even the newer parts of the palace probably date from before Landuin." Page 17 BoD

"During the Affair of the False Grail, Maldred, aided by Malfleur's magic, imprisoned the Fay Enchantress. There are few places where the Fay could be held prisoner, but unfortunately for her, Maldred took her to the forbidding Donjon of Dol, a lonely, little-known tower that rises from the sea just off the north-western coast of Mousillon. The Donjon is a tower of sea-sprayed black granite, perhaps of ancient Elven design now eroded into a gnarled finger of rock pointing angrily at the sky." Page 23 BoD

As can be seen, Mousillon has plenty of Elven archeticture. It would also be easier to list the sort of things that aren't wrong with the place than what is.

Now we go south of Mousillon to another blessed location in Bordelaux. This time, blessed by Verena. Turris Vigilans from Page 60 of Knights of the Grail:
Turris Vigilans is a temple of Verena that stands on an isolated headland in the north of the dukedom. It serves as a lighthouse and has a reputation of one of the most reliable in the world. Its primary purpose, however, is to keep a watch on Mousillon. The priests of the temple are rumoured to use powerful magic, granted by their Goddess, to scry on the whole of the cursed dukedom. They refuse to say what they are looking for or what they will do if they find it. The priests are similarly insistent that they must not enter Mousillon personally.

Prophetesses of the Lady and the Fay Enchantress herself have been known to visit Turris Vigilans, but the purpose of the visits remains a secret. It is widely known that the priests offer advice to those who seek their counsel, and that the advice is very good. Anyone purchasing one of their many books gets an automatic hearing; others put their names into a lottery, which the clergy draws from every day. The priests sometimes offer unsolicited advice, as well, particularly advice that recommends that adventurers should venture into Mousillon.
It might not have anything to do with Waystones, but it might. It's a point of interest either way.

Anyways, now we're going to the southern edge of Bordelaux. The City of Bordelaux itself is mildly notable as it is greatly prosperous and in an excellent position, and the foundation of the city is described as "ancient". Still, what might be of more interest is the Silent Isle from page 59-60:
A couple of miles off the central coast of Bordeleaux there is an island. A century ago, it was the seat of a noble fief, and fishing and trading vessels departed from its harbour in large numbers.

And then, one day, there were none. Overnight, all of the boats and islanders vanished. What is more, it now seems to be impossible to make any noise on the island. A few groups of adventurers have investigated and fell into two groups. Some were spooked by the silence within a few hours and came back with little information. Others never returned.

Since nothing has come off the island to bother the Bordelens, most are content to leave it to the peace and quiet it seems to desire.[/SPOILER]
Another mysterious incident. A pattern starts to establish itself.
Now we move down to Aquitaine. Specifically Chateau D'Epee from Page 50:
This castle is the epitome of Aquitainian fortification and is located almost exactly in the centre of the dukedom. The current Lord D'Epee's great-grandfather was a highly successful adventuring knight, involved in many feuds. He used his wealth to build a nigh-impregnable castle with several moats, curtain walls that formed a maze of killing grounds, mighty gatehouses, and three great keeps, each of which could hold out against a siege for months.

The current Lord D'Epee lives in the outermost gatehouse, along with his whole household. No one has reached one of the great keeps and returned alive in ten years; it is fifteen years since anyone came back sane. That was the current Lord D'Epee, and he never speaks of what he saw.

He does, however, hire adventurers, asking them to bring him a particular stuffed stag's head from the closest keep. He offers a significant amount of money and the right to keep any other treasure that they find, as long as they bring the head. Several groups have gone in, but none have yet returned.
This sounds familiar. I'm sure you get the point I'm trying to make.

Then we go down to Brionne, specifically Castle Gransette on Page 63:
A few decades ago, Castle Gransette was the setting for a tragedy worthy of any song (and now, of course, the subject of several). The lady Isolde had accepted the knight Sir Gaseric as her lover, but her husband, Lord Gransette, was not willing to take the role of the superfluous husband. He confined Isolde in the highest tower of his castle and challenged Sir Gaseric to a duel. Sir Gaseric agreed, on the condition that the duel took place in the courtyard of Castle Gransette, under the eye of Isolde.

The songs all tell different stories of what happened in the duel because no one knows. At sunset, a horde of zombies descended on the village of Gransette and was only defeated by the intervention of a group of adventurers. The zombies were soon identified as the castle staff, but there was no sign of the lord, lady, or knight. The adventurers resolved to enter the castle and destroy the source of the evil. They did not come out and neither did any of the groups who went to investigate afterwards.

The village and castle are being administered by the Duke until someone can determine what happened. The castle is still in remarkably good repair, but the village is inhabited only by a handful of hardy souls who refused to leave their ancestral home, even if it was cursed and haunted. There are stories of hauntings and other strange events, but investigators who stayed outside the castle have found nothing, whilst those who entered never had the chance to say what they found.
Yet another haunting.

That's basically the end of the line, because you can then transition from Gransette to Brionne and that's supposed to be the end of the Bretonnian network.

Now, you might be saying that this is all a coincidence, because the creator of this book wanted some sort of conflict in practically every location in Bretonnia. Perhaps the author wanted to shove Bretonnia full of adventure hooks in every place so it's interesting and grim and whatever. This is very true, and I won't deny that the familiar pattern between all these incidents is likely a coincidence. It doesn't matter that if you track their locations you could make a rough line between some of them. I mean, clearly, they weren't thinking of "there's a metaphysical waystone corruption thing going on in the west coast of Bretonnia which is causing these conflicts". However, within the context of DL, this information COULD be interpreted that way, which is still interesting.

Either way, this is just food for thought.
 
@Boney I have spotted what must be one of the oldest typos in the thread:

The fate of Stirland is to forever to be the bulwark against which wave after wave of the undead crash against
The "against" appears in both possible positions - either would be correct, but both isn't.

EDIT: Oh, I spotted another of the same error, that is marginally earlier in the same post:
in what province have you come to power in?

EDIT2: Okay, there's more of these:
4. Zhufbar: Good relations with the capital of Dwarven engineering are only mildly hindered by having to either go either around or through Sylvania to reach you, and they have a keen interest in keeping Sylvania pacified.

Also one typo spotted of a slightly different form:
all of these will allow you a great deal of leeway in how you go about your business, and allowing you to pursue your own private goals.
Either "and allow" or "allowing" would work, but "and allowing" doesn't.
 
Last edited:
Another interesting thought occurs: At the current time, (magical) research is likely still a one-man effort. You might have the occasional cooperation, but you don't have modern research teams. Except, Mathilde does. Web-Mat is specifically for cooperation between practioners of different fields, and the Waystone project is based on that premise as well. And so is windherding.

So if the waystone project is successful, if webmat continues to produce great papers, if windherding becomes an established discipline? We could see a great shift in the scholarly culture of the colleges. Which would then propagate back to education for more emphasis on a common understanding so that cooperation is easier. I think the master-apprentice system is here to stay, because each wizard is a rare resource, and having personal tutoring optimizes both learning and creates personal bonds for loyalty and trust.

But it makes me wonder: Are common classes between all the colleges for the sevir spells possible? You need a monowind environment, because drawing other winds produces dhar. But what if you had something like the null room? Perhaps combined with the waaghsoak mushrooms so the apprentices have enough wind to cast, it seems plausible. Mind, it probably wouldn't be worth attempting until well established windherding makes it really useful, but it's an interesting idea.

As a sidenote, I imagine the imperial gunnery school at Nuln might be close to that transition as well. I think right now it's still Master Engineer with the ideas and maybe some apprentices for the busywork, but stuff like the steamtanks is complex and big enough that a single person can't really manage (unless you're di Miragliano).

@Boney Am I correct on the current research culture of the colleges, or are there already precedents for research teams?

What does 'modern research team' mean? Is it just multiple people working on one thing? Because if it is, then no, Mathilde is not the first. Solo research is the norm but that doesn't mean there's not a long history of collaborations and journal clubs and the like, going all the way back to Volans and von Tarnus.

And there's no getting around the fact that each College uses a different Wind. A common class would just mean it takes eight times as long to learn how to cast a spell, because seven eighths of what's being taught is inapplicable to you.
 
As rocks go, the one you've been taken to in central Middenland is far from the most impressive you've seen. It barely manages to stand taller than you, which is a low bar to clear in the first place, and you have to squint to see the faint remains of ancient carvings that have barely withstood millennia of wind and rain. You can find ones like it just about everyone on the continent if you bother to look, and the only reason this one stands out is that it in despite of a moderate amount of ambient magical energies that have soaked into everything else around you, the stone is completely empty of magical energies. Stone might have a high capacity for absorbing magical energy, but it still absorbs it, and any stone exposed to the elements for long would eventually accumulate as much earthbound energy as everything around it. But this one is, you expect, sending its magic to a nearby Waystone. "So," you say. "This is one of the Belthani tributaries."

"Yes, Lady Magister," Magister Tochter Grunfeld says. "As typical a specimen as I could find."

Cadaeth begins to examine the vegetation growing around it, and Baba Niedzwenka purses her lips as she looks the stone up and down. "Hm. Curious, but if I came across it I wouldn't stop to prod at it unless I was very bored."

"That's probably why they're still around," you observe. "They're just rocks. For mundane purposes they're not large enough to bother bringing tools to quarry them, and for magical purposes there's nothing to work with, and if for some reason you want magically neutral stone you can get as much as you need from any mine or quarry. There's not even anything to corrupt like there are with Waystones, the magical inflow is through the natural tendency of earthbound energies to seek equilibrium. If you broke the outflow somehow they'd just become normal rocks and eventually become no more filled with magical energy than any other rock."

"Can you observe the flow of energies?" Tochter asks curiously.

You shake your head. "Not this far north, it took me a week of meditation to spot a Waystone-sized leyline in Reikland. Maybe if there were any in, say, southern Tilea or Estalia the background magic might be low enough for me to be able to spot it..." You consider further, then shake your head. "No, then there'd be less magic flowing to spot. By the mechanics of the tributary, the amount flowing out will never be higher than the background magic level I'd be trying to spot it through."

"Perhaps you could spot the channel itself," Zlata says from somewhere behind you.

"The channel might not be a distinct piece of magic," Cadaeth says. "The Waystones are already absorbing magic, if you release magic into the earth deep enough the magic will be pulled towards it as it diffuses. It doesn't take long before there's basically a magical rivulet that carves out a magically conductive channel using nothing but the absorbed ambient energies."

"I take it that's how the Lornalim work?"

She only hesitates for a moment before answering. "Only once their roots grow deep enough, otherwise the magic just 'floats' back up to the soil." She places her palm against the dirt at the base of the tributary. "And the depth required is significantly deeper than this stone goes."

"Which way is the Waystone from here?"

"Remind me to organize a Wayshard for you." Cadaeth concentrates for a moment, then points.

"Roughly west," Tochter says after glancing at the sun.

"We can do better than roughly." You pull the compass you borrowed from the Gyrocarriage's cockpit from a pocket and consult it, then look in the direction Cadaeth indicated. "In fact, I'd say it's exactly west."

"Surely not exactly," Cadaeth says, standing and moving to look over your shoulder, then frowns as she looks at it. "Okay. Exactly. That would explain why they're able to maintain a flow from so much shallower. How, though? The Waystone is far enough away that it wouldn't be visible even if you levelled all the trees and hills in the way."

"The sun and the stars," Tochter says simply.

"To within a degree, though?" Cadaeth asks doubtfully.

"Yes," she replies firmly. "The Belthani placed great importance on the angle of the sun. I once saw some rubbings that..." She frowns as she thinks. "Actually, I might be able to do better than rubbings. Lady Magister, may I use the authority of the Project to lay claim to some carvings in Talabecland?"

"Whose authority do they currently fall under?" you ask warily.

"It's disputed. The Taalites and Rhyans claim it because some of the symbols are ones they adopted, and the Order of Life is disputing them but haven't wanted to do so too hard because some of the rituals depicted are potentially questionable."

"How questionable?"

"Human sacrifice and the summoning of what we believe to be Sevirric spirits."

"Ah. Not the sort of thing we generally like associated with the Colleges." She nods. "Do it. We're going to be casting so wide a net that this wouldn't seem out of place. Tell them that the Grey Order will vet the carvings. Then, as long as there's nothing in the carvings that's too improper, the Jades can have them once the Project is done."

"Thank you, Lady Magister."

You nod. "Okay, let's take rubbings and samples off this and head back to civilization."

---

Magister Tochter Grunfeld has been busy, as the next time you see her it's with the fragments of a shattered decades-old jurisdictional deadlock in her wake. As a result thirteen ancient stone steles known as the Talastein Carvings have been transferred to the custody of the Colleges and transported five hundred miles to Tor Lithanel. Nine of them are dedicated to either depictions or instructions for specific religious rituals, two of them to the kind of measurements of sun and stars Tochter spoke of, one to the history and creed of the Belthani, and one either a shrine or a lexicon, filled with larger individual runes rather than pictographic sentences. Under Tochter's nervous eye you scrutinize the two that the Jades didn't want to lay too strong a claim to, and while the carvings are faint and damaged in places, the depiction of a human stretched out upon an altar is hard to mistake for anything else. "I can see why this wouldn't be the sort of thing you'd want to lay too strong a claim to," you say neutrally.

Tochter nods. "Some accuse the Druids of sacrifice to justify their faith being replaced by the Taalties and Rhyans, either by saying they were no different to the Cult of Ahalt or outright accusing them of involvement with Daemonic powers. This could be used to play right into that sort of narrative."

You peer at the pictographs. "Well, to my eye this looks a lot closer to Eltharin than Dark Tongue. Weirdly close, actually. Too close. Tochter, talk to me about this language."

"That's something I wanted to bring up with you in private. Your mention of 'silver ships' got me thinking of these in the first place, because this stone here," she points to one of the other steles, "is of the history of the Belthani. And these runes here," she points to a specific pair of pictographs, "were translated as meaning 'silver ships'."

"Translated by?"

She smiles. "Teclis."

"Teclis translated this?" There was a time when you would have not questioned Teclis having knowledge of any language, but your time among the Dwarves and Eonir had introduced you to other perspectives on the Asur. "Why would an Elf of Ulthuan speak a language of the humans of the Old World? Even if they had bothered to learn the local languages when they were colonizing the Reik Basin, why would Teclis have gone to the trouble of learning one that by all accounts is entirely extinct?"

"I have a theory about that, one that ties in to old legends about the Belthani coming from the west, just as the Scythians came from the north, the Tylosians from the south, and the Imperial Tribes from the east. Teclis was only able to translate a few scraps of the symbols have survived, but of those..." She begins to point. "'Came from beyond', 'deep waters', 'silver ships', 'nurture Her land'. What if the Belthani 'came from beyond' the Great Ocean? What if Ulthuan could interpret scraps of this language because it's a cousin of Anoqeyån? Because the Belthani were students of the Old Ones, just as the Elves were?"

"Are you suggesting the Belthani came from Ulthuan?"

"And they were taken across the 'deep waters' on these 'silver ships' to 'nurture Her land'. Is that not what we did? When the Elves got too caught up in their wars, the Belthani completed the network."

You note and decide not to common on the 'we' slipping through. "The idea is intriguing," you say, "and if it's true, then it means it might be possible to translate these symbols further. Teclis might have been able to pick some low-hanging fruit, but he was operating purely from memory. We, on the other hand, have the Library of Mournings to draw from."

"Which means," she goes to one of the other rite steles, "that we might be able to translate this, the consecration ceremony, into something we can perform."

"That seems like it would be reliant on Teclis being completely correct that the Druids only ever communed with the Jade Wind. He had something of a blind spot for the existence of divine magic."

"Would it be so bad if we were able to reconnect the Jades to the Earth Mother?" Her tone is carefully neutral.

"No, it wouldn't, but that's not the only possibility. Just because we have Her in mind doesn't mean She's the only one that might answer if we go around knocking on doors."

"Ah. I see what you mean."

"We'll keep the possibility in mind, but we'll start from the start. We'll commission some menhirs of various materials and start planting them, if we can recreate the tributaries with just a theodolite then we should. Failing that, we'll try enchanting techniques to make it work, and then try to operate within the paradigm of Gods we know the current mailing address of. This seems like it could fit neatly within the paradigms of both Halétha and the Ancient Widow."

"Yes, Lady Magister."

"Meanwhile, I'll try to find a hard answer for you about those two potentially dodgy steles."



- I'll be away from my computer for the next day or so, so here's the current progress of the coming update. This isn't guaranteed to be the final form this section will take in the update - I haven't even run a spellcheck and am literally about to leave the house.
 
If Tochter wasn't already a favorite to win the turn's social vote, this would guarantee it.

Something something title drop.
 
Dawm you Boney for giving us more amazing options for research and study. Your writing continues to provide entertainment and makes me ask so many questions about a fictional setting.
 
Last edited:
You can find ones like it just about everyone on the continent if you bother to look
"everywhere".

Under Tochter's nervous eye you scrutinize the two that the Jades didn't want to lay too strong a claim to, and while the carvings are faint and damaged in places, the depiction of a human stretched out upon an altar is hard to mistake for anything else. "I can see why this wouldn't be the sort of thing you'd want to lay too strong a claim to," you say neutrally.
Not strictly an error, but these two lines being nigh identical makes the passage feel slightly repetitive.

You note and decide not to common on the 'we' slipping through.
"comment".
 
"I have a theory about that, one that ties in to old legends about the Belthani coming from the west, just as the Scythians came from the north, the Tylosians from the south, and the Imperial Tribes from the east. Teclis was only able to translate a few scraps of the symbols have survived, but of those..." She begins to point. "'Came from beyond', 'deep waters', 'silver ships', 'nurture Her land'. What if the Belthani 'came from beyond' the Great Ocean? What if Ulthuan could interpret scraps of this language because it's a cousin of Anoqeyån? Because the Belthani were students of the Old Ones, just as the Elves were?"

"Are you suggesting the Belthani came from Ulthuan?"

"And they were taken across the 'deep waters' on these 'silver ships' to 'nurture Her land'. Is that not what we did? When the Elves got too caught up in their wars, the Belthani completed the network."

You note and decide not to common on the 'we' slipping through. "The idea is intriguing," you say, "and if it's true, then it means it might be possible to translate these symbols further. Teclis might have been able to pick some low-hanging fruit, but he was operating purely from memory. We, on the other hand, have the Library of Mournings to draw from."
I think their is a major mistake here from incomplete information, that being the existence of Albion. The general theory is right on the face of it but the Belthani most likely learned from the old ones and came from Albion in truth which I think is an indication other missing information might be throwing this off as well. It also means if we are pursuing this line of research we may need to consider the discover of Albion as part of our goals with it.

Maybe we could discover it from mapping efforts outside the Empire? The Grey Lords don't seem keen to talk about it from what I can tell so we will need more to press them on if we want them to talk.
 
I'm a bit concerned with the stele depicting a person on an altar, it gives me the vibe that we sacrifice someone and have their soul manage the magic. I believe Nehekhara did the same sort of the stuff with a lot of their magic (human sacrifice and sticking souls into stuff for utility).

Somewhat related to that it might be interesting to grab an Amethyst wizard or Morrite cleric and get them to take a look and see if they see anything. It's probably (and hopefully) incorrect but it seems like a plausible method to me so it seems like it would be worth checking.
 
I'm a bit concerned with the stele depicting a person on an altar, it gives me the vibe that we sacrifice someone and have their soul manage the magic. I believe Nehekhara did the same sort of the stuff with a lot of their magic (human sacrifice and sticking souls into stuff for utility).
Instead of a sacrifice, it could be some kind of medical ritual. Something involving pregnancy, perhaps, given the deity is the Earth Mother.
 
Last edited:
Voting is open
Back
Top