Lionbirds. They make an impression. (Usually, a claw-shaped one.)
And, it seems, you were right to be concerned. Perhaps your reputation had reached even the greenskins, perhaps Mork had whispered in some ears to be on the look out, perhaps it was as simple as one magic-user recognizing another. Inside the Citadel an Ork thrust his head forward, uncaring of the pain as it hit the carved stone to either side of the arrowslit he had been peeking through, and a shockwave of green energy flew forth from the motion directly at you.
['Eadbutt: 36+20=56.]
[Counterspell: 8+20=28.]
Perhaps he was masked by the crackling energies of the Waaagh from the charge of a thousand Orcs, perhaps he was unusually cunning, perhaps you expected a longer wind-up time than a single headbutt. If you had nothing to rely on but your wits, you would have eaten a magical headbutt directly to the face. But the raw and wild magic was met by a rising wave of tamed Runic magic. The energies of the spell are shattered as a Rune on your belt glows red-hot and a similar fire burns inside the brain of the Orc that cast it.
Somewhere behind the lines, Kragg the Grimm's frown eases slightly, as he reflects on how
useful that ridiculous
Mhornokrul has proven to be... and that if trends continue, the belt he made will likely give many more Orc shamans a headache.
Kragg the Grim Frown Status :-{ -> :-[
[Codrin's archers: 92+15+5(Atoning)=112.]
[Ulthar's archers: 86+15=101.]
[Titus' archers: 70+15=85.]
[Greenskin morale: 76+15+10(Reinforced)=101.]
While the magical duel had been fought, the greenskin assault had been continuing. With mechanical efficiency, row after row of Orcish attackers had been cut down by brutally efficient volleys, and only an expert on fletching could tell you which volley had come from which archers, so alike in speed and accuracy were they. But the greenskins charged onwards undeterred, each row making it another few feet before being cut down to be followed by the next. Who but the terrible greenskins could ignore such losses and fight on?
[Greenskin attack: 59+15+10(Reinforced)=84.]
[Manling defence: 43+15+10(High Morale)+20(Silversteel Pikes receiving a charge)=88.]
Wow. Those rolls for the archers, and then morale! And then the pikes make all the difference against a charge.
[Great Shaman - 'Eadbutt?]
[Lesser Shamans - 'Ere We Go: 35+15-10(Detonated)=40.]
[Counterspell: 79+20=99.]
[Induce miscast: 100.]
Meanwhile in the Citadel, the greatest magic-user amongst them tied in vain to remember... something? His seared brain ached as again and again he reached for information he knew was there, but arcane fire had taken from him. His underlings were a little better off, and the two that survived tried to assist their fellows as best they can. The Waaagh energy that linked all greenskins solidified, and a tendril extended from the Citadel and was drawn towards the mob of fighting Orcs. You stare at it, feeling almost insulted. Surely this must be a trick. Not even greenskins would be so careless as to- but no, you can see clear as day that what you see in front of you is what there is. The shamans are trying to form an aethyric link between themselves and the Waaagh energy below them, and presumably once the link was formed they'd imbue it with magic and change its nature to one that would enhance the combat abilities of the Orc. It would be utterly trivial to reach out and sever the half-formed link, and you have to reach out and slap Maximilian's hand absently as he reaches to do so. With infuriating slowness, the link stretches forward... and just as it connects with the battlefield before you, you give it a poke.
Just a little one. Not enough to dispel or even disrupt the spell. All it does is pierce the aethyric membrane in exactly the right place so that instead of a single line through which the shamans can send energy, the link has become an enormous straw through which energy can travel. And the magically-created aethyric link of Waaagh energy was a thousand times easier for ambient Waaagh energy to travel through than the air between the fighting Orcs, and on the other side, amongst the shamans, the air permeated with Waaagh energy from the previous explosion was a thousand times more suited to Waaagh energies than the battlefield outside, with thousands of Dwarves and unfriendly mages and the disapproving gaze of Kragg.
In the space of a few seconds, every jot of Waaagh energy that had surrounded the fighting Orcs flew up the aethyric link and into the shamans' chamber.
In the space of a few seconds, the shamans were filled with the bloodlust of thousands of fighting Orcs, and their bodies barely contained the energy long enough for them to gouge fatal wounds in one another with bulging muscles.
In the space of a few seconds, every single Orc was robbed of the aura they had never known the absence of.
In the space of a few seconds, the battle is won.
Not a single man pauses to question his fortune as his adversary freezes in confusion and terror and the sudden disconnect from the Waaagh. Each cuts down the Orc in front of them, and then the next nearest, and then levels their pike and charges forward at those that had a moment ago been charging them, and barely a scrap of resistance is met before they disappear into the Citadel and out of sight.
Mathilde: "Wait for it - no, I've got it - wait... and now, boop! *switches spell from push to 'suck'*
Orcs: "Wut? Dis sucks!"
Kragg Frown Status: :-|
"Spoke to Kragg," King Belegar says, shaking you from your ponderings. "He said a whole lot about how only a greenskin could be stupid enough to allow the opening that they allowed you. But after that, he said that he had no choice to concede that you were clever to exploit it the way you did, rather than just batting the spell aside. Needless to say, that's the highest of praise anyone, man or Dawi, is likely to get from him."
Heh. I imagine Kragg is reflecting that he and Mathilde are now in the same boat* of having done something to help the Umgi, and them getting the credit for it.
*Or whatever the equivalent Dwarven expression is.
[X] Write a series of papers on the magical phenomena you witnessed. Or better yet, get your Journeymanlings to do the actual writing.
[X] There's a lot of prime real estate currently unclaimed. Stake out a prime position for a wizard's tower.
[X] You could help the Undumgi and the Ulricans establish themselves.
My preferred plan would be to be the Grey Eminence (pun intended) behind the Undumgi. I like the Tavern idea, and definitely want to delegate the actual running of things to someone trustworthy with high Stewardship. Maybe get some halfling cooks for the Tavern, and see if we can find a proper Ranaldite (hopefully oriented more towards the Gambler and Protector) to manage it. Meanwhile, get things set up to exploit the various Learning opportunities open to us... and definitely commission a proper Vault for Secret Wizard Stuff. This would also give us an opportunity to invest part of Drunk Mathilde's windfall into something beneficial for the Undumgi as a whole, to head off hard feelings.
I do rather like the idea of getting the lookout area/hoard room, or somewhere else that would get both sunrise and sunset. Because
Ulgu.
Also, a silly idea I had was that Mathilde needs to figure out a Doppleganger variant which makes her look like a smol dragon, just for those times she takes a nap on a pile of treasure. I imagine Skaroki would understand.
