He keeps a lot of them, but the ones he doesn't like, or the ones he makes a better version of, usually go to Middenheim's armouries.
Is Max from Middenheim? I'm a little surprised they're the ones snapping up his rejects.
He keeps a lot of them, but the ones he doesn't like, or the ones he makes a better version of, usually go to Middenheim's armouries.
Why Middenheim specifically? Just because that's the closest human city from Laurelorn?He keeps a lot of them, but the ones he doesn't like, or the ones he makes a better version of, usually go to Middenheim's armouries.
Is Max from Middenheim? I'm a little surprised they're the ones snapping up his rejects.
Why Middenheim specifically? Just because that's the closest human city from Laurelorn?
So, that's a bit complicated. The idea of alchemy also being perfection of the self and not just nature is pretty old and we find it in Zosimos. But those works don't seem to have impacted the larger practice of alchemy as a whole, and really isn't the mainstream or cornerstone until way, way later. It's pretty modern. Post-enlightenment. There's shades of the concept, and perfection of nature by art was definitely a big thing, but it's not about perfection of the self for the most part.The funny thing is that he's more of a Gold Wizard now than he was before. The nickname for the Golds is the Alchemists, and it is a cornerstone of alchemy that the truest transformation is the one enacted upon the self: the Magnum Opus is a quest for enlightenment first and foremost. Johan is pursuing a transhuman ideal; Max is pursuing an ideal which is the pinnacle of human skill. These are both forms of self-perfection.
(I also think about Max a lot. One day I'll finish the fic I have about him.)
So what you're saying is that annoying you with a bunch of judgemental busybodies will improve one of our boys... You heard him gents, send in the Karens.Every time I mention being a writer to someone IRL and the first and only response someone has to that is interrogating how profitable it is and what I should be doing to make it more profitable, Max gets a little bit stronger.
That's why he's never objected to doing the scut work for Mathilde - because unlike Mathilde, whose job is her purpose, Max's day job is just what he does to be able to pursue his actual passion. He could become a professional blacksmith and pay the bills that way, but that would mean having to change a lot of why he wants to be doing it in the first place. Every time I mention being a writer to someone IRL and the first and only response someone has to that is interrogating how profitable it is and what I should be doing to make it more profitable, Max gets a little bit stronger.
Probably has large but well cared beard as well, due to hanging around dwarves so much.The funniest part for me with Max is that I always picture him as this weedy little scholar dude because he interfaces with the quest primarily through helping Mathilde write papers.
But actually the dude spends all the time he can spare pounding pieces of metal with a hammer, so like most blacksmiths he's probably got arms like tree trunks.
Don't worry, you're in good company, he pictured himself that way for a long while tooThe funniest part for me with Max is that I always picture him as this weedy little scholar dude because he interfaces with the quest primarily through helping Mathilde write papers.
But actually the dude spends all the time he can spare pounding pieces of metal with a hammer, so like most blacksmiths he's probably got arms like tree trunks.
Behold!" you say, pulling the sheet off the finished painting with a flourish. The other Wizards lean in to examine it.
"Why am I sleeveless?" Johann asks, looking at the lovingly detailed biceps on display. Well, not quite looking, but still seeing. You had the artist use a different metal as a base for each pigment.
You shrug. "Artistic license, I assume."
"Probably the same reason I was given so many muscles," Maximilian says, looking at his own representation.
You shake your head amusedly. "Max, you're a blacksmith. A blacksmith studying under a Dwarf. If anything, he understated it."
"Is that a Pistolier cuirass?" Hubert asks. "Why would I be wearing that?"
"Am I really that tall? And looming?" Gretel asks.
"At least he got the marks of rank correct," Adela notes. "Non-Wizards usually don't."
When put like that, this feels like another angle on the "history replete with Irreplaceable relics" thing in Warhammer you take issues with. In a way that lines up with the human wizards' mastery paradigm.He keeps a lot of them, but the ones he doesn't like, or the ones he makes a better version of, usually go to Middenheim's armouries.
I think there was that one time that a bolt he crafted went into a dawi armory.Thanks for explaining it. That makes sense. I am curious, though: what does he do with the finished works he makes? Put them in a box? Donate them to a knightly order or something? Keep them for future reference?
What's the magic word?@picklepikkl can you get me the Boneypost where he talks about how a solid karaz becomes a conceptual karak because the dwarfs are weakening it, because "conquering a mountain" is metaphorical and difficult to do while "conquering a dwarf hold" is something standardly done.
Oh, very much so. A mountain would basically be the most central and important concept in Dwarven philosophy and worldviews. Even Khazalid bends around mountains: under conventional grammar the word karaz should only be used for specific mountains, and the associated abstract concepts of strength, endurance, and age should be karak. But these are too important to be -ak, too real to be considered mere concepts, so they, too, are referred to with karaz. The only time a mountain is 'weakened' enough to be referred to as karak, merely the concept of endurance instead of actual physical embodiment of it, is when Dwarves live in it.
You're thinking too literally. If you consider an uninhabited mountain, how do you conquer it? Do you mine it down to rubble? Do you riddle it with tunnels until it's no longer physically sound? That would be the work of generations. But the second you dig a hall into it and call it home, it being conquered becomes something that needs to be constantly guarded against. It goes from being a riddle to something almost routine.