Omegahugger
Inattentive Idiot
I will admit I kinda just assumed Anton came about because Anton Sr. really wanted a kid and afterwards found one in a flower.
Warhammer Fantasy: Divided Loyalties - an Advisor's Quest
- Thread starter Boney
- Start date
- Fantasy Users' Choice!
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- Tags
- warhammer warhammer fantasy fantasy be gay do crimes (gay) female protagonist pansexual protagonist ck2 quest divided loyalties mountain vietnam ranald is real this is a dwarf quest (dwarfs) this is maybe an elf quest this is not a vampire quest this is not an empire quest try it and find out open voting
Voted best in category in the Users' Choice awards.
- Location
- Stupid Lucky Time
Pictured: Dame Mathilde Weber counsels the Honourable Anton Kiesinger II on his marriage prospects and the possibility of offspring, circa next turn.
I don't believe that remark was made in ill-spirit, from what I saw of Veekie over the years. The phrasing could not be any more unfortunate, though.
SuperSonicSound
Shadowmancer of the Shadow Cabal
That's... not how warhammer works with magic. I doubt even the dark elves have spells for that.
- Location
- Brazil
Actually, both Settin Up Labs and Scouting count as job actions.
So we did five job actions this turn, counting Ambers.
Kornet
Quite possibly a sloth abomination
- Location
- Mother Russia
The Chaos, however, most definetely has.
With Chaos, everything is possible.
Codex
Fantasy Addict
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Our current job is dealing with the spiders. Any action directly relating to that counts. Any job not relating to that doesn't. I believe that's how Boney ruled it when asked.
Gods and Men
- Location
- Earth
Gods and Men
Before Mordheim, City of the Damned, multiple armies battled. Orcs slaughtered daemons, daemons fought men, and men fought orcs, as the Everchosen moved ever south.
"Is there no one worthy? Come you false Gods, come and meet you doom!" he proclaims, cutting down men by the score. The mists are thick, hiding the slaughter, but his horrid voice echoes across the battleground, driving terror into the bones of men. Yet after nearly an hour of battle, after the fields have been watered in the blood of men, the horns sound. They've held. Out of the fogs comes the might of the Empire, charging into the fray. Leading them a star that banishes the fog, golden hammer held high. The Emperor takes to the field and men's hearts sour.
The mad man just laughs. "Come, come you false prophet. Come and learn the truth!" His mount is long dead, but the slaughter goes on. His shouts guide the star to him. The Emperor arrives in a storm of steel and angry flesh, his Knights Griffon with him, but the Everchosen is ready to meet them. Out of the fogs come his Elite, called by the star. Their clash is thunderous, and surely, riding an Imperial Griffon the Emperor cannot fail? Yet again and again, an amulet of Chaos Undivided shines brightly as the Everchosen throws himself into the blows, his faith unbreakable, and the blows are turned away.
Ghal Maraz alone breaches those cursed wards, breaking a pauldron and pulverizing flesh beneath. Yet the price is high. Having thrown himself into the Griffon, the enemy is able to cut deeply. Flesh parts like paper and the noble steed screams, throwing the Emperor in its death throes. He lands roughly, but springs up readily, only to see his enemy smiling at him.
"Come on now. Let's have the proper fight. I'll show you the difference between us two, Emperor of Nothing!" The Enemy blurs forwards and the two clash among the mists. Yet near every blow is turned away, by armor or foul spell and Ghal Maraz is met with fourfold cursed blade, and matched. Blow after blow falls, as the corrupted giant beats the Emperor with shoulder, fist and knee, ignoring his counter strokes, defending only from his Blessed Warhammer.
Amidst the scruff, they lock weapons, the Everchosen smiling, eyes shining with bloodlust, faced with but a man. But a man that cannot, will not surrender. A man that will fight as long as there is fight in him. So focused are they, that the wisp of mist passes unseen until it is right between them. They break, and the foul blade slashes down, leaving blood upon the field. Yet in the moment before it falls there is an outraged scream beyond anything any mortal or mere demon can make. It thunders across the field, silencing all. A hammer of runic force raises itself upon the field, and for a moment out of the mists a giant dwarven hand holding a runic hammer is conjured, before it falls upon the foe. The Everchosen flies across the field, armor shorn and pitted.
Ghal Maraz raises as out of the mists stumbles a woman clad in grey, with a Witch Hunters hat. Her greatsword is shorn in two, and a deep wound burns in her side, yet her eyes are filled with triumph for in her hand is fire. An unending blaze burning away Dhar, and amidst it an eight-pointed star. There is merry laughter in the air, a gamblers mad luck paying out, a thief amidst giants. The sacred nature of the duel, weighted up against a God of lies and thieves. The Everchosen rises in an explosion of violence and outrage, and is met by a simple raised brow:
"You get to fight with all your gods. Seems hardly fair. All I did was level the field. You mostly punched yourself, really." is the irreverent taunt as the Magister's shadow ripples before her, becoming an ever smiling man. The Everchosen screams in outrage, racing to crush she who dares. The charge is met by a resurgent Emperor, and the foul wards are no more, their heart ripped out.
As the titans clash, the shadow is left amidst the roiling chaos of battle, as every Chaos Champion on the field heads for the thief. She licks dry lips, the fogs no bar to her sight. And like a proper thief stuck holding the bag, she flees, summoning a steed from mist and shadow. She takes with her many of their best warriors, on a merry chase around the city, the flames of the star a beacon among the mists. This isn't great for the enemy army. One could even argue she stole them from battle. She certainly does, fleeing for her life, while her God laughs at her predicament.
Before Mordheim, City of the Damned, multiple armies battled. Orcs slaughtered daemons, daemons fought men, and men fought orcs, as the Everchosen moved ever south.
"Is there no one worthy? Come you false Gods, come and meet you doom!" he proclaims, cutting down men by the score. The mists are thick, hiding the slaughter, but his horrid voice echoes across the battleground, driving terror into the bones of men. Yet after nearly an hour of battle, after the fields have been watered in the blood of men, the horns sound. They've held. Out of the fogs comes the might of the Empire, charging into the fray. Leading them a star that banishes the fog, golden hammer held high. The Emperor takes to the field and men's hearts sour.
The mad man just laughs. "Come, come you false prophet. Come and learn the truth!" His mount is long dead, but the slaughter goes on. His shouts guide the star to him. The Emperor arrives in a storm of steel and angry flesh, his Knights Griffon with him, but the Everchosen is ready to meet them. Out of the fogs come his Elite, called by the star. Their clash is thunderous, and surely, riding an Imperial Griffon the Emperor cannot fail? Yet again and again, an amulet of Chaos Undivided shines brightly as the Everchosen throws himself into the blows, his faith unbreakable, and the blows are turned away.
Ghal Maraz alone breaches those cursed wards, breaking a pauldron and pulverizing flesh beneath. Yet the price is high. Having thrown himself into the Griffon, the enemy is able to cut deeply. Flesh parts like paper and the noble steed screams, throwing the Emperor in its death throes. He lands roughly, but springs up readily, only to see his enemy smiling at him.
"Come on now. Let's have the proper fight. I'll show you the difference between us two, Emperor of Nothing!" The Enemy blurs forwards and the two clash among the mists. Yet near every blow is turned away, by armor or foul spell and Ghal Maraz is met with fourfold cursed blade, and matched. Blow after blow falls, as the corrupted giant beats the Emperor with shoulder, fist and knee, ignoring his counter strokes, defending only from his Blessed Warhammer.
Amidst the scruff, they lock weapons, the Everchosen smiling, eyes shining with bloodlust, faced with but a man. But a man that cannot, will not surrender. A man that will fight as long as there is fight in him. So focused are they, that the wisp of mist passes unseen until it is right between them. They break, and the foul blade slashes down, leaving blood upon the field. Yet in the moment before it falls there is an outraged scream beyond anything any mortal or mere demon can make. It thunders across the field, silencing all. A hammer of runic force raises itself upon the field, and for a moment out of the mists a giant dwarven hand holding a runic hammer is conjured, before it falls upon the foe. The Everchosen flies across the field, armor shorn and pitted.
Ghal Maraz raises as out of the mists stumbles a woman clad in grey, with a Witch Hunters hat. Her greatsword is shorn in two, and a deep wound burns in her side, yet her eyes are filled with triumph for in her hand is fire. An unending blaze burning away Dhar, and amidst it an eight-pointed star. There is merry laughter in the air, a gamblers mad luck paying out, a thief amidst giants. The sacred nature of the duel, weighted up against a God of lies and thieves. The Everchosen rises in an explosion of violence and outrage, and is met by a simple raised brow:
"You get to fight with all your gods. Seems hardly fair. All I did was level the field. You mostly punched yourself, really." is the irreverent taunt as the Magister's shadow ripples before her, becoming an ever smiling man. The Everchosen screams in outrage, racing to crush she who dares. The charge is met by a resurgent Emperor, and the foul wards are no more, their heart ripped out.
As the titans clash, the shadow is left amidst the roiling chaos of battle, as every Chaos Champion on the field heads for the thief. She licks dry lips, the fogs no bar to her sight. And like a proper thief stuck holding the bag, she flees, summoning a steed from mist and shadow. She takes with her many of their best warriors, on a merry chase around the city, the flames of the star a beacon among the mists. This isn't great for the enemy army. One could even argue she stole them from battle. She certainly does, fleeing for her life, while her God laughs at her predicament.
But not five actions on the job we were actually asked to do.
SuperSonicSound
Shadowmancer of the Shadow Cabal
I mean with chaos i doubt it as well. They're... not the kind to care much about raising a child.
IIRC BoneyM said that the scouting actions don't count as our court wizard job, those are only under the purview of the martial job. A lot of assumptions about the kind of actions we could take and still be counted as doing our job were basically completely wrong.
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- Location
- Mexico
Luckily there are some very specific rules about it.
SuperSonicSound
Shadowmancer of the Shadow Cabal
It pretty much is, High Elves are super racist when it comes to humans and view them as children at best. It's rare to find a high elf that doesn't.
It refers to one specific devotee of returning the dead to life and marrying them in a foursome with our god.
E: Am a fan of yuri myself anyway, but at some point in the process where you require dark magic and violating deeply held beliefs of basically everyone involved its pretty clearly deranged
.
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That's an idea. I'll see if I can make it work next turn.
- Location
- Seattle
With jade wizards anything is possible.
- Location
- Germany
Mopman43
Mountain-Hermit of Nitpeak
- Location
- Vermont
As far as I'm aware, there's enough biological differences between the various races that there's no half-anything.
NavySeel
"I don't know what I'm doing."
- Location
- Places
I mean even with dark and wood elves who might do it on a whim elves have a low fertility rate so it's likely nothing would come of it.
And if we go by elves and 40k eldar being similar in 40k atleast eldar need multiple donations of genetic material from the same person for a pregnancy to take place.
So a one time thing from some hedonistic dark elf almost definitely wouldn't do anything.
- Location
- Mexico
Halflings:
"Am I a joke to you?"
NavySeel
"I don't know what I'm doing."
- Location
- Places
But what is a Ling?
Throw enough magic at it and it can work, but I somehow doubt it would be needed.
Assuming good roll means succeed greatly at the intended task, Anton manages to figure out who he really loves with Mathilde's subtle assistance to get the greedy and ambitious out of the way, and got a fairytale romance.
That leaves out the Dark Elves. One of them would've tried, if only to get a superior slave army. Hell, one would've tried just to be cruel.
This is what we were told before:
I don't think that applies here.
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