I'm pretty sure this is a sort of "all ulgu wizards can manipulate shadows; it's just not represented in the wargame(and rpg?)" thing, like, if you (somehow) convinced a slanesshi sorcerer to do so, they could point at you and basically say "bingo, bango, womb!"
It's just that why would that even be modelled in the wargame or RPG, when 90% of the time turning you into a chaos spawn does the trick?
I would literally eat my own belt buckle before accepting this as a possibility unless BoneyM explicitly states otherwise. Magic spell creation is HARD, what you're talking about would require multiple levels of understanding that are unlikely in the first place and then a wizard that cares enough about the subject to work on magical surrogacy over a vast number of things more important.
This isn't like other fantasy settings where magical experimentation is easy, fucking up usually leads to death fucking up research on pregnancy surrogacy would lead to the death of the embryo/fetus and the mother involved. There's basically no way this would ever be a thing.
I realise I might be stomping on something of joke.
but I feel it's kind of important not to get carried away with thoughts like this because it needs to be understood that magic is dangerous and hard.
I don't know about "count as job actions", but they aren't oriented towards solving the problem that Belegar told us to solve, that being the hive mind colony of spiders.
I don't know about "count as job actions", but they aren't oriented towards solving the problem that Belegar told us to solve, that being the hive mind colony of spiders.
IIRC setting up the journeyman labs was considered part of the job because setting up a work area for your subordinates is like building an office for your clerks.
IIRC setting up the journeyman labs was considered part of the job because setting up a work area for your subordinates is like building an office for your clerks.
I want to be clearer about what I'm saying here. Dedicating some arbitrary number of actions to "the job" is a nice show of effort, but do you know what really impresses? Getting the job done.
If we only spent one action on work, but it ended up with "problem solved" for what we were told to do, then Belegar will likely be a lot happier than if we made a lot of effort but all the rolls failed.
So ideally when attacking a problem we're specifically directed at, we want to hit it from enough angles that at least one set of rolls succeeds (show significant progress) and preferably enough succeed to solve the problem.
I think that's a more important then "how busy did we look at our job", though how busy we looked at our job is also a consideration.
I want to be clearer about what I'm saying here. Dedicating some arbitrary number of actions to "the job" is a nice show of effort, but do you know what really impresses? Getting the job done.
If we only spent one action on work, but it ended up with "problem solved" for what we were told to do, then Belegar will likely be a lot happier than if we made a lot of effort but all the rolls failed.
So ideally when attacking a problem we're specifically directed at, we want to hit it from enough angles that at least one set of rolls succeeds (show significant progress) and preferably enough succeed to solve the problem.
I think that's a more important then "how busy did we look at our job", though how busy we looked at our job is also a consideration.
Yes I understand that it's why I felt the supervise the spider discussion action was literally the most important one we could take if that goes well the task is completed.
Yes I understand that it's why I felt the supervise the spider discussion action was literally the most important one we could take if that goes well the task is completed.
But if it doesn't, then we wouldn't have gotten useful insight on how to defeat the spiders, which was our backup option. That was what investigating the living and dead spiders option was about.
I would literally eat my own belt buckle before accepting this as a possibility unless BoneyM explicitly states otherwise. Magic spell creation is HARD, what you're talking about would require multiple levels of understanding that are unlikely in the first place and then a wizard that cares enough about the subject to work on magical surrogacy over a vast number of things more important.
Magic spell creation is so hard Mathilde did it by accident while trying to win an argument.
Considering the lengths regular normal humans go to to try and have biological children I have absolutely no trouble believing there would be multiple wizards who tried to develop same-sex reproduction (and/or parthenogenesis) for their own reasons.
Even if a majority of them might very well have fallen to Slaneesh afterwards.
Keep in mind the Job Check process:
1) Did you accomplish the job? Being present for the negotiation helps accomplish the job. And so does signing off on the spell to do the diplomacy. To a lesser extent, studying the spiders group psychology may help as well.
2) If you failed at the job, did your fallback plan get advanced? Max studying either spider silk or spider webs help, though the autopsy might be more useful with regards to Belegar's preference of just starving them out.
3) If you didn't accomplish the job OR the fallback plan, did you at least invest a reasonable amount of effort into the job and use your remaining time on making your job easier in the future? We built the Wizard Quarters, which does help. Certainly Max would find studying spider materials easier with an actual lab instead of a repurposed bench. However, there may be questions asked about sending Johann away at a time where he might have been able to help with a plan B.
In terms of priorties, I'd put two items very high up the list. Firstly:
[ ] Commission a Runic item with Dwarf favour. (specify a general type of item; favour expenditure will be decided by future vote)
- [] A very high value rune weapon
[ ] Commission an enchanted item with College favour. (specify a general type of enchantment; favour expenditure will be decided by future vote)
- [] An item on Inspiration
A high level rune weapons will take time to make, and we'll want it available as soon as possible if the skaven cause trouble, which they inevitably will.
How is Mathilde going to be shaped by this? She's been reading cheesy romance novels since she was an apprentice, her first assignment was to a spooky castle just like in her books, complete with secret passages and stuff, her friend comes to her for romantic advice after many years and she tells him to marry for true love, and then he just goes out and does it?
I mean, she may or may not have been the leading cause of the success, depending on how the roll was fluffed, but the results are likely to speak for themselves anyhow.
Magic items can potentially make it much easier to develop skills, in the case of an Inspiration magic item, and to develop the personal relationships to get free tuition, in the case of the runic weapon. Even the most expensive runic weapon only costs about as much as three hero level teachers, while probably being a notably more effective than the skills they'd teach. That's simply because of how humans generally aren't tall enough to ride, to use a metaphor, regardless of how skilled they are, and rely on magic items (usually non-human made magic items) to compensate.
If we use a rune weapon to kill Azorgaron after sneaking into Thunder Mountain (and we wouldn't have a chance without it), we'd fulfill a lot of grudges and make a lot of dwarves we know very impressed. It's the kind of thing that only a Grey Wizard could pull off, as only they could sneak inside and you need a top grade runeweapon to kill a dragon of that magnitude.
The system has been modified, as far as I understand. Buying stuff and comissioning things now happens during council report turns and diesn't cost actions.
[X] Plan Redshirt
-[X][COIN] Gambler
-[X][MAX] Current Task: Have him investigate the properties of the spiders' venom.
-[X][JOHANN] Have Johann return to Altdorf and 'graduate'.
-[x] [EIC] Establish an outpost of the EIC in Karak Eight Peaks.
-[X] Set up quarters and a basic laboratory for the Journeymanlings and any other visiting Wizards: -100gc.
-[X] Be on hand for Esbern and Seija's attempts to communicate with the spiders.
-[X][FREE] Library purchases as per link, laundering Imperial purchases through Barak Varr when possible.
-[X][FREE] Purchase furnishings so you can stop sleeping on a bedroll and can unpack your things: -20gc.
-[X] The Undumgi are to select a leader from among themselves. Get involved in the process so you can investigate the candidate and influence their decision.
-[X] Some of the richest parts of the historical Karak were under the Citadel. See who currently resides there.
--[X] Coin: Gambler
-[X][FREE] Spend time in Stirland helping Anton with his love life.
Anything labeled as Esoteric that'd require favor gets downgraded to Extensive.
Everything should be bought at Barak Var if at all possible. [rolled - 100. all books laundered.]
--[x] Purchase Imperial texts on:
---[x] Skaven (Extensive/Esoteric -250g) [rolled - base and obscure acquired, 100g. Can attempt again next turn.]
---[x] Greenskins (Extensive/Esoteric -250g)
---[x] Daemons (Extensive -100g)
---[x] High Magic (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Entomology (Extensive/Esoteric -250g)
---[x] Toxins (Extensive/Esoteric -250g)
---[x] Trade (Extensive/Esoteric -250g)
---[x] Wolves (Extensive/Esoteric -250g)
---[x] Familiars(Extensive -100g)
---[x] Grey Magic (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Gold Magic (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Jade Magic (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Enchantment (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Ranald (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Ulric (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Divine Magic (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Warpstone (Extensive -100g)
---[X] Engineeing (Extensive -100g)
---[X] Imperial Lore (Extensive/Esoteric -150) (We already got Extensive) ---[X] Monsters (Extensive/Esoteric -250g) [too vague - Gors and Ungors? Chaos Mutants? Griffins and Demigryphs? Dragons and Draconids?]
--[x] Purchase Dwarf texts on:
---[x] Skaven (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Greenskins (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Imperial Lore (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Undead Lore (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Dwarf Lore (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Elf Lore (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Toxins (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Chemistry (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Monsters (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Entomology (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Agriculture (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Trade (Extensive -100g) ---[x] History (Extensive -100g) - [covered by books on specific factions]
---[x] Geography (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Mathematics (Extensive -100g)
---[x] Architecture (Extensive -100g)
---[X] Warpstone (Extensive -100g)
---[X] Engineering (Extensive -100g)
---[X] Winds of Magic (Extensive -100g)
Your only complaint about what is to be your new home is the amount of stairs it's necessary to climb to reach it, but at least you don't have to worry about falling out of shape. The mural was judged beyond recovery so you had it sanded and then polished back, and the rug that was part of the greenskin hoard had been left behind so you had claimed it for your own. The design is intricate and suggests flowers or stars or both, and though you can't tell if it's from Ind or Cathay it sure protects your feet from the chill of the stone below. A few of the Dwarves of Karak Norn had remained behind as their kinfolk returned home to set up shop, and some of the first logs from Ulrikadrin had been shaped into a sturdy bed, a wardrobe and a few bookcases. Your books from Wurtbad seem fairly lonely, but they'll soon have company - you went perhaps a touch overboard on your way through Barak Varr, and in the coming months the delivery of books for your nascent library will form a significant fraction of the imports. But it's not every day you run into a Dwarf with contacts in every publisher in the Empire, and you managed to route every purchase except those from the Colleges through Barak Varr.
Though of course your own furniture took priority, next in line was that of your fellow wizards - at least those that were willing to sleep inside. Though their comfort, privacy, and good health was important, your main focus was the laboratory. Though you did donate some of the simpler equipment that your set of enchanting cantrips made redundant, your main concern was proper grounding, both in the hopes of lessening any miscast and also to prevent the accumulation of energies that could leak out into Karag Nar - you imagine that would very quickly wear out your accumulated goodwill. Plain old iron was the standard, bearing the triple attributes of conductivity, magnetism, and arguable folkloric significance - though debate on whether 'cold iron' was a poetic description or a specific type of iron flared up within the Colleges on a regular basis. During your Apprentice days you were content to nail a strip of pig iron to your workbench and call it a day, but the job being done properly requires careful observations of the natural ebb and flow of magic to determine where it would naturally gather, and then having a radiating network of metal branch out into the stone from there. For this, you prefer copper to iron - slightly less magically conductive, but significantly easier to melt and pour after drilling the sinkholes. Once the magic is in the metal it would radiate out into the stone instead of pooling in the air, and Karag Nar was big enough for its stone to soak up any number of Journeyman-level magical mishaps.
If you were building for yourself, that would be enough. But if Karag Nar is going to host wizards of every College, then it's not just Ulgu you have to worry about. How to contain and dissipate small amounts of accidental Dhar was well documented and drilled into every Apprentice, so you just follow the established best practices. Ghyran and Ghur and Chamon were trivial - have the Journeymen come in, gather magic, and then unleash it without forming it into a spell. Two more were fairly straightforward - a small fire for Aqshy, a goat fated for that night's dinner for Shyish. Hysh was trickier, and you had to commandeer every mirror in the mountain and burnish up some borrowed brass shields to get sunlight and the Wind associated with it in the room. The final obstacle was Azyr, of weather and the sky and inspiration. It took days of leading a handful of deeply skeptical volunteers through suitable thought exercises to garner even a few tiny scraps of it, and though your magical senses owed nothing to your actual eyes, you still felt eyestrain coming on when you finally managed to track its preferred pooling location in the laboratory. A final hurdle: the airier Winds gathered in the ceiling, rather than pooling like fog in a way you were used to. Long iron nails pounded into the ceiling will have to do.
Long, tedious, and tiring work, but with it finally done you at least have the comfort of knowing it won't need to be done again.
---
Johann wasn't feeling cooperative in the field of hint-taking, and you almost had to tip your hand by the end. The statement 'it would be a shame if the Dwarves thought less of us for a wizard like yourself to not hold their proper rank' earned you a long stare, but he never ended up asking the question on the tip of his tongue and instead muttered an agreement and left to pack, still not entirely sure whether you knew. Hopefully he spends his time in Altdorf constructively, since it would take a stay of at least a few months for his 'promotion' to be convincingly 'earned'. In contrast, Maximilian was a lot more cooperative. So far none of the probing attacks had been in number, and thus none of the sentries had been subjected to the spiders' venom, which meant that each dead spider had a still-full venom gland to harvest. The disconcertingly clear liquid looked completely innocent sloshing about in a vial, and Maximilian's job was to find out what it was capable of.
Though the Skaven had yet to move openly against their new Dwarven neighbours, their presence almost always meant that mundane rats became bolder and more numerous. Dwarves were well aware of this, and of the dangers those rats could represent - the spread of disease, the spoiling of food, the ruination of crops and torment of livestock. So along with their defences of steel and stone, there was the distribution of cunning little devices that lured them in and either killed them outright or trapped them to be dealt with later, and the Dwarves had no compunction about handing over the captured rats for experimentation. You've had some experience with rats as test subjects, bred for hundreds of generations in the Colleges to be docile and cooperative, but those friendly and inquisitive creatures were nothing like these bold and vicious beasts. Only Aethyric Armour saves Max from more than a few nasty bites, and he's forced to put the study aside for a time to dig out the notes from his Apprenticeship and relearn Sleep.
The initial results are alarmingly deadly, but Maximilian's studies of the fangs of the spider instead of just the venom allows him to gauge how much a typical dose would be, and found that when he scaled down the dose for the rats to simulate the effect on a human the result was paralytic, rather than fatal. The rats regained some mobility after about twelve hours, and were walking around after fourteen, though sluggishness lingered for another day or so. Re-envenomation of the same subject multiple times in succession showed a faster recovery, though this resistance proved temporary in nature and faded after a week without re-exposure. The injection sites showed a marked reduction in sensitivity that lasted long after the other effects had faded, suggesting a degree of permanent damage to the nervous system. Concerning, but a sword or an arrow was no less capable of causing permanent damage, and it would be a relief to know that anyone that fell to the spiders could make a full recovery if they were retrieved.
Unfortunately, Maximilian found no way of countering the venom apart from time. The books that were accumulating in what you would soon be able to call your library suggested a great many treatments, each proving as useless as the last. The books of Dwarven origin mostly suggested the application of alcohol, but this seemed to be as more of a consolation to the victim than any attempt at treatment. He borrowed Panoramia from the Halflings, but though you applaud his initiative, her Cure Blight spell did nothing to help the subjects recover.
Glad to know you need not fear the spiders and their venom too much, you attend Esbern and Seija's attempt at establishing a dialogue with the spiders.
---
The Talking Beast works at range, you're glad to hear. Your magical senses make it straightforward to spot a spider standing still in the shadows across from the fortifications, watching carefully as almost a counterpart to the Dwarves on guard. With triple the usual detail and hands clinging tightly to gun and crossbow, the Dwarves watch as the three of you approach slowly, trying to close within casting range of the beast. The eyes gift it with a panoramic view of the world and it needs not move to watch as you approach, so it's a shock when it finally does, as it scuttles backwards at speed, at least some of its eyes remaining locked on the three of you.
You return to the watchpost, and with the increased detail you move to the next. Just as before, a spider watches, and tiny strands of Ulgu and Chamon that the previous spider lacked grab your attention. Curiosity. Though if Esbern and Seija were right, the creature before you was no more curious than your arm could be - it was merely the conduit for a greater mind. Esbern and Seija approach once more, and the spider shifts slightly, ready to retreat (or attack?) if necessary but otherwise allowing them to close. Ghur swirls through Seija, takes shape, and dives from her outstretched hand to cling to the creature like a net, and it fails to react.
"No longer approaching," says... the spider? You would have imagined all sorts of terrible voices for a spider, but this one sounds like Seija. A moment of thought forces you to conclude it makes sense that the voice she granted would be similar to her own, but it's extremely unnerving to hear her voice coming from the immobile spider. "Sounds. From..." The spider twitches, then turns in a rapid circle as the two Amber Wizards take a step back. "This-We is making noise," it says, and then it darts away at full speed, fleeing into the darkness.
You look to Seija, who shrugs. "It can take them like that, sometimes. Most creatures don't have the capacity to understand what's changed, but a human voice at close range can alarm them."
"Who was it talking to?" you ask.
"Different types of hive mind," says Esbern. "Some don't truly have a unifying mind, they just each act in such a way that contributes to the whole. Others have an actual collective intelligence, either distributed among them or focused in a single individual. They might communicate through sound too low or too high or too quiet to hear, or they could have a non-physical connection. More animals than most realize are capable of interacting with the Winds in a limited way."
"Like a familiar bond?"
"That," Seija says, "is a matter you could debate for days. Let's try the next one."
The next one allows your approach, and when the spell hits it, it lets out a small chirp. Then again, and again, and then it pauses. "Sounds begun," it says. "Preceding: front-leg-gesture from not-green-four-leg."
"Hello," says Seija.
There is a long pause, as confusion swirls within the creature. "Sound-with-meaning from not-We. No other-We seen. No other-We smelled. No other-We chirp." Instead of a word, it let out that same chirp, birdlike and almost cute. "Sound-with-meaning from not-green-four-leg." It pauses. "Sound-with-meaning from not-green-four-leg," it repeats.
"We want to talk with you," says Seija.
"Sound-with-meaning message: not-green-four-leg seek sound-with-meaning with this-We." It pauses. "Relaying. Not-green-four-leg can sound-with-meaning?"
You exchange glances with Esbern. "Yes," says Seija.
"Sound-with-meaning message: agreement."
It continues in this vein for some time, as the creature relays messages from... the collective? A leader? Whatever form the central mind takes, it certainly takes some mangling to get its concepts to fit into Reikspiel, and every now and then the spider lets out a chirp instead of a word as it reaches something that refuses to cooperate. Luckily it realizes when this happens and rephrases around it, and when it falls silent it waits for the spell to be recast and continues where it left off. It is walked through the concept of the possibility of communicating with a not-We, which it seems it only believed to be possible with We or other-We. After a moment of thought, you confirm that you are part of the not-We-other-We of the smaller-not-green-four-legs. You confirm its suspicion that the smaller-not-green-four-legs are not-food, and that the larger-not-green-four-legs are likewise not-food, then also agree that the green-four-legs are sometimes-food-sometimes-not-food. Diplomacy is a wonderful thing.
[Esbern and Seija talking to We: Learning, 23+12=35.]
[Mathilde talking to We: Learning, 57+23+7(Library: Arthropods)=87.]
It turns out to have been very good you remained involved. Ghur is the wind of beasts, but though this being technically qualifies it doesn't think in terms the Amber Wizards are used to. You, however, find the challenge straightforward and intriguing. Ulgu requires and the Grey College prizes flexibility of mind, and this is not dissimilar to some of the thought exercises inflicted upon Apprentices. It is a long, slow process to ease the being into the idea of cooperation with a not-We, and part of the challenge is wrapping your mind around sentences where 'We' can be second-person and the line between singular and collective is blurred. Though the Ghur magics are capable to some extent of communicating concepts, it seems to help if you use the same grammar and phrasing instead of leaning entirely on the spell, and days pass as you learn of it and it of you. It confirms that it is less-We from lack of food, but that it is only slightly weakened and far from crisis, and since it seems to have no concept of lying whatsoever you cautiously believe it. Thankful you erred on the side of comprehensiveness, you put aside all your tomes on known spiders and instead take up Dzierzon's Ants, Termites and Bees, Lorraine's A New Relation With The Hives, the Anonymous Formicidaemon - Possible Parallels Between Insects And Warp Entities, and manage to be only temporarily sidetracked by jotting in corrections in the margins of Waaagh And Hive, which started with half an interesting idea and then flailed helplessly with it for the length of a tome.
With Esbern and Seija only there to cast the spell and take fascinated notes, you have a breakthrough when you finally figure out what it means by Echo. It seems that the intelligence is distributed rather than centralized, which means that if something is to be remembered for longer than the lifetime of a single node, it needs to be told back and forth - hence, Echo, the period before the birth of the current eldest individual (or this-We). With that you're able to get at least a vague account of its origins - for as far back as it knows, it lived around and preyed upon the furred-four-legs who are usually-food, and it would relocate regularly to prevent an organized retaliation. Then one day it must have passed from the Skaven-occupied Underway to the greenskin-occupied Karag Lhune, and found that while the green-four-legs were less reliably prey, they were also less prone to organizing, so it could build up a nest/web/nursery/home to its liking without being dislodged.
A lexicon builds up and a hesitant understanding takes shape. The We is very logical and straightforward - the smaller-not-green-four-legs have taken over from the green-four-legs, and they were not-food, ergo, a no-food was required - a migration. If the Dwarves would allow it to pass, it seems, then it would happily skitter off into the dark to seek new prey. But you also discover the word for an alliance, or at least a non-aggression pact - 'many-food'. When there's plenty of food to go along, We and other-We - other hives of the creature - need not fight. Very straightforward, or at least you think so - Esbern and Seija seem utterly lost. You're quite pleased that you'll be able to present not only victory but a range of options to Belegar when next the Council convenes.
---
[Undumgi Culture: 91]
Meanwhile, events closer to home are no less intricate and sometimes less understandable. As you watch from the shadows, a pecking order establishes itself with surprisingly little violence, with perhaps a little help from you being a little less stealthy and a little more intimidating in your observations when someone starts to gain traction for the wrong reasons. Most of the Undumgi seem to see recent events as the chance in a lifetime to catapult themselves to comfort and stability, and those who talked openly about the possible profits of a little light banditry on the side are very quickly given stern encouragement to hitch a ride on the caravans back to Barak Varr. To your surprise, they seem to be picking up Khazalid only slightly less quickly than you did, and a patois of Reikspiel, Tilean and Khazalid begins to take hold as the natural leaders of the Undumgi begin to show themselves.
The first prominent figure is Oswald Oswaldson, who never hesitates to tell anyone how far back the line of Oswalds goes. He hails from Nuln, takes great pride that his father personally had a finger blown off while maintaining the Steam Tank Miragliano, and is very easy to goad into a very long diatribe about how the surgeon that medically discharged him from the Halberdiers didn't know what he was talking about, and besides they put all the guts back in, didn't they? You sent off a very dull-seeming letter to a fictional friend in Altdorf, and get one back that when decoded confirms Oswald's service history, his father's injury, and that indeed the Oswalds seem to go back at least as far as the Second Vampire War, where an Oswald was commended for decapitating a ghoul before it could chomp down on a Priestess of Morr, and also very sternly reprimanded for the way the Priestess apparently decided to thank him, which also resulted in the next Oswaldson.
The second is Francesco Caravello, former merchant turned caravan guard turned adventurer, who joined the army in Barak Varr instead of coming all the way from the Empire, and talks bitterly of the time he got all the way back to Mad Dog Pass with a fistful of jewels and his weight in spices, but the Border Princes were too busy fighting each other to keep the way clear. With Ironclaw Orcs approaching he cut a horse free of the wagon and escaped, only to watch helplessly as the greenskins overturned his cart, killed the other horse, poured spices into the dirt, and found the jewels he had hidden underneath the rest of his cargo to keep the Border Princes from trying to extort them from him. From that day, or so he said, he swore to never be caught unarmed again, and after buying a sword with the last of his coin he joined the protection detail of caravans like the one he used to own. The rest is violent history, as safe roads are very rare in the Old World. A note to Barak Varr confirms his story, and several attestations to his good standing, as merchants keep close track of who can be trusted to watch over their cargo.
The final candidate, at least after you weed out a few who your sources ended up contradicting the stories of, is a Bretonnian woman named Soizic. She was a Knight Errant, only to have been firmly ejected when an unfortunately-timed privy break revealed certain things to a particularly inflexible Knight of the Realm. To hear Soizic tell it, at least one in every five high-voiced and beardless young Knights hid bound chests beneath their armour, a tradition enshrined in a half-dozen strikingly similar tales of a young lady taking her brother's or father's place in one war for survival or another, and most Knights knew when to shut up and feign blindness. But every now and then one would be too thick to understand the tapestry of polite fictions that allow Bretonnian society to function, and they go around like a loose cannon puncturing the veneer required to elevate reality to fable and considering themselves noble for it. So now she is banished from Bretonnia and wanders from noble cause to noble cause, explaining to anyone rude enough to ask that one doesn't technically require a horse to be a Questing Knight.
With the least suitable candidates weeded out, you'd feel happy to allow any one of these to take command of the Undumgi, but if you decide on one particular candidate over the others, your word carries a lot of weight and would likely decide the matter there and then.
---
With the strange new cultures developing in both Karag Lhune and Karag Nar, it's almost a relief to get back to the relative normality of underground infiltration. The Citadel is built atop seemingly limitless amounts of criss-crossing tunnels and hallways, and whoever lurks down there is in a prime position to make a nuisance of themselves. Instead of the hours of the Expedition, you've got whole days, even weeks set aside for this, and by the time you're done not a single secret will remain.
Most greenskin preferred enough light to see by, and they supplemented the natural fluorescence of mushrooms with burning torches. Skaven, however, are creatures of the darkness, needing only the slightest glimmer of light to see and being perfectly capable to navigate by nose and whisker even without it. An enormous advantage against any conventional infiltrator, but when one is capable of becoming one with the shadows it becomes almost unfair. The shallowest levels retain the symbols of the Broken Toof Tribe, former rulers of the Citadel, but underneath that you see the sigil of the Skaven scratched in stone. But a variation that you recognize from the Dwarven books on them: the downwards-pointing lines are extended, with three claw marks on each. Clan Mors, strongest of the Warlord Clans.
[Probing the approaches: Intrigue, 42+19+4(Library: Skaven)=65.]
Skaven territory is said to be more greys than black and white, but you frown to yourself as a picture starts to form. This isn't claimed territory. These are battle lines.
There's an aura of scratch-marks that indicate their initial claim, and every now and then a patrol moves through it. But they move in force and with fear, dozens of black-furred Stormvermin scurrying at speed from place to place instead of exhibiting the raucous display of force the books led you to expect. There's a very clear line of demarcation in every tunnel that leads deeper into their territory, each bristling with halberds and gun barrels. But what is it that's got them on the defensive?
[Signs of Battle: Intrigue, Breakpoints 60/80: 26+19+4(Library: Skaven)+20(Ranald's Blessing)=69.]
It's by chance that you stumble across the next piece of the puzzle, and you touch the Coin hanging from your neck with a smile. An oncoming patrol had been heading right for you, and you stepped aside to let them pass and that's what let you see the narrow side-passage half-buried in rubble. An attempt at undermining or bypassing the defences by the look of it, which ended in an explosion that causes the collapsed dirt to glow with the malign taint of warpstone. You move from body to body, and disregard the Clanrats bearing the symbol of Mors scarred into their flesh in favour of their opposing force. They were too well fed to be Skavenslaves, but they were rife with mutation - bald patches and tumours, but also extra claws and tails and teeth. And overgrown rats the size of dogs, similar to the ones you saw being sold in Karag Lhune. Clan Moulder at war with Clan Mors? Judging from the battle lines, Moulder seems to be established somewhere under Karagril.
For a moment you're sure you see a cat's eyes staring back at you in the distance, but as you approach you realize it's a pair of bullet-holes, still faintly glowing with evil energy. You follow the trail to a battlefield that shows the more typical signs of Skaven warfare: gnawed skeletons and scavenged weapons, and everywhere the marks of malign weaponry - bullet holes, scorch marks, and spiderwebbing out from where it impacted a wall, the distinct pattern of warp lightning that missed its target and earthed against stone. Clan Skryre, too? Bad news for Mors. Bad news for you, too. Three Skaven clans? Then again, three fighting each other could be less dangerous than one united in purpose. Skryre seems to be established in Karag Zilfin, the former military center of the Karak.
[Mapping the Trench: Intrigue, 87+19+4(Library: Skaven)=106]
You slip through the Skaven defences easily enough and enter the heart of the Karak. The Cavern of Stars was once a crystal cave that the Dwarves laboured for generations to transform its natural beauty to one of the most beautiful places in the Old World - or so go the stories. It was also the place where the Skaven first emerged in Eight Peaks, the floor falling away to reveal a sea of rats that poured in every direction, for the Cavern of Stars was the intersection of the Underway from the Citadel and five of the Karags. Now every crystal is long gone, and there's no telling why. Did they see some industrial purpose for them? Did they decide they like them, and a thousand rats each stole a piece of beauty for themself? Or did they shatter it simply because they didn't make it?
You shake the thought loose and climb down through the missing floor into the Trench. Your progress is slow as you avoid the teeming masses of Skaven going every which way, and there are some rooms and even entire segments you can't enter without breaking your Substance of Shadow on the sickly green light within, but over several days you're able to map the heart of Clan Mors' domain. And it's not just information you gather, as when you lurk for that long you learn where the most important parts are, and lingering in them allows, every so often, for opportunity to fall into your lap.
[Rolling...]
That the Skaven had an entire internal economy was still bizarre to you, but the proof is right before your eyes as in their chittering language they haggle and bicker and exchange tiny shards of warpstone as currency, the tension in the air not stopping them for a moment. Most everything that changes hands seems to be powered or enhanced by warpstone, and just because you might be unharmed by Dhar doesn't mean you're going to start carrying it around. Two adjoining stalls draws your attention and you watch in sickened fascination as a cart of fresh corpses is unloaded from one battle or another, and the corpses are hauled over to a slab for a freshly-sharpened cleaver to be applied. On one side, fresh meat is delivered to bubbling soup bowls and skewers danging above a fire; on the other, the armour the rat was wearing is piled up to be sold to some new wearer, still sticky with the blood of the previous owner. Hideous, yet efficient.
A particularly large rat is currently on the slab, and the rat that pulled the cart is having a loud altercation with the one that wields the cleaver over it. You approach, keeping your distance from the cooking fires and trying to angle yourself for a clearer view. You thought so - though it's covered with leather bindings to keep it in place on a body it was never meant to protect, that's definitely Dwarven craftsmanship. 'World's Edge Armour', the Skaven call it. Dwarves have a variety of names, each more outraged than the last. Gromril plate from a fallen Ironbreaker, clumsily adapted to protect a Stormvermin or Chieftain of note. No wonder the two rats thought it worth fighting over.
As the cart-puller learns why he probably shouldn't have started a fight with a Skaven already holding a cleaver, you cut the straps and roll the corpse out of the armour. By the time the butcher looks up from his latest work, you're gone, and so is the armour he just killed for.
---
Matters in Stirland soak up most of the remaining scraps of your free time. You shuttle documents back and forth until the right signatures are on the right contracts, and at a pace you're not sure how anyone can live with a party of merchants, shopkeepers and clerks set out from Wurtbad to make the long trip to Barak Varr and then to Eight Peaks. Just as time-consuming but much more interesting and important to you is Anton, who remains just as besieged as when you left him.
[Result of your Pep Talk to Anton: Diplomacy, 95+12=107.]
Shockingly, your words seem to have installed a spine of steel in him, and the rumour mill is quite abuzz with how Countess Alexandra's eldest daughter put her hands where they weren't welcome and Anton had her escorted under guard all the way back to Sigmaringen with a very sternly-worded note to her mother. You lurk nearby for a while just to be certain, and sure enough, every time Cordula von Halstedt or Stefanie Krebs gets within line of sight of the town's walls, word is passed to the castle and he has the meeting room set up with EIC paperwork and he gets them one or two initialled codicils closer to a rather generous trade agreement. After von Halstedt discovers his daughter has delivered free passage to EIC wagons along the Moot Road, both he and Krebs recall their daughters before any more damage can be done. Anton follows that up by paying a visit to Fort Redemption to speak to Gustav about a suitable firearm; now every ambush with Reinhild Gerber ends at the firing range. Anton's developing into quite the fine shot, and you're not sure Reinhild even has marriage on the mind, as she chatters away about guns the entire time and ends up wandering back to her workshop with fresh ideas before the conversation can move anywhere else, so you're fairly sure any danger from her has been defused.
When you part ways with him once more, he's no less eligible a bachelor, but those that saw him as an easy target are now significantly more cautious and he's no longer besieged. You don't know if he'll be able to find the love of his life out there, but at least now he has the chance.
---
There was, of course, one final matter to occupy your time.
The Liber Mortis.
There are many books on forbidden magics, and quite a few of them are famous enough to build a legend around. As far as you know, the original Liber Mortis is the only one that a malicious creator or a paranoid inheritor hasn't filled with malicious traps for the unwary. Some would argue that its contents are even more dangerous than any magical ambuscade - the full tale of how a faithful soul turned to Necromancy, with every spell and insight documented.
You are well aware of the weakpoints of the human mind, so even though there's no magical traps you take precautions against the more mundane kind. A roaring fire, a comfortable chair, Wolf curled up at your feet dreaming puppy dreams, a glass of brandy - insulation for the soul. You wait for your hands to stop shaking, and then you turn past the title page you first saw on the outskirts of a battlefield in Sylvania.
It begins as a diary, and you frown down at it wondering if you might somehow have picked up the wrong book until you remember Frederick Van Hal's history. A devotee of Morr, until disease and warpstone and Skaven forced his hand. You suppress the desire to skim and read every word of the entries as the dead begin to outnumber the living and green shards fall from the sky.
---
Of course. Of course. It was so obvious.
That's what one says at a time like this, right? That sort of protagonist was popular in a certain type of novel, and they inevitably end up turning away from darkness for love.
It's not actually obvious, you concede. It's actually entirely counter-intuitive and if it hadn't been broken down for you by the writings of a long-dead genius you'd never have believed it could work that way. Dhar is inherently unstable, of course. So you use as little as possible, as quickly as possible, right? So it has the least amount of power and the least amount of time to break free?
No. With the patience of a priest, you weave it atop itself again and again like the cords of a rope, with every strand of it straining with the desire to explode free but held in place by every other strand. And just like that you have all the power of Dhar and none of the drawbacks... at least, not unless your attention wavers while attempting it and you burn alive from your soul outwards.
Or, if you're so inclined, you twist it the other way, and Dhar disintegrates in such a way to cause more Dhar to disintegrate, and like a single spark striking gunpowder any Dhar construct nearby unleashes all its energy at once, a chain reaction of failing enchantment. No wonder the Grand Theogonist could tear Mannfred Von Carstein's army apart. It required only the faintest hint of power, delivered in just the right spot to start the dominoes falling.
You close the book and stare into the fire as Wolf wuffles in his sleep.
---
[Book purchases - 700 crowns through the Colleges, 2000 crowns and 1800 gold coins through Barak Varr. Paid with 180 + 1100 ingots.]
[Bedroom furniture and Wizard Quarters set up - paid with 40 ingots.]
[World's Edge Armour acquired]
[Advanced Morrite Lore acquired]
[First Secret of Dhar acquired]
[Second Secret of Dhar acquired]
---
You've got great news to deliver to King Belegar, but once more you're presented with the tricky question of how to present it. As the expert your recommendation will carry a lot of weight. If it is decided that the We will remain, figuring out long-term communication will be tackled in the coming turn.
[ ] [SPIDER] The We can be allowed to scutter off into the Underway, never to be seen again.
[ ] [SPIDER] The We can be a powerful military ally against the greenskins.
[ ] [SPIDER] The We can be a powerful military ally against the Skaven.
[ ] [SPIDER] The We can be a welcome addition to the multispecies community of Karak Eight Peaks.
[ ] [SPIDER] Make no recommendation.
Then there's the Undumgi. Perhaps there's a candidate that you prefer over the others.
[ ] [UNDUMGI] Oswald Oswaldson, Imperial veteran
[ ] [UNDUMGI] Francesco Caravello, Tilean ex-merchant
[ ] [UNDUMGI] Soizic, Bretonnian Questing Knight
[ ] [UNDUMGI] Make no recommendation.
And finally, the World's Edge Armour, a trophy snatched back from Clan Mors. It belongs to the Dwarves, of course, but as you recovered it and are held in good esteem by the Dwarves, you might have a say in its fate. You don't know its origin, but you've no doubt the Dwarves would be able to deduce it.
[ ] [ARMOUR] It should be worn by the first Ironbreaker of the reborn Karak Eight Peaks
[ ] [ARMOUR] It should be reforged into a worthy commemoration of the Karak's rebirth.
[ ] [ARMOUR] It should be returned to the Hold it was stolen from, to build strong ties among the Karaz Ankor.
[ ] [ARMOUR] Make no recommendation.
[ ] [LIBRARY] No purchase.
[ ] [LIBRARY] Write-in.
[ ] [RUNE] No purchase.
[ ] [RUNE] Write-in.
[ ] [ENCHANTMENT] No purchase.
[ ] [ENCHANTMENT] Write-in.
- So, the 'changing a plan after it has received votes' topic is a contentious and long-argued one, and it could be there's no solution to it that would please anyone. Instead of setting rules, here is my suggestion: if you're going to make a plan, have at least a short description in that post that describes what your intent for that plan is. If you're going to make a change to the plan, if that change would mean the original description no longer fits, it might be better to make a new plan entirely.
- Reading of the Liber Mortis will continue in future turns.
- From now on, library purchases will take place in the much less busy post-results vote. This does mean you can't buy books as an instant reaction to any given problem; this is intended. Plan ahead.
- A rune/enchantment commission is deciding on a general item to be finalized later. Think 'runesword' or 'enchantment for writing papers better'. These are for portable items, things like runes on a laboratory will use the normal voting system.
- If the rune/enchantment vote turns into a knock-down drag-out melee I'll withdraw the option. If a given commission can't garner consensus support, don't keep relitigating it.
- No moratorium on spider/undumgi/armour votes.
- Four hour moratorium on library/rune/enchantment vote. Please also wait until this point to begin compiling a library list.
- We're doing well so far but we're still working the kinks out of 'normal' turns, so this is an ongoing experiment.
To be more specific, 111 people voted to marry Anton, compared to 112 people who don't want to marry him, plus 130 helpless romantics, which is not exactly a statistical blip.
To be honest, the feeling I'm getting from Wolfy is that he's more a skill than a social link. You can kick it with him to develop new bonuses to your bond but he's basically fine with the default level of social interaction available. For sure lets not treat him like our actual son because that's a one way trip to Familiar Obsession.
"My human wants to spend time with me, this is the best"
"Princess Edda has biscuits and gave me one, this is the best"
"Investigated a weird smell today, turned out to be books, this is the best"
If I may ask, what happened to the rest of the Ranald Blessing that was doubled from Gambler? Should it not have been 20*2, or am I missing something? @BoneyM
If I may ask, what happened to the rest of the Ranald Blessing that was doubled from Gambler? Should it not have been 20*2, or am I missing something? @BoneyM
