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Prince Kazrik, Diplomat of Karak Eight Peaks
> Prince Kazrik was very clearly made Diplomat because of his family rather than his ability, but he's yet to fumble in any significant way and might be coming into his own.
< Karak Azul has been isolated since before the birth of Sigmar. To him, humans are a strange and exotic species that he never expected to actually meet. And Wizards are the most exotic of all.
Adult: Having passed the age of 30, this Dwarf is considered an adult and ready to begin studying their trade in earnest.
Apprentice Runesmith: Kazrik spends some of his time learning Runesmith from Thorek Ironbrow. While not quite a breach of tradition, it is unusual for royalty to study the Runes.
Clan Donarkhun: This Dwarf is of the Royal Clan of Karak Azul.
Sharpshooter: Many years of hunting with his father have made Kazrik a crack shot with his crossbow.
Umgongr: This Dwarf has an interest in and an affinity for the manlings.
Its a nice Diplomacy trait considering the Karaz Ankor has been kind of a butt to Belegar thus far.
Kazrik certainly learned Reikspiel incredibly fast for someone who as of a handful of years ago had never MET a human.
Princess Edda Grimbrow, Steward of Karak Eight Peaks
> Karak Izor has close ties with the Empire, but it seems being royalty insulated Princess Edda from a lot of that. She's formidably efficient in her comfort zones, but still getting used to the world outside Karak Izor.
< You've been somewhere between friends and acquaintances with her since near the beginning of the Expedition. She likes you, but she's yet to become fully comfortable with non-Dwarves.
Adult: Having passed the age of 30, this Dwarf is considered an adult and ready to begin studying their trade in earnest.
Ambitious: Edda has her sights set on becoming a Queen.
Clan Grimbrow: This Dwarf is of the Royal Clan of Karak Izor.
Organized: Edda is extremely efficient at establishing, controlling, and keeping track of large projects.
Traditionalist: Despite having technical authority over the Undumgi, Edda focuses on the traditional Dwarven guilds.
It occurs to me that Edda MIGHT have a bit of OCD put together. The Undumgi are inherently messy, so she deals with it by not looking at it, otherwise she's going to want to streamline it and she doesn't know how that might take.
Just a theory though.
What you've taken to thinking of as your White Tower after its limestone exterior was entirely the creation of Dwarves, but though Dwarves supply the stone and the muscle, the design of your Grey Tower is entirely the work of the Grey College. Algard supplies the fundamentals, having researched the matter thoroughly in the creation of his own towers, and to build on that you are forced to subject yourself to the Celestials.
You can almost hear her sulking about needing to go seek out the Celestial College due to her location.
The College itself stands surprisingly close to the Imperial Palace and the Great Temple of Sigmar, but nobody notices it, protected as it is by an enormously overdone enchantment. The insistent mental suggestion that what you're seeking lies in any other direction bounces off a mind trained to wrestle with ambiguities and misdirection, and the magic gets more and more agitated as it realizes that you're not being dissuaded from looking directly at the sixteen slender towers it protects, and it starts tweaking fate more and more to try to obstruct you. A couple have a screaming argument right in front of you, which you ignore. A cart has a wheel fall off in just the right place, until you take three steps to the left. A sudden mist materializes, doing nothing to block your Magesight. A painter carrying a precariously large bucket of whitewash totters towards you, until your glare overrides the set of coincidences that had set him on a collision course with you and he carefully avoids you, and inadvertently avoids the loose cobble that had been firmly attached to the ground a moment ago. Finally, the bottom-left quarter of the square black door swings open and a peeved doorkeeper bustles over to ask your business before the enchantment starts getting drastic. You make no attempt to hide your pleased smirk, knowing the doorkeeper would have been just as smug if you had actually approached the door and triggered the prognostication charms that would have told him your business in advance.
Say...doesn't the Grey Order do something similar?
Its just hidden in the slums instead of next to the palace.
Its also in favor of slapstick.
Within the cobbled courtyard of the Celestial College you're no less disruptive to their little games, and with a mental exercise you were taught when you were eleven you hold firmly in your mind the thought that you have no idea where you're going, and just as a Perpetual appears around a corner with an arched eyebrow and directions on his tongue, you sweep right past him and continue on your way.
That's one form of 'Petty Magic' alright.
The celestial college's use of rampant precog seems pretty neat and makes a very good show of being Wiser Than Thou to the uninitiated visitor.
Which apparently conflicts with the Grey Order because they're
too similar.
Hubert had been quite informative, knowing better than to side against his dear teacher, and following his directions you make your way to the quarters of Magister Kereveld, who had sparred with young Hubert during his apprenticeship and seemed to have his head screwed on straighter than most.
That is abuse of power.
I approve.
According to apprentice rumour, he had disdained using the stars to tell the future and instead used them to tell true north, and signed on to a flotilla to Lustria to seek his fortune. He instead found a continent filled with unfriendly reptiles, and after tearing a star from the sky to bludgeon a sea serpent and coming off second-best in a magical duel with some sort of magical frog, he had turned right back around, returned to Altdorf, and resolved never to leave his home continent again.
To be fair if, on my first major expedition I wound up having to use Battle Magic to fight off a gribbly and then had to magically duel a Slaan I too would nope back home and nope ever leaving again.
You find the wizard right where Hubert told you he would be, and you allow him the satisfaction of having expected your arrival and you allow him the customary fifteen minutes to talk your ear off about his topic of choice, which turns out to be the debated existence of a tenth planet, and how calculus factors into the debate. Due to reading you did to properly describe the Matrix, you find yourself surprisingly able to follow his argument, and being able to engage with the topic dear to his heart instead of merely smiling and nodding earns you enough goodwill that when his time is over, he does not hesitate to turn over control of the discussion.
Suddenly ambushed by a debate on orbital mechanics, I did not expect.
I take it thats a Learning based Diplomacy roll being passed.
Just as you'd hoped, Kereveld is practical enough to understand weather in general, not just weather as it pertains to his magic, and with an unspoken exchange of the ephemeral currency of the Colleges, he's able to sketch out the basics of how to attract a certain type of weather without involving or attracting Azyr, the wind of magic most closely attuned to weather in general.
So basically, exploiting atmospheric science in order to figure out how clouds, mist and fog forms, then exploiting the natural and mundane forces?
At the right places all you need is a bunch of well placed windbreaks. All you really need is some way to trigger wind speed loss, air pressure increase, in a low temperature area to trigger flash condensation.
With a list of helpful titles in hand, you make your way to the least protected of the Celestial College's libraries, which by an agreement almost as old as the Colleges would lend out its works to Magisters in good standing of any College. You find the titles in question, then stare at them intently thinking surreptitious thoughts; two servants and an apprentice all collide at the doorway as the magics of the Celestial College hastily tries to throw a coincidence in the path of your imagined plans, and you smirk your way past the three of them with the books you have every right to borrow in hand.
Mathilde you butt!
Must be spamming their intent reading effects something fierce. Mathilde over here showing off her Advanced Infiltration apparently.
With a little time, a lot of mathematics, no small amount of expensive materials, a few beams of wood imported from Araby, and a failed power stone that only attracts instead of emitting Ulgu, your tower takes shape. Every morning when the sun rises above the mountains, instead of burning away in its merciless light, the morning mist flees to your Grey Tower to be absorbed; since the absorption is metaphorical rather than literal, this leaves a great deal of condensation and the ever-practical Dwarves rig up gutters and tubing to collect it, and you're now able to start each morning with a refreshing drink of morning dew.
Delicious mountain dew.
How does it look? If I were to try to maximize lingering morning mists I'd probably want thick panels of stone/concrete angled to maximize the amount of shadows cast by the morning sun, with a lot of overhangs to disrupt airflow and trigger condensation depending on the wind direction, built over a sheer drop or overhang, on the sunset direction if possible.
It'd probably look a fair bit like modern art.
Though a pair of under-robe shoulder holsters had some popularity amongst the Grey College, ever since you began learning the greatsword you've favoured practical snug tailoring secured with belts instead of the loose and billowy robes that would allow easy access to a hidden arsenal, though your accurate and conveniently slim Marksdwarf's pistol does find a home within an inner pocket. Some pistoliers favour a one-on-each-hip arrangement of holsters, while those that fight with a sword in one hand and a pistol in the other prefer both pistols on one side, as only their off-hand would need access to them.
Oh no she's dressed with as many belts as a JRPG protagonist!
That Branulhune takes only a thought to draw clinches the argument in favour of the former, as you could unload a revolver with your dominant hand and then summon Branulhune to it and draw the second revolver with your offhand during combat, and the overall effect is pleasingly symmetrical.
Dwarf infection progresses...
You've walked past the Ulthuan Embassy a time or two in the past. Built for Teclis, Yrtle and Finreir to call home during the Great War Against Chaos, it was built in an attempt to ape the style of Lothern by architects that had never been further than Marienburg, which so amused and delighted Teclis that he wove sorcery into it that has resisted the attempts of every Ulthuani ambassador since to tear it down.
Thats just delightfully petty.
Like, Teclis almost certainly knew the building would be considered an eyesore by elves who've actually CAME from there and thus decided to immortalize it(and also to prevent it from getting rebuilt every time the ambassador rotated as a practical side, since the ambassador would be too proud to admit that they couldn't fix it).
Sort of like building a horribly tacky korean pagoda for the chinese embassy.
Currently it flies the flag of the moonlit raven, the flag of Nagarythe, the haunted land ravaged once by daemons and ever since by strife. Malekith was once Prince of Nagarythe, and when his civil war to seize the Phoenix Crown failed, he didn't just take his people with him, he tore the fortress-cities of Nagarythe from the isle of Ulthuan and sailed them to the land that would become known as Naggaroth. Those Nagarythians more loyal to the Phoenix King of Ulthuan than the Prince of Nagarythe inherited a half-drowned, half-ruined land of ghosts and blood and ashes, and ever since have sworn vengeance upon their treacherous kin. You almost feel bad for your captive.
So uh...its elf-Stirland?
The Druchii is going to have a good time.
To be a Grey Magister is to be in the service of the Empire, whatever else you might be doing, and that gets you in the door. Your cargo, carried in a wheelbarrow you borrowed from a cabbage merchant, gets you a meeting with the Ambassador himself, who introduces himself only as Daroir. He is dressed in the colourful silks of a typical Elven politician, but protrusions and the clinks when he moves indicates it is worn over armour and probably weapons. He offers you refreshments in stilted but otherwise perfect Reikspiel, and though he has the manner of a politician, the actions are robotic and his gaze never strays far from the face of your cargo.
Even better, the Druchii is going to wake up smelling of cabbages hundreds of miles away from where he was punched out. He's going to be so disoriented.
And Daroir is...thats the face of a yandere with Sempai delivered in a nice package.
"Tell us," he asks as he sips daintily from a crystal glass, "how one of our shameful brothers has entered into your captivity."
Under other circumstances you might be more circuitous, but to Nagarythe, there is only one historical enemy of Ulthuan that matters. "The Karaz Ankor is reclaiming Karak Eight Peaks, and have recently wiped out Clan Moulder's presence underneath it. This Naggarothi was their guest."
"I trust," he says after some thought, "that in saying that, you are not using a humorous inaccuracy when you mean he was enslaved by them."
"He was found unrestrained in comfortable quarters, with silken sheets and valuable trophies and Lustrian gold. I do not know why he was there, but it was some sort of partnership between Skaven and Druchii."
Daroir learns that yes, a Druchii managed to sink even lower than he thought they could. The best part is? His Naggaroth handler AND Moulder don't know anything. As far as anyone else knows, they died in the aftermath of Moulder's fall to Mors.
Also I hope we stole the sheets and used it for the Duckling meeting room decor. Not for our own bed, you never know what the Druchii had been fucking on them.
"He has not been allowed to regain consciousness since he was captured. When he is awoken, no time for him will have passed since he was in the Moulder warren."
"A generous gift, from an unexpected quarter." Daroir smiles in anticipation.
As mentioned earlier, a fresh captive gives them a lot of options for the interrogation. Extended captivity can degrade a captive's mind, as can torture.
Memories are surprisingly malleable, especially under the influence of strong emotion or pain.
...and I suspect Nagarythe experts can probably successfully pretend to be a Druchii agent to a suitably confused and disoriented captive with repeat use of Mindhole.
"It is a rare gambit of Teclis that does not bear fruit. I am glad to see the blossoming of this flower." He lifts a hand to his long, snow-white hair, and though you could swear it was unadorned, he plucks a tiny black raven carved from onyx from his locks and holds it out to you. "If you have the inclination and time to spare between now and when the world ends, seek Lothern and present this to any of the Sea Guard. For ninety-nine days you may call Nagarythe your home, and shall shed blood alongside us to defend it. Our Arhain are not as sought as Saphery's Sariour, but you of the grey of eight may be able to appreciate them."
Much have been said of the internship, but I'd note that a lot of learning apprenticeships basically involve "You come here, you see the master at work and you pick up a few tricks along the way". Formal teaching is relatively unusual.
If nothing else this is a premium chance at many Spell Masteries.
Three sapphires twinkle in the crown atop the head of the King as he calls the Council to order once more. "Karagril," he says, "is the last cannon we needed in our parapet. Water, silver, and proof that the Expedition wasn't a fluke." Though there's not as much fire in his voice as you're used to hearing, the steel conviction in it remains unchanged. "All our enemies are at each other's throats. We remain besieged, but in the same way every Hold is; an island of Dawi and Dawri in an ocean of foes. We will abide."
It seems he's had his sights on Karagril for a while now.
NOW the Karaz Ankor should start ending aid in earnest!
His eyes flick to Dreng. "Dreng. To fortify needs not be said, but also probe the other Karags. We were fortunate that only Moulder tried to intervene against us when we marched on Karagril, but the other Karags are now aware we have the ability to project force against them, so we need not hold back. I want to know exactly what dwells in and under each peak." Dreng bangs his fist against his chest in a salute.
Dreng has a busy turn. He needs to fortify Karagril AND he needs to scout every peak and every underpeak.
"Gotri, how goes the shipyard?"
"If it went any better, you'd start seeing river monitors with rotor blades," he says with a smug grin. "Whoever takes over will need to tweak it, of course. Like fitting a suit of chainmail. But I give it three days tops between arrival and laying down the first hull."
"Good. Turn your eyes downwards. I know gyrocopters are your vocation, but we've got one above-ground killing field that I itch for enemies to throw themselves against, and three underground fronts I'm much less happy with. Bring forth the wrath of Morgrim and shore up the Underways."
Gotri cleared the shipyard with honors(hopefully the actual shipwrights will agree when they get here)
Now his task is to Fortify Underways(Siege Engine edition)
Prince Gotri gives a single nod. "Engineering is engineering. We manufacture Thaggoraki regret in bulk."
And a beautiful turn of phrase!
"On that subject. Edda, the Weavers?"
"The Weavers Guilds of the Karaz Ankor have released a united statement condemning the use of spider-silk, saying it is the domain of Elves and Goblins," she says flatly.
You know, the worst part of it is that Belegar was going to
pay them to make money. What crawled up their ass and died?
I smell politics on par with the Sigmarite clusterfuck behind the scenes.
"They what?!" Princess Edda opens her mouth to repeat herself, but King Belegar holds up a hand. "No, I heard. I..." He clenches a fist. "I expected Dwarves to act with nobler motives than the self-interest of a Marienburg monopolist. Fine. Fine. Go to the Empire. Find every human weaver worth half a damn, or Halfling weaver or Ogre weaver for all I care, and point them in this direction. They're paid copper, I'm offering silver." He sighs, and closes his eyes for a moment; worried looks are exchanged over the meeting table.
Belegar's faith in the Karaz Ankor takes another hammerblow, I hope Gunnar talks to him about things.
Less noticed but
Edda took a blow here too.
Why?
She's focused around traditional dwarf guild production. Thats fine.
The most valuable product of Eight Peaks is going to be produced by non dwarves.
Benign neglect no longer suffices, unless she wants the wealth of the silk going to the EIC instead of Eight Peaks, and however uncomfortable she might be with non-dwarf industry, she's going to need to handle it.
I'd suggest when the social turn comes up, we meet Edda and Belegar to assess what we could help with next turn.
And on a more cheery aside, I'm now hoping for Ranald to lean on the dice and roll us up an Ogre Master Weaver somehow. Halflings might be better for practical purposes, smaller hands make for finer weaving work, but just...imagine the ogre.
"Kazrik. Did you find a wright to go with Gotri's shipyard?"
"Yes," he says quickly, and you have to refrain from sighing in relief. "The Barak Varr Shipwrights Guilds is amiably schisming into the Skarrenokri and the Slotchokri. I've sworn us into a partnership with the Slotchokri, and Zhufbar's and Karak Kadrin's Shipwrights Guilds have done the same.
Blue water and brown water navies. Makes sense. Surprised they hadn't done it sooner, but I suppose the river traffic is just too low prior to the canal madness.
Zhufbar, Karak Kadrin and Barak Varr are on board with Eight Peaks, which is good, especially Karak Kadrin.
The Skarrenokri are retaining the previous Shipwrights Guild's shipyards - can't have a gap in maintaining the Barak Varr Navy, after all - so the Slotchokri are desperately short of working space until they manage to rearrange the Barak Varr port to fit them in. They say they'll start putting boats into the water for us as soon as they arrive as long as they can build maintenance facilities and a dry-dock at Ulrikadrin to tide them over. Once things are set up for them back in Barak Varr, they'll hand over the facilities to us in payment for their use, and we can retain as much of their service as we'd like to at standard Guild rates."
...Wilhelmina! Did you scheme this too?!
Like, as a result of the dominos she set off, Eight Peaks just got a big boost in riverine trade
and is perfectly situated to provide good quality yard space right when they run out.
Hell, Eight Peaks just started on theirs when she arrived.
I swear she has some kind of economic sharingan.
"Can't ask better than that," King Belegar says. "Now we just need steel-"
"Erm," Prince Kazrik says. "I, that is, we- Karak Azul, that is- we've been accumulating steel since... well, since. Never stopped mining and smelting it, even after there was nobody left to trade it to. And when I checked with Father, his exact words were 'give them every ingot we have and if that's not enough I'll tear more from the mountains with my bare hands' and then he went back to chasing after the few hold-outs left in Karagril."
King Belegar pauses at that, and spends some time searching for words. "The generosity of my Brother-King is everything the Karaz Ankor should strive to be," he says hoarsely. "My thanks. To him and to you. Every ingot will become a weapon protecting Karak Azul's link to the world." He takes a deep breath, and collects his thoughts.
We need more Kazadors. A dozen. The bro-est of kings.
Heck, screw the profits, they should get the first shipment of the silk goods, especially the armor grade stuff.
Belegar needed that so freaking badly.
Think he might want to stay away from Karaz-A-Karak for a while though, because right now if he shows up in person he's probably going to have some not nice at all words for them.
"Prince Kazrik. How is your Reikspiel?"
"Better," he says. "I've been spending time amongst the Undumgi whenever I can." King Belegar shoots you a glance, and you simply nod. Prince Kazrik had held a ten-minute conversation with you before the meeting, and though his accent was odd he was certainly fluent.
"Very well. Visit Nuln - it's the Empire's Zhufbar. I've got a treasury full of gold and I want a mountain range full of fire support. Tell them this is their only opportunity to become part of that process before I lay down a cannon foundry right here."
"Manling cannons?" Prince Gotri says dubiously.
"Manling cannons," King Belegar confirms. "And manling mortars, for that matter. And any other Morgrim-forsaken device that can achieve some semblance of accuracy. Enough of the Undumgi have artillerist experience to teach the others."
Belegar needs cannons right the heck now, so it makes sense, he doesn't need accuracy, he needs sheer volume of fire to keep the endless hordes back, with Skaven and Orcs he can hardly miss.
Also huh, he's quite sharp. Must have personally surveyed the Undumgi a couple of times to notice that they have ex-artillerists.
He turns to Gunnars. "Speaking of the Ancestors..."
"Done," he confirms simply. "Grungni, Valaya, Smednir. Morgrim already has a shrine in the gyrocopter bay, Grimnir is served by the Hall of Oaths, and Kragg and Thorek each assured me they've seen to Thungni."
"Good. Once Karagril is secured, see to a proper shrine to Grungni there. We'll be pulling silver ore from the mountains north of Death Pass soon."
"And Smednir?"
"Karag Rhyn was once the home of smelting at Eight Peaks, it will be again. Smednir's home is there." Gunnars nods in acceptance. "If there's no further business?" A round of headshakes. "Very well. Go about it."
Temporary shrines are up.
Little of note there. And I see our proposal is for later for fear of causing heart attacks. Hehehe.
"Good." He prods one of the fangs of the skull, then passes it back to you. "Great, in fact. The Empire has not been the most consistent source of assistance, but you get no ore from a shaft you never dig. Okay. Now..."
You never know if you don't try.
I suppose not all shafts are dry.
"The Burning Shadows thing?"
"Yes, the Burning Shadows thing!" You've heard King Belegar angry, but you've never heard him bewildered. "You can weaponize a mountain?!"
"Not on a whim, but yes, with time and equipment-"
"Why am I just hearing about this now?!" He smacks the paper with the back of his hand. "Why was that not how you introduced yourself back in Averland?! 'I'm Mathilde Weber, I can kill things with mountains'."
"So, I take it-"
"Yes! I would like very much for you to put a hard time limit of twenty-four hours on every possible overland siege we could face!" He takes a deep breath. "Okay, first, make damn sure it can't happen by accident or by any hand other than your own, and once you've put your own measures in place to ensure that, get Kragg and get him to add some of his own. But once that's done, yes. Bring in as many Zhufokri as you need, take as much gold and make as many promises as it takes." He shakes his head.
Sieges take weeks to months, against dwarves, often years.
Armies are hard to change directions on a dime. We can officially make it so that the dwarves can shut the door, and just wait for evening to kill the whole besieging force the first time.
Taking a fortification by storm needs 10 to 1 odds on HUMAN fortifications manned by regular soldiers. Taking a cave fortification like that is this side of impossible, they'd need to deploy an Idol or the like to pound through. And they'd need to march really fast.
"Are there any other apocalypse weapons you've been sitting on that you want to share with me?"
You think of the Aethyric Vitae, of the Liber Mortis, of the Second Secret of Dhar. "None ready for deployment," you hedge.
He stares at you, realizes you aren't joking, and shakes his head. "Zhufokri," he says, stands, and leaves.
"Dawi," you say with a sigh, gathering up your skull.
Utterly true.
Look at how much yield we got out of a drop of the Aethyric Vitae, and look at the GALLONS we have stored in the treasury.
Now if we can get all that energy facing the same way...
So to sum it up the tasks again:
-Marshal Dreng - Fortify(Conventional), Recon Eight Peaks
-Sky Thane Gotri - Fortify(Siege Engines)
-Steward Edda - Hire Weavers(non-Dawi)
-Diplomat Kazrik - Fortify(Cannon[Nuln])
-High Priest Gunnar - Build Shrine To Grungni(Karagril)
-Loremaster Mathilde - Fortify(Magic)
