- Location
- Nowhere, Midwestern USA
- Pronouns
- She/Her/They/Them
I made an edit to that post with a new understanding. On Math's own view, Im afraid I'll have to disagree. I think it is purely thread-side.
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Warhammer Fantasy: Divided Loyalties - an Advisor's Quest
- Thread starter Boney
- Start date
- Fantasy Users' Choice!
-
- 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.
I made an edit to that post with a new understanding. On Math's own view, Im afraid I'll have to disagree. I think it is purely thread-side.
I suspect he rolled back during character generation, though I don't think he's ever said so explicitly.
Quest
The Great One
- Location
- Everywhere
I think no more gacha period is a good idea. I'll point out that the more spells we have, the likely we are to learn new spells in the gacha. This came up when the gacha idea originally came up and we saw this when last turn we learned only two spells.
At this point it might be more efficient to learn spells one at a time.
- Location
- Norway
Nah. It's perfectly valid to lock in certain aspects of the protagonist. Famous case in point: Commander Shepard, not Commander Insert Last Name Here like so many other games have with customization.
Omegahugger
Inattentive Idiot
Notably, Roswita fits within the giant loophole that trait's wording included.
- Location
- The Middle of the Howling Wilderness
Hmm. I'm still not a fan of the ship but people over the last couple of pages have made some good arguments so I'll drop my replacment goldfish complaint and just say I like Johann's Glorious Golden Abs better.
I see you're a shitposter of culture as well
NSMS
Probably evil, unfortunately.
- Location
- A rapidly widening tear in the fabric of reality
On the shipping front, all joking aside, I don't feel any character has the right kind of chemistry with Mathilde to be romanceable at present. There are a few who Mathilde does have nice and interesting relationships with (I especially like her interactions with Kragg and how she's affected him, hence the 'Kragg-sempai' jokes), and a few who I think it'd be a good story for her to romance (Roswita, as a tale of her overcoming her prejudices and fears to find love), but none that I actually feel have any real noticeable romantic chemistry with her.
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Diceroll sexuality is a option (if it's actually honest instead of a dodge to the 'i'm not confortable writing XXX' post). Myself i prefer when QMs banish sexuality and dynasty from quests as a pointless digression from ULTIMATE POWER.
Consequentely CK2 are a bit ehh. More because of the voting pattern with those ridiculous long lists of options that take forever for the QM to make and never go anywhere except in 5% of the options, while taking more than double the writing time because the QM had to think about what each option would do and because it requires waiting for the votes before writing the actual story.
CK2 quests are very silly time management.
Consequentely CK2 are a bit ehh. More because of the voting pattern with those ridiculous long lists of options that take forever for the QM to make and never go anywhere except in 5% of the options, while taking more than double the writing time because the QM had to think about what each option would do and because it requires waiting for the votes before writing the actual story.
CK2 quests are very silly time management.
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- Location
- New Brunswick, NJ
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
That's not the same thing. Ling Qi was set up as attracted to men by auctorial fiat from the beginning of the quest. She was thirsty for muscly hunks from, like, chapter two. The quest never had a Waifu Vote. I think that is a valid way to write a quest.
This quest, on the other hand, had a romance vote fairly early on, which included men, women, and being ace/aro. What won was "I'm not feeling this right now," followed by "Abelhelm." This means that, while Mathilde's orientation canonically includes at least one man, it is not limited to that on a meta level; if the thread votes to romance a woman, Mathilde will be into it.
EDIT:
So that's an artifact of how Boney is writing, in part: characters aren't going to put the moves on Mathilde unless we, the players, vote that we are interested in their moves. In another part, that's an artifact of "we aren't choosing to get to know many new people." I'm not feeling the Johann relationship or the Roswita relationship, but I understand where that's coming from, because they're some of the only people that we've gone from "strangers" to "trust" with over the past two years.
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- Location
- Nowhere, Midwestern USA
- Pronouns
- She/Her/They/Them
Could have been bisexual/pansexual, or had sexuality shift. Shift does happen. Not that common, and never fast, but it does happen. I dont know this thread in particular, so I cannot comment with any facts there to back up that that character is/isn't.
Also, separation of aesthetic attraction, romantic attraction, and sexual attraction: while they are generally aligned for most people, they are not inherently nor do they have to be. I know one or two lesbian's who like to look at that sort of thing; doesn't mean they are interested in sex nor romance. They just like how it looks
EDIT: added some more stuff.
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Kornet
Quite possibly a sloth abomination
- Location
- Mother Russia
I may be overblowing it a bit, but I believe Mathilde had undertones of this. Just not up to a full trait level (aka "this wound will not heal").
Aegon Targaryen
Dragonking of Fuyuki
- Location
- Romania
I knew there was a reason I respected you, and you have validated my faith in your talents.
SuperSonicSound
Shadowmancer of the Shadow Cabal
Bah, you'll see this coming update with a Belegar social scene is going to start the ship sailing.
I suspect that had more to do with the way Mass Effect generated dialog than any great sheep-related metaphor. If anything given the boggle-eyed dead stare that was the standard mode of emoting the NPCs had throughout much of the game they should have called him Fisher.
- Location
- United States
If we really needed to, we already have a method of ultimate power. It just means becoming the enemy of everything we care about.
- Location
- yorkshire
rolling the dice sound like a better way of solving Romanic issues it would be more fair to me
- Location
- Canada
Getting off topic to discuss another person's quest, so I hope it ends after this post
To my knowledge there was no dice roll, the character in question was just straight and an in universe messy teenage tangle with her best friend who happened to be gay and attracted to her was important to both of their character developments
I won't go into too much detail anyway
I do however recommend the quest in question
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Turn 23 Social - 2481
[*] King Belegar, to try to get some idea of where he's at with his crisis of faith.
[*] Algard, reporting the Skaven Civil War in person instead of in writing.
[*] Empress 'Heidi', to be present for the birth of her child
[*] Princess Edda, on a hunt for weavers across the Empire.
[*] Roswita, as she rides out the chaos of the influx of Battle Wizards.
[*] Algard, reporting the Skaven Civil War in person instead of in writing.
[*] Empress 'Heidi', to be present for the birth of her child
[*] Princess Edda, on a hunt for weavers across the Empire.
[*] Roswita, as she rides out the chaos of the influx of Battle Wizards.
A Cleric of Grimnir could be mistaken for a Slayer at a glance, but several things set them apart to those that were familiar with the Dwarves. First, that they had an air of solemn determination instead of a bubbling cauldron of emotions barely contained under a facade of bloodlust that most Slayers possess, and second, that they bear a tattoo of the Rune of Grimnir on their chest, instead of their own personal Runes. In the Hall of Oaths, a silent, solemn gathering watches a Cleric of Grimnir converse quietly with a Dwarf that by his beard can't be older than forty - barely more than a child. The conversation concludes, and in efficient motions, fistfuls of the youth's hair are gripped and sliced off by the razor-sharp handaxe of the Cleric. Tears flow freely down the faces of some of those watching, but though you can see despair, you can also see pride.
With his hair hacked down except for a single stripe down the center, the Dwarf will now make the long trip to Karak Kadrin to complete the ceremony that dedicates a Dwarf to the seeking of death in battle. Any Dwarf in the Karaz Ankor would give him food and a night's shelter, and transport if they're going in the direction of the Slayer Keep. It's not necessarily part of the ceremony, as far as you understand. It's more of a symbol of the Oath they intend to take, to show the Clan they think they've dishonoured that they intend to set things right.
"There's a concoction of volcanic salammoniac and animal fat," King Belegar says beside you, his voice low enough to not carry to the crowd. "Makes the hair stiff and brittle if you leave it in long enough. Makes this ceremony a minute or two long, rather than a solid fifteen minutes of yanking hair and nicking the scalp. Many a young lad has seen sense and washed it out before they made their way to the local Temple of Grimnir." He lifts his crown and runs a thoughtful hand through his own hair. "Made it once, though I didn't get so far as to put it in, between my father's passing and my first successful raid into... well, into here."
"What did he do?" you murmur back, watching the youth. You think you might have seen him a time or two, but even in the smallest and most important Clan in Karak Eight Peaks, you just don't have the time to put a name to every face.
"Nothing." He sighs. "Nothing, when he thinks he ought have done something. Battle of Karagril, thinks he didn't step forward fast enough and fix the shieldwall when the Dwarf in front of him fell. Battle of Karag Lhune, he kept his shield raised when he thinks he should have lowered it and swung. Battle of the Eastern Gate, he busied himself dragging to safety a Dwarf he thinks he should have known was dead." You watch the newly-shorn Dwarf embrace who you assume are his parents, accept a freshly-forged axe from a Longbeard you recognize as the Eldest of Clan Angrund, and with a frozen face he walks out of the Hall of Oaths, likely never to return. "Way the Karaz Ankor is, and has been for millennia, every Dwarf must be a warrior, even those least suited to it. He had the deftest hand with a scrimshaw knife I've ever seen, could take a Skaven's fang and engrave into it the name and lineage of the one who slew it. But because he can't face battle, or perhaps because he thinks he's not good enough at facing battle, now he's going to dye his hair orange and get the proper tattoos and when he freezes up in front of a troll, he's going to be eaten. And for all the power of the crown, the most I can do is make sure he'll have easy passage at least as far as Zhufbar."
The gathered kin of the now-doomed youth file out of the Hall of Oaths, not one of them casting a single eye your way. King Belegar isn't actually here, not formally. If he was formally here to witness this, properly announced by his Hammerers and acknowledged by the Cleric of Grimnir, it would signify that the youth's shame had been severe enough to shame the entire Kingdom.
"Karag Lhune was once a quiet corner of the Karak," he says as the two of you walk out of the now-empty Hall, King Belegar's bodyguard shadowing you as unobtrusively as a fully-armoured Dwarf can be. "Filled with the odds bits-and-pieces that couldn't quite fit in the more-populated Mhonar or Rhyn or Zilfin. Temples, airship docks, the school and apprentice barracks, an overflow vault. Now the entire Dwarven population of Karak Eight Peaks fits into the Chiselwards, and could quadruple before we'd need to start excavating new rooms."
You remain silent. If you were honest, you'd have to admit to having had similar thoughts. Only one in four Dwarven children were women, and it was a rare woman that would have more than four children, and she would usually be approaching her hundredth year by the time she does so. That was an awkward fit into a world where greenskins and Skaven and the forces of Chaos and other, more esoteric threats applied a constant attrition.
"If I truly cared for the safety and future of my people, I'd have never sought the forces to accomplish this," he says quietly. "Clan Angrund, sure, Clan Angrund never allowed itself to settle down, and would have marched towards extinction if someone didn't find a way to succeed. But the others? The Norgrimlings were comfortable in Zhufbar. Helhein were celebrated in Karak Norn. The Bronzefists had their own mountain in the Vaults - not the biggest mountain, nor the richest, but it was theirs. And a dozen other clans either considering or in the process of uprooting for the home none of their ancestors for three dozen generations has seen. The Karaz Ankor is not hurting for space - the entire lot of us could fit within Karaz-a-Karak these days. So if we don't need the space, and I'm not seeking to expunge Grudges with Dwarven blood, and I'm unable to retake the home of my ancestors without abandoning their ways, what am I accomplishing?"
"Karak Azul?" you hazard.
He remains silent for a while, and then exhales. "It's true. Their reconnection to the Karaz Ankor might not be possible any other way. But I find it difficult to find satisfaction in their Karak when my own is so diminished, and will never be otherwise in my lifetime."
---
The atmosphere in Altdorf is thick with suspense as the birth of the Emperor's heir approaches, and the Colleges are no exception. The Jade College crowd the Palace, fighting for primacy with Priestesses of Rhya and Shallya. The Celestial College crackles with energies as every path into the future is scoured for any hint of possible disaster. Rumours fly that those few Light and Bright Battle Wizards not deployed to Sylvania are lurking throughout the city, waiting for any hint of a possible threat to the Empress or her child. The usually-abandoned entrance of the Amethyst College is filled with the bravest citizens of Altdorf imploring Morr not to cut short any lives. The only Colleges apparently unmoved by the atmosphere are the always-absent Ambers, the unfeeling Golds, and, of course, the ever-enigmatic Greys.
Or so any outsiders can tell, anyway. The usually-empty entry hall is filled with Grey Wizards idly reading books or chatting, only for their act to be punctured whenever someone enters and everyone looks to see if there's news.
The tidings you bear are not related to the Empress, but they're certainly good. For the second time in a year you make your way into Algard's office, and though his table is as clear as ever, the two added pocket dimensions indicate that paperwork may have been piling up while he was engaged in tower-related business in Eight Peaks. "Trouble with the tower?" he asks distractedly, squinting at a parchment covered in numbers.
"Not at all, Lord Patriarch. I bring the best kind of good news."
A small smile twitches in the corner of his mouth. "The kind that would have been very bad news, except it ends with 'and you took care of it'?"
"Don't know where you'd get that idea." You take a seat across from him. "I speak, of course, of a full-blown Skaven civil war."
After a moment of thought, he sets the parchment down, and the dimensions of the desk wrinkle for a heartbeat as the parchment slides in the opposite direction of reality and out of sight. "You have my attention."
"I've taken a cooperative Clan Moulder prisoner. He seems to still be loyal to the Clan in general, but he ended up on the wrong side of a leadership dispute so he's got no direct ties, and the rest of Clan Moulder got wiped out that day so there's no mundane way the Skaven would know I have him."
"'Mundane'. Good qualifier."
"Thank you. He says, and I believe him to be telling the truth as he understands it, that Clan Pestilens and their subordinates made a play for control once more, and this time Clan Mors sided with them. They've failed but there's been no intercession by the one in charge, so the other Clans are scrambling to finish the job and grab what they can in anticipation that when It does, It'll call a halt to hostilities."
"Pestilens, the rest of the Brotherhood, and Mors..." he leans back and stares into space, muttering to himself. "Shame we're only hearing about it in the aftermath, but still... Mousillon, Bastonne. The current Ambassador's a good egg, I'll have a word in his ear. As for here... Ubersreik, of course. And Nuln..." He refocuses on you. "This might be worth having a poke at the Conspiracy of Silence. I'll have a little word with people who'll have a little word with people. If it all ends in disaster pray you never hear a word of it again, but if everything goes as it should this might be a nice little feather in your cap. Needless to say, if your guest spills anything else of interest I want to hear about it."
"Of course, Lord Patriarch," you say with a smile.
He returns it. "You've become quite a credit to the College. Keep it up, young Magister."
---
[Rolling...]
While there, you take the opportunity to check your pigeonhole to see if there's been any mail - most would know to contact you in Eight Peaks, but apart from the Amber Hills, academia rarely strays beyond the walls of Altdorf. Finding an unexpected bundle of papers and letters, you make your way back to the privacy of your unadorned and rarely-used quarters to go through it.
The first piece is a rebuttal to Preliminary Observations on the Eusocial Cave Spider, and you frown at the opinionated Amber with a lot of opinions on where the line is drawn between sociality and eusociality, and is quite firmly convinced that the We must fall short of the latter. You flip through the other pages present, and find a counterrebuttal from Esbern and Seija that quite thoroughly punctures the debate presented on its merits without having to bring the We into it at all, which you imagine would be quite necessary with them being somewhere within the forests of the Empire.
[+1 College Favour from further attention to Preliminary Observations on the Eusocial Cave Spider]
You flip through a number of reports on attempts at adapting the MAP to other winds, and apart from the Bright College it seems that all attempts were dismal failures, seemingly because their own Winds don't have the natural inclination to flow and pool. But then you flip further and find a sparse few paragraphs in which a Bright College Lord Magister guts your spell, replaces its innards with a few simple flourishes, and sends it on its way, simplified enough for any Apprentice to cast. Following that is eight near-identical letters informing you that your spell has been added to the curricula of all eight Colleges.
[+10 College Favour from Mathilde's MAPP being developed and added to the curricula of the Colleges]
---
While the Empress is surrounded by a thick swarm of priestesses, midwives, ladies-in-waiting, and various other courtly hangers-on as the projected day of birth approaches, that she greets you like an old friend combines with the reputation of the Grey College to ensure that they all step very lightly around you. The constant internecine status conflicts in the Imperial Court are well known, and you're not here to start fighting in them, you're just here to see that your oldest friend's biggest gamble continues to go smoothly.
Though it goes unnoticed by the relatively undeveloped senses of those few Jade Wizards trusted enough to look her over, divine energy dances through both her and her unborn child, engaging in a constant dance that intertwines without ever quite mingling. Shallya's blessings fill them both with vitality, and Ranald's careful oversight seeks to guide them into a comfortable future like a pilot into port.
[Rolling...]
You don't witness the birth itself, though you're right there with Heidi's hand trying in vain to crush yours through Aethyric Armour; the entire business is genteelly screened off with a series of curtains, some seemingly designed specifically for this. Between Heidi's yells and a Shallyan priestess commenting that five hours wasn't even unusually prolonged, the entire business leaves you feeling quite convinced that the process of reproduction is very poorly designed indeed, no matter the entertainment that the earlier stages might represent. But at long last, a strong set of lungs gives a scream of outrage at his eviction, and the likely future Emperor is placed into Empress Heidi's arms.
"He's beautiful," she says dreamily.
He's really not. You have a quiet word with a Rhyan priestess, who assures you that it's normal for him to be that colour and for his head to be that shape, and both should be temporary.
---
Bells ring, town criers shout, and messengers scatter in all directions as news goes out to every corner of the Empire. Celebrations spill out into the street, partly out of patriotism and partly because canny Luitpold has subsidized the price of wine and ale throughout the city, ensuring that all citizens start their relationship off with the new heir on the right foot. Custom dictates that parents give thanks to Shallya for a healthy birth with a small gift of food, and Luitpold scales up accordingly and turns over the contents of several royal granaries. In the coming days, the newborn will be taken to the first of what is sure to be many holy services at the Grand Temple of Sigmar, but before that lot can get their claws into him, at the nexus of a set of coincidences that see each and every one of the usual swarm distracted elsewhere, the two of you find yourselves alone with the child, who sure enough has adopted more traditional colouring and skull shape. "They say it's bad luck to pick a child's name in advance," Heidi murmurs, her eyes locked on the sleeping child's face. "Luitpold had one chosen for the previous one. Two, I suppose. Karl Franz." She smiles at the babe. "He doesn't look like a Karl, though. Could we get away with calling him Ranald, do you think?"
"Probably not," you admit reluctantly. "Magnus, perhaps?"
"No, the Todbringers are kin to the original and they make enough hay out of it as it is. Wilhelm?"
You screw up your nose. "After the one that tried to purge wizards because some entirely non-magical thespian tricksters looted his treasury?"
"He did? Oh, terribly sorry, I didn't realize he'd do anything of the sort."
You narrow your eyes at her, not entirely sure if she's messing with you, but after the amount of times you've deployed that same act you can't really criticize. But you can fire back. "Dieter?"
She fakes a gag. "Perish the thought. But I'm liking the theme. Leopold's out, not giving the Unfähigers a foothold. Probably be a bit too on-the-nose to go with Sigmar, wouldn't it?"
"I'd say so." You smile as a thought occurs to you. "How about Mandred?"
She bites her lip. "The Skavenslayer? Saved and united the Empire... I like it."
The child stirs slightly as his tiny shirt is unbuttoned, and you prick a forefinger with a shadowchisel and draw a cross in blood above his heart. "Ranald greets you, Mandred. May this world bring you joy, and may you bring joy to this world."
---
[Rolling...]
Princess Edda is originally of Karak Izor, which has more ties with Tilea and the Border Princes than it does the Empire, but the Young Holds have close ties and introductions to the Elector Counts of Averland and Wissenland are hers for the asking. It makes some sense that she'd capitalize on those relationships and linger there rather than pushing deeper into the Empire, but you follow a hunch and arrive unannounced at an awkward hour, and when sunrise and cock-crow arrives and a sleepy Princess returns to her guest quarters, she finds an unexpected Grey Wizard awaiting her.
"Good morning, fellow Councillor," you say with a smile. "I applaud your dedication, to be getting to bed this early in the morning."
"Ah," she says, brain trying to go from zero to a sprint in an instant. "Magister Weber."
"I must also applaud Prince Kazrik for providing such prolonged assistance to you."
"Yes," she says. "Assistance. We were-"
"Grungen? Developing bokkul? Adgalazgandit?" Though Khazalid doesn't have Reikspiel's breadth of creative euphemisms, it does have a lot of abusable mining terminology, and Edda blushes deeply. And that only worsens as you exercise your grasp of the language.
Unfortunately you didn't come all the way to Nuln just to see how much you could make the Princess blush, so after fishing for as many juicy details as she's willing to give, you take her on a jaunt across the border and up the road to Blutdorf. Sadly you've other business elsewhere and can't linger long enough to properly catch up to Anton, but you can make introductions. As the ruler of Blutdorf, he can spread word and vouch for the offer, and as a well-liked figure in local nobility, he can make even further introductions to spread an even further net. And not least of all, he can act as the local node of the EIC to funnel the actually rather stupendous amount of underworked, underpaid, or adventurous weavers within the EIC's sphere of influence that they've gathered the information of.
And while you make that introduction, you have an opportunity to watch Princess Edda as she does her best to operate among humans. And the result is obvious: she doesn't.
Oh, she operates fine as an ambassador, a representative speaking on behalf of a Dwarven Kingdom, but she doesn't seem to understand how humans operate on every level, and seems limited to speaking her request and seeing what happens, and if she gets any result but acquiescence she's lost. It's not a matter of any sort of dislike, as far as you can tell - you and her get on fine, and you're not just a human but a wizard. It's just that as an administrator, she's used to Dwarves, who can almost always be predicted and when something goes wrong, it's usually in a fairly predictable way. You imagine it must be something like a champion sheepdog being expected to run herd on a cat farm.
Normally it would never be a problem for a Dwarven Princess, but Karak Izor's gambit to put her within marrying range of King Belegar had put her in control of a sizeable and growing human population. Troubling. You tuck away your newly-won insights and move on.
---
[Rolling...]
You open the neck of the sack dubiously and peer in, and are presented with the sight of a great many simultaneous grins. "Ah."
"They're like cats!" Roswita shouts, waving her arms out the window of the briefing room in the general direction of the battlefields of Sylvania. "Every day, someone with fire instead of hair or surrounded by birds or a skull instead of a face wanders in and drops off a Vampire skull or the head of some forest mutant or a cartload of bones and I say thank you and they act like I've thrown a party and named my firstborn after them, and they go off to find something even worse to drag back! Look what they did to my table!"
You consider the small sapling protruding from the wood of the table, its small green leaves stretching towards the window. "I see."
"One of them walked off with my wall sconce stuck to her, I had to send a footman after her to get it back! She didn't even notice! Another made all the candles flare up, and one set fire to the curtains! One of them I had to tell only visit in the morning, because if he comes too late in the evening all the staff start nodding off!"
"It..." You search for words. "Could be worse?"
"I was expecting, I don't know, fire, floods, plague, having to repopulate Sylvania from scratch. Not this... weirdness! Part of Tempelhof got destroyed, and some of them rebuilt it, but refused to rebuild the roofs because 'why would they want the stars obstructed?' and they had to be led away to go bother the Strigoi."
"So Tempelhof is sorted?"
She subsides and scowls before admitting it. "Yes, and their Primar came all the way here and said if we keep away the Vampires and the wizards, they'll pay taxes and accept whatever authority I put over them. Still got Strigoi and Lahmians to deal with, and it's a stalemate on both fronts so far, but so far there's been nothing unexpected."
"So everyone's magic is remaining cooperative?"
She shrugs. "Magister Patriarch Feldmann says that Sylvania puts everyone on edge, so they're double-checking everything. He's at least sensible, and we've been working together to sort out proper deployments to keep everyone useful and intact. Worst of it is a hill near Egling that apparently will remain magnetized for the next three hundred years or so." You pull one of the skulls from the sack, considering it, and she waves a hand at you. "Take it. Please. I'm going to have to fund an expansion to the Siegfriedhof monitored ossuary as it is."
---
In your recently-furnished sitting room, you cast an eye over the gathered wizards. "In the past six months, I have weaponized the Hellfire of another race's Hell."
Thoughtful silence greets you. "You can do that?" Adela finally asks, intrigued.
You grin at her. "Apparently! Ask Gunnars nicely if you're curious. Now that I've set the bar, how have the rest of you kept yourselves busy? Adela, impress me."
She scowls. "Dwarves are really cagey about mechanics."
"No kidding. Did you really spend six months banging your head on that wall?"
"I've been working on getting my Flaming Sword cast time down. Shaved about a second and a half off."
"Could make all the difference. Hubert?"
He smiles. "I killed a troll."
You consider that. "...why?" He stares at you. "Okay, let me unroll that. While sorting out the trolls in Kvinn-Wyr is definitely an entry on the long-term list, there's a lot of things above it. What made you seek out a troll?"
He seems to be considering it. "My great-great grandfather killed a troll," he says finally. "I used to play with its club when I was young. I wanted to see if I could do the same."
"That's fair. How was it?"
"It was more work than I expected."
"Trolls are. When it is time to move against Kvinn-Wyr, it will probably be because we've got a whole bunch of ways to deliver fire on hand. And the rest of your time?"
He probes his side with a wince. "...healing."
"Let this be a lesson in proper prioritization and time management. Gretel, I gave the others a chance and none have managed to dethrone you. What have you been up to?"
Looking quite pleased with herself, she takes out a sack of coins and slides one across the table for you to examine. You rub a finger across the gold, then look into a face only a mother could love. "Eugh. Malekith. Where'd you find these?"
"Picking through the ruins of Clan Moulder," she says, without a hint of self-consciousness.
"That'd explain it. Anything beyond monetary wealth, which I as a Grey Wizard am immune to the allure of?"
"Just a bunch of uncooperative Skaven and their ridiculous wyrdstone money. And yes, I used gloves and turned it over to Dreng and burned the bag they were in afterwards."
"Way to extend the lead." You slide the coin back across the table at her. "Edda would give you a fair rate, but the smelters here are already working overtime on loot from the Orcs. Tell the EIC you work for me and they'll take it at full weight value, or let me know when you're headed to Barak Varr and I'll come with and make an introduction to the Royal Mint's acquisitions guy." You turn to Max, who's still sulking, and skip right to Johann, who's got one of the wolf-rat pups sitting on his shoulder and grooming his hair and another asleep in his palm. "Johann, apart from our favourite puppies, what's been happening?"
"Still stalled on the damn ra- uh, the you-know-what, but I've been working with Panoramia with the ooze we found. It can digest just about anything organic and turn it into... well, more of itself. We're feeding it to some of the cattle and they seem to like it okay, we're up to three months without ill effects at half their diet."
"That's," you pause, consider. "Possibly a really big deal." You consider further. "And might answer some questions about Skaven logistics."
"It's a matter of how far we can scale without running into deficiencies," Panoramia says. "The Halflings have agreed to scale up tests, so we'll be starting sample groups of goats and sheep on 10%, 25%, and 50%. That seems to be as much as they're willing to eat without becoming upset and uncooperative. If they're still doing okay at one year in, we'll start draft cows, milk cows and horses at Ulrikadrin. After five years, we slaughter and do full autopsies."
"I take it you've properly quarantined the test animals?"
"Of course, Magister. They're penned up in one of the valleys between the Lhune and Nar foothills."
"Good. Keep on it. Any other use of your times, when you haven't been threatening to revolutionize agriculture?"
"Apart from punching?"
"Yes." Johann shrugs, so you turn your gaze to Panoramia.
"With all the water we could need, I've set up some ponds up against Lhune for the Black Lotuses." She frowns. "Loti?"
"Lotuses," Johann says.
"Loti," Maximilian disagrees.
"Old Reikspiel root, so it pluralizes as loti," Adela says with a satisfied smile.
"Black Loti, for the Rangers. I taught the Halflings how to tend it, but the Rangers have a thing about wanting to grow it wild where they range so I taught them as well."
"Armaments for our friends, food for the livestock, riches for us, and death and mayhem to our foes. Productive few months for most, and lessons learned for the rest. Let's continue the trend for the rest of the year. Now, before you all run off to go get up to mischief, with my abode finally taking a proper shape, my library is not just theoretically available to you if it occurs to me that a specific book might be useful, it is now entirely available to you. If I'm not around, find Wolf and ask him to let you in. It's on this floor, other end of the hallway, to get into the Collegiate section Dispel the lock and replace it on your way out - you all know Dispel and Magic Lock?" Five yes, one no. Oh, Celestial College. Why must you- well, actually, that one makes sense. No need for locks with prognostication enchantments to prevent thievery. "You've got a one-month grace period where I let you in and out, Hubert. Scrolls are under Sevir, take what you need with you when you leave but return it in good condition or I'm sending a stern letter to your Master."
You'd made a little key enchanted with Dispel for Johann and gave it to him earlier. It's nowhere near strong enough to be useful, but it will get him in and out of the Magic section.
---
As your next council meeting approaches, you consider the matter of your Tower project. There's no question that what's been constructed over the past six months is a formidable weapon, but there remain limitations and imperfections that more time could perfect. You've still got another six months before even a normal success would be expected, let alone the fantastic over-achievement you've accomplished, so the time is there if you want it, but if you're convinced you'd be more useful elsewhere it might be better to report it complete and move on.
[ ] [TOWER] Complete
[ ] [TOWER] Ongoing
There's also the matter of your purchases. With the Karak reasonably secure and freshly-mined silver to begin rolling in soon, your budget has been extended, and beyond the expenses in construction it has already covered, there's also an allotment for research materials that will be just perfect for expanding your library.
Library Purchases
Budget: 300gc, 2 Dwarf Favour. Anything not spent will not accumulate.
[ ] [LIBRARY] No purchase.
[ ] [LIBRARY] Write-in.
Dwarf Favour Purchases
[ ] [DWARF] No purchase.
[ ] [DWARF] Write-in.
College Favour Purchases
[ ] [COLLEGE] No purchase.
[ ] [COLLEGE] Write-in.
Other Purchases
[ ] [PURCHASE] No purchase.
[ ] [PURCHASE] Write-in.
- If the Tower vote is to call it Complete, I'll have to have a second vote to sort out what Projects you'll put forward. In the future, this vote will be held before the social turn to prevent this problem.
- There will be a four hour moratorium. Remember to keep all your votes in one post.
- The 'research materials' budget cannot be applied to anything but books. Yes, it technically could be used for things like flasks and alembics and whatnot, but you already have those. Please don't try to find creative reinterpretations of what may or may not be considered a research material.
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- Location
- The Middle of the Howling Wilderness
I don't know about romantic chemistry, but Johann has Big Himbo Energy and that's pretty much the same thing, right?
we should also grab Shadow of Death for completion's sake.'Spell gacha' does not work like that, with a guaranteed return.
With ever-fewer spells be learned, the chances of someone teaching what we want randomly decreases.
No, the proper spells learning actions- over a few turns- are
[] Targeted learning of Invisibility
[] Master the two Fiendish spells we've partially learned
[] Targeted learning of Cloak Activity.
Once we learn that fourth additional spell, it should put us up to Magic 8, with the attendant benefit to our spellcasting.
there is no point in having one hole in our perfect spell book.
NavySeel
"I don't know what I'm doing."
- Location
- Places
I feel like we're not really close enough to Roswita to see how much chemistry there is yet, that said I have really enjoyed all of a Mathilde's interactions with her since going back to Stirland.
- Location
- yorkshire
sounds intrusting ill look at
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I'm leaning towards Learning Invisibility, a Vitae research action, and making the Queekish lexicon, tentatively with Deceiver help. The final one being to further improve the tower for work at night.
At least some time ago we were actually guaranteed at least one new spell every gacha by a WOG.Spell gacha' does not work like that, with a guaranteed return.