chocolote12
A Penguin Flailing Against The Keyboard Of Life.
So, a Dwarf?
Warhammer Fantasy: Divided Loyalties - an Advisor's Quest
- Thread starter Boney
- Start date
- Fantasy Users' Choice!
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- Tags
- warhammer warhammer fantasy fantasy be gay do crimes (gay) female protagonist pansexual protagonist ck2 quest divided loyalties mountain vietnam ranald is real this is a dwarf quest (dwarfs) this is maybe an elf quest this is not a vampire quest this is not an empire quest try it and find out open voting
Voted best in category in the Users' Choice awards.
@BoneyM
Examples of internalized lessons:
Dhar makes you stupid: everything dhar touched this campaign turned to ash and rubble. It's something we should have known already, but it never hurts to have important lessons reinforced.
We are best when we work with others: going off and doing our own thing was mostly a frustrating slog or horrifying failure (Van Hal, Hexensohn, and that fucking paper) but when we were able to work with others, Whether it was Kasmir with the singer-king or the dwarfs at the castle the more we let others help us and worked with them the better we did.
Examples of damage:
Battle Magic is inherently unreliable: again something we should have known already but the biggest thing that magic achieved in Sylvinia (on either side) was a counter spell, while it was absolutely essential to the Singer-King.
Healers Healers everywhere and none of them did anything useful: Healing is a crapshoot, a roll of the dice (literally) and while it is good to get as many chances as possible they are only chances.
Examples of internalized lessons:
Dhar makes you stupid: everything dhar touched this campaign turned to ash and rubble. It's something we should have known already, but it never hurts to have important lessons reinforced.
We are best when we work with others: going off and doing our own thing was mostly a frustrating slog or horrifying failure (Van Hal, Hexensohn, and that fucking paper) but when we were able to work with others, Whether it was Kasmir with the singer-king or the dwarfs at the castle the more we let others help us and worked with them the better we did.
Examples of damage:
Battle Magic is inherently unreliable: again something we should have known already but the biggest thing that magic achieved in Sylvinia (on either side) was a counter spell, while it was absolutely essential to the Singer-King.
Healers Healers everywhere and none of them did anything useful: Healing is a crapshoot, a roll of the dice (literally) and while it is good to get as many chances as possible they are only chances.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I feel like these traumas are a little too focused. The first would fit better as a generalized lack of faith in magic, and the latter as more of a fatalistic belief that death is random and can't really be protected against. Plus, both of them are traumas that are easy to avoid, while all the example traumas involve either the protag, a situation that can't be avoided, or a major institution of the empire.
- Location
- Outside the Box
- Pronouns
- She/Her
I'm not against having Dhar options occasionally, but in this case it seems entierly unfitting. If anything, Mathilde should take the opposite lesson: "The power of Dhar is great, but Necromancers tend to have brains as rotten as the corpses they raise."
Best lesson we learned was that if you see something evil and magicy then you should hit it with rocks and cannonballs until it stops being so evil and magicy. It works for necromancers, vampires, skeletons, castles and even evil mountains.
Need to counterspell? Shoot it.
Evil artifact? Shoot it.
Evil topography? Shoot it.
Really the only exception is when fighting ghosts, in which case you find an enchanted weapon then shoot it.
I mentioned this before but I didn't mention how generally useful hitting things was.
Also new ideas for damage
Kasmir: how does he suck so much?
Light wizards: somehow even worse than previously expected?
mysterious evil artifacts under evil towns that disable our wizards at crucial times: shoot them?
Need to counterspell? Shoot it.
Evil artifact? Shoot it.
Evil topography? Shoot it.
Really the only exception is when fighting ghosts, in which case you find an enchanted weapon then shoot it.
I mentioned this before but I didn't mention how generally useful hitting things was.
Also new ideas for damage
Kasmir: how does he suck so much?
Light wizards: somehow even worse than previously expected?
mysterious evil artifacts under evil towns that disable our wizards at crucial times: shoot them?
- Location
- Norway
OTOH, they had centuries to prepare and accumulate minions, so in a way they're like rich heirs using a family fortune that they inherited from themselves. It's an awesome power, but taking centuries to accumulate awesome power that's all defeated at once is a bit less impressive on a yearly basis.
- Location
- Aotearoa
That would be Vampire Wars v1 through v3, and Mathilde was resolved that there will never be a v4. (In destroying the castle).
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The Ride of The Dreamer (Part 2)
- Location
- Estonia
Well then. Have the second part of the Omake. New and Interesting sins against Men and Gods Ho!
---
Omake - The Rise of The Dreamer (Part 2)
Á̸҉b̵̶̧̕͝e҉͟ļ͡ḩ̛e̴͡͏҉̕l̨̛̛m̷̸̛͟ M̧a͝t̨hi̕l͠d̵͢e͜ ͟͢V̨͏̸a͜҉̢͝n̷̸ ̸̢́̕͟H̸̡͟҉a̵͏͏l̴̀͢͝͝ ͏̛We̷͝b̀e̕r̴
2480IC
Five years, it took. Five years of working at feverish pace in the ruins of Drakenhof. But your duty to Á̸҉b̵̶̧̕͝e҉͟ļ͡ḩ̛e̴͡͏҉̕l̨̛̛m̷̸̛͟ is complete, now. The book you used so extensively for reference is in the hands of his son, as it should be. But the research and study of that dark tome has born fruit. Three tomes of your own making: the first relatively bening (a timid pursuit of the truth in shadows); the second dangerous to the unprepared (the work to accomplish your dreams); the third your preparations for a last resort (your nightmare made material). But now you are ready to finally deal with Sylvania once and for all. Á̸҉b̵̶̧̕͝e҉͟ļ͡ḩ̛e̴͡͏҉̕l̨̛̛m̷̸̛͟ is finally ready to return in earnest.
Not the intricate illusion you draped yourself in, but a true return. The "illusion", feeding on the images of Á̸҉b̵̶̧̕͝e҉͟ļ͡ḩ̛e̴͡͏҉̕l̨̛̛m̷̸̛͟ that Gustav, Kasmir, Wilhelmina and His son Sigmund held in their memory to reinforce itself, have discreetly given you the missing pieces you needed. Merging those memories with your own, you finally have enough to weave Him together from naught but Ulgu, with the barest sliver of Dhar to make the shadow permanent and independent of thought. You tremble as you make final checks and preparations, unsure whether from anticipation or nervousness. Years have passed, but you have found the place well enough (after all, you've lost count how many times you've come here to vent your frustration and grief). Drakenhof town, the very street just inside the gates, where Abelhelm's life was cut short, is where Á̸҉b̵̶̧̕͝e҉͟ļ͡ḩ̛e̴͡͏҉̕l̨̛̛m̷̸̛͟ will emerge restored. The city remains largely empty; though a few desperate souls still dwell in the collapses houses and intact sewer warrens, most of the city remains in ruin and the Vampires and Necromancers of Castle Drakenhof have yet to expend the organized effort to resettle the town. An hour before sunrise, you begin casting. Just after an hour later, the receding shadow of the sun leaves behind a man-shaped form into which you pour Ulgu (and Dhar), and not long after the figure is wholly solid. A memory, and a dream, made reality. The spell has succeeded. The greatest Champion of Stirland exists again. Despite yourexhaustion, you are quick to embrace the man.
An armored gauntlet softly pats your head and looking up, you see his face, nearly stern, but with warmth in his eyes and his lips curving just the slightest bit upward.
"Well then, Dame Weber." A͘b̕e͠l̢h͞e̡lm̴ begins "Shall we go and finish the job?"
---
Regimand Speiseschrank
2481IC
With the alarming news from Stirland's spymaster, Regimand had wasted little time calling in a great many of his favors to gather an appropriate response. Himself, and three other Magisters of the Gray Order went with him to Stirland (even the Patriarch might have joined, if not for an Imperial demand for his presence overriding yours). Eight witch hunters with their personal retinues, as well as two full knightly orders (Sigmar's Blood and Fiery Heart), went in beside them, outside his own calling. Some months were wasted, scouring Stirland for Weber, until the process of elimination concluded she was likely in Sylvania.
The witch hunters went in first, being the best suited to find and investigate. And one by one, fell completely out of touch with the rest of the effort to find Weber. Then, one of those Witch Hunters returned, alone, with dire news and shaken to her core. Alfhild Raftwald spoke of the madness she discovered.
According to her, Drakenhof was... changed. The witch hunters had sent agents there before. She had read the reports. Of a populace terrified, barely above starvation, and chained by shackles of despair stronger than any iron could hope to be; under the thrall of the Vampires' dark powers and unable to muster the will to do much of anything but silently support their dread overlords with their labor and obedience. Instead, she had discovered a town of hope, rebuilding. Its' citizens well-fed and stocky, if few in number. Instead of being met with suspicious glances or terrified scurring into building, they were welcomed. Though it was quite disturbing to see everyone, every sincle person they spoke to, assume that the witch hunters were there to aid "Count V̧a͟n͏ ̨H̕a͠l̶̨̀" against the undead in the surrounding countryside. She recalled a section of town adjacent to the wall had been demolished entirely, and a fortified town keep being under construction in the open space, creating an incropping from the exterior wall. It seemed as if a rather thick and tall tower was going to serve as the inner sanctum of the keep.
Not long after she claims to have encountered A͘b̕e͠l̢h͞e̡lm̴ V̧a͟n͏ ̨H̕a͠l̶̨̀ himself! Or rather, Raftwald quickly corrected herself, some monstrosity wearing his skin with a shockingly convincing visage. Weber was with V̧a͟n͏ ̨H̕a͠l̶̨̀, no doubt responsible for the abomination. Then things took a turn for the worse: as the sunset confrontation in the streets of Drakenhof was developing, Weber's "allies" emerged from the buildings, surrounding Raftwald and her retinue. The other witch hunters, and their retinues, alive and well, and seemingly having sworn themselves to the "noble cause" of cleansing Sylvania from undead, and demanding Raftwald do the same.
She rejected him and the whole abominable situation. Weapons clashed, but the abominations were clearly just cautiously buying time for Weber to cast her vile magics; no wounds were inflicted on them, but neither did the six of them have success inflicting solid blows on the abominations. As shadows fell, The opposing "witch hunters" withdrew to the buildings and V̧a͟n͏ ̨H̕a͠l̶̨̀ returned to Weber's immediate side, as six new figures rose from the shadowed ground: one each for Raftwald's retinue.
Raftwald begins to shake, as she recalls in detail what happened next.
---
The figures were our own. Like looking into a mirror... except not quite. In places there were imperfections, glimpses of shadow. But more importantly, our shadows were different from our true selves. More than we ourselves were. Like looking into a mirror and imagining what you want to see.
Our weapons were at the ready, but the fighting had paused. My... reflection spoke to me. It tried to convince be to join V̧a͟n͏ ̨H̕a͠l̶̨̀'s cause. It made a persuasive argument. Just barely, I found the strength to refuse. By this point, I barely had attention for the other reflections. When I refused, she... it denounced me. I was "judged and found wanting"; the whole formal declaration, you know. It asked if I thought... Doesn't matter. I didn't even have a chance to respond when sh-IT said that perhaps, it's for the best. That I wouldn't have the strength to support V̧a͟n͏ ̨H̕a͠l̶̨̀'s dream... but she-IT would. That it would be best if I just let her take my place.
"Please, Miss Raftwald. What did it ask you? I assure you, every little detail matters."
She asked me if Sylphie would be proud of me. Because there I was, a Witch Hunter, trying to put an end to the only force in the Empire that's actually working to wipe out the undead menace of Sylvania.
Sylphie is... was my older sister. Died when I was a child. The reason I... I even became a witch hunter in the first place. So there would be more reasonable individuals in the ranks, not maniacs burning everyone that a terrified peasant points a finger at.
"So... the reflection actually knew details about yourself that Weber couldn't... couldn't possibly know? Remar... Hm. Do continue, Miss Raftwald."
Fighting broke out, then. I snapped out of my daze just in time to clash maces. We... we were outmatched. Fighting stronger versions of ourselves. By the time we had a brief lull in the fight and I could glance around, there were only four of us left. Karken and Mossfeuer were... standing at Van Hal's side. Didn't even notice when their true selves went down. It... it's possible they didn't. They could've given in to words alone, as I said, I barely had attention to anyone but my own reflection for a while.
As the fight resumed, Wolfgang was out of position, and got overwhelmed by his reflection. His reflection stunned him, dazed him for for seconds, the reflection slowly grabbed his throat and the fell apart into a cloud of black fog that then went inside of him, through his mouth and nose. Maybe eyes and ears too. Didn't have too much time to stare at the process.
Galmar managed to land a solid blow on his reflection; right on the neck. It fell and started bleeding out into wisps of shadow. Not a moment too soon, because I had been disarmed and was about to get my own throat grabbed by my reflection when Galmar tackled her. The two of them left held the reflections off and yelled at me to flee. Galmar's own reflection had reformed, so it was three against two for them. Can-can't imagine they lasted long. Then I got to my horse outside the gates, and rode without stopping back to the border bridge.
---
We were on the cusp of victory. The battle had been arduous, despite the foe consisting "only" of Weber herself and no more than some 300 fighters; the Witch Hunters, as well as a number of patrols and skirmishers that she had "turned" over the weeks it took us to prepare for a march on Drakenhof. The "Dream Shades", as we had decided to name them, proved fully able to physically wound foes, despite all known Ulgu illusions being incapable of such. They weren't even limited to the core characteristic of the scant few examples of Ulgu-entities ("regular" shades) on record: the ability to reform and regenerate from any physical disruption of their form; in the case of dream shades, mundane damage failed to keep them down for any longer than a frighteningly short period of five minutes (and even that long was only from total destruction by direct cannon hit). No, dream shades were even capable of... terrifyingly quickly reforming from magical harm: ten to thirty minutes from brute-force magical destruction, depending on the degree of annihilation. Slightly over an hour to recover from generic dispellation aimed at the spellwork holding them together. To permanently destroy one, required a "live" capture and restraint, followed by a careful analysis of the individual shade, and a tailored disjunction of its' binding.
This process in the field of battle was not helped by the fact that Weber herself had taken to the field, and was summoning new dream shades in the images of the soldiers in the field.
Finally, after five days of constant skirmish on the streets of Drakenhof, and failed attempts to pin down that tiny but undying enemy force in close quarters, we have cornered Weber and her six remaining dream shades; including V̧a͟n͏ ̨H̕a͠l̶̨̀'s shade, whom we have determined is of a different type. Him we have captured twice now, once on the plains outside Drakenhof, and again on the first day of fighting within Drakenhof. For reasons unknown to us, even tailored disjunction has failed to keep him down for longer than a couple of days, though he has been altered by each disjunction, such that a new analysis had to be performed. No doubt, given their personal connection, Weber has done something to make his shade more persistent.
Weber was cornered. Her shades fading and losing ground. I saw her face several times during that final battle. She was unhinged to begin with, but I caught it. The moment when Count Sigmund bypassed the shade of his father and went for her directly. I caught the moment where she cracked utterly, seeing the blade come at her without doing anything to stop it. As the blade pierced her chest, a battle tome among her combat gear exploded with shadow and force, knocking away the Count before opening its' pages and the gates of madness. In the Winds, a vortex of power emerged as Dhar and Ulgu coiled around Weber and spilled into the sky as an invisible pillar right before my senses. The whole of the army was swarmed by a host of nightmares. Though I glimpsed at figures of madness from the corners of my eyes, from Orcs to Vampires to Daemons, I remained unbothered by all figues besides my apprentices: all of them suddenly around me, save for Weber herself. Back and forth the solid illusions switched places whichever way I looked: altering between states of death or undeath or corrption-by-Dhar and other unimaginably evil mockery whenever my eyes flicked around. What I feared they could become if I failed to prepare them accordingly... It was at that moment where I understood the nature of Weber's breakthrough and genius. Where the dream shades created an idealized image of ourselves, and twisted it just a fraction to serve Weber's crusade against the Undead, this hurricane pulled Ulgu through every mind in its' area and through Dhar made those nightmares into reality. Real enough to tear mail and flesh and mind alike. The army shattered into retreat in less than twenty minutes.
One of the Magisters I saw perished in the nightmare, two already before during the skirmish, the last, descended into the catacombs beneath the building, laughing and howling, his mind shattered by what he saw. I was all that was left, and I stood alone before my former apprentice and the shade at her side. Her mortal chest wound, and even the damage to her robes, gone as if they had never been there.
"̸̻̖̙̯͗̌̋ͧͯ̌͐ͥͅͅI͖͚͈ͦ̊͜͠ ̶̛̩͉͙̱̘̦̑̍͗͛ͭ̍ͬa̛͒ͥͭͤ̏̋͏͙̠̙̮͠m̡͎͎͕̱̫̰̣̠̾ͭͫ͟ ̼̬̗͖̊ͮ͆̑ͣͫ͝t̸̨̙̟͔̮̜̠̹̤̑ͬ͛͑̚ͅḫ̶͈̽ͫ̀̀ę̖̲͈̞̰̦̦͓͐̅̾ͧ̚͝ ̷̻̽́͛̿́͠͠D̷̴̳̗̱̔̾͝r̳̒̃̋͌̀̀ę̰̹̬̪̹̊̆ͯ̾ͣ̉͂͊͠a̵̗͇̻ͤͮ̑͠m̵̡͓̳̮̗͓͕̙͊̑̈̊ͭ́ͪͭ ̼̘̫̅̓͒ͯͯ̐ͦ̆͜͡a̶̹̤̣̹̲̤̮̟̺͒̒ͫ͑̏̓ṋ̜̹̎͛̏̀d̙̦͐̒ͥ͗̏̕͞ͅ ̐̓̀͊͑̚҉̀͏̻͖͓t̝̝͊͋̒̏́h̐̓͑̓̅͗̆҉̡͉ě̟͍̈́̑͂ͭ͝ ͫ̆͑̍ͭ҉͏̼̱D̸̳̱͙̣͈̃̈͆ͣ̄ͩ̋r̩̹̺̘͖͈̦̼̞ͯ̉̔̈́͌͡e̴͈̞͍͇̟̼ͤ̚͞ả̲̟̲͚̌̿ͬ̚̚͝m̓̿ͩ̉͐̐͋́҉̼̝̜ ͛̅ͥ͜͏͓͔̤̳̺͢i̷̡̘̞̮͍͋͆ͩ̏̀ͣ͂s̢̢͕͙͈̤̩͍̺̅ͅ ̯̫̞ͪIͪ̈́̏́ͥ͊̉ͬ́҉͇̙̺͚̼͓̠͙.̨̜̯̫͖̭̯͎́ͯ̀͊̇"̣̼͔̈͗͒
---
Magical Threats to the Empire (2500IC; Restricted Magister Edition)
...
Sylvania and The Dreamer
Since the Battle of Drakenhof(2481IC) (also known as the Battle of Dreamshades), Sylvania has become one of the most dangerous and unforbidding territories of the world, surpassed with certainty only by the northern Chaos Wastes. Belonging to the entity known as The Dreamer, those passing into Sylvania rarely return, and the minds of those who do are greatly changed by it. Though once famous for its infestation of undead that often spilled over into Stirland, the Dhar-corrupted Shyish winds of the land have since faded. Instead, they have been replaced by Dhar-corrupted winds of Ulgu, resulting in a realm of shadow and madness, where dreams of the hopeful come true and make them reluctant to leave, while the fears of the frightful swiftly transform into reality and consume them.
The creator of this realm, The Dreamer, is an entity of great power whose exact abilities, at this point, are possibly beyond enumeration, given the wide variety of reliable, but conflicting reports on the matter. Some Magisters have hypothesized that The Dreamer gains and loses abilities based on what her individuals in her immediate vicinity believe them to have, though this hypothesis remains unconfirmed. Nonetheless, it has been confirmed within reason that regardless of their opponents' beliefs, The Dreamer is an Ulgu mage of Battle Wizard caliber, as well as having the ability to create Dream Shades. Almost always, The Dreamer is accompanied by their first shade: the Shade of E̸l̷ect͞ór͡ ̶C͡ount Ab̀ȩlhe̢l̡m ̴V͟an ҉H͝a͡l, once a witch hunter and a fearsome warrior especially in that state of aberration.
Besides The Dreamer themselves, Dream Shades are the most immediately dangerous of Sylvania's denizens, coming in three varieties: Greater, Corrupted and Lesser. All three varieties are sometimes referred to as Dopplegängers by the common folk of the Empire. All variations of Dream Shade are exceedingly difficult to destroy permanently: to do so requires careful analysis of the Shade's magical existence, followed by a disjunction tailored for the specific shade. To study and disjunct a shade that has yet to replace their original is a fairly straightforward (if time-consuming) task made complex only by the Shade's attempts to break free during the process; given time, even Apprentice-level Grey Wizards ought to be able to succeed at the disjunction. However a shade that has succeeded in the replacement is far more difficult, and a permanent disjunction is a Magister-level task, likely beyond all but the most talented of Journeymen. Fortunately, to restrain the shades of humans is fairly straightforward once they are captured: Dream Shades of all varieties lack the ability to become intangible at will, and can only do so in reaction to direct physical or magical damage to their form. The only exception to this is the Shades of wizards, which possessed such an ability before becoming shades.
Greater Dream Shades take the form of a living individual as they dream to be, and will likely attempt to convince a willing merger, where the true person is subsumed under the idealized strength and willpower of the Shade, though failure to persuade results in an attempt to force the merger. Greater Dream Shades are created personally by The Dreamer.
Corrupted Dream Shades take the form of a living individual, corrupted to evil and madness; should the individual in question possess such a fear. Shaped by the beliefs of the true individual, they may or may not outmatch the original. Unlike Greater Dream Shades, they will usually attempt to kill the true individual, rather than dominate them, though Corrupted Shades with an obsession of domination are not unheard of. Corrupted Dream Shades can be created by The Dreamer, as well as by the Shades of Gray Wizards.
Lesser Dream Shades tend to take an imperfect and transparent mockery of the true individual. Some stronger examples of Lesser Dream Shades occasionally manage to take a more perfect form that can pass for the original person in a state of weakness or brokenness. While they rarely confront the individual they are formed of directly, as Greater and Corrupted variations do, the Lesser variation pursues a different strategy of replacing the original: they stalk their original until an opportunity presents itself to slay or subsume the original (most commonly, when the original falls asleep alone, ideally in the isolated wilderness). While not as dreadful to face as the Greater and Corrupted variants once discovered, the Lesser variant is threatening in its' own way, as they are capable of shifting into existence without a summoner anywhere in Sylvania, simply from the presence of a true individual. It is also hypothesized among Magisters of the Gray Order that the "peaceful and optimistic" residents of Sylvania, reported by the handful of people to return from the lands alive, are Lesser Dream Shades that have replaced the original population. Or particular threat, are Lesser Shades of Grey Wizards which stalk their true self out of Sylvania, and may begin summoning Corrupted Shades outside its' borders if they succeed in replacing their original.
...
---
A Magister's Index of Forbidden Lore (2512 IC; Restricted Edition)
...
The Three Tomes of Weber
The Three Tomes of Weber are a collection of books second in infamy only to the Books of Nagash (indeed, surpassing even the Liber Mortis at the time of this writing), and a harsh reminder to Mages of the Empire than not all great works of darkness and madness are something from ages long past. Written between 2475 and 2480 by the individual now referred to only as The Dreamer. Though the author's name and identity are known in Imperial and College record, it is hypothesized that people accurately remembering The Dreamer feeds The Dreamer's power, thus the true name and identity have been stricken from all but the most restricted secret records. The tomes, and the underlying research, was carried out when The Dreamer possessed the Liber Mortis, and is considered the definitive study of Umbramancy: the art of corrupting spells of Ulgu with Dhar. The three tomes making up the collection are: Liber Umbra Infinum, Liber Somnum Aeterna and Liber Verum Terros; or in Reikspiel: The Book of Infinite Shadow, The Book of Eternal Dreams and The Book of True Nightmares.
Liber Umbra Infinum is the most benign of the three, primarily dealing with theoretical analysis of Ulgu and laying the groundwork for the latter two books. After thorough review by the appropriate authorities, a version censoring some 1/5th of the book was approved for use by Magisters and Journeymen (with a Magister's letter of approval) of the College. A copy of the uncensored book is held in the vaults of the Gray Order, the justified study of which is occasionally permitted to select Magisters on the mutual approval of the Patriarch of the Gray Order and the Grand Theogonist.
Liber Somnum Aeterna is believed to be the tome containing the secret to creating Dream Shades. Any copies discovered and identified are to be retrieved and turned over to the Gray College without further study, or reported to the same if retrieval is impossible. A copy is held in unspecified Imperial vaults, to be studied in only the direst of emergency by the Grand Theogonist or the Patriarch of the Gray Order.
The contents of Liber Verum Terros are a matter of utmost secrecy. If you are required to know, the Patriarch of the Order will inform you of it in confidence. Any suspected copies are to be destroyed immediately, without further attempts at identification.
...
---
Omake - The Rise of The Dreamer (Part 2)
Á̸҉b̵̶̧̕͝e҉͟ļ͡ḩ̛e̴͡͏҉̕l̨̛̛m̷̸̛͟ M̧a͝t̨hi̕l͠d̵͢e͜ ͟͢V̨͏̸a͜҉̢͝n̷̸ ̸̢́̕͟H̸̡͟҉a̵͏͏l̴̀͢͝͝ ͏̛We̷͝b̀e̕r̴
2480IC
Five years, it took. Five years of working at feverish pace in the ruins of Drakenhof. But your duty to Á̸҉b̵̶̧̕͝e҉͟ļ͡ḩ̛e̴͡͏҉̕l̨̛̛m̷̸̛͟ is complete, now. The book you used so extensively for reference is in the hands of his son, as it should be. But the research and study of that dark tome has born fruit. Three tomes of your own making: the first relatively bening (a timid pursuit of the truth in shadows); the second dangerous to the unprepared (the work to accomplish your dreams); the third your preparations for a last resort (your nightmare made material). But now you are ready to finally deal with Sylvania once and for all. Á̸҉b̵̶̧̕͝e҉͟ļ͡ḩ̛e̴͡͏҉̕l̨̛̛m̷̸̛͟ is finally ready to return in earnest.
Not the intricate illusion you draped yourself in, but a true return. The "illusion", feeding on the images of Á̸҉b̵̶̧̕͝e҉͟ļ͡ḩ̛e̴͡͏҉̕l̨̛̛m̷̸̛͟ that Gustav, Kasmir, Wilhelmina and His son Sigmund held in their memory to reinforce itself, have discreetly given you the missing pieces you needed. Merging those memories with your own, you finally have enough to weave Him together from naught but Ulgu, with the barest sliver of Dhar to make the shadow permanent and independent of thought. You tremble as you make final checks and preparations, unsure whether from anticipation or nervousness. Years have passed, but you have found the place well enough (after all, you've lost count how many times you've come here to vent your frustration and grief). Drakenhof town, the very street just inside the gates, where Abelhelm's life was cut short, is where Á̸҉b̵̶̧̕͝e҉͟ļ͡ḩ̛e̴͡͏҉̕l̨̛̛m̷̸̛͟ will emerge restored. The city remains largely empty; though a few desperate souls still dwell in the collapses houses and intact sewer warrens, most of the city remains in ruin and the Vampires and Necromancers of Castle Drakenhof have yet to expend the organized effort to resettle the town. An hour before sunrise, you begin casting. Just after an hour later, the receding shadow of the sun leaves behind a man-shaped form into which you pour Ulgu (and Dhar), and not long after the figure is wholly solid. A memory, and a dream, made reality. The spell has succeeded. The greatest Champion of Stirland exists again. Despite yourexhaustion, you are quick to embrace the man.
An armored gauntlet softly pats your head and looking up, you see his face, nearly stern, but with warmth in his eyes and his lips curving just the slightest bit upward.
"Well then, Dame Weber." A͘b̕e͠l̢h͞e̡lm̴ begins "Shall we go and finish the job?"
---
Regimand Speiseschrank
2481IC
With the alarming news from Stirland's spymaster, Regimand had wasted little time calling in a great many of his favors to gather an appropriate response. Himself, and three other Magisters of the Gray Order went with him to Stirland (even the Patriarch might have joined, if not for an Imperial demand for his presence overriding yours). Eight witch hunters with their personal retinues, as well as two full knightly orders (Sigmar's Blood and Fiery Heart), went in beside them, outside his own calling. Some months were wasted, scouring Stirland for Weber, until the process of elimination concluded she was likely in Sylvania.
The witch hunters went in first, being the best suited to find and investigate. And one by one, fell completely out of touch with the rest of the effort to find Weber. Then, one of those Witch Hunters returned, alone, with dire news and shaken to her core. Alfhild Raftwald spoke of the madness she discovered.
According to her, Drakenhof was... changed. The witch hunters had sent agents there before. She had read the reports. Of a populace terrified, barely above starvation, and chained by shackles of despair stronger than any iron could hope to be; under the thrall of the Vampires' dark powers and unable to muster the will to do much of anything but silently support their dread overlords with their labor and obedience. Instead, she had discovered a town of hope, rebuilding. Its' citizens well-fed and stocky, if few in number. Instead of being met with suspicious glances or terrified scurring into building, they were welcomed. Though it was quite disturbing to see everyone, every sincle person they spoke to, assume that the witch hunters were there to aid "Count V̧a͟n͏ ̨H̕a͠l̶̨̀" against the undead in the surrounding countryside. She recalled a section of town adjacent to the wall had been demolished entirely, and a fortified town keep being under construction in the open space, creating an incropping from the exterior wall. It seemed as if a rather thick and tall tower was going to serve as the inner sanctum of the keep.
Not long after she claims to have encountered A͘b̕e͠l̢h͞e̡lm̴ V̧a͟n͏ ̨H̕a͠l̶̨̀ himself! Or rather, Raftwald quickly corrected herself, some monstrosity wearing his skin with a shockingly convincing visage. Weber was with V̧a͟n͏ ̨H̕a͠l̶̨̀, no doubt responsible for the abomination. Then things took a turn for the worse: as the sunset confrontation in the streets of Drakenhof was developing, Weber's "allies" emerged from the buildings, surrounding Raftwald and her retinue. The other witch hunters, and their retinues, alive and well, and seemingly having sworn themselves to the "noble cause" of cleansing Sylvania from undead, and demanding Raftwald do the same.
She rejected him and the whole abominable situation. Weapons clashed, but the abominations were clearly just cautiously buying time for Weber to cast her vile magics; no wounds were inflicted on them, but neither did the six of them have success inflicting solid blows on the abominations. As shadows fell, The opposing "witch hunters" withdrew to the buildings and V̧a͟n͏ ̨H̕a͠l̶̨̀ returned to Weber's immediate side, as six new figures rose from the shadowed ground: one each for Raftwald's retinue.
Raftwald begins to shake, as she recalls in detail what happened next.
---
The figures were our own. Like looking into a mirror... except not quite. In places there were imperfections, glimpses of shadow. But more importantly, our shadows were different from our true selves. More than we ourselves were. Like looking into a mirror and imagining what you want to see.
Our weapons were at the ready, but the fighting had paused. My... reflection spoke to me. It tried to convince be to join V̧a͟n͏ ̨H̕a͠l̶̨̀'s cause. It made a persuasive argument. Just barely, I found the strength to refuse. By this point, I barely had attention for the other reflections. When I refused, she... it denounced me. I was "judged and found wanting"; the whole formal declaration, you know. It asked if I thought... Doesn't matter. I didn't even have a chance to respond when sh-IT said that perhaps, it's for the best. That I wouldn't have the strength to support V̧a͟n͏ ̨H̕a͠l̶̨̀'s dream... but she-IT would. That it would be best if I just let her take my place.
"Please, Miss Raftwald. What did it ask you? I assure you, every little detail matters."
She asked me if Sylphie would be proud of me. Because there I was, a Witch Hunter, trying to put an end to the only force in the Empire that's actually working to wipe out the undead menace of Sylvania.
Sylphie is... was my older sister. Died when I was a child. The reason I... I even became a witch hunter in the first place. So there would be more reasonable individuals in the ranks, not maniacs burning everyone that a terrified peasant points a finger at.
"So... the reflection actually knew details about yourself that Weber couldn't... couldn't possibly know? Remar... Hm. Do continue, Miss Raftwald."
Fighting broke out, then. I snapped out of my daze just in time to clash maces. We... we were outmatched. Fighting stronger versions of ourselves. By the time we had a brief lull in the fight and I could glance around, there were only four of us left. Karken and Mossfeuer were... standing at Van Hal's side. Didn't even notice when their true selves went down. It... it's possible they didn't. They could've given in to words alone, as I said, I barely had attention to anyone but my own reflection for a while.
As the fight resumed, Wolfgang was out of position, and got overwhelmed by his reflection. His reflection stunned him, dazed him for for seconds, the reflection slowly grabbed his throat and the fell apart into a cloud of black fog that then went inside of him, through his mouth and nose. Maybe eyes and ears too. Didn't have too much time to stare at the process.
Galmar managed to land a solid blow on his reflection; right on the neck. It fell and started bleeding out into wisps of shadow. Not a moment too soon, because I had been disarmed and was about to get my own throat grabbed by my reflection when Galmar tackled her. The two of them left held the reflections off and yelled at me to flee. Galmar's own reflection had reformed, so it was three against two for them. Can-can't imagine they lasted long. Then I got to my horse outside the gates, and rode without stopping back to the border bridge.
---
We were on the cusp of victory. The battle had been arduous, despite the foe consisting "only" of Weber herself and no more than some 300 fighters; the Witch Hunters, as well as a number of patrols and skirmishers that she had "turned" over the weeks it took us to prepare for a march on Drakenhof. The "Dream Shades", as we had decided to name them, proved fully able to physically wound foes, despite all known Ulgu illusions being incapable of such. They weren't even limited to the core characteristic of the scant few examples of Ulgu-entities ("regular" shades) on record: the ability to reform and regenerate from any physical disruption of their form; in the case of dream shades, mundane damage failed to keep them down for any longer than a frighteningly short period of five minutes (and even that long was only from total destruction by direct cannon hit). No, dream shades were even capable of... terrifyingly quickly reforming from magical harm: ten to thirty minutes from brute-force magical destruction, depending on the degree of annihilation. Slightly over an hour to recover from generic dispellation aimed at the spellwork holding them together. To permanently destroy one, required a "live" capture and restraint, followed by a careful analysis of the individual shade, and a tailored disjunction of its' binding.
This process in the field of battle was not helped by the fact that Weber herself had taken to the field, and was summoning new dream shades in the images of the soldiers in the field.
Finally, after five days of constant skirmish on the streets of Drakenhof, and failed attempts to pin down that tiny but undying enemy force in close quarters, we have cornered Weber and her six remaining dream shades; including V̧a͟n͏ ̨H̕a͠l̶̨̀'s shade, whom we have determined is of a different type. Him we have captured twice now, once on the plains outside Drakenhof, and again on the first day of fighting within Drakenhof. For reasons unknown to us, even tailored disjunction has failed to keep him down for longer than a couple of days, though he has been altered by each disjunction, such that a new analysis had to be performed. No doubt, given their personal connection, Weber has done something to make his shade more persistent.
Weber was cornered. Her shades fading and losing ground. I saw her face several times during that final battle. She was unhinged to begin with, but I caught it. The moment when Count Sigmund bypassed the shade of his father and went for her directly. I caught the moment where she cracked utterly, seeing the blade come at her without doing anything to stop it. As the blade pierced her chest, a battle tome among her combat gear exploded with shadow and force, knocking away the Count before opening its' pages and the gates of madness. In the Winds, a vortex of power emerged as Dhar and Ulgu coiled around Weber and spilled into the sky as an invisible pillar right before my senses. The whole of the army was swarmed by a host of nightmares. Though I glimpsed at figures of madness from the corners of my eyes, from Orcs to Vampires to Daemons, I remained unbothered by all figues besides my apprentices: all of them suddenly around me, save for Weber herself. Back and forth the solid illusions switched places whichever way I looked: altering between states of death or undeath or corrption-by-Dhar and other unimaginably evil mockery whenever my eyes flicked around. What I feared they could become if I failed to prepare them accordingly... It was at that moment where I understood the nature of Weber's breakthrough and genius. Where the dream shades created an idealized image of ourselves, and twisted it just a fraction to serve Weber's crusade against the Undead, this hurricane pulled Ulgu through every mind in its' area and through Dhar made those nightmares into reality. Real enough to tear mail and flesh and mind alike. The army shattered into retreat in less than twenty minutes.
One of the Magisters I saw perished in the nightmare, two already before during the skirmish, the last, descended into the catacombs beneath the building, laughing and howling, his mind shattered by what he saw. I was all that was left, and I stood alone before my former apprentice and the shade at her side. Her mortal chest wound, and even the damage to her robes, gone as if they had never been there.
"̸̻̖̙̯͗̌̋ͧͯ̌͐ͥͅͅI͖͚͈ͦ̊͜͠ ̶̛̩͉͙̱̘̦̑̍͗͛ͭ̍ͬa̛͒ͥͭͤ̏̋͏͙̠̙̮͠m̡͎͎͕̱̫̰̣̠̾ͭͫ͟ ̼̬̗͖̊ͮ͆̑ͣͫ͝t̸̨̙̟͔̮̜̠̹̤̑ͬ͛͑̚ͅḫ̶͈̽ͫ̀̀ę̖̲͈̞̰̦̦͓͐̅̾ͧ̚͝ ̷̻̽́͛̿́͠͠D̷̴̳̗̱̔̾͝r̳̒̃̋͌̀̀ę̰̹̬̪̹̊̆ͯ̾ͣ̉͂͊͠a̵̗͇̻ͤͮ̑͠m̵̡͓̳̮̗͓͕̙͊̑̈̊ͭ́ͪͭ ̼̘̫̅̓͒ͯͯ̐ͦ̆͜͡a̶̹̤̣̹̲̤̮̟̺͒̒ͫ͑̏̓ṋ̜̹̎͛̏̀d̙̦͐̒ͥ͗̏̕͞ͅ ̐̓̀͊͑̚҉̀͏̻͖͓t̝̝͊͋̒̏́h̐̓͑̓̅͗̆҉̡͉ě̟͍̈́̑͂ͭ͝ ͫ̆͑̍ͭ҉͏̼̱D̸̳̱͙̣͈̃̈͆ͣ̄ͩ̋r̩̹̺̘͖͈̦̼̞ͯ̉̔̈́͌͡e̴͈̞͍͇̟̼ͤ̚͞ả̲̟̲͚̌̿ͬ̚̚͝m̓̿ͩ̉͐̐͋́҉̼̝̜ ͛̅ͥ͜͏͓͔̤̳̺͢i̷̡̘̞̮͍͋͆ͩ̏̀ͣ͂s̢̢͕͙͈̤̩͍̺̅ͅ ̯̫̞ͪIͪ̈́̏́ͥ͊̉ͬ́҉͇̙̺͚̼͓̠͙.̨̜̯̫͖̭̯͎́ͯ̀͊̇"̣̼͔̈͗͒
---
Magical Threats to the Empire (2500IC; Restricted Magister Edition)
...
Sylvania and The Dreamer
Since the Battle of Drakenhof(2481IC) (also known as the Battle of Dreamshades), Sylvania has become one of the most dangerous and unforbidding territories of the world, surpassed with certainty only by the northern Chaos Wastes. Belonging to the entity known as The Dreamer, those passing into Sylvania rarely return, and the minds of those who do are greatly changed by it. Though once famous for its infestation of undead that often spilled over into Stirland, the Dhar-corrupted Shyish winds of the land have since faded. Instead, they have been replaced by Dhar-corrupted winds of Ulgu, resulting in a realm of shadow and madness, where dreams of the hopeful come true and make them reluctant to leave, while the fears of the frightful swiftly transform into reality and consume them.
The creator of this realm, The Dreamer, is an entity of great power whose exact abilities, at this point, are possibly beyond enumeration, given the wide variety of reliable, but conflicting reports on the matter. Some Magisters have hypothesized that The Dreamer gains and loses abilities based on what her individuals in her immediate vicinity believe them to have, though this hypothesis remains unconfirmed. Nonetheless, it has been confirmed within reason that regardless of their opponents' beliefs, The Dreamer is an Ulgu mage of Battle Wizard caliber, as well as having the ability to create Dream Shades. Almost always, The Dreamer is accompanied by their first shade: the Shade of E̸l̷ect͞ór͡ ̶C͡ount Ab̀ȩlhe̢l̡m ̴V͟an ҉H͝a͡l, once a witch hunter and a fearsome warrior especially in that state of aberration.
Besides The Dreamer themselves, Dream Shades are the most immediately dangerous of Sylvania's denizens, coming in three varieties: Greater, Corrupted and Lesser. All three varieties are sometimes referred to as Dopplegängers by the common folk of the Empire. All variations of Dream Shade are exceedingly difficult to destroy permanently: to do so requires careful analysis of the Shade's magical existence, followed by a disjunction tailored for the specific shade. To study and disjunct a shade that has yet to replace their original is a fairly straightforward (if time-consuming) task made complex only by the Shade's attempts to break free during the process; given time, even Apprentice-level Grey Wizards ought to be able to succeed at the disjunction. However a shade that has succeeded in the replacement is far more difficult, and a permanent disjunction is a Magister-level task, likely beyond all but the most talented of Journeymen. Fortunately, to restrain the shades of humans is fairly straightforward once they are captured: Dream Shades of all varieties lack the ability to become intangible at will, and can only do so in reaction to direct physical or magical damage to their form. The only exception to this is the Shades of wizards, which possessed such an ability before becoming shades.
Greater Dream Shades take the form of a living individual as they dream to be, and will likely attempt to convince a willing merger, where the true person is subsumed under the idealized strength and willpower of the Shade, though failure to persuade results in an attempt to force the merger. Greater Dream Shades are created personally by The Dreamer.
Corrupted Dream Shades take the form of a living individual, corrupted to evil and madness; should the individual in question possess such a fear. Shaped by the beliefs of the true individual, they may or may not outmatch the original. Unlike Greater Dream Shades, they will usually attempt to kill the true individual, rather than dominate them, though Corrupted Shades with an obsession of domination are not unheard of. Corrupted Dream Shades can be created by The Dreamer, as well as by the Shades of Gray Wizards.
Lesser Dream Shades tend to take an imperfect and transparent mockery of the true individual. Some stronger examples of Lesser Dream Shades occasionally manage to take a more perfect form that can pass for the original person in a state of weakness or brokenness. While they rarely confront the individual they are formed of directly, as Greater and Corrupted variations do, the Lesser variation pursues a different strategy of replacing the original: they stalk their original until an opportunity presents itself to slay or subsume the original (most commonly, when the original falls asleep alone, ideally in the isolated wilderness). While not as dreadful to face as the Greater and Corrupted variants once discovered, the Lesser variant is threatening in its' own way, as they are capable of shifting into existence without a summoner anywhere in Sylvania, simply from the presence of a true individual. It is also hypothesized among Magisters of the Gray Order that the "peaceful and optimistic" residents of Sylvania, reported by the handful of people to return from the lands alive, are Lesser Dream Shades that have replaced the original population. Or particular threat, are Lesser Shades of Grey Wizards which stalk their true self out of Sylvania, and may begin summoning Corrupted Shades outside its' borders if they succeed in replacing their original.
...
---
A Magister's Index of Forbidden Lore (2512 IC; Restricted Edition)
...
The Three Tomes of Weber
The Three Tomes of Weber are a collection of books second in infamy only to the Books of Nagash (indeed, surpassing even the Liber Mortis at the time of this writing), and a harsh reminder to Mages of the Empire than not all great works of darkness and madness are something from ages long past. Written between 2475 and 2480 by the individual now referred to only as The Dreamer. Though the author's name and identity are known in Imperial and College record, it is hypothesized that people accurately remembering The Dreamer feeds The Dreamer's power, thus the true name and identity have been stricken from all but the most restricted secret records. The tomes, and the underlying research, was carried out when The Dreamer possessed the Liber Mortis, and is considered the definitive study of Umbramancy: the art of corrupting spells of Ulgu with Dhar. The three tomes making up the collection are: Liber Umbra Infinum, Liber Somnum Aeterna and Liber Verum Terros; or in Reikspiel: The Book of Infinite Shadow, The Book of Eternal Dreams and The Book of True Nightmares.
Liber Umbra Infinum is the most benign of the three, primarily dealing with theoretical analysis of Ulgu and laying the groundwork for the latter two books. After thorough review by the appropriate authorities, a version censoring some 1/5th of the book was approved for use by Magisters and Journeymen (with a Magister's letter of approval) of the College. A copy of the uncensored book is held in the vaults of the Gray Order, the justified study of which is occasionally permitted to select Magisters on the mutual approval of the Patriarch of the Gray Order and the Grand Theogonist.
Liber Somnum Aeterna is believed to be the tome containing the secret to creating Dream Shades. Any copies discovered and identified are to be retrieved and turned over to the Gray College without further study, or reported to the same if retrieval is impossible. A copy is held in unspecified Imperial vaults, to be studied in only the direst of emergency by the Grand Theogonist or the Patriarch of the Gray Order.
The contents of Liber Verum Terros are a matter of utmost secrecy. If you are required to know, the Patriarch of the Order will inform you of it in confidence. Any suspected copies are to be destroyed immediately, without further attempts at identification.
...
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I would add a note here that the slayers are a little grumpy that they only lost half of their number, though gratified and probably a little sad that the humans successfully imitated them.
Okay, lets see the given examples first, then expand upon them:
-Artillery is the King of Battle.
Artillery was decisive in every engagement where it was possible to deploy, and our greatest losses were suffered when we COULDN'T use it.
However, its of lesser personal value. Mathilde is a spymaster and a wizard. She's not very likely to be in command of artillery on a regular basis.
-Dwarves are the greatest ally of humanity.
On a personal level, the dwarfs were what actually made the last stretch WIN. Without them, even with Asarnil, I would have been much more dubious of our odds.
Utility wise, being respectful of one of the Elder Races is, I think a boon in itself, though rarely applied.
Cost wise...actually living up to the dwarf alliance can be expensive. They never, ever ask for help until all hope is nearly lost. Expect more hell.
-The Halflings have proven themselves as a worthy neighbour.
They came through on this. They brought much food, and they sent men when the Empire did not.
Utility wise, halflings are a major asset for a spymaster. They are beneath notice much of the time, but thats why its good to have ties with them.
Cost wise, the problem is with the rest of Stirland. Down the line this may lead to a conflict of interest with the rest of Stirland, because Moot Revanchism is one of the big factors here,
-The risks of Dhar are endless - but likewise is the potential.
This...well if you want Nagash the Second Mathilde, this is it. The temptation of Dhar, AND a certain wary respect for them is the combo you need to go bad without going (too) mad.
Cost wise, a fascination with Dhar is all the cost you need.
-The dead of Sylvania's prehistory deserve an undisturbed rest.
And a respect for the Wight Kings she's encountered in the Haunted Hills. They just want to rest in peace.
The benefits would probably be a Hatred against necromancers and the unquiet dead. Likely better relations with the Morrites.
Cost wise, respect for the dead limits our ability to exploit their assets and also limits our ability to actively root out the wight kings and hidden tombs so the necromancers can't get at them.
Now my personal suggestions:
-Mathematics is universal.
Something subtle, but note the key parts of the campaign where math played an essential role:
1) The logistics supplying the army with men, equipment and food was arguably what made it possible at all.
2) The mathematics of artillery, how one can strike beyond line of sight, how shaped shells are of vastly greater accuracy than round.
3) How the very Bound Spells she worked on relied on math to be described
4) How the flow of currency and simple math was closer to the downfall of the Watch and her intelligence network more than enemy action.
5) How she used trigonometry to sight on the necromancer at the castle and strike her down before she could work havoc.
An extension of her previous work, and highlighting how she had grown from someone who looked at math like foul sorcery to someone who had seen its value in the world. It'd aid in magical research and stewardship matters mainly, that she pays attention rather than glaze over.
-Complex problems, simple solutions.
An outgrowth of her Practical trait, elaborated by recent events.
1) Gustav destroying the blood fountain by the simple expedient of excessive amounts of rocks.
2) Anton getting Asarnil by simple asking and paying attention.
3) Abelhelm's doom was the inverse of this. A little showmanship and he complicated a simple plan, created a devastating point of failure.
4) The Dawi's treatment of the complex bonds of guilt, honor and responsibility. Cut the crap, get to the point, lay out the facts. And judge.
5) The destruction of Castle Drakenhof. Rock and steel at Sufficient Velocity and Unlimited Quantity.
A little sad perhaps, that the ill-concealed romantic in Mathilde had gone. That hopes and dreams are just that.
Use the simplest possible solution and you minimize the points of failure.
Unfortunately this may actually hurt her development as a Wizard. Magic is very rarely the simplest solution.
-Unity brings Strength, Discord brings Failure
This entire campaign is a demonstration of this.
1) The Grand Theogonist chose not to stand together. For that, a great man died, with one healer where he could have had a half dozen.
2) The Provinces of the Empire, including Stirland kept their eyes within their own borders and their own matters, so no help came when it was called for.
3) The Colleges of Magic did not stand together. Was the rivalry between Light and Shadow worth the human costs when bridges that should have been there to call upon did not fall to a bored Magister? The Amethyst Patriarch struck off on his own and met a doom unsupported. He had not seen fit to ask or to wait for the Castle to fall, despite what he seeks having lain there centuries past.
4) For a lack of unity, Ulthuan is bereft one of its greatest champions. Over politics and pride, a son of Ulthuan wanders alone.
5) The Dwarfs stood together with Man and saw to the ruin of the forces of Old Night. They could not have done this on their own lacking the manpower and more importantly, expendable manpower, but neither could Stirland have done it without them to bring the thunder and harden the steel.
6) The Halflings stood up and brought what their neighbor needed. Food and men. Food we were lacking in, we knew from Wilhelmina, only the Moot providing supplies made it so stress free.
7) Here and now, Man, Dwarf, Elf and Halfling stood together to crush evil to dust.
A diplomatic insight is strange to see in a wizard, in a spy. But it is basic truth, the powers of Destruction stand alone. One necromancer amidst a thousand slaves.
Order must stand together.
The damage in a separate post. This is ridiculously large already
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VoidZero
Passing Flan 布丁魔王
- Location
- Anywhere but RL
Guile
Having a really great time right now
I do feel like the voters were taught at every step of the way that unless you have an elder dragon, no single hero unit can change the world. Magic in particular is fickle and unreliable, and no hokey religion is a match for the Helblaster at your side. Heroism cannot carry the day; only friendship forged in blood and deals in the dark can do that.
Buy cannons.
Buy cannons.
- Location
- Germany
Let's be fair to heroes and magic, cannons are not that much more reliable.
Especially the ones used by the Empire right now are still just as likely to blow up on a critfail as a Wizard is.
Especially the ones used by the Empire right now are still just as likely to blow up on a critfail as a Wizard is.
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- Location
- Rivendell
[X] The campaign is over, so your duty to Abelhelm is done. What else is there? Leave. Pack your snake-in-a-box, pack your equipment, pack your savings, pack the Liber Mortis, and go somewhere else.
Guile
Having a really great time right now
Nope, that doesn't sound like the experience we just had.
Every wizard blew themselves up and died, including the Patriarch of the Amethysts and the Elector Countess. The cannons functioned perfectly every time.
- Location
- Germany
Because we had a lot of luck with them?
If the rolls for cannons had been nat 1s at least some would have exploded, if the rolls for Wizards had been consistantly high we would have seen more nice effects like the Singing King kill or Hexensohn's dispelling.
Guile
Having a really great time right now
Mmm, nope! That didn't happen, sorry.
Magic bad, artillery good.
So the existing damages:
-In the confusion of battle, even the greatest warrior can lose their life pointlessly.
Fear. There is no safety in strength of arms. No safety in might of magic. No comfort in healers, nor security even in undeath.
Abelhelm fell despite being a warrior unmatched on the battlefield in either arms or skill. He fell to a nameless, mindless skeleton.
The Patriarch fell despite being as potent in magic as a human could get.
Kasmir's healing failed, and Jovi died.
The Singing King, von Carstiens, for all their power they fell.
Path to Craven or Paranoid
-The Colleges of Magic act in their own interest, rather than that of the Empire.
Crisis of Faith. Mathilde had always, never thought twice about the competence and rightness to the Colleges. She's always been sure that despite their differences they would back the Empire. But what help was found in the College was built on boredom and loot.
She brought them confident that they could help. They did not.
This would hurt her prospects as a Wizard I think, especially in the Grey Order which has a PARTICULAR devotion and concern to loyalties.
-Sylvanians will meekly accept any tyrant, to the point of complicity in their actions.
Victim Blaming and provincialism. Mathilde hates the people who let this happen rather than fight to the end, hate the sheep who let the vampires drink their fill.
A certain lack of professionalism and suspicion would taint her dealings with Sylvania, her Watch then, becomes symbols of oppression, knowing the distrust of their leader against the Sylvanians and recruiting from the veterans who came from this terrible battle, who had seen Sylvanians burst into undead monsters that killed and maimed them.
Sylvania is held in flesh but not spirit in the end.
-The Empire is a morass of self-interest, to the point of becoming a millstone around the neck of humanity.
Whoo boy. This one is a nasty one because of her religious beliefs. This is textbook revolutionary Ranaldite Creed. Where the revolutionary points out that the protectors of the people have not upheld their duties. Perhaps it might be best to burn it clean and rebuild from the ashes, as Sylvania will be.
Needless to say this is not a good sentiment for the Grey Order to learn about.
-The Morrite compunction against mutilating corpses is the greatest gift necromancers could ask for.
I'm not sure that this is fair, given that the Morrites have done excellent service by her. Granted she's not the most rational right now, and the scars sure aren't going to care.
Its a relatively minor thing, hating a relatively minor faith for a practice that would have been right and natural in any reasonable world.
Just that the world is less than reasonable.
Mechanically and practically, it hurts little, beyond what it says about Mathilde.
-I, personally, failed to protect Abelhelm.
Depression. However well she fought, it was not well enough. However well she prepared, it was not well enough.
This is the Mathilde who may grow stronger under the strain...or shatter beyond recovery. A dangerous path to walk.
So other damages to chip in:
-Magic is unreliable
What she had seen was an endless parade of the failures of magic. Of necromancers and witches with more power than brains. Of the still burning(@BoneyM is the Hysh fire still on?) pyre of Jovi Sunscryer. Of one magic user after another, priests included, failing at their tasks. So then, is she so different after all?
Hurt her DEEP as a wizard of course. To fear failure, to avoid risk is how you degrade your magical ability. Still, should be brought up.
-Weakness of Man
As spymaster she had seen a parade of the failings of humanity. Here, what really killed Abelhelm was that the army he trained, the best of his men, all failed to live up to his trust. Where he charged forward, they hung back, for whatever reason, they failed to support the man they claimed fealty to. Even Markus, dear and late friend, sought to battle unto destruction rather than face his failure.
The Dwarfs are right. Umgi is an appropriate term, for Men are poorly made indeed.
Only a rare few can be trusted...which means she's going to be an utter bitch to her subordinates.
-Political Disgust
Everything boiled down to politics. The Grand Theogonist would rather play stupid games of politics than uphold his religious duties. The Colleges are no different in their games, and the provinces look at Stirland's rise from the crater it resides in with contempt and suspicion.
Necromancers and the undead did the killing. But politics made it possible.
Perhaps they should be more akin to Anton, a simple man for all his duties.
Needless to say, barring some rare exceptions, dealing with nobles and courtiers will be...tainted. It would not even need to be tainted much, for the such despised politics would set upon every shred of revulsion exposed.
-A weighty burden.
What Abelhelm Van Hal entrusted to her.
1) A Knighthood of Stirland
2) The fall of the vampires
3) The BOOK
Heavy burdens to carry. The duty of a Knight to her liege demands that she establish her dynasty and protect Stirland against all who seek harm. The duty of a vampire hunter, and the one vampire(?) within sight, mocking her futile struggles. The heaviest burden of all, the legacy of his family to be protected and turned to good where it can be.
Stress. Burn the candle at both ends, for she will not fail these last duties. She can rest when she had met all expectations.
-A hammer not worth respect.
Sigmar failed the Empire. For all that good men believe in him, he is not worthy. His Church plays silly buggers over fighting the darkness, and he had elected not to give aid to his chosen representatives in the mortal world at the most crucial time. His priests teach the hatred of magic, and once upon a time, she would have been burned for his beliefs.
Despising the leading religion of the Empire, of course, is not going to be good. But it is not too strange for a wizard certainly.
And now, to bed.
-In the confusion of battle, even the greatest warrior can lose their life pointlessly.
Fear. There is no safety in strength of arms. No safety in might of magic. No comfort in healers, nor security even in undeath.
Abelhelm fell despite being a warrior unmatched on the battlefield in either arms or skill. He fell to a nameless, mindless skeleton.
The Patriarch fell despite being as potent in magic as a human could get.
Kasmir's healing failed, and Jovi died.
The Singing King, von Carstiens, for all their power they fell.
Path to Craven or Paranoid
-The Colleges of Magic act in their own interest, rather than that of the Empire.
Crisis of Faith. Mathilde had always, never thought twice about the competence and rightness to the Colleges. She's always been sure that despite their differences they would back the Empire. But what help was found in the College was built on boredom and loot.
She brought them confident that they could help. They did not.
This would hurt her prospects as a Wizard I think, especially in the Grey Order which has a PARTICULAR devotion and concern to loyalties.
-Sylvanians will meekly accept any tyrant, to the point of complicity in their actions.
Victim Blaming and provincialism. Mathilde hates the people who let this happen rather than fight to the end, hate the sheep who let the vampires drink their fill.
A certain lack of professionalism and suspicion would taint her dealings with Sylvania, her Watch then, becomes symbols of oppression, knowing the distrust of their leader against the Sylvanians and recruiting from the veterans who came from this terrible battle, who had seen Sylvanians burst into undead monsters that killed and maimed them.
Sylvania is held in flesh but not spirit in the end.
-The Empire is a morass of self-interest, to the point of becoming a millstone around the neck of humanity.
Whoo boy. This one is a nasty one because of her religious beliefs. This is textbook revolutionary Ranaldite Creed. Where the revolutionary points out that the protectors of the people have not upheld their duties. Perhaps it might be best to burn it clean and rebuild from the ashes, as Sylvania will be.
Needless to say this is not a good sentiment for the Grey Order to learn about.
-The Morrite compunction against mutilating corpses is the greatest gift necromancers could ask for.
I'm not sure that this is fair, given that the Morrites have done excellent service by her. Granted she's not the most rational right now, and the scars sure aren't going to care.
Its a relatively minor thing, hating a relatively minor faith for a practice that would have been right and natural in any reasonable world.
Just that the world is less than reasonable.
Mechanically and practically, it hurts little, beyond what it says about Mathilde.
-I, personally, failed to protect Abelhelm.
Depression. However well she fought, it was not well enough. However well she prepared, it was not well enough.
This is the Mathilde who may grow stronger under the strain...or shatter beyond recovery. A dangerous path to walk.
So other damages to chip in:
-Magic is unreliable
What she had seen was an endless parade of the failures of magic. Of necromancers and witches with more power than brains. Of the still burning(@BoneyM is the Hysh fire still on?) pyre of Jovi Sunscryer. Of one magic user after another, priests included, failing at their tasks. So then, is she so different after all?
Hurt her DEEP as a wizard of course. To fear failure, to avoid risk is how you degrade your magical ability. Still, should be brought up.
-Weakness of Man
As spymaster she had seen a parade of the failings of humanity. Here, what really killed Abelhelm was that the army he trained, the best of his men, all failed to live up to his trust. Where he charged forward, they hung back, for whatever reason, they failed to support the man they claimed fealty to. Even Markus, dear and late friend, sought to battle unto destruction rather than face his failure.
The Dwarfs are right. Umgi is an appropriate term, for Men are poorly made indeed.
Only a rare few can be trusted...which means she's going to be an utter bitch to her subordinates.
-Political Disgust
Everything boiled down to politics. The Grand Theogonist would rather play stupid games of politics than uphold his religious duties. The Colleges are no different in their games, and the provinces look at Stirland's rise from the crater it resides in with contempt and suspicion.
Necromancers and the undead did the killing. But politics made it possible.
Perhaps they should be more akin to Anton, a simple man for all his duties.
Needless to say, barring some rare exceptions, dealing with nobles and courtiers will be...tainted. It would not even need to be tainted much, for the such despised politics would set upon every shred of revulsion exposed.
-A weighty burden.
What Abelhelm Van Hal entrusted to her.
1) A Knighthood of Stirland
2) The fall of the vampires
3) The BOOK
Heavy burdens to carry. The duty of a Knight to her liege demands that she establish her dynasty and protect Stirland against all who seek harm. The duty of a vampire hunter, and the one vampire(?) within sight, mocking her futile struggles. The heaviest burden of all, the legacy of his family to be protected and turned to good where it can be.
Stress. Burn the candle at both ends, for she will not fail these last duties. She can rest when she had met all expectations.
-A hammer not worth respect.
Sigmar failed the Empire. For all that good men believe in him, he is not worthy. His Church plays silly buggers over fighting the darkness, and he had elected not to give aid to his chosen representatives in the mortal world at the most crucial time. His priests teach the hatred of magic, and once upon a time, she would have been burned for his beliefs.
Despising the leading religion of the Empire, of course, is not going to be good. But it is not too strange for a wizard certainly.
And now, to bed.
[X] The campaign is over, but your duty to Stirland remains. Go home to Wurtbad.
I am half wondering if there could be an option to study the magical incompetence field around Drakenhof. Like, it seems the lesson here is about the supremacy of guns and steel compared to the feeble might of magic.
More seriously, the trauma of seeing how even the mightest warrior can be cut down resonates with me because my thoughs about Van Hal death were "What a stupid pointless death, he was just cut down by a random skeleton with no fanfare.", so in this instance I am of the same mind as Mathilde.
I am half wondering if there could be an option to study the magical incompetence field around Drakenhof. Like, it seems the lesson here is about the supremacy of guns and steel compared to the feeble might of magic.
More seriously, the trauma of seeing how even the mightest warrior can be cut down resonates with me because my thoughs about Van Hal death were "What a stupid pointless death, he was just cut down by a random skeleton with no fanfare.", so in this instance I am of the same mind as Mathilde.
I'd say that in the narrative?
You need nothing more than "The air is rich in Dhar".
Dhar seeks to destroy, corrupt and ruin. It doesn't give a shit what it hits. So Jovi's Hysh fire and the Countess's Doom Bolts suffered much the same fate. Once something went wrong it started getting even more wrong really fast.
Also like 70% of the cannonry being competent is that:
-They have dwarfs helping plan and set up the cannon, dwarfs criticizing and in at least one case personally playing with the cannons. This mostly means more reliable charges used and any defective or strained metal gets pulled out of line.
Based on the RL equivalent, the Greatcannons explode due to two main reasons. Unpredictable charge output due to inconsistent powder leading to random overcharge of the cannon and thus explosion. Metal fatigue is not a well known study. Cannons accumulate microfractures over their operational life as part of firing, which eventually means the cannon will grow less flexible and eventually deform or burst from the accumulated stresses.
And to a smaller extent they are kind of scared shitless of what Mathilde might do to them after having seen her slag an army of ghouls, so they are extra careful.
Last edited:
Omegahugger
Inattentive Idiot
There, I fixed it.