Well, again, there's some strong hints that Cathay is able to use Qhaysh in some form.
The Colleges don't do it because Qhaysh battlemagic is less than 8 times more powerful than mono-wind battlemagic, while being more than 8 times more difficult to teach. Teclis thus decided that mono-wind teachings were a better use of time, and I find it hard to disagree with that premise given what we know about magic and the situation at the time.
It's interesting, but I'd assume the Cathayans aren't doing it themselves, and are either seeing dragons shape spells, or they're having their gods do some of the magic shaping, potentially fixing the complexity issues with Qhaysh, and maybe the corruption issues with Dhar.
But if it were possible to acquire Qhaysh from an environmental source and shape it with 'tongs' of one specific wind it would reduce the training time required to wield Qhaysh, and make it more of a logical extension of the current human wizard skill progression.
It's interesting, but I'd assume the Cathayans are either seeing dragons shape spells, or they're having their gods do some of the magic shaping, potentially fixing the complexity issues with Qhaysh, and maybe the corruption issues with Dhar.
But if it were possible to acquire Qhaysh from an environmental source and shape it with 'tongs' of one specific wind it would reduce the training time required to weild Qhaysh, and make it more of a logical extension of the current human wizard skill progression.
Yeah, I strongly doubt that Qhaysh in Cathay is as simple as "just learn to cast it lol", there's almost certainly something more going on there. At minimum, maybe some weird dragon bullshit being used to be longer lived and less prone to mutating simply buying magic users more time to practice and master the art - at maximum, Tzeentch bullshit might be in play, since IIRC he's not a proscribed god there.
But, like, the entire point is that we're doing the Stronk thing. The secret forbidden technique, the 'the protagonist only has a week until the tournament arc' training montage. Ultra specialization until we can punt infinitely old daemons into the shadow realm in a few decades, rather than spending centuries carefully performing incremental interactions with magic like a sane person.
The only way we could get even more reckless and powerful is by using Humanity's ultra-affinity for villain magic. Extra winds could only give us additional versatility.
I disagree. Human mages are definitely trained faster than elven ones, but if Elven Battlemages were so rare as you assume, they'd never be fielded, except in the utmost need.
But, like, the entire point is that we're doing the Stronk thing. The secret forbidden technique, the 'the protagonist only has a week until the tournament arc' training montage. Ultra specialization until we can punt infinitely old daemons into the shadow realm in a few decades, rather than spending centuries carefully performing incremental interactions with magic like a sane person.
"Teclis-senpai! What you're planning... it's insane! There's no way that Volans-kun can learn the one-hundred-and-eight harmonious diagrams of Light in time for the big tournament!"
But Teclis simply pushed up his glasses, causing the sun's glint to reflect off of them. "You're right, Finreir-san. But he doesn't actually need to know all the diagrams to perform the Speed of Thought technique."
Finreir staggered backwards, as if struck. "Guh-! But without the ability to counterbalance, he'll be torn apart for certain! The slightest hesitation, the most minor misstep, and he'll scatter himself across space and time!"
Teclis turned towards the cloudy sky, and smiled. "You're underestimating Volans-kun. After all, with something to fight for... I know he won't hold anything back! He won't hesitate even for an instant, you'll see!"
Hmm. We can't learn to channel divine magic like a priest can. However could we learn to use our own version of Waaagh with Renald? Our understanding of Waaagh in large part came from the power of Mork going through us and Renald absorbed it. Is it possible that he might have gotten some insight as well?
If it's the ultimate argument you're looking for, consider the following:
There's a non-zero chance that using Ranald's Coin on the Snake Juice could make Ranald Juice.
We're hoping to combine Power Stone Creation with Aethyric Vitae to make an Aethyr Stone.
Thus, there's a nonzero chance that using Ranald's Coin on the Snake Juice could let us make Ranald Stones.
Is it likely? No.
Is it likely enough to even be worth considering as a reason to do Coin research? Probably not.
But would it be neat? It would be nifty.
It's also important to realize how fucking crazy Teclis's plan must have seemed, in context. He decided to teach humans battlemagic, the kind of magic that tears battlefields apart and leaves scars on reality that can last centuries. And in order to churn out battlemages within the human's pathetic lifespans, he basically ripped all of the safeties that take decades of practice to learn out of the curriculum and relied on sheer luck that more of the newly created mages would explode towards the enemy instead of towards allies.
The appropriate analogy is probably "as the zombie horde continues to break the barricades and encroach on your safehouse, you give the toddler in the back a loaded pistol and tell him to take pot-shots through the window".
I disagree. Human mages are definitely trained faster than elven ones, but if Elven Battlemages were so rare as you assume, they'd never be fielded, except in the utmost need. Certainly Ulthuan wouldn't be ok with three of them just leaving while there are still active contingents of Druchii around. Yet that happens. It would make a lot more sense to me if simply graduating as a an Elven mage (that is, to become the equivalent of a Magister) automatically qualifies you as a battlemage for the purposes of the Asur.
I mean, even given Teclis' prodigal nature, he still completed several courses of study, including magic, in the White Tower within about 130 years. I'd guess anywhere between 150 and 200 is about standard for an Asur mage, assuming they didn't go onto to further study as an Archmage, or more courses as a Loremaster.
Run the numbers:
-Elves have vastly more people with magical potential than humans. The entire population has some magical talent, while in humans its more like a 1% thing(made up for it by there being a lot more than 100x more humans than elves).
-Not all humans with magic talent actually have that much talent, dead ending as Apprentices. Most elves who'd choose a magic career on the other hand, usually can make it to Magister.
Viewed in that light, the training strategies make sense.
For elves the limitation on their wizards isn't actually that bad, they can afford to take ten times as long to train a functioning wizard, because they have a large body of people with guaranteed high magical potential to be trained, and the supply is stable, theres more with every generation. As long as all their students graduate they're fine.
For humans, the proportion of magic potentials is kind of crap, the ability of the potentials are all over the place, so instead you put them through a sink or swim curriculum, filter out those who're going to do nothing else in their life but cast Battlemagic and put them into training to become living weapons while the rest get a training pace which leaves them still (mostly) sane and free to improve on their own.
So something like(numbers extracted from my ass):
1000 elves -> 100 students -> 100 full featured wizards
1000000 humans -> 1000 students -> 50 battle wizards, 50 full featured wizards, 100 regular Magisters, 200 stuck at Journeyman, 400 stuck at Apprentice, 200 dead or worse.
The elves also have another advantage : their magic school is very safe. So they can churn out as many battlemages every year as humans can (sure it takes longer, but they have more candidates and can run a much bigger school with similar yearly graduation numbers as the humans) because the risk that this "pipeline" will be damaged and cause a very long gap in battlemage training is extremely low.
Furthermore, elves live a lot longer than human wizards and have safer magic, IIRC. So their battlemages, once trained, will generally last much longer.
The mountains blocked out the worst of the sun's glare and Markus hated it. Looming mountains closed around him like a cage. He wanted the beautiful skies of his home. The wide open fields that stretched endless before him. The thing he wanted most though was his friends. Matha's legs dangled outside the covered cart as she waved and giggled to whoever was near. It grated on his ears. Didn't she realize that she wouldn't see any of her friends again? That they might be stuck here surrounded by dull grey mountains for the rest of their life? He hunched down and drew his cloak around him. Hopefully sleep would have dreams of better things and he could spend time away from the tragedy his life had become.
A jolt of the cart had Markus slammed into something hard. Head spinning, he groaned and opened bleary eyes to his sister leaning away from him holding her head. "Martha what happened?"
"What happened is your head is a brick! I was trying to wake you up and what do I get? A cracked skull! Sigmar does it hurt!"
"Why were you so close?"
"Well, I called out to you and you didn't wake up. So… I was going to slap you awake."
"Slap me?" Markus said in disbelief. "Why would you slap me?"
"Well, the water we have is for drinking." Martha replied primly. "So I couldn't pour it on you. What else would you have me do? Tickle you awake?"
"Please sis. I don't want to be tickled."
"What's that? That moppy face makes me want to tickle you. Cheer up or be tickled!"
As Martha moved to attack Father peered through the curtain separating the covered cart. "I hear Markus is awake. Thank you Martha. Why don't you two come up front? We are almost to the East Gate. It's quite the sight."
Martha smirked. "You got lucky today!" Then she scuttled forward taking care to avoid knocking over any of the precious few knicknacks they carried with them to the ends of the world.
Markus grumbled while he spread his cloak over his space of the cart before he reluctantly made his way to the front. Crisp blue skies spread past two monstrous peaks and the gate that saddled them. The great gates of aged wood had been opened for the small cavaren. All around Markus could see spears of shining silver and banners fluttering over the harsh stone of the walls.
The silence that had overtaken the family as they gazed on the sight before them was rather peaceful Markus thought, until Father broke it with a whimsical tone. "It certainly is regal looking. Don't you think so sweetheart?"
Mother giggled. "It certainly is! Just look at all those brave, and young, men. It's almost enough to make my heart flutter. You must be so excited Martha. Just you wait. We'll find someone right for you soon."
Markus thought he saw a shadow flicker behind his sister's eyes before the usual cheer returned.
Inch by inch their cart crept towards those great gates. Inch by inch dread grew in Markus' heart. As his family passed through the shadows of the entrance he knew that he had passed a threshold. Now he could only look forward to a life of misery.
The process of getting a place in what was apparently called Karag Nar was surprisingly simple. Father had been schooled in numbers and letters so many businesses would likely compete for his services and Mother was a midwife, something the Karag apparently needed badly, which made the process go smoothly. Soon a grizzled man with a fiendish scar running over his eye and through his lips introduced himself as Abel and guided them into the Karag.
A grand staircase seemingly riven from the very mountain stretching far into the peak was the first sight that greeted Markus. A black stallion shedding wisps of fog speeding past was the next. Abel had guided them through one of the smaller side entrances and Markus was glad he did. It gave a sense of detachment from the streams of people drifting through the passages around the staircase. And it prevented them from getting run over by a galloping shadow horse.
"What was that?" Markus said as he peered around the door and watched the horse disappear through the main gates of the mountain.
"That was Loremaster Mathilde Weber." Said Abel. "She lives at the peak of the mountain. Usually she moves slower. Must be something important to ride so fast."
"How does she keep a horse at the peak? Must be a lot of work to move all that food up the mountain." Martha said while peeking past Markus to look at the bustle filling the center of the mountain.
Abel chuckled. It was soft and scratchy sound like dry hands rubbing. "The loremaster is a wizard. I think she just summons the horse from the shadows or something. Don't know where it comes from but she uses it almost everyday to get up and down the Karag."
Mother tittered. "A wizard? Truly? I have met many people claiming to be wizards but they were all charlatans. It is hard to believe a wizard would be here."
Abel shrugged his shoulders. "Saw her shadow crush an orc on its own. Pretty sure she's a wizard."
Markus saw his mother's redding face and tried to shift the conversation. "Do we know where our rooms will be yet?"
"Probably in the first couple levels." Abel said. "Almost everyone lives there. Mountains have a lot of room so there's no point in walking up a lot of stairs yet. We have some rooms set aside in a tavern for you tonight. Why don't we walk that way?"
Markus sighed in relief when he saw Father start talking with Mother. He couldn't hear their whispers but Mother's face started taking a much softer complexion. Disaster averted. The gloomy stone around him seemed to lighten as they entered a new section of the mountain. Yet even as Markus saw familiar clothing styles he felt an invisible pressure pushing him closer to his family. He couldn't understand anyone around him. Words always flowed like water. Following conversations had been easy for him for as long as he could remember. Sharing the juiciest pieces of news had always been fun with his friends, but here Markus felt like he was drowning. Only a word in three or four seemed familiar. He couldn't understand anything being said. He couldn't understand. What was being said? Were they talking about him? He didn't know. He couldn't…
"You alright there kid?" Abel's voice pierced the fog that had descended.
Markus wiped sweat away from his neck. "Y… Yah. I'm fine." His voice was shaky and weak. He hated this. He hated those looks of concern. He was fine. He was strong.
Abel simply hummed before turning around and walking again. It was Martha that broke the uneasy silence that settled over their little group.
"Everything sounds really familiar but I can't really understand what people are talking about. What language is it? Estalian?"
Abel cocked his head. "Hmm…? Ah, we don't really speak Estalian but some words are used. It's really a mix between Imperial, Estalian, Tilean, Bretonnian, and Dwarf. It's a mess but it's pretty easy to pick up. There are plenty of people who speak Imperial like me so if you don't understand something just ask around and someone will explain it."
Markus felt his breath lighten. People spoke Imperial here. At least some. That would help.
It was only a couple minutes later that they arrived at the inn they would stay the night at. They got two rooms. One for Father and Mother and one for Martha and him. Abel left shortly after the rooms were paid for leaving the family alone for the first time since they stepped into the mountain. They sat around a single table in the corner of the inn. A fire roared pleasantly in the hearth and before long bowls of steaming soup with sides of roasted meat were served. It was the best meal Markus remembered having since they had left home. The soup had an enjoyable earthy taste and the meat was still tender. The peace of the meal was soon broken by Mother.
"This has been an exciting day! New people and new places! How exciting! I do wonder how that man, Abel, got his scar. Positively dreadful looking. He would have been quite the looker without that. Has anyone caught your eye Martha? I saw you looking around. Anyone pop out at you?"
Martha sputtered. "No Mother. I haven't seen anyone yet. I have just been enjoying all the new sights. Not really looking for anyone."
Mother tisked. "It's never too early to start thinking about marriage Martha. I will help you as much as I can, but you need to put your best foot forward too." Mother smiled at that. "If we work together we will find you a lovely man in no time. Just you see!"
Martha looked down into her soup. "Of course, mother."
"Don't be gloomy Martha. It won't take long at all. We can talk about this later of course. Speaking of gloomy though, Markus have you seen anyone your age to be friends with?"
Markus froze, spoon halfway to his mouth. The last thing he had been looking for was people to be friends with. "...Yes."
Mother clapped. "That's great Markus! I know the trip has been hard on you, but you should see if you can make some friends tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? Won't we be moving everything in tomorrow?"
"Well yes." Mother said. "But we don't have much stuff and it won't take long. You should take the chance to run around. You have been stuck in one place for too long I think. Just meet up here for lunch tomorrow and then we'll show you where we are staying."
"Yes, Mother."
Having said her piece Mother turned and started talking to Father. Markus tuned them out. He needed to figure out how to spend an entire morning in a place he didn't know around people he couldn't understand. He already felt sick. He hadn't figured anything out by the time he fell asleep. His roiling stomach was his only companion in the dark. And Martha's snores.
Markus often enjoyed mornings. The sun's rays just barely peeking over the horizon. Birds slowly waking up and singing to each other. There was often a peaceful beauty in mornings. None of that existed here in the mountain. The only way he realized that it was morning was hearing the other doors around him open and close. He stumbled around in the pure blackness of the room until he found the door and cracked it open. The wavering light of lamps inched into the room and let him see enough to prepare for the day. He didn't even manage to finish breakfast before Mother thrusted him out of the door and told him to enjoy the day.
The piece of bread still in Markus' mouth turned to ash as he looked around the carven street. Already he could feel that pressure isolating him, pushing him back. He was strong. He was brave. He could do this.
He stood in the entrance of an inn and looked around. A small copper coin found its way to his hand and he flipped it. Heads. Alright time to turn right. He wandered down the street for a while, looking at the different shops and stores. Most of them looked new. Crates still on the floor new. People and filled shops vanished at steady rate as he wandered. He had yet to see a single kid his age. That was good. He could just tell Mother that he hadn't seen anyone. That would work. If he found a quiet corner he could just nap until Mother's time limit expired. A couple of twists and turns later there were almost no people in the streets. This would be perfect. He peeked into a door that no one seemed to be near and griminced. On second thought this wouldn't work at all.
It looked like the gambling hall from back home but much grander. Solid tables sat evenly spaced apart. A fighting ring with fresh sawdust dominated one corner. The ceiling was tall and the room was well lit. There was even a large cat made of black and grey rock at the back. Several people ambled about cleaning the tables and mugs. It was in every way the complete opposite of what people normally pictured when someone mentioned a gambling hall. Yet, it was still clearly a gambling hall. If Mother learned he put one toe in here he would be lucky if he had a hide left. Just as he started to pull back a familiar voice spoke up from behind him.
"What are you doing here?" Abel said.
"Abel? Ahh… Mother sent me to look for kids my age so I am just wandering around."
Abel snorted. "Markus right? Well you won't find anyone your age here."
"I know!" Markus snapped. "That's why I was leaving."
Abel looked him over and then sighed. "Do you want to find friends Markus?"
"Mother told me to find friends."
Abel rubbed his hair. "You did say that but what do you want? Do you want to meet some kids?"
Markus shrugged.
"Fine." Said Abel. "It looks like today is your lucky day kid. I know a group of rascals your age hangs about near here. I'll show you where they are."
With that Abel turned away and motioned Markus to follow him. Markus paused for a second before following him. Abel seemed like a good guy but he might tell mother if he slunk off to take a nap.
It wasn't long at all before Markus stood inside a room with other's his age. It had been maybe a five minute walk with Abel.There were about five other kids sprawled out on some broken pieces of what Markus thought may have been furniture at one point. Now though Markus stood off to the side while Abel explained the situation to the other kids as they eyed him up. At least that is what Markus thought Abel was doing since the words flowing back and forth were as alien as they were yesterday. The apparent leader of this group finally acquiesced and Abel turned back to Markus.
"Alright. These rascals will show you around the mountain and get you back to your inn by lunchtime. Enjoy."
With that Abel disappeared into the maze of stone they had left. Silence stretched on for a while as everyone sized each other up. Finally one of the leaner kids walked up and offered his hand.
"Good to meet you Markus. I'm Otto."
"Nice to meet you Otto."
"So here's the deal. I am the only one who can speak a lick of Imperial. You'll be sticking with me today."
Markus shrugged. "Alright."
"First things first though. We are all part of the Undumgi here. The Undumgi are brave so you have to pass a test of courage. Make sure you're brave enough to hang with us."
"Hang with you? Why would I want that? I'm out here because my mom wants me to be."
Otto nodded sympthically. "I hear yah. Mums can nagg something fierce. But you've been bored haven't yah? Nowhere to run free in the mountain."
Markus nodded slowly. "Doesn't seem like much to do around here."
Otto grinned. "That's where ya wrong. There are plenty of awesome places to go or see. And we'll show ya. You just have to pass the test."
"What's the test?"
"Come on! We'll show you." At that Otto said something to the other kids. Everyone else whooped and started to move towards the door. Markus got jostled some as everyone pushed past him and then Otto started pushing towards the door.
"Hurry up!"
The small herd dashed through the passageways. Whizzing around corners and seeing who can make the tightest turn. Or maybe racing to the end of a long stretch of hallways. Markus found himself caught up in the moment. Even found himself laughing with the others when someone misjudged a turn and tumbled. It was fun. Fun to finally be able to run instead of sitting on a cart all day. Fun to just be around kids his own age. Those feelings dimmed quickly as they approached the test. Everyone paused to take a breath and Otto patted him on the shoulder before directing him to an innocent looking door.
"Alright let's take a peek so you can see what the test is."
Markus looked into the room. A pillar greeted him. It rose from floor to ceiling looking like it was made from steel yet there was an unearthly glow to it. If one could call a tinge that seemed to eat light a glow. Markus' hairs stood up and he felt shivers start racing down his spine.
"That's the Rod of Doom." Otto said. "It runs straight up the mountain. All the way from dwarf hell to the top of Weber's tower. We call it the Rod of Doom because it burns things up. A couple months ago a huge, and I mean huge, waaagh came by. The Rod of Doom flashed once and they all died. Or at least almost all of the orcs did. Burned them right up. I heard their eyes popped out first. Just pop!" At this Otto squished his eyelids together with his fingers. "As the orcs eyes rolled around on the ground the orcs started burning up from the inside. They shriveled up like grapes in the sun before turning to ash."
"That didn't happen." Markus said. His skin felt clammy and his stomach churned.
"By Sigmar I swear it happened." Otto said. "I was here when the orcs invaded. I was watching them and in one instant that sea of green turned black."
"Alright. Alright. What's the test then?"
"Just walk into the room." Otto said with a jaunty grin.
Markus stared into the room. The pillar stood undaunted. He was brave. He could do this. He just needed to touch the pillar. Step by step he walked into the room. His own footsteps sounded like the steps of Morr. Inch by inch he crept closer. He was well into the room by now. An aura that seemed to eat light danced right before his finger tips. He looked down at his feet. A chasm stared back. The rod descended down and down into the inky blackness. If he were to see the flicker of some unearthly flame for a moment he would not doubt his eyes. His fingers strained as he pushed them forward begging him to go no further. He could do this though. He was brave.
A heavy hand twisted him around just before he succeeded. Otto stood there with his hand on Markus' shoulder.
"Alright!" Otto said as he continued to pull Markus away from the pillar. "That was fun. Why did you try to touch the pillar?"
"That was the test right?"
"No. You just had to enter the room. Which you did. So good for you. But..., lets not touch the rod of doom."
"I just had to enter the room?"
"Yah. We would have stopped you sooner but Travis here," Otto nodded at one of the kids who looked away and tried to whistle, "wanted to see how far you would go. I jumped in when I saw you leaning forward. It's not likely anything would have happened, but the pillar is sacred so we probably shouldn't touch it."
"I only had to enter?" Markus muttered. Then he caught the last part Otto said. "It's sacred? To who?" Markus could not imagine who that ominous pillar could be sacred too.
Otto nodded. "Yah. It's sacred to Gazul, the dwarf god of death. He can be a big deal around here."
"Really?"
"Yah. Not as big as the big three but there are a lot of super old tombs in Karak Eight Peaks. My Pa told me that when they first got here a dwarf stopped by the undumgi and told the do's and don'ts of tombs just in case they stumbled on one while fighting."
"Who are the big three? And what are the do's and don'ts? Why are there old tombs here?"
Otto looked back at Markus. "Ehhh… We can talk about that later. We'll teach you everything you need to know about living here at the Karak. Right guys?"
At this everyone else stuck their hand out. Markus shook each one and they all welcomed him. At least that is what Markus thought. He still couldn't understand a word they said.
"Right! Welcome to the gang Markus. For now though let's get some sun."
"Sun?"
Otto laughed. "Did you think that we would huddle under the mountain all day? We might be Undumgi but we're not dwarfs. Keep up!"
With that Otto sprinted off followed closely by the rest of the group. Their laughter echoed down the stone passageways. They followed a series of narrow paths until they came to boulder. Markus looked around the dead end while Otto fiddled with something near the ground.
"Why are we here?" Markus asked.
"This is the door." Said Otto as he patted the boulder in front of them. "It's all about finding the right leverage. And here we go!"
The door slid open with a whisper and blazing sunlight swept into the mountain. Markus stepped out onto a small alcove in the mountain. Above him was a cloudless blue sky. Below him on the left he saw the stout East Gate with it's banners snapping pleasantly in the breeze. The bright light chased away a chill he had forgotten about and he was tempted to lay down on the rocks and simply enjoy the sun. Then he saw Otto and the others doing just that. The rocks were warm and the breeze cool. If he closed his eyes he could imagine that he was back in the open plains. His thoughts started to drift and his eyes grew heavy as the others in his little group started to talk with their nonsense.
A poke brought him back and he looked at Otto who was grinning at him. The rest of the boys had crowded near one of the outcroppings and were peering over at something.
"You're in luck!" Otto said. "Adela is practicing today!"
"Adela?"
"Yah Adela!" Otto nodded vigorously. "You have just gotta see her!"
Markus almost stumbled as Otto pulled him up but he got his footing and crouched next to everyone else. Down below it looked like a small practice range had been set up. Like the ones back home. The interesting thing was the small almost barely visible girl stepping up.
"What's happening Otto?"
"She is a wizard Markus!"
"A wizard?" A red flash flew between the girl and the targets as if to prove the point.
"Yah! She can do all of these cool things with fire." Otto said. "She doesn't come out here as often as she used too, but it's always fun to watch things burn."
"But… Isn't she scary?" Markus said while he rubbed his arms. The hairs on his arms were standing up as he witnessed the unnatural blur of red whiz through the air.
"Scary? Not really. The wizards tend to stay to themselves but when they pop up they are so cool." Otto said.
"Cool how?"
"During the Battle of the Caldera, the big epic final fight for Karak Eight Peaks, some of the dwarf runelords started boiling the soil."
"Boiling the soil?" Markus asked in disbelief.
"Yah! Boiling the soil. Anyway two of the wizards are immune to heat, Adela is one of them, so they fought the orcs on boiling soil. I couldn't see it of course but I heard about it from the halflings who watched them. Just imagine. Fighting on soil that's bubbling and popping like stew on the fire all while it's hot enough to cook meat from bone." Otto sighed. "If only I could do something as cool."
Markus looked back towards the mountain and the rod of doom that laid inside. "I thought the rod of doom cooked all the orcs from the inside out."
Otto laughed. "Only most. Some of the cowards managed to dig themselves underground in time to avoid being cooked so they got boiled instead."
Markus flinched as he saw another red blur speed across the ground below. "Well, magic isn't something I should be dealing with. Mother would tan my hide if she caught me thinking about magic. She doesn't like it at all."
Otto nodded. "A lot of people from near the empire are like that. Wizards aren't that scary. Speaking of mothers we should get you back to yours."
Markus noted how far along the sun was in the sky. "That might be best. Looks like it's getting close to lunch time. How should I meet up with you guys later though?"
Otto tapped his chin. "Do you know the staircase?"
Markus nodded. There was only one staircase big enough to be a landmark. "What about it?"
Otto nodded decisively. "Good. We don't have time today to show you all the places we meet up, but I can meet you there tomorrow. If you're free?"
"I can probably convince Mother to let go."
"Great! We'll need to hurry though to get you back!"
The group once more moved through the cleanly cut stone passageways. Markus made sure to remember the path taken. He would enjoy spending more time in the sun. Soon enough he was waving goodbye to the group as they disappeared into the crowd around the inn. He stepped into the inn he was greeted by Mother's smile.
"I saw that you made some friends. Did you enjoy the morning?" Mother asked.
Markus shuffled his feet. "Yah… It was fun. There was a nice spot where you can get out of the mountain and enjoy the sun so that was nice."
"That's great! Oh I am so happy you found some kids your age. I was worried about you on the trip you know but I think everything is going to turn out all right. Please get your sister. She went to your room a little while ago. I would like to eat lunch with everyone before we finish moving everything to our new place." With that Mother hummed to herself before setting up at one of the clear tables.
Markus walked down the corner and counted the doors until he got to the room he was currently sharing with his sister. He hoped that situation would change quickly. It should. There was a lot of room in this mountain. He opened the door and saw his sister stiffen at the noise.
"Hey. Mom wants everyone together for lunch. Are you ready?"
"Yes. I'll just be a second Markus."
"Alright."
Markus closed the door and leaned against the opposite wall. A little while later Martha walked out. Before he could stop himself he spoke up.
"Are you alright?"
Martha looked at him with slightly puffy eyes. "Yes."
"It looks like you've been crying. Are you sure everything is alright?"
Martha snapped. "I. Am. Fine. Mother and I have had a bit of a disagreement. Nothing to worry yourself over."
Markus tightened his shoulders. "Sorry for asking." As he started to make his way down the hallway Martha sighed.
"I am sorry Markus. Things have been very stressful for me lately. Mother is pushing very hard for me to get married."
Markus looked up to see Martha staring off into the distance and rubbing her arm. Rubbing the scar that Markus knew has never stopped itching.
"I thought you wanted to marry?" Said Markus. "At least you've never said anything against everytime Mother has brought it up."
"I've said everything I could think of. Nothing has moved Mother at all."
"What do you want to do?" Asked Markus.
"I would like to fight. It's just a silly dream, but I have always wanted to swing a sword." Martha responded.
Markus could see tears trailing down her cheek.
She was picking at her dress, right where the scar was, now. "I just don't want to be helpless. Like… like last time. I thought moving here was a chance to learn. That's why I was so excited. But, maybe those rumors were just lies in the end."
"What rumors are you talking about?" Markus asked.
"Oh. It's nothing really. Some of the other girls back home were talking with me about how women could fight like men here at the ends of the world. That a girl managed to carve out a kingdom for herself with just her sword and even led armies into battle. I am doubtful of that now. Don't know why I ever believed it in the first place really."
"It might be true."
Martha turned to face him. "What was that Markus?"
"I said it might be true. I was hanging out with some guys today. We watched a girl using some archery posts for practice. She was really good. I think almost every shot landed somewhere on the target. I could ask the guys for you. To see if they know a way for a girl to start picking up some practice."
"You would do that for me?" Martha asked. "I know you don't like being around people most of the time."
"Of course."
Martha laughed a quiet bitter laugh. "What a sight I must be. Comforted by my younger brother. Normally I'm the one cheering you up."
Markus scratched the back of his neck. "I mean if you don't want help…"
Martha was quick to respond. "Thank you for offering. If you can find out anything it would set my mind at ease. Could you give me a minute though. I need to make myself presentable to Mother.
Markus nodded. Martha dipped back into their room. A few minutes later she emerged looking like her normal cheerful self. They walked down the warm stone hallway together.
Well this one got away from me so I put it into a spoiler so people don't have to scroll past it constantly. All in all I enjoyed writing this piece. If you have critiques please share them with me as they help me become a better writer.
[*] The We, to check on how they're settling in to the new arrangement.
[*] Wilhelmina, to see how she's going when she's not a terrifying financial juggernaut.
[*] Oswald Oswaldson, newly-minted Chief Bombardier of the Undumgi.
[*] Roswita, as she campaigns through Hunger Wood.
To the surprise of her subjects, the Elector Countess is once more in residence in Eagle Castle, and it takes an examination of the news from the EIC to understand why. Hunger Wood is being constantly patrolled by the Second Division, Tempelhof is firmly under the control of the Black Guard of Morr, and the First, Third and Fourth Divisions are garrisoned in Pfaffbach, Eisigfurt and Regrakhof respectively. The final openly-operating Vampires in Sylvania are hemmed in on all sides. To an amateur eye, it makes no sense that the campaign would be put on hold right when victory seems so close. But it makes perfect sense to those who know a little more about war against practitioners of necromancy.
"Sieges are supposed to be a science," Roswita says, frustration thick in her voice as she stares down at a map of the County of Waldenhof. "Food, water, defenders. Circumvallate and wait. They either surrender, or they get slaughtered by their own populace for not surrendering. But that doesn't apply here, not against them. Suffering strengthens them. Casualties reinforce them. They would grow stronger while a besieging force grows weaker."
You nod sympathetically, running your eye over the map. Judging by the force estimates, the forces of Mihnea in Mikalsdorf has suffered a great deal of casualties since you made off with a handful of his magical trinkets, while Ioana in Waldenhof has had her forces grow, possibly as a direct result. "Stockpiling, then?" The Army of Stirland grew dramatically in its number of cannon thanks to Anton's actions during the Purge of the Haunted Hills, but it's no simple thing to supply gunpowder to that many hungry guns.
"And starving them in the meantime. Metaphorically, of course. 'Of the known Bloodlines, only the Strigoi are content with subsistence; the rest are dependent upon the existing economies of the Empire to supply their needs. The Von Carsteins seek to act as a Nation-State, and have the expenses to match. The Lahmians move within the upper strata of society, and rely upon money to smooth their way. The Necrarchs are forever hungry for new specimens, old tomes, and fragments of Wyrdstone to fuel their experiments. And the Blood Dragons are forever in need of replacements for their arms and armour, and demand the highest quality.'"
It has the ring of quotation to it, but you don't recognize the words. "Who said that?"
She hesitates, a touch of pink coming to her cheeks. "I did," she says at last. "I was writing a dissertation on it for the Order before all this."
You smile as a few things make sense. "Your Steward, the exciseman. You've been putting the theory to practice."
She nods, but there's a stiffness to her expression as she does. "It worked. Better than I expected."
"Alkharad." She nods. "You weren't just cutting off his hobby materials. You inadvertently undermined his entire project in Teufelheim."
She nods. "Until we examined his books, I had assumed it was Vampiric megalomania, an overreaction to an inconvenience. But judging by the prices he was being forced to pay for the luxuries that must have been going towards..." She glances around the room. "The others involved in the project, we were hitting him hard and costing him dearly." The personal meeting room of the Elector Countess of Stirland is possibly the most secure place in the province, but the Templars of Sigmar are almost as thorough at inculcating paranoia as the Grey College. "So now we apply the same to those two Lahmians."
You frown and try to recall. There was a time when you could recite the Gazetteer of Greater Stirland from memory, but nowadays that same part of your brain was occupied with more southerly concerns. But Hel Fenn on the map jogs your memory. "Peat," you say. While burned as fuel in some places, most of it ended up in Nuln or the Karaks, where it would be subject to a careful process that, if done correctly, would transform it into peat-coal, a substance that burns as hot and clean as the finest charcoal, but for significantly longer by volume. "Who's buying?"
"The roads are ours, but the Stir is not so easily blockaded. The Margravine of Essen has already been pressured by the Chancellor of Hertwig, as he has no desire to see all the hard work in the Dead Wood go to waste, and I know they're not coming as far downriver as Wurtbad. But that still leaves four major cities on the other side of the Stir. So the current battlefield is in Talabeclander courts, not Sylvanian moors." You grimace in sympathy. "Still, if I am defeated there, it will be because they expended some of their dwindling resources on bribes. By the time that plays out, I'll have stockpiled enough gunpowder for us to march on Mikalsdorf and resolve the siege through bombardment instead of starving them out."
You nod thoughtfully. "Even then, you must be cautious," you say, in the tone of one imparting sage advice. "The walls of Mikalsdorf will be able to withstand cannonfire better than you might expect, as it is certain that the Vampire will rampire."
By the time your words register you're already out the door and halfway through the corridor, but her sigh is still clearly audible, and you can't keep yourself from giggling all the way to your next meeting.
---
When you arrive at your scheduled meeting to catch up with Wilhelmina, you're surprised to see a second person waiting for you, and doubly surprised that it's a girl of perhaps eight, dark hair in a neat ponytail and her simple yellow dress only slightly marred by inkstains. "Mathilde," Wilhelmina says, "I'd like to introduce you to my granddaughter, Eike Hochschild."
You conceal your surprise with long practice and give the girl a short bow. "Good day, Miss Eike."
The girl has an expression of intense concentration on her face as she curtsies. "At your service..." Then she frowns and closes her eyes as she mumbles to herself, then she turns and looks up at Wilhelmina beseechingly.
"Context, Eike," Wilhelmina says gently. "She is here as a partner in the EIC, so her title in Stirland is foremost."
"At your service, Dame Weber!" She says in a rush, as if trying to catch up.
"Good girl. Go help Reinecke with the filing."
As the girl patters away at a pace just short of a jog, you give Wilhelmina a searching look. "Didn't think you'd take a second run at motherhood."
She takes a seat at the table and you follow suit. "Me neither. After I decided against snatching up Anton for myself, I'd resigned myself to the EIC passing on to him and you and Stirland when I passed. But sometimes, the Gods provide."
"And I didn't know you were a grandmother."
"Neither did I, until just recently. Her mother was apparently the kept woman of my third son. They fell out and she moved on to a new patron, with Eike on the way. Last year she was caught in a pox outbreak in Nuln, and with the scars she got, she didn't have any beauty left to sell. She came to my son looking for an arrangement, and did so in public, and it was the talk of the town for weeks when he rebuffed her. I had her brought to me, and sent her on her way with some money and no Eike."
"You bought her?" you ask, keeping your voice neutral.
She nods once, not a trace of shame on her face. "If she'd said no to my offer, I'd have set her and Eike up in a house here in Wurtbad. But she didn't. Maybe she thought Eike would be better off with me, or maybe she was fine with the idea of selling her own flesh and blood. I don't know her well enough to judge."
"You're sure she's your son's?"
She shrugs. "As sure as anyone can be in such matters. She's got my late husband's hair."
You consider the matter, and decide to let it rest there. Not the most conventional arrangement, but hopefully the girl would grow up to be better than her father and uncles. So you move on to receiving and processing the usual stack of accumulated information from the past year, as well as getting Wilhelmina's take on it all at the same time. News here in Stirland matches what you heard from Roswita, and Karag Nar continues to be in sky-high spirits with no trace of any problems brewing. The information the EIC is absorbing from further afield makes it clear that the major gossip in this part of the Empire is about canals - specifically, the one being built by Ostermark and Karak Kadrin to bridge the Stir and the Talabec.
"Still no firm date of completion," Wilhelmina says as she broods over a river map with the future link marked. "Anyone else, I'd be sure that they'd get sick of it or run out of money, but Dwarves don't do either of those. At this point it looks like there's no major obstacles left. Talabecland got burned trying to disrupt the canal, now they're just hoping to ride it out as best they can."
"They've gotten complacent from only having Stirland to compete with on the Stir," you say thoughtfully, "hence their gambit, I suppose. I doubt anyone else will try anything. Most Stir traders - us included - are looking forward to cheaper access to Ostermark, Ostland, and Kislev, which should more than outweigh the cost of added competition."
"And with all eyes there, nobody's paying attention to the real game-changer in the Aver Reach."
"Except us."
Wilhelmina grins. "Except us. My next target is an old acquaintance of yours - Count Maksim von Stolpe of Leicheberg."
- Writing on the remainder of the social turn will resume tomorrow.
You nod thoughtfully. "Even then, you must be cautious," you say, in the tone of one imparting sage advice. "The walls of Mikalsdorf will be able to withstand cannonfire better than you might expect, as it is certain that the Vampire will rampire."
By the time your words register you're already out the door and halfway through the corridor, but her sigh is still clearly audible, and you can't keep yourself from giggling all the way to your next meeting.
And once again I'm reminded that if things had gone differently then we might have been her stepmother. Well, we shall make dad jokes in the absence of her dearly missed father.
Hm... Hmmmm... I reckon Wilhelmina is grooming an heir in the absence of a proper one among her trueborn sons. She's a polite little one as well, and seemingly quite bright as it would seem that she knows Mathilde has several titles to call upon. I think she'll be a good fit.
This is exactly what i was hoping might eventually happen with Wilhelmina, hope it works out well and she can know she has a good inheritor for her legacy.
The Roswita bit added even smaller things of interest than my already low expectations. Hazards of meme runoff I guess.
I assume Wilhelmina is trying to both prove to herself that she can raise a 'good' kid and also raise her protege into whatever she deems an ideal business mogul. Heartache and loneliness too, since aside from a busy Anton (who she's probably distancing from due to the marriage thing) she no longer has any close friends left in Stirland.
Not really a bullet point summary but Roswita has been running a war against the Vampires pretty much since we left. After the assassination of Alkharad (which we performed along with the destruction of the Necromancers College) and we turned over the ledges of who traded with Alkharad, Roswita has realized that War is just Economics.
While a traditional siege is out (they'll just raid and raise the blockading forces), she's performing an economic blockade and starving the Vampires out that way. Any resources they can get their hands on they'll have to pay though the nose for and will come through smugglers.
Roswita is listing the different vampire groups in her own quote about Vampire reliance on outside supplies.
Edit: Ah. You're referring to the conversation with Wilhelmina. My bad.
Yet again the Roswita/Mathilde dynamic is really fun.
I want to help her out again next turn, maybe just one action or something.
Eight peaks is pretty quiet and some action would be nice.
With Wilhelmina, there are several canal projects going on, so there's no wonder they're confusing.
There's one canal project on what I believe is the River Blut, which will connect to Karak Kadrin (Slayer keep)
And another that will expand and widen Aver Reach (going by Eicheschatten and the Bylorhof Marsh) and breaking the Worlds Edge mountain into Black Water lake. This will essentially give West and Central Stirland a path directly past Barak Varr and give a quicker (but not safer) direct naval path down to Tilea and Araby.
This latter project will bypass Marienburg completely and break up their monopoly on all naval trade going past.
On a separate note, this will also connect Karag Eight Peaks to the Empire navally. We will see a lot more goods and immigrants once that happens.
Edit: Oh, and Maksim von Stolpe was the one whose brother we and Abelheim killed for working with the Vampires. If I remember right, he was very happy with this fact, and also for the increased military presence.
When the time comes, we'll have to check up on the girl every now and then. Considering how greedy and reckless Wilhemina's sons are, at least one of them will probably try to kill the kid. Assuming, of course, that her upbringing isn't botched and she doesn't become just as bad.
