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Is it the same for the first secret?
The First Secret is about how to use Dhar safely. Which would tend to involve using Dhar.

And is there anything else in there useful for dispelling?
We get a +20 to Counterspelling Necromancers. But that's about a spell being cast, not a spell actively going.

(We were also warned by Boney that publishing the counterspelling knowledge could lead to Necromancers fixing the issues that give us the +20)
 
The first secret is 'this is how you use Dhar good', so presumably it also uses Dhar, yes.
Okay, yeah rereading the 'how to turn Dhar against itself' thing seems to say the secrets are only good for counterspelling if you are also using Dhar. and presumably the other bonus is purely due to understanding the spells Necromancers are casting.

retracting a statement.
 
I will strongly support Duckling actions on him in the future that involve supporting him in some practical way, though.

My worry is that practical option isn't going to come unless we do something about it to give him any form of direction. As far as I'm concerned he needs a kick in the pants and a pep talk that amounts to "Hey how about doing literally anything wizard like." It's not a glamorous AP spend, but I think it's necessary.

We've hit the temporary smooth sailing zone in our surroundings for the most part, and have an entire other contingent of shitkickers here from KaK to dissuade anything else from happening. It's not super likely some Giant Event is going to happen that sparks his growth naturally.

Even if some earth shattering thing does happen, he's been at K8Ps for nearly three years and his duckling report, as I recall, each time has been like "I done did a sword!"

I dunno bout other people, but I took his whole 'I've been cozying up with the insular wolf bros and doing more SWORD and PRAY. I guess I'll stay for now' report as Boney showing us a loaded gun and letting us decide whether we want to be shot with it or do something about it.

I reckon if we don't do anything with him soon he'll probably leave. Maybe we eventually get a new duckling, maybe not. Might be off base but that's what my gut says. :V

I wouldn't be particularly upset if he did leave, given he's been comparatively bland at the moment vs his peers, but it'd be a shame to have him meander off into some Ulric commune, perpetual apprenticeship or even worse having a Celestial actually latch on to him and inspire him to become a proper sky gazer to match the Celestial Ideal.

Probably more words than the topic merits, but I'm waiting on a lasagna to come out of the oven and have nothing else to think about at the moment haha.
 
High Queekish is the Skaven equivalent of our own magical language. It is also exclusive to the Skaven, and is considered the tongue by which one offers prayers and invokes the Horned Rat.

What are the odds that, by teaching it to us, we will trigger some alarm, either from the Horned Rat or his priests, as to what is going on? What if the Horned Rat, by default, hears everything that is spoken in that tongue?

My recommendation for preparations is thus: Find a way to completely block out divine influences. Should be at least theoretically manageable with our skillset, just...something that will take a great deal of time and effort. And also make the various churches quite worried, should they learn of it.
 
I think people are fundamentally misreading Johan's character. You don't guild most of your body if you're not somewhat ambitious. Right now Johan isn't able to do much of anything at all for six months straight. Giving him something productive to work towards and focus on is much better for his mental health than telling him he's useless and needs to do nothing for six months straight.

Besides, if it doesn't work out then we're hardly hurting Johan or trying to overwork him. Think about how this turn looks in Johan's shoes: He's got a massive debuff to his rolls and most of his options aren't available. Mathilde giving him the Windsight project for the turn gives Johan an AP sink that hr can make use of. If he's just not feeling it, he might only put one AP into it and the rest into trying to recover. But if he's feeling ip for it it gives him something he might get good results from out of this turn, and if it goes really well it might possibly help him in his second attempt at gilding his eyes.

[X] Alliterate

Borrowing your approval list, @Alliterate. Thanks! :smile:
The QM has stated that you are wrong:
Would a write-in action along the lines of:

[ ] Johann: Spend the time you'd normally use to collaborate with him on a project to instead help him relax and take things easy.

Be appreciably different in any way from the provided "Let him relax" default option? Some people have been arguing that he'd feel "abandoned" by Mathilde if we didn't spend time with him.
No.
Voting for Johann to try to relax and be happy is voting for Johann to try to relax and be happy. He's not an idiot. He doesn't need Mathilde to order him to think. He knows how to relax and be happy.
 
Why no linguists? I feel that linguists would have been most useful for, well, studying the language and decoding words we didn't know. But we have all the vocabulary we could find, and I do not think that a single AP right at the end of the project would accomplish much, given that they'd need to get up to speed on Queekish before they could help us with the lexicons. Our library bonus to Linguistics is +11; I think we'll be fine.
I've already raised this prior but apparently the focus is only on Johann but:
-Why linguists?
--You want linguists to make a teaching guide. Knowing a language is vastly different from being qualified to teach it. Linguists help with working out how best to convey teaching it. Without linguists what we have is a dictionary, it has words = words. But a dictionary is not a translation guide, there are linguistic structure rules to factor in, turns of phrase and metaphor which would collapse if you aren't an Ulgu twisty-logic wizard with a genius level intellect. This is especially important when you're working with recovered letters and such which are already missing context, and you need every bit of reference that could fit.
--The option is there. It suggests Mathilde doesn't consider it a wasted action. Which is obvious, because we're talking about a six month span, and it costs 1 AP, one month of dedicated work from the linguists. We consult with linguists in January and write the dictionary over May and June, "right at the end of the project" is grossly misleading.
 
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I got a very different message from that post.
The message that I got is that voting for "Let Johann relax and be happy" is exactly the same as "Find a project for Johann to work on to help him relax". If your primary goal for a project is to help him relax, tell him to relax first and you'll be happy if he gets something done but relaxing takes priority. If your primary goal for a project is for him to get something done, vote for him to get something done and you'll be happy if he can relax but getting something done takes priority. The message you're sending him is important.

Frankly, the fact that we'd be letting him relax instead of telling him to relax should say everything there is to say. We can trust Johann to know how to relax, and his approach to relaxation means requires that we let him relax by not giving him a project.
 
Its not like he's going to have any options other than that, he's blinded after all, if he wants something to do he'd need help doing it. Either way we choose for him
 
Regarding the linguists, are we expecting them to help both dictionaries, or only the Reikspiel one? It seems odd that we'd get the Empire's linguists to help with organizing things in Khazalid.
 
Upon further thought, it feels like the current leading plan (Snek,Spider,Squeak) is puts less priority on finishing Queekish translation in comprehensive manner. We already decided to finish it properly by doing both Reikspiel & Khazalid lexicons over 2 turns rather than breezing through it. Why not bring linguists so it can be done in a concise manner? It's supposed to be a groundbreaking work that can be considered for Lord Magister promotion and I don't want to half-ass it if the reason is only because we're frustrated by AP Hell and want to move on to other research.
 
Upon further thought, it feels like the current leading plan (Snek,Spider,Squeak) is puts less priority on finishing Queekish translation in comprehensive manner. We already decided to finish it properly by doing both Reikspiel & Khazalid lexicons over 2 turns rather than breezing through it. Why not bring linguists so it can be done in a concise manner? It's supposed to be a groundbreaking work that can be considered for Lord Magister promotion and I don't want to half-ass it if the reason is only because we're frustrated by AP Hell and want to move on to other research.
Well, the decision to do it over two turns rather than one was less rooted in "finishing it properly" than in AP management; it lets us gain a personal AP this turn at the cost of a Serenity AP next turn.

My major reason for not bringing in linguists is that I just don't expect them to deliver meaningfully better results than we would get otherwise. This is something I firmly believe that we have the tools to do a really good job on ourself; it's not a decision I made out of AP hell considerations, it's a decision I made out of efficiency considerations. I really, sincerely do not believe Mathilde is half-assing it by not bringing in linguists any more than she half-assed the Eye of Gazul by not building all the defense towers she could.
 
My major reason for not bringing in linguists is that I just don't expect them to deliver meaningfully better results than we would get otherwise. This is something I firmly believe that we have the tools to do a really good job on ourself; it's not a decision I made out of AP hell considerations, it's a decision I made out of efficiency considerations. I really, sincerely do not believe Mathilde is half-assing it by not bringing in linguists any more than she half-assed the Eye of Gazul by not building all the defense towers she could.

I kind of find that dubious. Mathilde isn't actually, like, a particularly good author. We no longer have an outright mechanical penalty, at least, but even with Max's help I think that we might run into some issues trying to create an entirely lexicon from scratch.

This is especially true without even putting the coin on it to ameliorate especially bad rolls - screwing up and making a basic mistake because neither Max nor Mathilde are professional linguists is absolutely in the cards - especially since Khazalid isn't either the first language of either of them.
 
I kind of find that dubious. Mathilde isn't actually, like, a particularly good author. We no longer have an outright mechanical penalty, at least, but even with Max's help I think that we might run into some issues trying to create an entirely lexicon from scratch.

This is especially true without even putting the coin on it to ameliorate especially bad rolls - screwing up and making a basic mistake because neither Max nor Mathilde are professional linguists is absolutely in the cards - especially since Khazalid isn't either the first language of either of them.
The reason I'm skeptical about this is that last turn, none of the major "forget Spoken Queekish, wrap up the dictionaries and move on" plans took the linguist action: not yours, not BeepSmile's, not Valmond's. And those plans got a lot of support! So I feel like this is an invented problem, that the thread got a bee in its bonnet and is talking itself into worrying about a nonissue, rather than it being an obviously clear weakness.

Mathilde has a very high Learning and a large library bonus towards Linguistics; she has been studying the subject for some time and has a lot of example material to base her own work off. I do not think we will get a penalty to writing this for a lack of professional training, and even if we did, I think that the very worst-case scenario is that the book is Impenetrable, and that outcome is just... not very bad. So I'm just not concerned; if the very worst-case scenario is "mediocre" and it gets better from there, you're in great shape.
 
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For writing the book this turn, we have multiple bonuses stacked up: Mathilde's learning, Max's learning, the Serenity tower, Max's dictation trait, all our notes, a huge linguistics library, and two AP on the book rather than just one. Yes, we might still roll very badly and fail, but that's less likely with the dictionary than with any other action this turn.

As for hiring linguists, I'l note that since they're Empire linguists chances are they'd have to learn Khazalid and Queekish before they can help us.
 
I want the linguistic help simply because this is quite possibly the thing that could have the biggest impact Mathilde can do. I want it as good as possible so we can see the butterflies go as far as we can.
 
The reason I'm skeptical about this is that last turn, none of the major "forget Spoken Queekish, wrap up the dictionaries and move on" plans took the linguist action: not yours, not BeepSmile's, not Valmond's. And those plans got a lot of support!

Sure, but I had the Gambler on dictation to mitigate a fair chunk of the risk, and had less focus on the Lexicons in general. Given that we ended up spending extra time on them, I'd especially like to see good results.

Frankly, for all the discussion about Johann that kept cropping up today, not putting the Coin on dictation is probably my single biggest issue with your plan.
 
Sure, but I had the Gambler on dictation to mitigate a fair chunk of the risk, and had less focus on the Lexicons in general. Given that we ended up spending extra time on them, I'd especially like to see good results.

Frankly, for all the discussion about Johann that kept cropping up today, not putting the Coin on dictation is probably my single biggest issue with your plan.
That makes sense, but ultimately I feel that the worst-case scenario for the books is significantly less bad than the worst-case scenario for the EIC, and the average-case scenario for the books is already really good, so it felt to me like the Coin belonged in risk mitigation rather than in win-more.

(If you have a different subjective probability assessment of the worst or average cases, of course, you will have a different take.)
 
Went and picked through the College defenses on a lark, took HOURS:
-Amethyst
--Entrance is achieved through portals in a temple/cemetery of Morr.
--Passive defense involves an aura of terror, though you can't actually get anywhere in the College without being able to persuade the portal to let you into the College.
--No named feat in the Siege of the Colleges

-Light
--Entrance is achieved through dimensional portals triggered through certain ritual pass-phrases.
--Passive defense involves directional, possibly dimensional disorientation.
--No named feat in the Siege of the Colleges

-Bright
--Entrance is achieved through an Ulgu illusion masking the college as a burnt out ruin. Also the brass gate is flaming hot.
--Passive defenses not shown directly, but the ruins around the College are still smouldering and likely will catch fire on demand. And the college itself is on fire.
--Siege of the Colleges left the Bright College surrounded by a burnt out ruin.

-Grey
--Entrance is a maze of secret passages, throughout Altdorf
--Passive defenses include some form of spatial warping, illusions and sentries.
--Siege of the Colleges had the College just become impossible to find. Also they stole Ghal Maraz.

-Celestial
--Entrance is a fairly plain door.
--Passive defenses includes blocking the ability to look at the College, and a ramping probability manipulation field which can get 'drastic'.
--No named feat in the Siege of the Colleges

-Gold
--Entrance is a regular building
--No overt passive defenses, but the College itself can on demand, transform and roll out as a fortification complete with moat and probably death dealing devices.
--No named feat in the Siege of the Colleges

The Jade and Amber Colleges in the city proper had yet to be mentioned on screen, but I reckon that since their true base of operations are OUTSIDE the city, good luck even finding druids in the woods.


Did I miss any?
Sources
The Amethyst College overlooks the vast cemetery of Old Altdorf, and you spend some time taking in the sight. The cemetery is filled primarily with victims of the Red Pox, a terrible cousin to the Black Death that so shaped Sylvania's history, and you wonder at that. Was it chosen because a cemetery is a cemetery, or was there some deeper meaning? The Red Pox was before the Orders were founded, but if there was some magical underpinning to the Red Pox as some theorize there was for the Black Plague...

But that was irrelevant to the matter at hand. You turn to the open doors, and give them a long look. The magic woven into the portal - both in the poetic sense of the doorway, and in the literal sense of the actual portal that overlays it - is impossible for you to follow, densely woven and tucked in on itself again and again like a tapestry. The uninvited go one way, where they wander empty rooms filled with an aura of subtle terror until they either lose their nerve and run or are given an invitation to join the Amethyst Order. Members go another, into the actual College, where they can go about their work without interruption. For invited guests, however...
Contact with the Hierophants is a lot more difficult than ringing a bell. It takes you some time to track down even a trace of an idea of where to find them, and you're eventually directed to a maze of cities in the poorer part of town. The tale you were told speaks of standing at a certain point on a street corner and turning ninety degrees in six different ways; you opt for standing near that certain point and grabbing the first person that's glowing. That person, a young lad with a stutter, is told to bring his Master out to have a chat, he agrees nervously and scampers off into the bizarre dimensional knot on the street corner. You scowl at it.
The Bright College itself is set within an area of Altdorf that was burnt to the ground in some long-forgotten incident. Rumours of hauntings and inexplicable reignitions keeps it from being rebuilt as much as the laws saying it should be left as is, as a reminder of... of something. Evidently, it failed.

Ignoring the glimpses of movement from the corners of your eyes and refusing to investigate the occasionally smouldering remnants that make it seem as the fire burned hours instead of centuries ago, you push through the empty streets until you reach your destination - an collection of towers collapsed atop each other in otherwise empty plaza. You stare in thought at the illusion, seeing the familiar flow of Ulgu through it, and wonder at what long-past agreement or deal lead to its creation. Then you step through it, and flinch back from a wave of heat as you penetrate the illusion and instead find yourself at the brass gates of the college, glowing red with heat. Far above you, twenty-one identical towers stretch into the sky, each of them burning brightly. No illusion, this; such is the place that Pyromancers call home.
You'd come to Altdorf quite often in the past eight years, on business of one sort or another, but you haven't returned to the Grey College. There is only a single circumstance that can bring a journeying wizard back to their Alma Mater: their journeying coming to an end. You dismiss your horse and stride with confidence through the streets until you come to one of the poorest and most violent district Altdorf has, and without a moment's hesitation you continue, passing dingy taverns and faded advertisements dimly illuminated with tinted-red lights. In Altdorf, it is the rarest of muggers that would take their chances with a wizard, but in this district especially none would dare to interrupt the grey robes of a Shadowmancer. In the center of all of these shabby buildings filled with poverty and desperation lies a plain stone building, ancient and crumbling, with a single tower extending over it in such disrepair that all that would call it home is a family of pure-white owls. To most, it would be a ruin. To its neighbours, it is too terrible to acknowledge.

To you, it was home.

You push through the door and into the hallways revealed, lined with gargoyles and dust. You ignore doorways into empty rooms and duck under cobwebs as you walk with purpose but without direction, following the turns of the hallway as it appears to go on for far longer than the outside building would allow for, as unseen watchers train their gaze on you and decide whether to admit you to the inner sanctum, and finally you turn a corner and come face to face with a final set of doors that would not have been there if your admittance was not allowed. You push them open, and stand in the entrance hall of the Grey College, the center of a spiderweb of a hundred passages leading to a hundred hidden entrances throughout Altdorf.
Gyrocopters are not unknown in the Empire, but they are certainly rare enough to draw stares. When one lands in the poorest and most violent district Altdorf has to offer, that counts for double. You disembark to dozens of curious stares, but the colour of your habitual robes has all but the boldest quickly pretend to have been looking elsewhere. People in general know not to bother a Wizard going about their business, but people here learned very, very quickly that the Grey College that lurked in the dilapidated heart of the district was absolutely not to be bothered at all. Even when you start unloading your weight in silver, eyes remain firmly turned away, and a nearby street merchant selling fried meats of unidentifiable providence is offered a month's profit for the loan of his cart, and a swarm of street urchins and beggars are very careful not to get too close to you as they each gather armfuls of the now unwanted meats. As you wheel your weight in silver through the streets, you're entertained to see the same set of events play out on a dozen different faces: eyes alighting on an enormous stack of silver and widening in greed, then those same eyes spotting that a Grey Wizard was in possession of that silver, and that person freezes on the spot as self-preservation and greed go to war.

Self-preservation always wins. Those with more greed than sense have long since been weeded out of the neighbourhood.

The doors you wheel the cart through have not seen an overambitious thief in many years, though urchins on dares scamper in on a regular basis. Most emerge without incident after lingering long enough to show their bravery, a few meet Grey Wizards to make reports to their secret employers, and once in a while one will not be seen again - at least not until they've advanced enough in their Apprenticeship to be allowed out unsupervised. Each of the Colleges have their own way of calling to those who resonate with their Wind.

The normal way to gain access to the Grey College is to walk through the corridors in a maddening array of zig-zags in a path that seem to fold in on itself, but though Wizards love that sort of thing, sometimes practicality must win out. A storage closet near the door is home only to a single broom that has long surrendered its grip on its bristles, and you carefully wheel your cargo into it and close the door behind you. A few seconds later, you open the door again and wheel the cart out into the Grey College's storerooms, filled with all the mundane fuels required to run an institution: quills and inks, paper and papyrus, chalk and slate. Out the door, down the corridor, a few nods and exchanged greetings with those you pass. A few eyebrows are raised, but only just - yours might be a contender for the strangest cargo for the Grey College to receive this week, but only just.
Algard supplies the fundamentals, having researched the matter thoroughly in the creation of his own towers, and to build on that you are forced to subject yourself to the Celestials.

The College itself stands surprisingly close to the Imperial Palace and the Great Temple of Sigmar, but nobody notices it, protected as it is by an enormously overdone enchantment. The insistent mental suggestion that what you're seeking lies in any other direction bounces off a mind trained to wrestle with ambiguities and misdirection, and the magic gets more and more agitated as it realizes that you're not being dissuaded from looking directly at the sixteen slender towers it protects, and it starts tweaking fate more and more to try to obstruct you. A couple have a screaming argument right in front of you, which you ignore. A cart has a wheel fall off in just the right place, until you take three steps to the left. A sudden mist materializes, doing nothing to block your Magesight. A painter carrying a precariously large bucket of whitewash totters towards you, until your glare overrides the set of coincidences that had set him on a collision course with you and he carefully avoids you, and inadvertently avoids the loose cobble that had been firmly attached to the ground a moment ago. Finally, the bottom-left quarter of the square black door swings open and a peeved doorkeeper bustles over to ask your business before the enchantment starts getting drastic. You make no attempt to hide your pleased smirk, knowing the doorkeeper would have been just as smug if you had actually approached the door and triggered the prognostication charms that would have told him your business in advance.

Within the cobbled courtyard of the Celestial College you're no less disruptive to their little games, and with a mental exercise you were taught when you were eleven you hold firmly in your mind the thought that you have no idea where you're going, and just as a Perpetual appears around a corner with an arched eyebrow and directions on his tongue, you sweep right past him and continue on your way.
That doesn't mean you're going to do something silly like actually subject yourself to their ridiculous entrance ritual, so after you sent a firkin of fine Dwarven ale to Lord Magister Olenus in appreciation for his work on the MAP, you wait for your contact within a rather charming cafe near the nexus of power that the Light College is built upon. This part of Altdorf is noticeably cleaner than all but the wealthiest districts, mostly due to the College - they don't, of course, actually do cleaning themselves, but the protections of the Light College wreak particular havoc on the sense of direction of those without magic, and the Light Order spread a rumour that anyone particularly lost can improve their chances of finding their destination if they take a moment or two to see to the cleanliness of wherever they find themselves. Perhaps it's a sign of surprising cunning from the straight-laced Light Order, but you wouldn't put it past them to have actually worked that into their concealment.
You thank him, and he smiles, claps you on the shoulder, and turns ninety degrees vertically and vanishes from sight.
The Gold College is not just the wealthiest of the Colleges of Magic, but one of the wealthiest organizations in the entire Old World. The structure of the College itself is not hidden in any way, nestled into the corner of the city walls and the Reik for all to visit, or at least those wealthy enough to afford the products of modern alchemy, from pigments and dyes to medicines and poisons to magical elixirs. It might seem strange that the exterior of such a wealthy organization is so plain, boxy, and utilitarian. But as Altdorf learned during the fifteen-year siege of the Colleges during the reign of Deieter IV, the College being built beside and partially upon the Reik was not just to turn waterwheels and cool forges, as the low-lying streets that surround it were flooded by hidden sluices, turning the College into a formidable fortified position.

Incidental discovery:

Despite the lenses, it's still long and tedious work catching glimpses of the enchantment and mapping out its structure. Modern enchantment is like modern construction, the use of mostly interchangeable building blocks to uniformly achieve the desired result. This enchantment is like construction of the barbarian shaman's time - natural materials heaped together haphazardly. It's mostly Shyish, but here and there it seems that another wind crept into the shaman's casting, tainting patches of it with Dhar, but it's actually what makes the enchantment work at all - the Dhar binds all too readily with any kind of magic, but without other Winds to draw upon it can't corrupt the Shyish so it merely acts as a sort of glue to hold the entire thing together. But it would mean that if they were taken out of a Shyish-rich environment or the safety of the crates for too long, not only would the magic inside become Dhar, but the enchantment itself would become unstable.

The overall structure is something like a net. An empty net lies flat, but a full net is round. And like a net, it has more joins than you can count, each needing to be woven together with great concentration, and if even one was missing the contents could be lost. The mind boggles at the amount of care and attention it would take to make just one of these, let alone the dozens that you found in the burial mound. As an thaumato-archeological artifact its likely of interest, but as a piece of enchantment it really is far too much effort than it's worth. Sure, it is a clever design for the storage of magical energy that any apprentice could manage if given enough time but you could think of better ways to achieve the same result with only slightly more advanced techniques - and you could work in a filter so that it would only absorb the desired Wind.
So, funny thing: we accidentally ran across the First Secret of Dhar long ago, without realizing it and just kept walking past.

We also see here why Necromancy and the Lore of Stealth works - Dhar cannot corrupt a single pure Wind, it corrupts other Winds into Dhar by attracting and combining the other winds. This also explains why, despite the existence of two successful Dhar-wielding Tongs tradition, less dangerous Wind combinations are harder to achieve -> the moment you make a mistake the two Winds will form Dhar, and the Dhar will suck both the Winds into the Dhar to make more Dhar.

Sort of suggests if you're working with multiple winds you need an intermediate substance where they can both interact with without the winds touching each other at any point. OR superhuman precision.

Hmm...wonder how a Divine Lore intersects with winds. Ranald's Lore looks a lot like Ulgu + Azyr? Could Ulgu or Azyr touch Ranald's divine power without making Dhar?
 
The Jade and Amber Colleges in the city proper had yet to be mentioned on screen, but I reckon that since their true base of operations are OUTSIDE the city, good luck even finding druids in the woods.

The Jade College is inside Altdorf, built atop the local leyline confluence. It's only quest mention was very blink-and-you'll-miss-it.

when you visited the spiralling brick fortress of the Jade College
 
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