"Very well." Thorek sighs. "The leaders of the Runesmiths Guild of Karag Dum call themselves 'Runemasters'."
You contemplate that as you look at Thorek's grave expression. "That's it?"
"'Runelord' is the title Thungni bestowed upon the son that succeeded Him when He departed," he explains patiently. "Those that oppose Karag Dum's Runesmiths say that to declare that insufficient is to say that they have reached heights that one taught by Thungni Himself could not reach."
"So it's something of a religious schism."
Prideful, which is quite the mess in its own right, but where I suspect Thungni wouldn't disapprove much, the tradition bound Karaz Ankor would be on the brink of schism.
Seems the Eight Peaks current situation isn't exactly unique huh?
"And a Clan feud, and a Guild dispute. That is the foundation of the conflict, but not the climax of it. In the Runesmith Conclave of 6769, the last that Karag Dum attended, they announced that Chaos was waxing and that all efforts needed to be spent preparing to withstand it. This was taken poorly, seen as an attempt for Karag Dum to increase their status. Karag Dum has always been focused entirely on the threat of Chaos and has always called for more efforts spent to oppose it, so this was seen as their usual rhetoric, only more so."
You make the mental conversion to the Imperial Calendar - 2246 - and you're pretty sure you know where this is going. "But it wasn't. They were right."
The old story. Crying wolf, as seen by the Karaz Ankor.
Probably happens a fair bit, to be fair. Dwarves being dwarves you could rely on them to keep on retrying their personal hot topic every conclave and for those who have chosen to ignore it the first time round to ignore it the second time round.
Thorek sighs. "It is easy to see that now. But from what I've been told - and it seems to be true - that century was a tumultuous time in the Old World. High King Alrik had died in battle at the Battle of Black Falls, Bretonnia was tearing itself apart over succession, humans marched on Nehekhara time and time again and agitated the Tomb Kings into a great deal of activity beyond their borders. Worst of all, at the time of the Conclave Ulthuan's forces were on the march in the Old World. In the face of all that, it seemed very self-serving for Karag Dum to announce that it was Chaos that was the real threat. A great deal was said in hot blood, every word of it recorded for posterity."
"What were the Elves doing?"
"Pursuing the Beastman demigod Cor-Dum, but that was not known at the time. The Phoenix King Finubar was still new to the throne, and many Dwarves suspected the worst when his forces made landfall in the Old World."
"So when the Great War Against Chaos proved Karag Dum right..."
"Influential and ambitious Runelords had their words against Karag Dum indelibly recorded. If they had taken the warnings seriously, and fifty years had been spent exerting all effort of the Karaz Ankor to prepare against the coming storm..." Thorek shrugs. "Perhaps the High King would not have fallen. Perhaps Karak Vlag and Karag Dum would not have been lost. Perhaps the Norse Dwarves would not have fallen. Perhaps the Silver Age would not have ended. Anyone that accepted that burden upon their shoulders would have no choice but to shave their head and seek their Doom. But they have not. I did not ask why not, but they answered the unasked question anyway, and what they gave me was not justification, but accusation."
You think back to all the dark warnings you've heard about Karag Dum. "Argumentum ad, er, Dawinem. You can't be blamed for ignoring a warning if the messenger could not be trusted."
I don't think they COULD have survived accepting that Karag Dum was right - that many prominent Runelords going Slayer in atonement would have been a deathblow to the Karaz Ankor
Thorek nods. "In my recent travels, I've heard a lot of accusations levelled at Karag Dum. Unstable. Unreliable. Undwarflike. Spent too long too close to Chaos, closer even than the Fire Dwarves were when they fell. Karak Kadrin was once brother to Karag Dum - the former dedicated to Grimnir the Slayer, the latter to Grimnir the Foe of Chaos - but all but the eldest there now half-believe this new truth." He sighs and scratches at his beard, and for a moment he seems very tired. "I don't know any of this for sure, or I'd already be levelling accusations and tearing the Guild asunder. But what I do know indicates that that's how it stands."
I *think* we're safe to recruit Runesmiths, but only from Azul then, having been isolated and unable to be tainted. Or a Karak Kadrin runelord.
After a great deal of internal back-and-forth, you've decided to burn most of your accumulated favour with the Colleges by commissioning as mighty an enchantment as you possibly can from the Bright College: an item emulating the spell Breath Fire, only much more so. Enchantments aren't usually scalable like that, but one notable exception is when asking Aqshy to make fire.
Months later you travel to collect it from the Enchanter, Magister Wolfgang Scheunacht, a neatly-dressed and well-groomed young Magister with black hair and a fresh-looking burn stretching from his eyepatch to his neck. "Magister Weber," he says with an easy smile. "Allow me to introduce you to what might be my finest work yet." With hands covered in neat leather gloves, he presents you with a flask covered in red scales with a brass topper. "The flask is imitation dragonskin, from a local curio shop - it's the inner workings that do the magic. Fill it with something flammable, spirits for preference but in a pinch lamp oil or animal fat will do, and leave it over a fire hot enough to melt lead for a day. The scales will turn red when it's ready - they're normally black. To activate, drink the contents in a gulp - it's less than it looks, the inner workings take up much of the volume - and point your face in the direction of whatever it is that you so strongly disapprove of."
Thats a fairly convenient setup to recharge.
"Any residual Aqshy?" you ask, turning it over in your hands.
"As long as you give it a few minutes before doing any verbal spellcasting, none to speak of. Oh, but do refrain from drinking anything magically-active for at least twelve hours after using it."
No big deal then.
Shouldn't be too hard to silent cast Invisibility or Shadowsteed and skedaddle
You look up at him, and the angry red scar marring what would otherwise be a handsome face. "Is that burn from the enchantment?" you ask.
"The process of creating it, yes," he says breezily. "It's of no matter, normal hazard of the Wind, and a small price to pay for the opportunities that so much goodwill will afford me."
Enchanting miscast huh?
You take it out to a cratered clearing almost entirely free of vegetation near Altdorf that the Colleges own collectively to put it through its paces, brace yourself, hold the arm that has the Seed in it behind your back just in case, and drink. The taste is both painful and confusing, as if your tongue can't decide if it's unbearably spicy or more conventionally boiling but does know it doesn't like it, but it seems to evaporate before it hits your stomach. You stand confused for a moment until a sensation very like an oncoming sneeze starts to build, and you do your best to aim your face as the charred tree stump you'd decided on as a target before you unleash whatever's trying to happen. With a sound like a reverberating bark, Aqshy explodes from your mouth and nostrils, and you're momentarily blinded as the world before you transforms into fire.
After you collect yourself, you examine the site of the former stump as best you can as you wipe your streaming eyes and brush pieces of ash from your scorched eyebrows. Everything above the ground and several inches below it was apparently transformed into splinters and send directly away from you at a substantial speed, and the field beyond is peppered with small, smouldering craters. A crunch underfoot reveals that wood wasn't the only victim, as some of the soil surrounding the stump was apparently vitrified and shattered by the heat and force of the blast. It's certainly effective, but as you blow your nose and consider the soot it leaves in your handkerchief, you think you might have been better served if you had specified something more self-contained.
Thats certainly devastatingly effective. Most things that aren't hero level durable SHOULD be adequately dealt with.
...wonder if the taste could be improved by varying the liquid used
"The end is in sight," Belegar says wearily. "The gleam of ore at the end of the tunnel."
"Our Clans have banded together to keep from giving the Okral any excuse to start trouble," Edda says soothingly. "It's brought them together. I don't want to say 'common enemy', but..."
"Common affliction," you say, and Edda smiles and nods.
As many a bootcamp made use of - no better way to breed unity than having a common affliction.
Though I hope it doesn't become a second Karag Dum situation.
"I think the dragon has the Okral off balance," Kazrik chimes in. "It's one thing for them to be told it's around, it's another for it to fly overhead every so often."
Okral: "AAAAA"
Cython: "Helping!"
K8P Dwarves: "The Drakk is strange and dangerous, but its funny to see the Okral react like that. Keep a good poker face on guys. Look like you see this sort of thing every day."
K8P Humans: "Dragon carvings! Get yer Dragon Carvins Today!"
"Everything okay on that front?" Belegar asks you.
"It's never encountered Dwarves directly before, it's borrowed some reading material to get to know a bit more about you." You figure that's a better way to put it than to let it be known that it's trying to draw direct links between the Ancestor-Gods and the Elven deities.
Its a dragon of culture.
"It's not acting like any dragon I've ever heard stories of," Dreng says, sounding a little put out.
"It's a Hysh dragon," you say, to blank looks. Right, Dwarves. "To channel a Wind, a being has to cultivate a mindset that aligns with it. For example, fire dragons channel Aqshy, the Wind of Fire, which makes them impulsive and temperamental. Hysh, the Wind of Light which Cython channels, requires a calm and thoughtful mental state."
"The dragon has the personality of a priest, basically."
"And yours?" Kazrik asks curiously.
Deception, skulduggery, and plots. "A focus on ambiguities, mystery, and the unexpected," you say instead, and Kazrik nods thoughtfully.
Kazrik: "Ah, yes, the unexpected is certainly a specialty of the Loremaster"
"Since we now know for sure that Birdmuncha is dead, I've had my Rangers prodding Karak Drazh to get the name of their new Warboss. Apparently they now answer to Warboss Gorfang the Hungry, which according to captured Skaven intelligence," he pauses as he grimaces at the thought, "was the Big Boss in charge of the Red Fang's Underway front before the Battle of the Caldera."
"Hopefully the experience has taught him to be wary of the Dwarves," Belegar says, to a chorus of approval. "In six months time, we'll be opening a new chapter in this Karak's history, and I intend it to be one of prosperity and growth."
Gorfang the Hungry, IIRC wasn't a very subtle sort, pouring orcs down a tunnel into certain death without stopping.
On the other hand he could certainly pour a LOT of orc.
[ ] EIC: Have the Hochlander set up a shadow headquarters for the EIC in the Sunken Palace. (NEW)
[ ] EIC: Have the Hochlander set up a shadow headquarters for the EIC in your fief. (NEW)
Oh hey, whats this do?
Our fief would increase traffic, with both good and bad, but it'd not be all that subtle.
The Sunken Palace is near their usual operations enough that someone could just vanish off the side.
[ ] EIC: Expand the EIC's paramilitary river navy. (NEW)
[ ] EIC: Improve the EIC's paramilitary river navy. (NEW)
Expand would be getting more warships to escort the barges I think, but that'd eat into the margins pretty bad.
Improve should probably start with upping equipment and possibly training some sailors as full time marines, not as hot a deterrent, but I dare say a few more Repeaters on board would be a simple up front cost well enough.