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Warhammer Fantasy: Divided Loyalties - an Advisor's Quest

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Are those Ice-Witch names-

*ninjas*

Apparently yes. Well, this is either a great or horrible sign, if the head-honcho herself is overseeing it personally.
 
Here's Ljiljana's actions from the first time we met her:
BoneyM said:
From youngest to eldest, they turn out to be Zlata, Milica, and Ljiljana, though only the first gives you a greeting in return, as the other two are occupied with their glaring and their eating respectively. "So," says Ljiljana through a mouthful of walnut, "you want us to shift the winter, I hear."
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BoneyM said:
Milica mutters something in Kislevarin, which gets her an elbow from Ljiljana. "That as may be, there's much good the Karzełki do for our people. That is what got you this meeting, while we play waiting games with Tzar Vladimir." She clucks her tongue thoughtfully. "Karag Dum. We have quite a spear from Karag Dum. It would be good for all if Karag Dum was not lost. Belyevobota... the Pass of White Dots, you'd call it."

"They call it High Pass," Věnceslava corrects, sitting perched on one of the armrests.

"Why do they do that, then?" Ljiljana asks. Milica comments something again, and evades the elbow from Ljiljana. "Imperinyi foolishness."

"It's the Dwarf name for it," Věnceslava says wearily.

"Oh. Well, it was their pass, they can call it what they wish," Ljiljana says with a decisive nod. "This pass, it is..." she hesitates, "it has not fallen to the Dewastacja of the Za, but it is grumpy to be surrounded by it. It will be difficult. But possible, yha. When do you need it clear?"
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BoneyM said:
"We have considered this since we first heard from you," Ljiljana says. "There are a number of prices that are between we and the Karzełki, but there is one we will have from you. We have old business in the east, with our fallen cousins of the Kurgan. An item we want from one of their tribes that lives near this Karzełki tirsa of Karag Dum. We shall send someone with this Expedition who can find the tribe and the item, and you are to aid them, and you are to bring the item to us. Agree to this, and the Widow will shield the Karzełki from dying cold and hungry in the Raspotitsa."
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She has Give No Fucks energy. Kinda Granny Weatherwax-y, or maybe Gehenna. I like her. I think we'll get along.

EDIT: Glad we dodged Milica, who was kind of hostile.
 
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Oof, The Crone.
She'll know her stuff, but she'll also be stubborn as hell. Her way or not at all.
 
Yeah, but the oldest one is likely to be the most knowledgable and powerful. As BoneyM generally does, I figure the higher the number, the overall better for us. And besides it was a four on the roll....
 
picklepikkl said:
She has Give No Fucks energy. Kinda Granny Weatherwax-y, or maybe Gehenna. I like her. I think we'll get along.
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Ya, I'm not as sure about that, 'Give no fucks energy 'is not the same as being easygoing. And she likely has the closest connection to the ice.

Light magic makes you curious and self righteous

Shadow: sneakily And a showmen

ice makes you a stone cold bitch. (Literally half of their arcane marks(divine marks?) make you crueler or emotionally dead.

there is a reason mathy told the duckling to keep a distance

The sisterhood is the magic KGB, and she is an old agent

edit:the openly hostile one is better then the one that's thinking of the best way to kill you after the mission while quietly munching on a walnut.
 
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Asheram said:
Oof, The Crone.
She'll know her stuff, but she'll also be stubborn as hell. Her way or not at all.
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Put like that, I'm sure Mathilde will get along with her famously. She's got a grumpy grandpa, and now she can pick up a grandma.
picklepikkl said:
She has Give No Fucks energy. Kinda Granny Weatherwax-y, or maybe Gehenna. I like her. I think we'll get along.
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Not Gehenna. Gehenna isn't super Weatherwaxy, I'd say of the Witches Gehenna is closest to Nanny Ogg.
 
BurnNote said:
Not Gehenna. Gehenna isn't super Weatherwaxy, I'd say of the Witches Gehenna is closest to Nanny Ogg.
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Sorry, I was unclear. I was comparing her to both Weatherwax and Gehenna, both of whom have Give No Fucks energy, but in importantly different ways. You are right that they are not much alike.
 
Zero Gravitas said:
She's not openly hostile (like Milica) and she's bound to have some sort of professional appreciation of LM capabilities. She's not going to be the most easy going option but she's going to do her part and collaborate if needed which is sufficient.
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Ya, but I'm not sure if the sisterhood doesn't plan for us to have an 'accident' after we got them their Mcguffen. So we can't tell anyone what it is.

the fact that they sent the one of them that has the best chance against a LM doesn't fill me with confidence.
 
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The Karag Dum Expedition, Part 3: Eastern Oblast
  • Threadmarks
    • [*] Asarnil the Dragonlord
    [*] Magister Egrimm van Horstmann
    [*] Thane Borek Forkbeard
    [*] Deathfang

    Tally

    From atop the Volans, you watch supplies stream out of Praag by the cartload to be winched aboard each of the steam-wagons in what seems like a well-practiced process. You suppose the same must have happened at every town since Karak Kadrin, and it raises your hopes for the coming weeks. The most obvious reason is that that the supply situation is being taken seriously, but also in that Gotrek is in charge of the logistics but the Rangers are the ones performing the actual purchases, which indicates good coordination between him and Snorri. Food is the primary component of the supplies but a surprising amount of firewood is taken aboard as well, which makes sense after you give it some thought. Engineers would certainly prefer to stick to a single supply of fuel, but the coked peat favoured by the Dwarves is effectively irreplaceable this far from the Karaz Ankor, so every day they burn wood instead is a day more of the much lighter, hotter, cleaner-burning fuel to be used in much less friendly territory.

    As the single funnel atop the steam-wagons as opposed to the dual funnels of River Monitors attests, water is not thrown away through steam, but instead recaptured and cycled back through the boilers once it has reverted to water. Not only does this greatly reduce the amount of water the Expedition will need to store or source, it also means that the boiled water can be diverted for consumption by the beings of the Expedition, which is a great convenience compared to setting up fires and cauldrons next to every river the Expedition comes across. The Rangers still go to the far side of the city to draw water from the Lynsk upstream of Praag, because even if nobody's going to be directly drinking it, the Engineers are very keen that they don't want various city-produced residues fouling up the Engines.

    The next morning, the taverns of Praag are scoured to extract the last handful of hung-over Knights and Dwarves, and with an inexorably building rumble the great engines are restarted. The convoy circles the city with agonizing slowness, leaving deep furrows in the empty fields surrounding the walls, but once it reaches the solid stone of the road on the other side it accelerates to a quick march or a slow jog. The Winter Wolves fan out to scout the flank not covered by the Lynsk, and the Knights of Taal's Fury bound ahead - normally it would be to scout out an encampment position some forty miles ahead, but today they make for Uskovic to make sure that another day's supplies will be ready to be brought aboard when the steam-wagons arrive. The Expedition is underway.

    ---

    As it turns out, transferring between the steam-wagons when they're underway is not a matter of disembarking one and boarding another, presumably by grabbing onto a rope ladder while jogging. A series of ropes are set up between them once they're in the day's formation, and when supplies or people need to travel from one to the other they're pulled taut, the sender is elevated above the receiver and baskets on pulley-wheels are allowed to follow the call of gravity and slide from one to the next. That's the theory, anyway. In practice, the Dwarves of the steam-wagons have attached handles to pulleys and slide back and forth with nothing but their own grip to keep them suspended, a practice that Rangers apparently use to get around mountains quickly. You'd call it pointlessly dangerous, but you suppose it's a matter of perspective as you pull in the rebellious energies spewed from the Warp and force them to translocate you from one point to another in the space between instants.

    You make your way to the Alriksson at the head of the convoy, determined to spend some time with the Expedition leader and try to gauge his mental state. It's easy to assume the worst of him based on what you've seen of him, but you suppose it might not be entirely fair to him. The past sixteen years of your life has been in service to two great leaders: Abelhelm van Hal and Belegar Ironhammer. In comparison, very few would do anything but fall short. So you will give him a proper chance to prove himself merely average, rather than dangerously inept.

    You find him at the fore of the foremost vessel, gazing over the railing at the road ahead. "Grandmaster," he says as you approach. "Actually, that reminds me. By which of your titles would you prefer to be referred?"

    "Loremaster would seem most appropriate, as I am here as Belegar's delegate. But for informal occasions, I would not object to you calling me by name."

    "Mathilde Weber," he says thoughtfully. "The battle-mighty weaver. I'd call the name rather on-the-nose, had you not been born with it. The games destiny plays, eh?"

    You give a nod, more at acknowledgement at the shot across your bows than the commentary on your name. "Indeed," is all you say, wondering where he found the time to look into your origins while preparing for the Expedition.

    "What brings you aboard the Alriksson so soon after your joining us? Everything to your satisfaction?"

    Well, if he wants to get right to it. "Truth be told, I am concerned with the food situation," you say. "From what I've been told, we'll have very little left by the time we reach Karag Dum."

    He turns to consider you, rubbing the forked beard that gives him his name. "Ah, you've been speaking to Gotrek. He has the soul of an Engineer, he wants everything in place before his device leaves the workshop, and considers everything short of that a failure. Three years ago, we had planned food enough for the entire Expedition to get from Karak Kadrin to Karag Dum and back again and he was happy as can be. Two pounds of flour and salt meat times fifty Dwarves per steam-wagon times two hundred days, that's eminently portable for vehicles of this size. I'm sure you know what changed."

    "The Knights."

    "And their beasts. Twenty-five pounds of meat per day to keep them in optimal condition. Ten of them would equal the amount of food-weight required by the original Expedition, and we have two hundred. We did what we could with the Urmskaladrak and the cold-rooms, but those Knights increased the food requirements of the Expedition by a factor of about twelve. Then we have the storage space lost to the axle-decks and the gun-decks, so now, yes. Five weeks of food storage. But since you already produced a very welcome solution to part of that problem, I know you do not think that amounts to five weeks of food, as Gotrek tends to imagine."

    "Bartering and hunting."

    "And stockpiling. Tonight, Uskovic. Tomorrow, Volksgrad. Two nights later, a caravan from Sepukzy. Two nights after that, one from Novchozy. Dotted throughout High Pass, carefully-hidden stockpiles that the Redbeards have been preparing for half a decade. The clock did not begin to tick at Praag, it begins at Zorn Uzkul. Three weeks to Karag Dum, three weeks back, five weeks of stored food. Zorn Uzkul will be barren of supplies, of that I have no doubt, but after that we spend a few days winding through the northernmost expanse of the Mountains of Mourn, which by all accounts - including ones written by gyrocopter scouts this very year - have game to hunt. No Mammoth that far north, but Rhinoxen herds have been confirmed. The Knights should prove capable of preying upon them, and if not, Asarnil's charges for hunting services are preferable to starvation. After that, a few days along the Skull Road through the territory of the Kurgan known as Iron Wolves, who have horses and sheep and goats and cows who should be easy prey for Demigryphs and giant wolves. And then we turn north, and encounter the Dolgan and find out if they are as good as their word. And if they are not, then they too can be preyed upon." He smiles, only visible as a twitch of the beard, which makes Dwarves seem so taciturn to those unfamiliar with them. "Consider it a test of our readiness. If we cannot muster enough might and competence to find a single week of food from hunting, bartering, and rustling cattle, we're certainly not in a position to be delvers of the Chaos Wastes. Does that put your mind at ease?"

    "More so than it was," you admit.

    "I am glad. Yes, food is a problem. Yes, none of those sources are certain. Yes, it would be far more preferable to be beholden to nothing but our own stores for the entire journey. But as comforting as that notion is, it is nowhere near as comforting as two hundred mounted warriors atop terrible beasts at my side as we ride into the Chaos Wastes. That is why you recruited them, is it not?"

    "Something like that."

    "Food is a known problem, and one it is easy to fixate upon now. The problems of the Chaos Wastes, and whatever evils will be besieging Karag Dum, we cannot know what they will be and so it is much easier to worry about the food. But I am quite certain that those unknown problems will be more likely to be solved with force than with food." He turns his gaze back to the path ahead. "Making this journey has been my only purpose for five times longer than you have been alive. If I fail, it will not be because I forgot to pack a lunch."

    ---

    The compartment Egrimm shares with his Journeymanlings is in a state of barely-controlled chaos, with half-unpacked crates scattered around and the straw that was cushioning their contents inevitably escaping and finding every available nook and cranny to slip into. The Journeymanlings are apparently elsewhere, and Egrimm sits at a table bolted onto the ground, tinkering with some sort of crystal array. "Lady Magister, come on in" he says, and you duck through the ovular door into the compartment. "What can I do for you?"

    "I wanted to get to know you a little better," you say as you cast around the room for something to sit on, eventually settling on one of the already-emptied crates. "Should things get particularly Chaos-y, you and yours will be our best weapon against it."

    "Our Wind is particularly suited to banishing the beings of the Aethyr," he says with a smile. "Which is quite interesting, considering it originates there. Some see it as proof of the self-defeating nature of Chaos."

    "Do you?" you ask curiously.

    "I think it's a dangerous mindset. It might be true on a large enough timescale, but I doubt it comforted Praag that Asavar Kul was knifed by a lieutenant after the Battle at the Gates of Kislev. Personally, I wonder if might be as simple as self-interest. Hysh would stop existing if the world was swallowed by the Aethyr, after all."

    "I know a Light Wizard who told me a theory that the Eight directly oppose the Four," you say, nodding. "Which could even go so far as to conclude that the Eights are Gods in their own right. They observed that their own behaviour is as strongly influenced by Hysh as a zealot is by their God."

    He looks at you curiously. "Intriguing. What was the name of this Wizard? I've yet to encounter that view among my Order."

    "They go by the name 'Cython', they're an associate of Karak Eight Peaks. They're not from the Empire so I suppose it's natural they have a different paradigm."

    He nods. "We swim in a dammed lake, I sometimes feel. Tempelwijk being hostile to us over petty politics, Arabyans guarding their own magics as military assets, the Damsels and Ice Witches considering their own knowledge holy secrets... and, of course, we just passed by the charred shell of the Fire Spire. So much hovering just outside our grasp."

    You nod at the crystal device. "Is that what this is for?"

    He looks down at it and smiles. "The Chaos Wastes are usually a fair bit further than 'just outside our grasp', so with the opportunity knocking we've got quite a backlog of experiments that have been dreamed up over the years. Usually they just get dusted off for however long it takes for an over-enthusiastic researcher to be reminded that Norscans exist." The smile fades a bit. "The foremost of those experiments will be, of course, our own good selves. We underwent extremely thorough examination before we departed, and when we get back we'll do so again, and it'll be compared to our own readings of ambient Dhar levels. That should give us some hard data on whether the 'exterior radiant' or 'ingested taint' camps are correct."

    "That's a big sacrifice in the name of knowledge," you say, frowning.

    He shrugs. "We all became tainted the first time we gazed upon Morrslieb or lived through Hexensnacht. We'll be monitoring our food and water carefully the whole way, so unless the most alarmist of the 'exterior radiant' camps are correct the actual long-term effect should be negligible."

    You remember your own experiences during the Sylvanian campaign, and how you still don't know whether some of the temptations you experienced then were due to the environment or the circumstances. "Well, keep an eye on your thoughts. Dhar taint has a habit of trying to nudge those afflicted into becoming more so."

    "Hysh demands a centred mind even when circumstances don't. Don't worry about us, Lady Magister. Personally, my concerns are on Alexandra and Cyrston, and to a lesser extent the Ambers."

    "It won't be the first time the Ambers, or the rest of the Knights, have ventured into tainted land. But I agree with you about the other two."

    "I'll keep an eye on them when it's not on my three. Being watched from both the light and the shadow should keep them on the right path."

    "I'd appreciate your insight." You consider him for a long moment. "Did you choose to come on this Expedition?"

    He raises an eyebrow at the sudden change of subject, then shakes his head. "My decision was not whether or not to venture into the Chaos Wastes, or whether or not to assist the Dwarves. My choice was whether to serve my Magister Patriarch and former Master, or not. And I made that decision quite some time ago."

    "And now, here you are."

    "Here I am."

    "What do you think we'll find when we get there?"

    He takes a moment to consider that. "The cynical side of me thinks it will share the fate of Karak Vlag, and we'll find an unmarked mountain when we finally get there. But discounting that possibility... I do think the Dwarves are stubborn enough to have survived. But I have my doubts as to whether they're stubborn enough to have remained unchanged."

    ---

    Asarnil's lavish tent is erected atop the Urmskaladrak, and he and Deathfang can usually be seen in various forms of repose as they watch the terrain flow by. There's something of a cat to their natures: the claws are never more than a thought away, but for now they choose to doze in the warmth of the sun. Asarnil looks up as you approach. "Ho, Avaulgu," he says, smiling as you wince at the pun. "It's a good day to get paid for doing nothing."

    You try to think of a suitable counter, but all that comes to mind is Horinasarnil which might be a bit much. "Dragonlord. Getting along with the Dwarves?"

    "Enough that I decided to ride with them from Ostermark. They leave me alone, I don't have to rebuild my tent each night, everyone's happy."

    "Well, don't get too comfortable. I half-expect Clan Moulder to pop out of the ground once they realize there's a Great Dragon rolling through their territory." Deathfang gives a contemptuous snort at that, lifting an eye to look at you. "Deathfang speaks Eltharin?"

    Asarnil smiles. "When he chooses to."

    "Which is rarely," Deathfang rumbles. "Asarnil is young, and better able to remember the fleeting beings that pay tribute to us in exchange for the violence we have mastered." He blinks, and he lifts his head as his scrutiny becomes intense. "There is a change in your demeanor, Silver Savage. Have you bested one of the rogue wyrmlings?"

    "No," you say, and then realize where Deathfang's gaze is. "My staff was carved from one that was slain long ago. But I have spoken to a dragon. An Ice Dragon, by the name of Cython."

    "Cython," he says with a snort. "Such a name. A Serpent of Wisdom and Knowledge, given in the tongue of the people it has no right to. What does it know of either? The rebels turn their backs on the heavens to play in the dust, and crow and strut when they build a filthy mound that will be blown away in the wind."

    "Not all dragons followed Draugnir when He joined the courts of the Cadai," Asarnil explains. "There's little love lost between those that did and those that did not."

    "Their devolved forms are their reward for treachery," Deathfang continues. "They have bound themselves to this world and will die with it. I do not blame the younger races for embracing the Winds, they are no more or less than what they have been made to be. But dragons should know better. They should be better."

    "It's a sensitive subject," Asarnil says solemnly.

    "Sensitive subject," Deathfang echoes. "Human, have you met any Druchii? Would you like to boast of it to Asarnil?"

    "Once, actually," you say, and two heads turn towards you. "I mean, he was only conscious for a few seconds after I met him. Then I put him under Mockery of Death and delivered him to a Nagarythian."

    "A proper response," Asarnil says with a grin.

    "Would that you did the same to this Cython," Deathfang grumbles.

    "Is the Expedition feeding the two of you?" you ask, partly curious after your conversation with Borek and partly to change the subject.

    "We procure our own provisions," Asarnil says with a sniff, "and I have enough with me to last the journey. When we arrived in the Old World, we very quickly learned not to rely on our employers for sustenance. I have seen feasts thrown by human kings that would make an Asur pauper weep with shame if they fed them to their beasts."

    "If necessary, it will be little hardship to fast from here to there and back," Deathfang says. "But I've found there are very few places on this continent where you cannot find something to kill and eat."

    "Fresh meat roasted in dragonfire is one of the world's greatest delicacies," Asarnil says with a nod. "We've discussed the possibility of hunting food for the rest of the Expedition with Borek." He looks ahead musingly. "I might offer a discount if it's in the eastern mountains. It's been quite some time since we fought a Rhinox."

    "Have you ever been into the Chaos Wastes?"

    Asarnil shakes his head. "I was chasing Yhetees in Troll Country not long ago, and I've fought in Sylvania and Mousillon and Norsca. And I've been to the Blighted Isle, which I understand to be the Chaos Wastes in miniature. But no, not this deep. I'm quite looking forward to a new fight."

    "IX, 189. The collapse of the Great Bastion," Deathfang says with a yawn.

    "Cathay?" Asarnil says with a frown. "Surely not. The reign of Morvael the Impetuous was spent in war with the Witch King. We played no part in Cathay's affairs."

    "Asur played no part," Deathfang corrects, carefully pulling a very large pillow over to him with his huge claws and resting his head on it.

    Asarnil shakes his head fondly. "Dragons and their secrets."

    You refrain from commenting.

    ---

    As the day draws to an end and the convoy approaches the final encampment position before entering High Pass itself, there's a new figure amongst the normal handful of Knights and Demigryphs standing watch over it and the expected caravan of supplies from Sepukzy. Sitting on a rock in the middle of the clearing is the Ice Witch Ljiljana, the eldest of the four you met in the city of Kislev. When the Alriksson comes to a halt, you're happy to see that Borek has reached the right conclusion and is the first to be disembarking the steam-wagon, and thanks to some quick translocation you're the second.

    "Greetings," Borek says as he approaches her. "I am Borek Forkbeard, Thane of this Expedition. This is Loremaster Mathilde Weber of Karak Eight Peaks."

    "Dzień dobry. I am Ljiljana of the Hromada Ledyanoy Ved'ma. I have been the one writing to you in letters." She nods to you. "And you, I met in person previously." She waves a hand at the entrance to the mountain pass. "Belyevobota, clear as the Goromadny Prospekt, as promised."

    "Indeed. Karag Dum is in your debt."

    "Karak Kadrin is in our debt," she replies. "Our agreement?"

    "Gyrocopter scouts will be monitoring the pass. The first part of the payment will be sent if it is still open in one week, the second if it is still open in two months."

    She nods. "The Krasnoludy are always reliable. Then we go into the Za." She glares up at the nearest steam-wagon.

    "You may have your pick of the steam-wagons to travel upon. Loremaster Weber is staying aboard the Volans if you wish to be amongst Wizards."

    "With the Bachór Charodei? Nie. I will stay with the," she waves a hand at the nearby Knights, "leshiye towarzysz. Kovnik Joerg is sensible." She nods as if that settles everything and walks away.

    "Do widzenia," Borek says to her departing back, and then he turns to give the Pass a thoughtful look.

    "There's an odd match," you say as you watch Ljiljana make her way over to the Magnus. "Though I suppose Taal could be seen as a forested equivalent to the Ancient Widow. What was that she called them? Leshi..."

    "Leshiye towarzysz." He considers it for a moment. "Forest Knights, sort of."

    "She's definitely got seniority, so I suppose it shows that the Ice Witches are taking this seriously."

    He shrugs. "It was always Karak Vlag that dealt with them. I can get by in Gospodarinyi, but I don't know their people and culture much. We just focused on staying connected with the Karaz Ankor. Hopefully the Knights can keep her out of trouble."

    "Hopefully," you echo.

    ---

    The four with the most votes will be chosen.

    Spend time getting to know:
    [ ] Thane Borek Forkbeard
    [ ] Head Engineer Gotrek Gurnisson
    [ ] Head Ranger Snorri Farstrider
    [ ] Preceptor Joerg von Zavstra
    [ ] Sir Ruprecht Wulfhart the Younger
    [ ] Asarnil the Dragonlord
    [ ] Deathfang
    [ ] Ice Crone Ljiljana
    [ ] Magister Egrimm van Horstmann
    [ ] Citharus, Barbitus, and Timpania
    [ ] Magister Michel Solmann
    [ ] Journeyman Cyrston von Danling
    [ ] Journeywoman Alexandra Kohler

    Become involved with:
    [ ] Ranging far ahead of the convoy
    - With the Knights of Taal's Fury
    [ ] Scouting near the convoy
    - With the Winter Wolves
    [ ] Hunting
    - With both the Knights and the Wolves
    [ ] Foraging
    - With the Rangers

    Other:
    [ ] Visit the former site of Karak Vlag


    - There will be a one hour moratorium.
    - If there's another way you think Mathilde could usefully apply her time, let me know.
    - Extremely rough sketch of the steam-wagons, for visualization purposes:
     
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  • Threadmarks
    • [ ] Visit the former site of Karak Vlag

    This is important. Why? Because an empty hold made the best dungeons for hiding loot, that's why!
     
    BoneyM said:
    You'd call it pointlessly dangerous, but you suppose it's a matter of perspective as you pull in the rebellious energies spewed from the Warp and force them to translocate you from one point to another in the space between instants.
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    fuckin lol
    BoneyM said:
    "Food is a known problem, and it is easy to fixate upon now. The problems of the Chaos Wastes, and whatever evils will be besieging Karag Dum, we cannot know what they will be and so it is much easier to worry about the food. But I am quite certain that those unknown problems will be more likely to be solved with force than with food." He turns his gaze back to the path ahead. "Making this journey has been my only purpose for five times longer than you have been alive. If I fail, it will not be because I forgot to pack a lunch."
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    I see you have been reading the thread. Good line to end on.
    BoneyM said:
    The compartment Egrimm shares with his Journeymanlings
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    [dwarf infection intensifies]
    BoneyM said:
    observed that their own behaviour is as strongly influenced as much by Hysh as a zealot is by their God.
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    This sentence reads weirdly to me, and I can't quite put my finger on why. I think it's the nearby "as"s. Maybe "is as strongly influenced by Hysh as a zealot is..."? Or "is influenced as much by Hysh as a zealout is..."?
    BoneyM said:
    My choice was whether to serve my Magister Patriarch and former Master, or not. And I made that decision quite some time ago.
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    BoneyM: trollface.jpg
    BoneyM said:
    Bachór Charodei
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    did she just call all of us baby magicians
     
    The chat with Asarnil and Deathwing was quite fun. I can't help but imagine their respective reactions if we'd actually chosen to court Cython at this point, too. Elf/Dragon relationships are a thing that happens now and then, right? So the weird part would be that we're human, rather than it happening at all?
     
    My vote will go as follows

    [ ] Magister Michel Solmann

    He's a magister we need a better handle on him

    [ ] Ice Crone Ljiljana

    I would like to know if she's a battle mage

    [ ] Ranging far ahead of the convoy

    A chance to learn more about the knights while doing something useful

    [ ] Head Engineer Gotrek Gurnisson

    Learn more about the dwarf leadership.
     
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