"Yes. And the Ar-Ulric..." The word 'supposedly' is very loudly not spoken. "Speaks for Ulric."
You rack your memory as best you can. "They've always claimed everything west of the Salz. The disappearances in Nordland, they've been enforcing their claims. And Middenland is supporting them."
"Which is a straightforward decision if they are coreligionists," Hubert says miserably. "But if one doubts their conversion..."
You exhale. "Fuck." Hubert nods. "This is why you're conflicted?"
"My family asked me to pass on what information I could," he admits. "I would like to prove to them I serve Ulric. But the more time I spend at Ulrikadrin, the more I wonder if they are His truer servants."
You nod in understanding, and feel very glad that the God you serve doesn't feel the need for this type of infuriating aloofness.
Tally
[*] Use Rite of Way to ease the ascent
[*] Investigate the 'Windfall' with the Light Wizards
[*] Journeyman Cyrston von Danling
[*] Sir Ruprecht Wulfhart the Younger
The road winding up from the Zorn Uzkul plateau to the Great Steppes is no more treacherous than anywhere else along the path except for one aspect: the incline. Conventional wagons can manage it more or less fine, albeit sometimes through double-teaming the wagons or having Ogre mercenaries help push, but those strategies aren't really viable for the behemoths that are the steam-wagons. All that can be done mechanically is to stoke the fire up and hope for the best, but the loss of traction from a pothole or fresh gully here could meaningfully slow the steam-wagon down where on level terrain it would simply coast over it. So this is an ideal place to first deploy your Rite of Way: where the terrain is troubling enough that it would help, but not so rough that it's vital. You displace Borek from the prow position on the Alriksson, mentally prepare yourself, and as the wagon begins to climb and the engine redoubles in volume you let Ulgu flow through you into your staff and pour onto the road ahead.
[Casting Rite of Way: Learning, 21+28=49.]
After the first shift, you're glad you decided to get the practice in here. The steam-wagons need to be fairly well spaced out to give each of them time to adjust to any change in speed from the wagon in front of them, and maintaining the trail for the full convoy turns out to be a lot more mentally taxing than you had expected. Until you get into the proper rhythm there's several times where the tailing wagon isn't covered and starts to fall behind and needs to catch up at the next bend, where being able to see the road to make the turn means the spell can't be applied. But there's an unexpected benefit to this in that having the final wagon act as an inadvertent control subject demonstrates the better traction that the hidden path provides, which mollifies concerns and reduces grumbling to background levels.
The wagons themselves turn out to exceed expectations when it comes to managing the slopes, the sixteen driving wheels and twelve carrying wheels turning out to maintain traction much better than the Engineers had expected from their tests with the four-wheel designs. By the second day they've accepted the use of the Rite of Way and are updating their projections to show at least a day saved on the ascent, possibly more. The scouts bring in detailed information on the incline and the condition of the path ahead, and you're able to work out a schedule where you'll be assisting with the trickiest parts without having to completely exhaust yourself by dedicating all your daylight hours to the task.
---
Esbern and Seija had been able to identify an area of Windfall while out scouting with the Knights of Taal's Fury, so on a day when the Winds are blowing and you're not needed for a suitable stretch you and the Light Wizards fill rucksacks with esoteric equipment and a lunch and make your way east-southeast to where the phenomenon was spotted. You might be able to cautiously make your way across this terrain atop a Shadowsteed but you doubt the Light Wizards would be able to, so there's nothing for it but a good long hike with Skywalk to bridge some of the trickier gaps.
"So," Egrimm says curiously as the five of you walk around the mountain in your way. "That spell, the Rite of Way. Is it a ritual?"
"No, despite the name, it's a sustained spell. Low-level Battle Magic."
"Are you consciously controlling the whole thing?"
"No, Ulgu is able to detect breaks in uniformity, so I have individual instances of a stripped-down Skywalk that get placed wherever there's a break in that. I just have to control where the fog is to act as a constraint on the spell and supply a steady stream of new instances."
"I've seen how far you have to extend it to cover the convoy, that must be a difficult visualization."
"Not as much as you might think, when it's a straight road at a relatively low speed. Then the tough part is output and consistency. It would be a different story for something faster moving that could need to change direction suddenly."
"But it would still be possible?"
"In theory. It's yet to be tested on a battlefield."
"It's new?"
"Put the finishing touches on it earlier this year."
There's silence in response to that, and you glance up from the path ahead to see Egrimm looking at you in surprise. "Well," he eventually says, "I suppose that's why I haven't encountered it before. That's an impressive spell to have made from scratch."
You shrug. "It's yet to have a proper field-testing. This stretch is just a warm-up, it's the steppes that will really put it through its paces."
When you finally reach the spot that Esbern and Seija had found, the Light Wizards trailing behind and in various stages of exhaustion, you take a moment to appreciate the sight that would be invisible to anyone without Magesight. This is where seven of the eight Winds blowing from the north descend from overhead to reach ground level and begin to follow the preferences and patterns you're familiar with, and though a waterfall would be the closest comparison, water's descent is extremely straightforward compared to streams of the Winds trying to keep their distance from other Winds and merging with streams of the same Wind in a chaotic twirling descent, and then scattering as they hit ground level and break apart from the sudden impact. The impact point is thick with Dhar from the times when velocity overcame natural repulsion, but the same velocity that causes the Dhar prevents most of the Winds from being drawn into the morass of blended Winds lurking at the bottom of the cliff like a sinkhole of dark magic.
"It's always mountains," Egrimm says as he begins to unpack his rucksack. "All across the upper hemisphere, there's always mountains to interrupt the flow of magic overhead. Here, the Mountains of Mourn, Norsca... I've read that even Naggaroth has a chain of mountains to its north that performs the same function. There's only two exceptions I know of: where the Northern Wastes meet the Great Ocean, and the Great Bastion of Cathay. Neither of which we know much about."
"So are mountains actually required for magic to descend, or is it an accident of geography?" you ask.
"That's the question. Those that believe the world was made with purpose tend towards the former, those that don't often also believe that there's similar Winds coming from the Southern Wastes that don't have a chain of mountains to interrupt them. Needless to say, there's not many expeditions to try to map the geography of the Southern Wastes, though apparently the High Elves have an outpost on a spur near Khuresh." He removes a large crystal wrapped in wire from his pack, and begins to examine it carefully.
"How does your Magesight manifest?" you ask curiously.
"Visual, which is actually not that common in the Light Order - we initiate early so most don't have a chance to develop their own before they're shaped by the Choruses. Citharus has auditory like most, Timpania has olfactory, and Barbitus has... what was it?"
"Visceral, Magister," he says, not looking up from rooting through his rucksack.
"And how is all this manifesting for you?"
Barbitus frowns. "Hard to say, but it's doing a lot of it. I think I'll be skipping lunch."
"Remember to take notes, we don't get many chances to accumulate data on this phenomenon." Egrimm looks downwards at where the plummeting Winds terminate. "And to prove it, that's a much-debated phenomenon we can confirm the existence of. Natural Dhar. There's plenty that argue that it only comes about as a result of unnatural influences or ill intent."
"Why do the Winds fall here, though?" you ask, looking upwards.
"That's the question, isn't it? Everywhere else we know of, it's easy to say that it's the mountains interrupting the flow of magic, and that's the most popular theory. But this peak is below the ground level of the Great Steppes and it's still happening here. Even the Azyr is dipping before splitting off from the other seven to remain higher."
"Something metaphysical, then? The nature of mountains weighing down the Winds?"
"Could be. But that's a problem with the Colleges, they're so centralized in Altdorf that most of the Wizards that weave theories never go further afield than the Grey Mountains, and that's a very tame range, comparatively. So they've never really encountered the real thing."
"Well, let's gather some data for them," you say, frowning as you consider the coloured wax pencils you've brought with you. You're not much of an artist, but trying to turn what you're seeing into words seems a lot more daunting than trying to sketch it out.
A few industrious hours pass as copious notes are taken, esoteric instruments consulted, and one crystal shard is very carefully dipped into a Wind stream with Move cast by the miniature choir. To you the choir was more interesting than the results, as between the three of them they managed to keep two instances of the spell on the crystal while the third took a break, rotating so that every minute each of them had rotated in and out once. Getting them in sync enough for that to work must have been a hellishly difficult process, but it seems like it would be extremely useful in all sorts of ways. But once the observations are taken and the lunches have been eaten it's time to head back once more, with the three junior Light Wizards ranging ahead while you hang back to talk to Egrimm.
"How's Barbitus doing?" you ask him.
"Not well, today isn't the first meal he's missed and I don't think he's sleeping. But it doesn't seem like it's outright festering either. I think as long as the voyage continues to be prosaic, he'll have recovered by the time we arrive at Karag Dum."
"I think if we do come under attack here, it will be by more mundane forces than we saw from Karak Vlag. Do you think he'd have trouble engaging normal horsemen?"
He shakes his head. "Choir discipline runs deep. Once he gets casting with the others, he'll be fine."
You nod thoughtfully, your eyes on Barbitus as he hops from rock to rock. "Glad to hear it."
---
Journeyman Cyrston von Danling is the only Journeymanling who seems unmoved by his taste of combat with the Daemons, and that has drawn your curiosity and perhaps a bit of your suspicion. The paranoid part of you wonders if 'seasonal attunement' is perhaps a very convenient excuse for his spells growing in power as he approaches the Chaos Wastes, though you do know from Panoramia that it is an existing phenomenon. So you put aside some time to approach him as he watches the terrain rolling past.
"Fascinating plateau," he says, staring down at the Zorn Uzkul that is laid out below. "What could it be that motivates the great beasts of the mountains to come here to die?"
"No idea," you say. "I've heard of something similar far to the south for dragons, but that seems more cultural than instinctual, since they stopped doing it after the Coming of Chaos."
"An ancient migratory path that was once survivable, but no longer is? A herding instinct that has them trying to follow the same path as the great caravans, unaware that the caravans carry food and water with them? Some sort of curse or ambient energies?" He shakes his head. "Such a fascinating mystery, and one so dangerous to even reach and look upon."
"There's a lot of those in the world," you say with a nod.
"I hope so. Travelling would get boring if you only ever encountered things you already understood." He smiles and turns his eyes away from the plateau. "What can I do for you, Lady Magister?"
"Just wanted to check in with you. I'm juggling a lot of hats right now, but one of them is being head of the Wizards on this Expedition."
He nods and smiles. "I suppose it can't be easy to manage Journeymen while also somehow looting a Marienburg ship. Nothing to worry about with me, I couldn't be happier to have seen the famous Zorn Uzkul, and soon the Great Steppes. I'm told they look something like northern Kislev, but on a much vaster scale."
"No lingering effects from the battle? The effects of a Higher Daemon of the Tempter can be rather subtle..."
He shakes his head firmly. "Not that I've noticed. If anything, well, not to get too graphic, but that sort of thing is trending downwards as spring gives way to summer, as it always does."
You decide against pursuing that line of enquiry too closely. "Do the seasons still have such an effect, even this far north?"
He nods. "We've never encountered a place where it didn't. I once read an account of a Jade Wizard that travelled to Sudenburg and was still subject to seasonal variations in mood and magic even though the weather there didn't reflect it. The current atheological theory is that the rhythm of the seasons is constant and powerful enough to keep Wizards in sync with it no matter the distance."
You nod, considering his words. Your first interview with him did reveal that he considers himself something of an explorer, so you suppose it's no surprise he'd focus on the landscape rather than the events. And maybe his seasonal attunement keeps him centered in such a way that the periphery of a Tempter aura couldn't get its hooks in. You're not fully convinced, but it's your job to never be fully convinced. "And the theological one?" you ask curiously.
He sighs. "The theological one is busy being fought over by the Rhyans and the Shallyans and the Ishernosians," he says with a shrug.
"Do you take a side in that?"
"Not if I can help it. I think the march of the seasons is powerful enough to venerate it without needing to put a face and a name on it."
You nod. You've yet to discuss the matter with a Jade Wizard that didn't keep out of that disagreement, though you suppose it makes sense that those that travel far from their home College would be those that don't want to get involved in the major internal disagreement of their Order. You're glad that the Grey College didn't inherit any major institutional baggage from the pre-Teclisean era, as it seems to be a huge weight on the mind of Jade Wizards. You thank Cyrston for his time and leave him to his study of the landscape.
---
Sir Ruprecht the Younger is a hard man to get a hold of, as he seems to spend every waking moment on patrol, giving orders to those about to go on patrol, or receiving information from those that have just come back from patrol. It's good that he's so dedicated to his work, but that it requires so much constant hands-on management from him suggests either internal troubles or a lack of confidence, though you suppose their performance back in High Pass would justify a certain amount of close scrutiny. You finally manage to pull him aside in between patrols and it doesn't take much probing from you before he's voicing his thoughts on the battle.
"It was that illusion," he says, shaking his head. "We were ready to charge in there and kill everything that was underdressed and beardless, but suddenly there were those heretic Slayers, and our own Slayers were cut down so quickly by them. That was something nobody could have predicted, but they should still have reacted. But they didn't, not until I all but threw them at the fortifications."
"Inability to adapt to changing circumstances?" you ask.
He nods. "I think we've grown too used to predictable foes, the Orcs of Iron Rock and the Dragon Ogres of Thunder Mountain. That's why back in the Empire, only half of us would be on guard duty at any one time, and the other half would be out striking down the enemies of man. Beastmen one week, cultists the next, and Forest Goblins after that. But ever since we settled down in Ulrikadrin the only time we've done anything but skirmish with the neighbouring brutes is during the battles at Karak Eight Peaks."
You nod. "There's only so much drilling and skirmishes can do. But that might be unavoidable. You don't have an entire province to fight across any more."
"We might," he says. "There's been rumblings from Barak Varr about Mad Dog Pass - it's the last of the southern passes that isn't controlled by the Dwarves, so it's the destination of choice for those that would rather take their chances than pay the Dwarves their cut. But that much wealth attracts the wrong sort of attention, and there's rumours of bandit-kingdoms along the Howling River. And it's a very small step from bandit to pirate, and Barak Varr definitely doesn't like that sort of thing. It was just talk when we left, but after Karak Vlag I've been thinking about it a lot."
You frown, consulting a mental map. "With Karak Vlag back, Mad Dog Pass would be the only overland route to the east outside of Dwarven control."
"And they last had that level of control, I've heard, before the birth of the Empire."
"Long before," you say with a nod. "Karak Norn was founded by the Clans that once watched over the Silver Road and Mad Dog Pass."
"And that could be where the Winter Wolves fit in. Mad Dog Pass is the only Pass without a major Dwarfhold on it. Seems better suited to being watched over by cavalry than by Dwarves on foot."
"That would put you in close proximity with Night Goblins and Forest Goblins. There's your unpredictable foes."
"Bloody Spear and Black Spider tribes," he says, nodding. "That way we have a chance to still be Knights in a few generations, rather than monks with puppies or feudal lords with pretensions."
"You wouldn't be the only ones to benefit. If the Dwarves took a cut of every caravan from Ind and Cathay... well, even Dwarven vaults would be swelled by that." You consider that for a moment, then turn the conversation back to the original topic. "Have any of the Knights been troubled by the battle? Not so much by their performance, but from the influence of the Daemons?"
He shakes his head firmly. "Our martial skills may have slipped, but our faith is stronger than ever now that we're far from the politics of Middenheim. A few are troubled, but they already know the prayers and meditations that will guide them past it, and our more experienced brothers are watching over them."
"Glad to hear it. I'm sure they'll have a chance to prove themselves once more soon." You clap him on the back and leave him to it, and it doesn't take long before he's hurrying back to his men. Perhaps a slight inclination to over-management, but you suppose that's only natural after overseeing a failing like that.
---
You're resting atop the Alriksson as the caravan negotiates its way around a corner when it happens. By the time it's audible over the engines of the steam-wagons, the clattering of falling stone has escalated into a full-blown avalanche, and there's a roar of draconic disapproval as the ground below the largest of the steam-wagons gives way, dragging it over the edge and out of sight as an extremely disgruntled dragon flaps his way free, carrying an even more disgruntled Elf in his talons. As the silence drags on you become more and more horrified, until at last there's an earth-shaking crash as the Urmskaladrak hits the ground far, far below.
It only takes you a moment to collect yourself before you're shaping Ulgu and appear at the edge of the cliff, then several more times as you jump from outcropping to outcropping until you reach the shattered vessel. To your shock there are already a couple of survivors crawling free of the wreckage, but you take just a moment to confirm that none of them are Gotrek before you turn to cast your eyes over the surrounding terrain. You can't see him, nor can you see the speck of Shyish that would probably indicate where he fell if he was atop the steam-wagon at the time, but from so far a drop he could have ended up any distance from the wreck itself. And if he was inside...
Time becomes meaningless as you do everything you can to negotiate a nightmarish maze of twisted metal and gore as you try to find survivors, or more accurately one survivor. Gotrek's knowledge of steam-wagons is irreplaceable, and without it there's that much less chance of being able to correct anything that goes wrong with them. But you're keenly aware that if he didn't survive the fall you have only a few minutes before he's beyond the grasp of the Seed of Regrowth, and though you've pulled out two more Dwarves that somehow survived the fall free of the wreckage, neither of them are Gotrek. And none of the recognizable corpses you've found are, either.
By the time you emerge once more, the Winter Wolves have wound their way back down the road and are starting to help retrieve and treat the wounded. You wipe the blood from your hands as best you can and start to numbly reassess the chances of the Expedition, because as soon as you and the survivors return to the convoy, there will be a debate over whether this has just ended it.
---
- The Urmskaladrak is completely destroyed.
- 16 Engineers, including Gotrek Gurnisson, died in the fall.
- Five Engineers survived, and will join the crew of the remaining steam-wagons
- Asarnil and Deathfang are unharmed.
- Most of the Expedition's food requirements are for the mounts, so this has a negligible effect on food consumption.
- About one week of food was aboard the Urmskaladrak. None is recoverable.
- About two weeks of food remain on the other steam-wagons. This is their maximum capacity.
- Karag Dum is approximately one week away.
- Kislev is approximately three weeks away.
- The scouts have not encountered any Iron Wolves, but if there are any in the area, they would have heard the falling Urmskaladrak.
- The Kriestov and Alexis are behind the rockslide area, and will need to negotiate the now narrower road if the Expedition presses on.
- The Alriksson, Magnus, and Volans are ahead of the rockslide area, and will need to negotiate the now narrower road if the Expedition turns back.
Ergo, the Expedition should...
[ ] Press on
[ ] Turn back
[ ] Other (write in)
- There will be a one hour moratorium.
- Convoy dicerolls: 1 on a d100 for cornering, 8 on a d100 for recovery, got the Urmskaladrak on a d6, rolled another d6 for how far a drop (higher better) and got a 1. Deathfang got an 82 for his reaction. Gotrek's survival roll, everyone else's, Mathilde's S&R.
Yeah, can't say I'm happy this happened without some sort of counter roll to react to help in some way. A major NPC died to a most likely random event? 🤦🏽♂️.
Okay, so Karag Dum is one week away, Kislev is 3 weeks away, and we only have 2 weeks of food. Honestly, I'm inclined to continue and see what the state of affairs is there, and see what can be done to rustle up more food in the meanwhile. We'll have everyone remaining fighting fit when we arrive at Dum, and can eat some mounts on the way back, assuming the Knights are willing. If they aren't, enough cavalry heads home to make up for the loss. Depending on the state of affairs at Dum, we might be able to get some food from the inhabitants - willingly or not.
@BoneyM, would Deathfang be willing to hunt extra food for the cavalry, if he's promised a lot of money?
It says that Mathilde was resting on the Alriksson, so this was not during one of the times where Mathilde was casting Rite of Way. Rather, it was the expedition climbing and cornering, and... well, a rockslide happened.
Mrgh.
So, since Rite of Way makes it easier to maintain traction for the steam-wagons... could we just keep going, except switch to having Mathilde using Rite of Way more often/longer?
i.e. We spend 1-3 actions on Rite of Way, to ensure that this sort of thing doesn't happen again?
And for when we get to this spot on the return trip, we use Rite of Way for the whole of the turn equivalent.
Awful to just lose a person like that. And our search and rescue... didn't even succeed at finding him.
@BoneyM, obviously Gotrek was the authority on the wagons, but do we know how well the surviving engineers will be able to keep things going without him? Both under normal circumstances, and assuming things go wrong?
Yes, though most of what's available to be hunted around here already belongs to someone, and if he's hunting he's not available to protect the convoy at short notice.
@BoneyM, obviously Gotrek was the authority on the wagons, but do we know how well the surviving engineers will be able to keep things going without him? Both under normal circumstances, and assuming things go wrong?
So, since Rite of Way makes it easier to maintain traction for the steam-wagons... could we just keep going, except switch to having Mathilde using Rite of Way more often/longer?
i.e. We spend 1-3 actions on Rite of Way, to ensure that this sort of thing doesn't happen again?
Well I say we press on anyway we're so close now it would be a shame to stop. But Damn Gotrek died by a Landslide what a surprising way to go for him.
Like yeah it's sad he died but we're so close to Karak Dum closer to the Karak then friendly territory so I say we jut push on as it was loses were expected after all.
I don't think Rite of Way would have even helped that much, this is just the kind of shit that happens on a nat 1. Sometimes you get sideswiped by a rockslide and die, that's just life I guess. It sucks but there's also not much to do but notch another one for coincidence being the deadliest motherfucker on the planet, pick up the pieces, and press on.