- Location
- The Middle of the Howling Wilderness
Dope. We should ask for one.
Warhammer Fantasy: Divided Loyalties - an Advisor's Quest
- Thread starter Boney
- Start date
- Fantasy Users' Choice!
Voted best in category in the Users' Choice awards.
Dope. We should ask for one.
It does my heart good to see so many scholars of fine taste here. Except for @Seventeen , but his punishment (ho) has already been administrated.
So, a submarine? Those also have that central thing for the periscope which is kinda towerlike.
They do, or at least they will have, if you take the Gotrek and Felix books as canon. Mind, it's extremly cutting edge technology (as in, the engineer was a Slayer).
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- Pronouns
- He/Him
I am very much on the side of this. Our protag is so much more than just her personal killyness, even if the current arc distracts from that a bit.
BungieONI
Seven gremlins in a trench coat
- Location
- Lickwidget
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Hmmm. Yeah I'm pretty keen on using end of Expedition favors for making some kind of deep connection to the dwarves. A tower, something like Baba Yaga's Hut, a lab, a home in Eight Peaks. I dunno, any of those are somewhat interchangeable, but the idea is, something someone like Mathilde can come and go from and hang out with Dwarf guests in.
Sinsystems
Patron Librarian
Here is an idea, we use our favors to get the ETC a trade contract with the dwarves that allows them to do things like Trade with K8P without any of the usual issues or something like that. Basically something that improves the ETC, gets us more money as a result and helps Stirland in a way we can rub in the Countess's face on the sly.
I think we're all forgetting the best dwarf weapons. It's just they're not in the dwarf armybook, they're in the Empire's.
Namely the Runefang (85 points, auto wound, no armor saves) and Ghal Maraz (115 points, auto wound, D3 multiple wounds, no armor saves). You don't stop Sigmar's hammer you get out of the way and pray.
Namely the Runefang (85 points, auto wound, no armor saves) and Ghal Maraz (115 points, auto wound, D3 multiple wounds, no armor saves). You don't stop Sigmar's hammer you get out of the way and pray.
BungieONI
Seven gremlins in a trench coat
- Location
- Lickwidget
- Pronouns
- She/Her
*rubs chin*
Hmm! That's pretty good! A long trek and thus a pain, but those favors can cover it.
- Location
- The Middle of the Howling Wilderness
My really out there/ambitious plan would be to use our favors to ensure a continued human (and possibly halfling) presence on the surface of K8P as allies of the dwarves there, if that's at all possible. I'd love to stick around this part of the world as an advisor/leader
- Location
- United States of America
Well, remember that Barak Varr lies between K8P and the Empire. Having the ETC establish a formal trade network from Wurtbad to Barak Varr and then to K8P would allow dwarven made goods to more readily flow into the Empire through Stirland.
BungieONI
Seven gremlins in a trench coat
- Location
- Lickwidget
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Tbh I've got interest in wandering around this part of the world as well as an occasional assistant to Belegar for some of our time. Seems like a cool dude.
I will clarify however that I still conceive of Stirland as Mathilde's home and I want most of her like, permanent organizational activities to be there or near there. I.e make a balance between cool dorfs and cool Stirland.
I think there's a couple of options there. The first is threading it through Barak Varr and K8P up into the Reikland and the south eastern provinces. Another way is K8P to Barak Varr and then down through the Underway to Zufbar and then into Stirland.
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Karak Eight Peaks: The Battle of Karag Lhune, Part 1
[*] Storming the Gates with the Vanguard.
- [*] Belegar and Clan Angrund
[*] Reporting:
--[*] State of enemy forces and defenses near landing pad, and following sabotage.
--[*] Hall of Oaths remains sealed, and not for lack of try
--[*] Estimated composition, quality, and type of enemies in Hall of the Moon. General defenses (or lack thereof) The general interactions between Skaven and Goblin, as well as the type of beasts being exchanged (rat beasts and orcs). Goblin Big Boss (describe) was shot and killed, the Skaven leader (describe) blinded as a side-effect, while under guise of Skaven, and infighting broke out. Current information accuracy uncertain after chaos initiated.
--[*] Type of defenses in King's Gates, including enemy troop compositions, artillery, and Stone Troll trap, and the following sabotage initiated
--[*] General state of affairs in Lhune as far as clans noted and occupying.
- [*] Belegar and Clan Angrund
[*] Reporting:
--[*] State of enemy forces and defenses near landing pad, and following sabotage.
--[*] Hall of Oaths remains sealed, and not for lack of try
--[*] Estimated composition, quality, and type of enemies in Hall of the Moon. General defenses (or lack thereof) The general interactions between Skaven and Goblin, as well as the type of beasts being exchanged (rat beasts and orcs). Goblin Big Boss (describe) was shot and killed, the Skaven leader (describe) blinded as a side-effect, while under guise of Skaven, and infighting broke out. Current information accuracy uncertain after chaos initiated.
--[*] Type of defenses in King's Gates, including enemy troop compositions, artillery, and Stone Troll trap, and the following sabotage initiated
--[*] General state of affairs in Lhune as far as clans noted and occupying.
Dwarves are doughty folk, and Dwarves marching to war doubly so. Belegar's gaze remains fixed ahead as he ascends the seemingly endless staircase to the King's Gates, and if the effort is getting to him he refuses to show it - though you do notice his sentences are short and clipped. You join him in his ascent, resisting the urge to summon your Shadowsteed to carry you up them without effort. Without further ado, you begin your report, defaulting to chronological order.
"First, the secondary peak appears to have been a landing pad in times past, and the Goblins were using it to house their Doom Diver battery."
"Noticed that," he comments. "Your work?"
"I burned their wings. Seemed the best compromise between sabotage and stealth."
"Did some old souls good to see Grobi falling harmlessly from the sky. Well done. What else?"
"The Hall of Oaths is sealed, and still actively defending itself by the look of it."
"Thank the Ancestors." He looks over his shoulder, where Clan Angrund follow behind. "I can at least give them that much."
You consider his words for a moment, then continue on. "The Hall of the Moon seems to have been adapted into a massive slave pit, with Goblin hovels stacked atop each other on all sides. No real defences. The greenskins there were mostly Night Goblins, I could see at least a few hundred but their numbers spilled out into the side passages. The Crooked Moon Tribe is selling Broken Toof orcs to the Skaven for some sort of overgrown dog-sized rats. I managed to disrupt a deal in process by putting a bullet in a Night Goblin Boss with Warpstone teeth. His Skaven counterpart, a massively fat one with a whip-"
"A Master Moulder," he says thoughtfully. "Or a Clan Moulder Chieftain."
You make a mental note of the titles. "Whatever he was, he was blinded by Warpstone shrapnel, so he's probably out of the picture."
"Probably, but not necessarily. Moulder are tricky."
"I was disguised as one of those Skaven heavy infantry-"
"Stormvermin."
"-a Stormvermin when I took the shot, and they were turning on each other when I left."
"May it stick."
"Finally, the entrance hall. At least a thousand of the greenskins, almost all regular Goblins being ordered around by a few Night Goblin Bosses. Forty-odd bolt throwers of greenskin construction, in a line halfway down the hall. Behind them a false floor, with a few dozen Stone Trolls in a pit underneath it. I riled the Trolls up and left as they were escaping from the pit to feed on goblins."
"You scout like a Ranger," he comments. "Were you seen at any point?"
"Not as a human. I was either hidden, invisible, or disguised as a Skaven or Goblin the entire time."
"Good." He's silent for about a dozen stairs, thinking. "Were you a Ranger, I'd say that you risked tipping off the enemy. But a Zhufokrul has a different set of tools. I'll trust you knew what you were doing."
You try not to think about the Night Goblins that almost caught you. "Glad to contribute."
"Speaking of, you calling it a day here, or you keen to get some blood on your blade?"
"I'd like to join you and your Clan in the Vanguard."
"You're welcome to," he says. His facial hair twitches in a way that suggests a smile underneath. "I'd normally find a spot for you in the shieldwall, but it seems traditional tactics don't work that well with this many rune-weapons. So we're just going to mob up, charge at anything green or furry, and when it comes time to write the songs they'll sing of this day, we lie like hell."
---
A few short hours ago, you felt a stirring of anger at the sight of a Dwarven entranceway marred with greenskin carpentry. What you felt is a tiny fraction of the ripple of anger that goes through the Dwarves as they reach the landing and set eyes on the King's Gates. That the comparison could be made to a desecrated corpse probably says a lot about Dwarf psychology.
Your information has led Belegar to tweak the order of battle slightly, and flanking Clan Angrund on both sides is a loose swarm of eager Slayers. The Slayers are to charge forward if the enemy within are Trolls, whereas Clan Angrund will if they are Goblins, and from there Clan Angrund will push forward along the same level until they reach the Hall of the Moon, which if all goes according to plan will be the center of power of the reborn Dwarf Karak. Other forces will split off in every direction, hopefully to seize the entire mountain and set up a line of defences at the Grand Avenue, the vast underground highway network that apparently once linked all eight mountains. Failing that, they will fortify whatever choke-points they can reach and send runners to call for reinforcements. Failing that, more forces will need to be called from the East Gates, but if resistance is that stiff it would bode very poorly for the Expedition.
The task of breaching the gate goes not to Dwarven siege weapons or explosives, but to a single individual. Kragg's default expression is one of deep disapproval, but the look he gives the gate is one that would send you running if it was aimed at you. He grips his hammer tightly, and you feel waves of heat come off him as the blackened steel begins to glow red-hot with runic magic and Dwarven fury. The swing he takes is that of a craftsman, not a warrior - it winds back as far as possible and swings in an almost lazy arc, designed to be a pace a smith could maintain for hours at a time. The impact delivered to the gates cares nothing for simple physics, for the power of the rune on Kragg's hammer, one that exists nowhere else in the world, delivers an impact greater than that of a cannon. The wooden bar on the gate surrenders in an instant, and the hinges in another, and the two gates fly backward and out of sight, lost in the darkness of the Hall.
[Goblins vs Trolls: Martial, 79+10-10(tried to recapture alive)=79 vs 73+10=83.]
Kragg steps smartly aside, and the keenest-eyed of the Rangers gives the call of "Trolls!" To your right, an over-eager youth of Clan Angrund takes half a step before halting himself, and almost loses his balance. To both sides, a joyous howl goes up, and over a thousand Slayers stream inward. Half a year ago they gathered at Karak Kadrin for help in seeking their doom, and Karak Kadrin pointed them to Belegar, and Belegar has led them on a three-month march over a significant portion of the Old World, and at long last that journey will reward at least some of them with not just death, but death acceptable to their Gods and their Ancestors.
[Slayers vs Trolls: Martial, 93+15+10(this is what Slayers do)=118 vs 99+10=109.]
On the heels of the Slayers are you and Clan Angrund, and you draw to a halt at the sight that greets you. Hundreds of Trolls gathered in the abattoir that the King's Gates entrance hall had become, feasting on a thousand slain Goblins; you call to mind the few glimpses you got of the pit underneath the false floor, and realize it must have been an entrance of its own to a vast network of Troll-infested caves. You try not to imagine what would have happened if Clan Angrund had charged in first, expecting Goblins rather than Trolls. You've heard stories of what Troll vomit does to a heavily armoured victim, when steel that should have protected instead traps the terrible acids against the skin. The carnage would have been terrible.
Not that the events unfolding before you are much better.
A Slayer goes into battle unarmoured - Hell, damn near unclothed - and while this so often leads them to the deaths they seek, it is entirely an advantage against Trolls, with slow reactions and slower minds. Geysers of stomach acid are nimbly sidestepped around and axes bite deep into stomachs to spill out their most disgusting weapon, then ankles until the Troll falls, then spines or throats to finish the beast, and the Slayer moves on to the next. Hundreds of them lose their lives, not because they can't avoid an attack but because they choose instead to drive home a crippling blow moments before their doom reaches them.
To your eyes, this is a tragedy. But to the Dwarves that flank you this is a moment of beauty, as every second a dozen more Slayers find glorious ends and are accepted into the arms of their Ancestors. Tears run freely down faces to soak into beards as Clan Angrund stands witness to redemption.
Finally the battle ends, and the only sounds remaining are the howls of agony of soon-to-be-dead Slayers, and the broken sobbing of those of them that survived.
---
Channels are dug through the countless corpses for the army to pass through, and columns of boots squelch over blood and viscera to head in every direction.
Rangers on light feet dash ahead to the Chiselwards, to discover what variety of horror is lurking there.
Thunderers head upwards to clear vast caverns that were once hangars for long-forgotten flying machines, kept aloft by gas and heat and runes, linking the Karaz Ankor in the time before Gyrocopters.
Warriors keep a safe distance from Kragg's critical eye as they march to the Hall of Oaths, with them a brace of stoneworkers. Somewhere in the Hall of Oaths is the final name on the list of those who fell in the Karak's defence, King Lunn, who sealed himself in the Ancestral Tombs to prevent their desecration. The Expedition has been carefully recording the name of every Dwarf that has fallen since it reached the East Gates, and soon enough they will join King Lunn and the generations before him in the Hall of Oaths.
Quarrellers head downwards, following your directions to the staircase that will take them back up to the secondary peak, to wipe out any survivors of their ranged assault and to capture the point for later use; greenskin siege weapons could reach half of the Eastern Valley from there, so Dwarven ones could dominate it entirely.
But most prominent of all, Clan Angrund marches to the Hall of the Moon. Thousands of years ago, a Night Goblin tribe seized the Hall, defaced its tribute to Mannslieb (Gormlhune to the Dwarves), and took their name from the lopsided appearance that their vandalism had given it. Today, the Crooked Moon Tribe will be launched upon their swift voyage to extinction. And very soon, that crooked moon will be set straight.
A mere thousand Dwarves march together, a thousand sets of footsteps echoing in rhythm, if not in harmony, through the tunnels, warning all who hear it that fate is rapidly approaching. Clan Angrund was not and is not a Clan of warriors. Leaders once, refugees and wanderers and vagabonds since. Among its number are too many old, too many young, and too many with the wiry energy and early wrinkles of a tough life instead of the thick muscle of a Dwarf Warrior. But for three thousand years, Clan Angrund has borne the shame of a lost hold, and every Dwarf here has chosen to bear that weight instead of joining the ranks of the clanless. They are survivors, and after three thousand years of shame they will retake their home or die in the attempt.
You wonder how many of them truly believe that they finally have hope, and how many expect no more than an honourable death in the attempt.
You told Belegar the way only once, but with the instincts of his kind he walks it without a moment's hesitation. He pauses for half a second as you reach three greenskin corpses bearing the terrible wounds of Burning Shadows that repaid their dogged pursuit of you, and then nods to the foremost few dwarves, who pull them off the ground and throw them into a side tunnel where they won't impede the Clan's march. Forewarned by this grisly landmark, you know you're not far now from the Hall of the Moon.
[How did things unfold after you left? Skaven vs Goblins: 2+15=17 vs 62+10+20(outnumber)=92.]
As you approach, the chatter of Night Goblins rivals and then swallows the march of Dwarf footfalls. Clan Angrund's path diverges from the one you took when you fled, as the side door you used isn't suitable to the reconquest. Instead they march to the doors that rival those at the King's Gates which hang open, the greenskins either too stupid or too arrogant to defend the Hall. You emerge blinking from the dim and intermittent light of the tunnels into the stark illumination of the bonfires of the Hall of the Moon, and you have a moment to take in the sight that greets you before the Night Goblins begin to react.
[How high up in the Tribe was the Boss you killed?: 100.]
And the sight is one of chaos.
Everywhere you look, there is pandemonium. Some Night Goblins scream abuse at each other, and this is as close to order as it gets, as elsewhere weapons clash and fists fly and hands shove. Fire rages out of control in at least three places, burning merrily through the countless layers of Goblin hovels built atop each other. The pit that was once filled with enslaved orcs is now empty of them, their place taken with Night Goblins who have been shoved or thrown or tripped into there, and yet they continue to fight amongst themselves for who, presumably, is in charge of the slave pit. The only places where there aren't squabbling Goblins are where there are the rat-beasts you saw earlier, free of their cages and happily preying upon the Night Goblins that purchased them.
[Clan Angrund vs Goblins: Martial, 57+20=77 vs 11+10=21.]
[Your contribution: Martial, 56+19=75.]
[Belegar's contribution: Martial, 19+25=44.]
The Night Goblins collectively put up almost as little resistance as the King's Gates did to Kragg's hammer.
It's like no battle you've ever experienced, and if anything seems more like Sigmartag back when you were a mere apprentice, when the Magisters would conceal candies throughout the Grey College and encourage you all to seek them out. Once it becomes clear that nothing can dissuade the Night Goblins of their disputes, any notion of an orderly line of battle is lost and everyone rushes ahead of each other to bloody their weapon while they still can. You manage to account for a half-dozen, including a pair that were wrestling with each other and you're quite proud to have decapitated in a single swing of your greatsword.
Behind you all, watching with befuddlement clear on his face, Belegar watches it all unfold. With a scrap of greenskin cloth you wipe your blade clean as you return to his side, having decided to stop competing with Clan Angrund for what fun there was left to be had. In the distance, the faint chorus of arguing from adjoining tunnels begins to transform to shrieks of surprise and agony as Dwarves spill out, seeking any as-yet unpurged greenskins.
"I guess that Boss was more important than I thought," you say, nodding towards the platform where his corpse still lay, though someone had gathered up the Warpstone shards and pried their remnants from the dead Goblin's gums.
He has no response, as what he expected to be the climactic battle of the Expedition's reconquest ends with one of the younger and more boisterous members of Clan Angrund using the corpse of a dead rat as a projectile to finish off the last living Night Goblin in the slave pit.
There's no more excitement to be had here. Will you go searching for it elsewhere?
[ ] The Hangars above.
[ ] The Chiselwards below.
[ ] The Highways, where Karag Lhune joins the rest of the Karak.
[ ] Kragg and his Unsealing.
[ ] The reinforcements waiting at the Gates.
[ ] Remain with Belegar.
- Well. That happened.
- Belegar will only see action again in the immediate future if the reinforcements waiting at the Gates are deployed and prove insufficient.
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Doomed Wombat
Let's go Darling!
- Location
- Dancing on wires!
Huh...
Apparently killing the random boss payed off after all
So it seems we did a lot more work than anticiapted...eggsailent!
Apparently killing the random boss payed off after all
So it seems we did a lot more work than anticiapted...eggsailent!
- Location
- United States of America
That's... that's beautiful.
Alectai
Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion
Yep.
That being said, that's a... Highly auspicious start to the main part of the campaign. That "Hundred of troll swarm" would have been devastating if we didn't have warning of them--and now that's a hundred dead trolls at the cost of nothing of real consequence. (Slayers dying in battle is a good thing after all). We've seized the gates and the main hall, and our forces have barely dipped into their reserves.
Mathilde's best at this point fighting in a place with a lot of asymmetric warfare, given how we've apparently unintentionally broken the Crooked Moon's back with a single bullet and a chase scene, the other theatres are liable to get heavily reinforced anyway, so making sure we've cleaned out the urban part seems wise.
[X] The Chiselwards below.
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Jesus christ.
Alectai
Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion
I guess we geeked the current Crooked Moon Lord, huh?
Also, unless some serious fucking bullshit happened, with that roll exchange, the Skaven probably got annihilated. A wounded Lord, limited numbers, and surrounded by frenzying goblins is not conductive to a successful escape.
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Sinsystems
Patron Librarian
So I suppose someone is going to have to write a Goblin Quest: Crooked Moon omake now, since the players of that are probably crying bullshit.
BungieONI
Seven gremlins in a trench coat
- Location
- Lickwidget
- Pronouns
- She/Her
See this is why I like him! He's great!
Especially that ending bit lol.
There's no more excitement to be had here. Will you go searching for it elsewhere?
[ ] The Hangars above.
[ ] The Chiselwards below.
[ ] The Highways, where Karag Lhune joins the rest of the Karak.
[ ] Kragg and his Unsealing.
[ ] The reinforcements waiting at the Gates.
[X] Remain with Belegar.
Arrrumm. Honestly I'm pretty interested in sticking to Belegar like glue, the dude is really cool. And it'd give some interesting down time.
I'll stick with that for the moment, but the other options are awesome as well and if I had to go for any I think the Chiselwards would be good because Mathilde is a right proper terror in an urban tunnel fight like that. @BoneyM what's up with our Journeymanlings? Are they with the main force?
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Doomed Wombat
Let's go Darling!
- Location
- Dancing on wires!
So if I read this right we managed to almost single handidly retake one of the eight peaks...is that about accurate?
- Location
- Brazil
Hangars, not hangers.
I just started laughing when I saw this.
If the dwarves don't yet have a word of "shenanigans", it will probably sound a lot like "Mathilde Weber".
BungieONI
Seven gremlins in a trench coat
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- Lickwidget
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- She/Her
Ehhh not really. More like we were extremely helpful in setting it up so the Dwarves of the Vanguard could get the foothold and foot in the door they needed.