- Location
- Sweden
Regarding the Virtue of Audacity, what is Philip's base strength?
Warhammer Fantasy: Honor is all, Chivalry is all (Bretonnia CK2)
- Thread starter Voikirium
- Start date
Regarding the Virtue of Audacity, what is Philip's base strength?
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
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- He/Him
4 in tabletop terms.
That said, it would be a pretty good idea to remember that this is not actually the tabletop game and thus rules are balanced more towards long term rulership than they are short term fighting.
What virtue does audacity combine into with Heroism. Right now I'm voting yes despite any mechanical reasons someone brings up, because I love the name of the combined virtue. Well that and that if we keep turning down virtues while looking for the perfect one we won't ever choose anything.
Why is a character limited to two virtues, shouldn't they get whatever virtue they qualify for. Sorry I know you've mentioned this before but I can't find it.
[X] Accept Virtue of the Lady's Favored
King Arthur
The Once and Future King
I wanted to take the Virtue of Duty but no one else was going for it.
Besides, is the Virtue of Noble Disdain any better for long term rulership? Seems it would be worse as it would give us a diplomacy disadvantage against anyone who does anything with ranged stuff.
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Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
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Well it helps you come up with methods of circumventing cannons and guns, for one.
It's also more complicated than "they use guns, fuck them #Chivalry4life".
- Location
- Sweden
Virtue of Audacity looks sufficiently hero-killy to me, especially when combined with Virtue of Heroism.
Nevertheless, there is something to be said for Virtue of the Joust if one wants to utterly murderise heroes.
Nevertheless, there is something to be said for Virtue of the Joust if one wants to utterly murderise heroes.
King Arthur
The Once and Future King
Would it also help with coming up with methods against poison and assassination and trickery and other methods of sullying a fair fight? Cause, as you said here
It wasn't even triggered over ranged stuff in the first place but off of poison and trickery.
[X] Accept Virtue of the Lady's Favored
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Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
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It is the Virtue of the Unshaken.
Speaking of which, if you don't mind:
--
Virtue Available:
Virtue of Audacity: You have never wavered against foes simply because they were stronger, faster, or more powerful than you-- as Grimbreak, Lady Windchill, and now the Fallen Nine can attest. (+2 Martial, +2 Piety, Bonus against foes stronger than you, certain options locked in)
Combines to form:
Virtue of the Unshaken: There is evil in the world. It must be fought in every way-- no matter whether it be man or orc or elf. (Stats unknown)
Accept Virtue of the Unshaken?
[] Accept
[] Decline
Well, I certainly like the sound of that. Besides, being the main character of a Warhammer Fantasy Quest means fighting people who're stronger than you pretty often (almost exclusively so in some cases) so I can see it coming in handy fairly often, even if it gets weakened for combining it.
[X] Accept
[X] Accept
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Derek58
Rocket Punch is Best Punch
- Location
- Getter Valhalla
So this vote replaces the first one?
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
King Arthur
The Once and Future King
[X] Accept
Okay. Sort of a shame, I really liked the title of Virtue of the Lady's Chosen, but that's not really on the cards anymore so I guess there's nothing to be done about it.
Okay. Sort of a shame, I really liked the title of Virtue of the Lady's Chosen, but that's not really on the cards anymore so I guess there's nothing to be done about it.
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
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- He/Him
[X] Accept
- Location
- Sweden
[X] Accept
- Location
- West Michigan
[X] Accept
The Knights Of Restful Death
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
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- He/Him
The Knights of Restful Death
Spring Equinox, Altdorf
The manor is a bastion of life in the cold of the early year. Coated in white snow, stain glass windows throw light onto the streets below as music leaks from the gate. Ladies and Lords of the Empire-- many throwing unwholesome gazes at you-- stream to and fro in the gates, dressed to the nines.
You aren't shabby yourself, of course. You bear a thick leather coat, white as the snow and with your heraldry emblazoned on the arm; over it you bear your wolf-mantle, hanging on your shoulders. Your trousers are black as the night, while your boots are the snow given form.
Your arm is laced in the crook of Morgyan, who wears a bright red ensemble, all lace and frills. You know for a fact that there are at least three knives laced throughout-- one of them holding her hair in the long ponytail it rests in.
You are directed to a small dining room.
Inside, young knights of the Empire feast in a ballroom. A small band plays music in the style of Tilea, soft dulcet notes speaking of warmer days, better times, and quiet indulgence. Fire burns in small pans filled with oil, casting a soft glow.
Finally the music stops as one man, wearing a thick coat and with a mask, rises up. "Friends! Colleagues! New comers! I am Burchard der Sonne, Lord of these, the Knights of Restful Death.
If you are here, then that means one of two things: either you really reached the wrong party..."
Polite laughter from the crowd.
Near you, Morgyan's waiter asks if she'd like anything to drink-- only to stiffen awkwardly. Before you can ask why, the speech continues.
"...or you have in some way contributed in the long war. The only war. The war to crush old night, the war to save the Old World, to keep us all from being dragged into the Aethyr.
Some of you have stood against the Dark Elves, some against the orcs, and some against the perfidious lords of chaos.
But in your-- our-- zeal to stand against the dark, there is a force that has been allowed to fester under our feet. It has killed and killed and killed; they have stolen from us.
I speak of the undead-- necromancers, vampires, and worse. The shambling dead rob our tombs, steal our history, and destroy our armories.
It is for that purpose that for hundreds of years this order has, since its founding by the late great Karl, gathered the artifacts of the Old World, brought them together to a place safe.
From the Blade of Chief Deusedit to the Scrolls of Garsea and the Body of Lamorte, we have kept them safe."
The pause is interrupted by the sound of steel sliding on leather. "Not after tonight."
Your waiter grabs you by the shoulder and tries to stab you in the back. The blade of the cheap dagger gets caught in the wolf pelt-- and spinning around you grab him by the throat before slamming him to the ground.
Morgyan rises daintily from her chair before poking her own waiter. He falls to the ground in a heap, as she pulls the dagger from her hair.
All around you is the sound of fighting as knights realize what is happening. Whipping off your pelt, you pull the dagger from it.
As one waiter rushes at you, again, you slide past, sliding the steel through his ribs. He falls to the ground in a puddle and you begin to wade through the sea. Your strategy is simple-- anyone wearing a waiter's uniform tastes steel, while anyone not is left alone for the moment.
After a few moments the violence has died down-- the at least five knights, and twice that in "waiters", lie dead on the ground.
You and Morgyan sit once more at your table. "So, when'd you figure out what the deal with waiter was?"
"I smelt in the Mortose in my wine as I was about to take a sip. Switched my glass with a glass he was drinking from. Before I could say anything, they attacked."
The knight who was speaking shares a few terse words with a few elderly men before making his way over. "I am... I am so sorry. The plan tonight had been to give you two the body, that you might return it back to Aquitane; but now, it cannot be done. The risk is too great that the undead-- the kin of Nagash-- might make a move during the return, and use his body for some unspeakable end."
Well. Shit.
--
So yeah, bit of a crazy dinner.
Spring Equinox, Altdorf
The manor is a bastion of life in the cold of the early year. Coated in white snow, stain glass windows throw light onto the streets below as music leaks from the gate. Ladies and Lords of the Empire-- many throwing unwholesome gazes at you-- stream to and fro in the gates, dressed to the nines.
You aren't shabby yourself, of course. You bear a thick leather coat, white as the snow and with your heraldry emblazoned on the arm; over it you bear your wolf-mantle, hanging on your shoulders. Your trousers are black as the night, while your boots are the snow given form.
Your arm is laced in the crook of Morgyan, who wears a bright red ensemble, all lace and frills. You know for a fact that there are at least three knives laced throughout-- one of them holding her hair in the long ponytail it rests in.
You are directed to a small dining room.
Inside, young knights of the Empire feast in a ballroom. A small band plays music in the style of Tilea, soft dulcet notes speaking of warmer days, better times, and quiet indulgence. Fire burns in small pans filled with oil, casting a soft glow.
Finally the music stops as one man, wearing a thick coat and with a mask, rises up. "Friends! Colleagues! New comers! I am Burchard der Sonne, Lord of these, the Knights of Restful Death.
If you are here, then that means one of two things: either you really reached the wrong party..."
Polite laughter from the crowd.
Near you, Morgyan's waiter asks if she'd like anything to drink-- only to stiffen awkwardly. Before you can ask why, the speech continues.
"...or you have in some way contributed in the long war. The only war. The war to crush old night, the war to save the Old World, to keep us all from being dragged into the Aethyr.
Some of you have stood against the Dark Elves, some against the orcs, and some against the perfidious lords of chaos.
But in your-- our-- zeal to stand against the dark, there is a force that has been allowed to fester under our feet. It has killed and killed and killed; they have stolen from us.
I speak of the undead-- necromancers, vampires, and worse. The shambling dead rob our tombs, steal our history, and destroy our armories.
It is for that purpose that for hundreds of years this order has, since its founding by the late great Karl, gathered the artifacts of the Old World, brought them together to a place safe.
From the Blade of Chief Deusedit to the Scrolls of Garsea and the Body of Lamorte, we have kept them safe."
The pause is interrupted by the sound of steel sliding on leather. "Not after tonight."
Your waiter grabs you by the shoulder and tries to stab you in the back. The blade of the cheap dagger gets caught in the wolf pelt-- and spinning around you grab him by the throat before slamming him to the ground.
Morgyan rises daintily from her chair before poking her own waiter. He falls to the ground in a heap, as she pulls the dagger from her hair.
All around you is the sound of fighting as knights realize what is happening. Whipping off your pelt, you pull the dagger from it.
As one waiter rushes at you, again, you slide past, sliding the steel through his ribs. He falls to the ground in a puddle and you begin to wade through the sea. Your strategy is simple-- anyone wearing a waiter's uniform tastes steel, while anyone not is left alone for the moment.
After a few moments the violence has died down-- the at least five knights, and twice that in "waiters", lie dead on the ground.
You and Morgyan sit once more at your table. "So, when'd you figure out what the deal with waiter was?"
"I smelt in the Mortose in my wine as I was about to take a sip. Switched my glass with a glass he was drinking from. Before I could say anything, they attacked."
The knight who was speaking shares a few terse words with a few elderly men before making his way over. "I am... I am so sorry. The plan tonight had been to give you two the body, that you might return it back to Aquitane; but now, it cannot be done. The risk is too great that the undead-- the kin of Nagash-- might make a move during the return, and use his body for some unspeakable end."
Well. Shit.
--
So yeah, bit of a crazy dinner.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I, what just happened?
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Well, you just killed the shit out of a bunch of vampires.
Several Months before that, during the Spring Equinox, at a fancy dinner you were invited to at the Tourney, you were going to try and learn more about the people who stole Henri Lamorte's body only for a bunch of assholes to try and Red Wedding you.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
It's always the fancily dressed servant/s...
So the people who tried to kill us, were they a faction of the Restful Death who didn't want to give up Lamorte's body or were they a different group that wanted to take it for themselves?