Warhammer Fantasy: Honor is all, Chivalry is all (Bretonnia CK2)
- Thread starter Voikirium
- Start date
- Location
- Sweden
Wow. That is a lot of gold. We won't have any of our Druchii gold left after we fix this whole thing.
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
That's not money you spend directly, that's getting people back to work and resuming the flow of commerce and getting villages and such rebuilt.
That said, yes, it will be expensive.
The Second Triplets
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Grandkids
Your grandchildren by Godfrey and Annick; born in 1444, they are hale, hearty and well. Annick has declared she will be having no more children for at least five years.
Bertrand Folcard
A good child, well-born; he looks the splitting image of his great-grandfather.
Traits:
Adorable: Ah, look at that, he's reaching for the sword~ (+1 Diplomacy)
Strong: Look, all I'm trying to say is, it's a bit strange that a baby can snap a stick, alright? All I'm saying. (+3 Martial, +1 Diplomacy)
Playful: Giggly little thing. (+1 Diplomacy)
Baby: He is a baby. (All Stats set to zero)
Stats:
Martial: 24+3-27=0
Piety: 16-16=0
Diplomacy: 19+1+1-21=0
Intrigue: 11-11=0
Learning: 13-13=0
Stewardship: 14
Ysolt Folcard
Strange, and oddly silent but for dreams that, by the screaming and giggling, must be something fierce.
Traits:
Adorable: Ah, she's like a button. (+1 Diplomacy)
Silent: But for her dream, she does not stir over-much. (+1 Piety)
Odd: You will occasionally discover her sleeping in strange locations, such as under the statue of Martrud. (+1 Piety)
Baby: She's a baby. (All Stats set at 0)
Stats:
Martial: 20-20=0
Piety: 20+1+1-22=0
Diplomacy: 11+1-12=0
Intrigue: 11-11=0
Learning: 8-8=0
Stewardship: 10-10=0
Gauvain Folcard:
The youngest of this lot; he came out kicking and screaming, and was walking by the time he was six months old.
Traits:
Strong: Baby SMASH stupid plush castle! (+3 Martial, +1 Diplomacy)
Ambitious: Hardcore, for someone who can't speak yet. (+2 All Stats)
Pensive: Thoughtful, so far as babies go, anyway. (+1 Piety)
Baby: He's a baby-- he doesn't really do much except toddle around and keep trying to grab your and Godfrey's swords. (All Stats set to zero)
Stats:
Martial: 23+3+2-28=0
Piety: 17+1+2-20=0
Diplomacy: 11+2-13=0
Intrigue: 17+2-19=0
Learning: 9+2-11=0
Stewardship: 12+2-14=0
--
Next turn will be up tomorrow.
Your grandchildren by Godfrey and Annick; born in 1444, they are hale, hearty and well. Annick has declared she will be having no more children for at least five years.
Bertrand Folcard
A good child, well-born; he looks the splitting image of his great-grandfather.
Traits:
Adorable: Ah, look at that, he's reaching for the sword~ (+1 Diplomacy)
Strong: Look, all I'm trying to say is, it's a bit strange that a baby can snap a stick, alright? All I'm saying. (+3 Martial, +1 Diplomacy)
Playful: Giggly little thing. (+1 Diplomacy)
Baby: He is a baby. (All Stats set to zero)
Stats:
Martial: 24+3-27=0
Piety: 16-16=0
Diplomacy: 19+1+1-21=0
Intrigue: 11-11=0
Learning: 13-13=0
Stewardship: 14
Ysolt Folcard
Strange, and oddly silent but for dreams that, by the screaming and giggling, must be something fierce.
Traits:
Adorable: Ah, she's like a button. (+1 Diplomacy)
Silent: But for her dream, she does not stir over-much. (+1 Piety)
Odd: You will occasionally discover her sleeping in strange locations, such as under the statue of Martrud. (+1 Piety)
Baby: She's a baby. (All Stats set at 0)
Stats:
Martial: 20-20=0
Piety: 20+1+1-22=0
Diplomacy: 11+1-12=0
Intrigue: 11-11=0
Learning: 8-8=0
Stewardship: 10-10=0
Gauvain Folcard:
The youngest of this lot; he came out kicking and screaming, and was walking by the time he was six months old.
Traits:
Strong: Baby SMASH stupid plush castle! (+3 Martial, +1 Diplomacy)
Ambitious: Hardcore, for someone who can't speak yet. (+2 All Stats)
Pensive: Thoughtful, so far as babies go, anyway. (+1 Piety)
Baby: He's a baby-- he doesn't really do much except toddle around and keep trying to grab your and Godfrey's swords. (All Stats set to zero)
Stats:
Martial: 23+3+2-28=0
Piety: 17+1+2-20=0
Diplomacy: 11+2-13=0
Intrigue: 17+2-19=0
Learning: 9+2-11=0
Stewardship: 12+2-14=0
--
Next turn will be up tomorrow.
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- Location
- Sweden
Well, he's going to end up capable of murdering everything ever.
King Arthur
The Once and Future King
Think your math might be off here.
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Crazy part is, they aren't the scariest babies about to be born/come of age in Bretonnia.
Compared to Louen and his Puissant Virtue bullshit, just to name the most obvious example, it ain't gonna be shit.
Fixed it, just before you posted.
TFW You hiding that one of them just got hit by the "Random Magic Bullshit" Bug.
So's Gauvain with his base Martial of 28. The scary thing about Gauvain is that he's also got a base intrigue score of 19. Yikes
- Location
- Mists of Albion
He also has diplo 21 so he won't be that bad at talking either....
- Location
- Sweden
I will never admit anything!
Spectrum
Tell me a secret~
- Location
- Behind you~
The hero husbandry goes well I see.
I merely pray to the Lady, openly and entirely over the table.
Tryamour
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Tryamour
"I have made my heart of well-beat gold and jewels; any gift one should seek to give is one would hope to receive, no?"
-The Bard Julius, supposedly quoting Tryamour
(Source)
Every court has its champions, and the Court Invulnerable is no exception. But where the other courts have made their champions soldiers, or mages, or tricksters, the Court of the Earth has made its great representative a crafter and builder of beautiful things; for, after all, to kill is not so hard for spirit; but to make, to wrought of the earth, beauty? That is difficult.
Of all beings that feel the weight of ages, Dwarfs alone might match her craft; and even then that is far from a sure thing.
She has built halls where the spirits eat and drink and make merry; crafted jewels and treasure for the great rulers of the Old World that have pleased Mab; but her finest work, her work of millennia, was the construction of bodies, golden and silver, that are fit to house the spirits of the Earth and Stone. For they breathe, they eat, and they feel. Tryamour herself has crafted to house her a body of jade and ivory for most occasions, but countless others that she might hide and never be seen again if she wishes it.
The root of her success in crafting these bodies, fit for fay, is threefold: A mind of diamond, to withstand the racing thoughts of the Spirits; a heart of Gold, that it might never be tarnished; and blood of Quicksilver, to grant alacrity and motion to these constructions. Of the spirits, these fay alone can inhabit these forms, for spirits of all other courts disdain these cheap simulacrums.
Inhabiting these bodies has a curious affect on Fay: They become more substantial, more human, as they see the world through a single set of ruby eyes and with two pairs of hands. This, too, leads to the disdain that the other courts feel for these crafted bodies-- but for treemen, who also gain some understanding of these men and their thirsts and desire to live by their taking on a body afflicted by needs physical, and touched by weight of age.
Now, Tryamour works on a new hall for the Monkey King, one of the lords of the Spirits of that land, who has made bargain with her and her court.
"I have made my heart of well-beat gold and jewels; any gift one should seek to give is one would hope to receive, no?"
-The Bard Julius, supposedly quoting Tryamour
(Source)
Every court has its champions, and the Court Invulnerable is no exception. But where the other courts have made their champions soldiers, or mages, or tricksters, the Court of the Earth has made its great representative a crafter and builder of beautiful things; for, after all, to kill is not so hard for spirit; but to make, to wrought of the earth, beauty? That is difficult.
Of all beings that feel the weight of ages, Dwarfs alone might match her craft; and even then that is far from a sure thing.
She has built halls where the spirits eat and drink and make merry; crafted jewels and treasure for the great rulers of the Old World that have pleased Mab; but her finest work, her work of millennia, was the construction of bodies, golden and silver, that are fit to house the spirits of the Earth and Stone. For they breathe, they eat, and they feel. Tryamour herself has crafted to house her a body of jade and ivory for most occasions, but countless others that she might hide and never be seen again if she wishes it.
The root of her success in crafting these bodies, fit for fay, is threefold: A mind of diamond, to withstand the racing thoughts of the Spirits; a heart of Gold, that it might never be tarnished; and blood of Quicksilver, to grant alacrity and motion to these constructions. Of the spirits, these fay alone can inhabit these forms, for spirits of all other courts disdain these cheap simulacrums.
Inhabiting these bodies has a curious affect on Fay: They become more substantial, more human, as they see the world through a single set of ruby eyes and with two pairs of hands. This, too, leads to the disdain that the other courts feel for these crafted bodies-- but for treemen, who also gain some understanding of these men and their thirsts and desire to live by their taking on a body afflicted by needs physical, and touched by weight of age.
Now, Tryamour works on a new hall for the Monkey King, one of the lords of the Spirits of that land, who has made bargain with her and her court.
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King Arthur
The Once and Future King
For some reason I had guessed that.
Nice.
- Location
- West Michigan
Grail Knights can still die natural deaths. It just takes iirc roughly either 200 or 500 years for it to happen.
It's much more likely that Phillip will die in battle long before then.
- Location
- France
Really? I thought I read somewhere that their natural lifespans was never found because they always died in battle before reaching it.
Anyways, even 200 years mean skipping a lot of Heirs.
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Phillip's probably going to retire at some point.
That, or get killed by some great big beast.
Justine, Bane of the Dragons
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Justine, Bane of the Dragons
The village was burning. Wisps of smoke rose up, even as the rain fell in great sheets. Her steed, noble Valjean, bristled in the cold, even covered by the thick metal and blankets of armor, and Justine ran her hand down his side to calm the mighty mustang; and aside from the crashing of rain on mud, the only sound was that of falling bodies as the blood-thirsty things down below feasted on the inhabitants of the village.
Strung up on the gates were the first knights to come down, poor lads who never stood a chance.
Valjean snorted as he scented corpses on the breeze, his breath coming out in great bursts of icy mists, flowing from his dragon-sculpted helm.
"I know. I know. Soon."
Soon enough one of the other Lancers rode forward, gripping her great pole in hand. "General. Your soldiers are ready."
They came forward in the mud and mire and dirt, yet their cloaks were still bright. Ten, in all. Their armor was scale, and steel; and it rang as they moved, and as they gripped their lances.
Two bore the hammer of Sigmar upon their cloaks, crafted of golden thread.
Two the eagles of Myrmidia, bright and shining.
Two had no cloaks-- but their heads were bared, as Ulric demanded.
Two bore the dread Dragon-Sculpt helms of Seppel, and their cloaks were crafted of the scaled hides of beasts and foul things.
And two...two bore the green of Byorlack, the Marsh-Lord.
"You've waited long enough, so I'll keep this simple. We have no back-up, no intelligence, and no magic.
There are children down there that need us.
Let's go."
Justine spurred her horse, and by a single kick of her heel was away. Valjean's hooves beat a drum-line into the Earth, a great stampede of thunder as the marshy mud was crushed under hooves. Her armor jingled, even as the rain fell off it; and she grinned the grin of battle-lust as it fell upon her, engulfed her, touched her.
Distantly she heard the sound of The Companions; but they faded as the earth and and the rain and everything but the pounding of blood in her ears and the feeling of lance in hand faded away to nothing.
The first vampire managed to look up before her oaken shaft pierced its skull, sent it to the ground; it shattered as it plunged into flesh and the waters laid upon burnt the flesh of the foe but that was nothing, less than nothing, as she drew her sword charged even further forward, the sword the Graf-to-be had given her, the blade dipped in death, and then unleashed her and distantly she thanked him.
And then there was nothing but battle as the Companions fell upon these killers with death.
She heard a whip, the sound of bow string striking against the steel of armor-- and even before she could think, could process, her shield was flying up, blocking the blow, and a second later a shattered arrowhead flew and split the vampire's eye.
And then there was red and fire and battle and fighting and glory and honor!
When she came back to, crying child in her arms, Justine was glad to be here, in this mud-hole, and no-where else.
For no-where else might she be this free.
--
So yeah, Justine likes where she's at, at least. Anyone like to guess which of her family she's most like?
Also, I have updated her character sheet for her training.
The village was burning. Wisps of smoke rose up, even as the rain fell in great sheets. Her steed, noble Valjean, bristled in the cold, even covered by the thick metal and blankets of armor, and Justine ran her hand down his side to calm the mighty mustang; and aside from the crashing of rain on mud, the only sound was that of falling bodies as the blood-thirsty things down below feasted on the inhabitants of the village.
Strung up on the gates were the first knights to come down, poor lads who never stood a chance.
Valjean snorted as he scented corpses on the breeze, his breath coming out in great bursts of icy mists, flowing from his dragon-sculpted helm.
"I know. I know. Soon."
Soon enough one of the other Lancers rode forward, gripping her great pole in hand. "General. Your soldiers are ready."
They came forward in the mud and mire and dirt, yet their cloaks were still bright. Ten, in all. Their armor was scale, and steel; and it rang as they moved, and as they gripped their lances.
Two bore the hammer of Sigmar upon their cloaks, crafted of golden thread.
Two the eagles of Myrmidia, bright and shining.
Two had no cloaks-- but their heads were bared, as Ulric demanded.
Two bore the dread Dragon-Sculpt helms of Seppel, and their cloaks were crafted of the scaled hides of beasts and foul things.
And two...two bore the green of Byorlack, the Marsh-Lord.
"You've waited long enough, so I'll keep this simple. We have no back-up, no intelligence, and no magic.
There are children down there that need us.
Let's go."
Justine spurred her horse, and by a single kick of her heel was away. Valjean's hooves beat a drum-line into the Earth, a great stampede of thunder as the marshy mud was crushed under hooves. Her armor jingled, even as the rain fell off it; and she grinned the grin of battle-lust as it fell upon her, engulfed her, touched her.
Distantly she heard the sound of The Companions; but they faded as the earth and and the rain and everything but the pounding of blood in her ears and the feeling of lance in hand faded away to nothing.
The first vampire managed to look up before her oaken shaft pierced its skull, sent it to the ground; it shattered as it plunged into flesh and the waters laid upon burnt the flesh of the foe but that was nothing, less than nothing, as she drew her sword charged even further forward, the sword the Graf-to-be had given her, the blade dipped in death, and then unleashed her and distantly she thanked him.
And then there was nothing but battle as the Companions fell upon these killers with death.
She heard a whip, the sound of bow string striking against the steel of armor-- and even before she could think, could process, her shield was flying up, blocking the blow, and a second later a shattered arrowhead flew and split the vampire's eye.
And then there was red and fire and battle and fighting and glory and honor!
When she came back to, crying child in her arms, Justine was glad to be here, in this mud-hole, and no-where else.
For no-where else might she be this free.
--
So yeah, Justine likes where she's at, at least. Anyone like to guess which of her family she's most like?
Also, I have updated her character sheet for her training.
- Location
- Australia
Morgyan? They're both extremely female.
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
>TFW You ask a question and expect people to not get it right but then they do but you don't understand how their reasoning led them to their answer
It's a complex kind of feel.