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Warhammer Fantasy: Honor is all, Chivalry is all (Bretonnia CK2)

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Well that's some good news, the woodlands are ever mankind's enemy in the world of Warhammer. It's good to know they'll be better defended in the future.
 
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The Dream Warriors
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    • The Dream Warriors
    (Before the Ulthuan trip)

    Your traveling cloak ripples in the wind, harsh winds cutting through you and setting the wolf-cloak fluttering. The highest peak of Montfort sits before you, if you can make the hike. Morgyan and the rest of your family have already made the trip to Ulthuan, and Éclatant refused to make the flight. It's the most alone you've been in a very long time.

    All around you is white snow and ice, split only by great boulders the same black as the Arks you caught glimpse of as you fought the Executioner. Snow falls in great clumps that make little tings as they strike your armor. There's a sort of electrifying scent of worked steel and stone, magical.

    Men were not meant to come here.

    But then, it's been a very long time since you were just a man.

    Distantly you hear a pulled bowstring, and a moment later an arrow is loosed from the filthy greenskin bow. You turn about, and it punches through the chain of your armor, sliding into your chest. It stops just before your heart, cutting into the meat and muscle of your chest.

    The hobgoblin-- yes, of course it's a hobgoblin, because apparently you haven't killed enough of them. The filthy thing laughs.

    It stops when you reach one hand up and simply snap the rotten construction. A moment later, the arrow's lodged head falls as your flesh pushes it out, the blessing that is your birthright destroying the poison. The hobgoblin tries to run; but you are faster than it, and your sword makes a satisfying thump as the great two-handed blade splits flesh.

    Walking towards the steaming corpse, you see someone has melted a collar onto its filthy flesh. It is made of black iron, and arced to the flesh with sutures of stone.

    "Disgusting, is it not?"

    You wheel about, looking for the speaker. "The wind carries much, knight. Come to my cavern. Then we can speak."

    Keeping your sword unsheathed, you set up the path.

    Beasts attempt to slow your progress, greenskins.

    Unfortunately for them, they have not the strength nor the will to face a Grail Knight.

    And so it is you enter the cavern.

    The floor is crafted of rough-hewn stone, split by spike crafted of diamond. A cold fog runs over the whole of the place; and you cannot see the ceiling. You cannot look into the furthest reaches of the cavern, for the darkness swallows it like the jaws of a snake.

    "Welcome, greenbane." The figure of your dreams is here, you can tell. "Put down your sword."

    You place the blade Kalabairn upon the stony ledge that sits next to you.

    And a moment later, there is light. Your eyes tear up as the sun itself seems to burst into being.

    Then a moment later the silken servant sits before you. He is dressed in reds and golds, his flesh is pale as the stone, and his eyes are red rubies. Tall and thin, built like a tree, he pours something for you from a small pot. "Sit, drink." You bow your head before taking a sip from the small cup. Sweetened, it burns as it goes down. "Tea, from the cupboard of the Monkey King."

    "Why have you summoned me here, spirit?"

    "Dark creatures stir, Grail Knight. The Titans waken once more, for the hour of vengeance the Phoenix promised them is at hand. Albion and Old World alike fit once more together, the scions of the sky. Reclamation is at hand. The lords of the sky would not be so uncouth as not to thank the man who so helped them reforge the host?

    And what better gift is there than knowledge?

    So to you they give this warning, the old rulers: The Ogres are coming. The Druchii have captured or hired whole hordes of the Locust-Gluttons, entire tribes; and even now they prepare to strike the Kingdom. Gates that should be barred to them will be made open, and they will swarm about. The Witch-King has shielded his hand well, and even the Sky Titans know not which of your fellows is dirtied by this treasonous snake in the garden. He will be hard to find, and harder yet to cull, as cancer is. Your king will have need of brave men; for the Druchii grow desperate to cast down the lords of Ulthuan, and could do far worse than a patsy kingdom of slaves.

    Either find this man, or prepare to weather the storm."
     
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    • [] Talk to Teclis; Changed vote

    Dwarfs won't declare a gruge over something as minor as a punch to the face, will they?
     
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    Gingganz said:
    Damn. I thought they reserved that for serious crimes, like insulting the memory of their great-great-granduncle or taking the last beer from the fridge.

    In that case it might be a good idea to go back and check up on what is happening.

    [X] Go check on your family
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    I wouldn't worry about it too much unless it's some high ranking member of a clan it will most likely be just a personal grudge of that one dwarf even then we could solve it because of our good relations with the dwarfs
     
    Gingganz said:
    [] Talk to Teclis; Changed vote

    Dwarfs won't declare a gruge over something as minor as a punch to the face, will they?
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    No-One is punching any dwarfs in any faces after Finubar made it clear exactly what would happen if anyone threatened the fragile peace betwixt the Elder Races.
     
    Vote is called.

    Also, end of the year stuff is upon me. I don't think I'll be going fully radio-silent, but expect more Lore-Stuff for the next two weeks; Wednesday or Thursday of the week after next week, at latest.
     
    Wedding Bash pt.5
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    • Wedding Bash pt.5

    Teclis is just...sitting there, reading. He's dressed in a shabby cloak, tunic, and trousers, as though he's attempting to hide for one reason or another. "How is it that a species so utterly deadly can be so daft at reproducing in times helpful to anyone not a human?"

    "I can maybe help with that."

    The elf looks up.

    "And who are you, human?"

    "Someone who happens to own a Hippogryph that will soon enough be having clutches."

    "Hm. Right to the point, human. Thank you for that small blessing. But if I did buy a Hippogryph from you, I would need your word, Knight, that the stud was a beast of unusual power."

    Brionnian Ancestry, Don't Fail Me Now: 74+10=84

    "Unusual power? Éclatant the Screeching Death has a power and wit that I have never before seen in his kind. His silvery beak and shining black claws have punched through Vampric flesh. It was his mighty hind-quarters what shattered the steel girdle of Feersong Fire-Hand, and cast her broken body into the abyss. His talons rent apart the unclean flesh of Bernd the Godless, destroyed the Necromancer and feasted on his flesh for to keep hims destroyed. And despite their reputation the beast is quite intelligent; he managed to escape from Skaven confinement and set off several caches of their warpstone, making a hell of a racket in the process. His loyalty is, I reckon, well enough that some one of your stature, wise wizard, ought be capable of keeping any descendant of the great beast under check even should you ride them after birth."

    "If this beasts is what you say it is, Executioner's Bane-" Oh good Gilles Teclis knows about you, when did that happen-- "Then I should hope its might would be enough for my purposes." His eyes widen as he remembers something. "Oh, and now that I remember, one Druchii killer to another: Ecalzrus plans to grant you an honor in the midst of the final feast, the reforged helm of Tullaris."

    After that little exchange, you and the Wizard Lord quickly hammer out a few different plans that would be acceptable, and prepare to write a letter home to have Rose check in on that, and interfere discretely if necessary. Hopefully not.

    [] Gold. Money, lucre, the thing that drives the world round. You can always use raw resources, and this would be a better amount than any other.
    [] His aid in rescuing the children of Khypris. The Druchii will not, you think, under-estimate you; but they will not expect you to have Teclis.
    [] One minor favor from Teclis. Not a very big one, in the grand scheme of things-- he will not be making the mountains fertile, or anything of that nature-- but he would be willing to craft a panoply for you in exchange for this beast; apparently he truly needs a...test subject.
    --
    >TFW You get to get creative
     
  • Threadmarks
    • [X] His aid in rescuing the children of Khypris. The Druchii will not, you think, under-estimate you; but they will not expect you to have Teclis.

    This is the best option without a doubt.
     
    [X] His aid in rescuing the children of Khypris. The Druchii will not, you think, under-estimate you; but they will not expect you to have Teclis.

    There's nothing a gloating Druchi deserves more than SUDDENLY TECLIS!:D
     
    [X] His aid in rescuing the children of Khypris. The Druchii will not, you think, under-estimate you; but they will not expect you to have Teclis.
     
    [X] His aid in rescuing the children of Khypris. The Druchii will not, you think, under-estimate you; but they will not expect you to have Teclis.
    Can't blame them for not expecting it. I don't think any of us expected to have him.
     
    Jakobstj said:
    [X] His aid in rescuing the children of Khypris. The Druchii will not, you think, under-estimate you; but they will not expect you to have Teclis.
    Can't blame them for not expecting it. I don't think any of us expected to have him.
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    Yeah, of all the things anyone's prepared for the Montfortians to do, "POCKET TECLIS" wasn't really one of them.
     
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