Massgamer
Advance toward the Future
- Location
- The Future
Yeah that makes sense.
@Nervos Belli can I convince you to alter your plan to change gun industry to Dragon forge for stated reasons?
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Warhammer Fantasy: Norsca United! (CK2)
- Thread starter ancusohm
- Start date
@Nervos Belli can I convince you to alter your plan to change gun industry to Dragon forge for stated reasons?
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Thinking about it, I think I might change my vote. The Heimgard rules the Waves and Graeling naval coordination MIGHT not mean as much if the northern seas freeze and the Chaos legions just walk on over, but it helps in different ways.
It binds the ties between us and our allies closer, it potentially helps out Skeggi by maybe smacking down pirates in the area, and when we deal with Settra we're going to NEED a strong navy and control of the seas just to get down there.
The first result is definitely helpful with things still tenuous with the Empire, the issues with Kislev following the succession, and the dwindling active support post-Storm from Ulthuan.
It binds the ties between us and our allies closer, it potentially helps out Skeggi by maybe smacking down pirates in the area, and when we deal with Settra we're going to NEED a strong navy and control of the seas just to get down there.
The first result is definitely helpful with things still tenuous with the Empire, the issues with Kislev following the succession, and the dwindling active support post-Storm from Ulthuan.
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Nervos Belli
Don't think this means you've won!
- Location
- Murica
The rune benefits from dragon forge are likely to take as long or longer than the gun industry to come into effect, and getting the guns online plugs a major hole in our line of battle. The only immediate benefit I can see from the forge is more tax income, and I'd rather get the foundry up as soon as possible.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
What about when combined with getting the dwarves up to snuff via feeding them?
Massgamer
Advance toward the Future
- Location
- The Future
Personally want the airforce to combat the flying monsters we will no doubt face during the Storm and we can always increase the navy next turn.
I think we are hoping that feeding the Dwarfs and the Dragon forge will provide synergy to the benefits like getting more high level Runesmith to migrate north for the chance to use it.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I want both navy and Air Force this turn.
Nervos Belli
Don't think this means you've won!
- Location
- Murica
Science doesn't happen overnight. It'll likely take a few years for them to work out what exactly they can do with dragonfire, and then a few more to get it working.
The north has most of the best runesmiths anyways, and I'm sure the opportunity to reclaim lost knowledge from old holds has drawn plenty of the southern dwarves already. And so long as we get the food shortage resolved, I don't see why any more runesmiths wouldn't just come next turn. I can't think of anything where the timing would be important.
King Arthur
The Once and Future King
I don't mean to make more work for you, but is there any chance you could add in the flavor text of the Dharbreakers being set up? I'd quite like to read it, it's the culmination of a ton of hard work and I really want to see it happen instead of just be told that it happened if you get what I'm saying.AN: So apparently, I can't count. I initially thought you all had spent a Piety action last turn to make the last set of Dharbreaks. Then I thought I had given you one too many actions, so I deleted it. Upon further inspections 3 =/= 4.I'm retroactively giving you the Dharbreaks, and, as an apology, I'm ruling that they've all been set up properly.
Massgamer
Advance toward the Future
- Location
- The Future
Speaking of which I'm sure the High Elves would have helped when we set up the Dhar Breaker network across Heimgard so it has the most coverage like the Waystones do for their island.
Not sure whether it's multi-year or only a partial fix.
In either case, mages helps us more right now. Giants can wait.
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Before the Storm by HeWhoAdds (Semicanon. Counts as three. Not-used)
- Location
- The Middle of the Howling Wilderness
Alright, I've got another Omake for y'all, let me know what you think.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Before the Storm
Thorfin the Holy, Chieftain of Jotunheim, High King of Heimgard, and mortal hand of the Allfather, watched his people prepare for the end of the world. Storms of Chaos always brought great suffering on those who sought to oppose the Ruinous Powers, and there could be no doubt that what was building to the north was one such Storm. The Chaos Wastes were boiling with gathering power, great plumes of Dhar bursting forth from the roiling mass of energies, some reaching far enough to be dispersed by the monolithic Dharbreaks that covered the lands of Heimgard. Though relatively few bursts of power reached Heimgard proper, many could be seen as far south as the Sea of Claws, the hellish bursts reaching up towards the heavens, contrasting jarringly with the gentle, constant light of the aurora.
Fortunately, the watchposts the Asur had established along the coasts of the Northern Wastes had given Heimgard enough warning to erect their prepared defenses before even these preliminary bursts of magical energy, though they were but light winds before the hurricane that was to come. Thousands of men, hundreds of Ogres, and even some of Heimgard's mighty War Mammoths had be conscripted into the desperate effort to erect the hundreds of enormous, rune-carved pillars that drove back the insidious influence of Dhar, but even that was not enough to truly protect Heimgard.
Thorfin stood on a high balcony, carved from the face of the mountains themselves, overlooking a broad, flattened plateau before him. Above him, the grey-gold light of the Centraland sky poked through the eternal clouds of central Norsca, giving the broad plateau a unearthly cast, with strange golden light seeming to dance across the ground in great waves. The plateau eventually gave way to a broad valley, which ran, somewhat crookedly, all the way to the Sea of Chaos. Thorfin almost thought that, if he stared hard enough, he could see clear across that sea to the Wastes themselves. Even if he could not, it was not difficult to imagine what he would see. Along the coast, dead men in the furs and leathers of the northern savages. Allies against a common foe. Inland, though, the sights would become stranger. Hellish armies would be mustering, thousands upon thousands of warriors, savages who worship the dark gods who had reigned unchallenged in the Wastes for time out of mind.
That was the true danger of the Storm of Chaos. The power of Chaos was waxing full in the mortal world, and the four Gods would be naming champions, uniting the disparate tribes of the northlands, teaching men to call forth the demons of Chaos. An army was being forged in that frozen, corrupted wasteland; an army that would fall upon the Old World with all the force that the Ruinous Powers could muster. Heimgard was where that blow would fall the hardest. Thorfin could only hope that they would have strength enough to weather that storm.
Or perhaps, he mused, Heimgard could do more than batten down the shutters before the hurricane. Below the stone carved balcony, at the base of the huge cliff that the Norscan Dwarf miners had carved into a crude, functional base, the forces of Order prepared their counter-stroke. From his position several hundred feet above the ground, he could see the vast ritual apparatus laid out before him. An set of enormous, concentric rings, carved deeply into the nearly flat, rocky plateau by teams of dwarves, covered several square miles of the ritual ground. At eight points along the edge of the outermost ring, small towers rose, carved with runes to help the human mages inside channel one of the eight winds of magic, as part of a ritual so dizzyingly complex that Thorfin, even with his knowledge of High Magic, could barely understand.
In the distance, Thorfin could just make out the one responsible for the creation of this mad plan. Hall Hromundsson, Last Priest of the Old Ones, stood near a work site on the far side of the enormous ritual circle, directing the work team there in the carving of an enormous, impossibly complex runic array, pausing occationally to kneel and confer with the two master Runesmiths standing beside him. The array was one of dozens placed among the concentric rings of the ritual circle, emplaced to conduct and contain the enormous currents of magic that the ritual would create.
These days, Thorfin often found himself marveling at the depth of knowledge that the ancient Jotun displayed. While Hall had reintroduced the Jotunheimers to several long-forgotten runes, much of what he had taught Thorfin's people was how to use the mind-bogglingly complicated interactions of dozens of different runes to achieve effects far beyond the sum of the constituent runes. The knowledge of the Old Ones was vast indeed. But, as Thorfin reminded himself, even the Old Ones had fallen to Chaos in the end. A dark thought, but during a Storm of Chaos dark thoughts are often the truest. Could Heimgard hold against the Ruinous powers, even when so much was lost to their destruction?
Something of his worry must have touched his face, because Bogdan, standing beside him on the balcony, placed his hand gently on Thorfin's shoulder.
"This WILL work" he assured Thorfin, his voice confident. "Hall has show you his calculations. We can do this."
Thorfin gave Bogdan a tired smile.
"When did you become such an optimist?" He asked, eyeing his ward skeptically. Bogdan returned Thorfin's smile with a one of his own.
"Around the time I realized that I wasn't going to be executed by my own mother for being a mage, I expect." Bogdan replied, seeming awfully chipper for someone discussing the narrowness of his escape from the headsman's axe in Kislev.
"Or maybe it was when I learned there was an honest-to-Dhaz Sky Titan living in Jotunheim. Or when a ragtag band of Norscans killed an EVERCHOSEN OF CHAOS". Bogdan grew more serious. "We may not have all the knowledge of the Old Ones, Thorfin, but we have enough! Men have weathered Storms of Chaos before, and we can do it again."
For a long moment, silence rained on the balcony, disturbed only by the faint sounds of the people laboring below. Finally, Thorfin spoke.
"Though much is taken, much abides." he said.
"That had the smell of quotation about it" Bogdan said curiously, "what book is that from?"
"Not a book, Bogdan" Thorfin corrected gently "We have precious few of those in Heimgard, unfortunately. It's from a very old poem."
"A poem?" Bogdan asked, almost incredulous, "I didn't think you Jotunheimers cared much for the stuff."
"We don't" Thorfin replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "We're much to practical for that sort of thing. No, the really passionate poets in Heimgard are the Bjornlings. If there's one thing those crazy saltsoaked bastards like more then insane seafaring expeditions to distant lands, it's sitting in one of their longhouses, drinking mead and listening to epic poems about insane seafaring voyages to distant lands."
"What does Bjornling poetry have to do with High Magic rituals?" Bogdan asked, more curious than incredulous.
"The quote comes from a section of an old Bjornling epic, by the old Bjornling chief Uldred Ten-sons, about the fall of the Norscans. The full section goes something like this:
Though much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved heaven and earth, that which we are, we are
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time, and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield"
Silence once again reigned on the stone balcony, with only a whisper of cold north winds to intrude on the thoughts of the pair. Both stared north for a long time. Finally, Bogdan spoke, quietly.
"....and not to yield" he echoed, "I like that. I'd like to think I could live that boast."
"That is the most a father could ask of his son-in-law, Bogdan," Thorfin answer gravely, then, more quietly "or a king could ask of his people."
Thorfin turned away from Bogdan, looking north. Then, so quietly that Bogdan had to strain to catch each word, he spoke again.
"I can only hope that it will be enough."
------------------------------------------------------------------
1390 words
So, that was a long Omake to write. Let me know what you thought of it. Constructive criticism is welcomed and encouraged
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Before the Storm
Thorfin the Holy, Chieftain of Jotunheim, High King of Heimgard, and mortal hand of the Allfather, watched his people prepare for the end of the world. Storms of Chaos always brought great suffering on those who sought to oppose the Ruinous Powers, and there could be no doubt that what was building to the north was one such Storm. The Chaos Wastes were boiling with gathering power, great plumes of Dhar bursting forth from the roiling mass of energies, some reaching far enough to be dispersed by the monolithic Dharbreaks that covered the lands of Heimgard. Though relatively few bursts of power reached Heimgard proper, many could be seen as far south as the Sea of Claws, the hellish bursts reaching up towards the heavens, contrasting jarringly with the gentle, constant light of the aurora.
Fortunately, the watchposts the Asur had established along the coasts of the Northern Wastes had given Heimgard enough warning to erect their prepared defenses before even these preliminary bursts of magical energy, though they were but light winds before the hurricane that was to come. Thousands of men, hundreds of Ogres, and even some of Heimgard's mighty War Mammoths had be conscripted into the desperate effort to erect the hundreds of enormous, rune-carved pillars that drove back the insidious influence of Dhar, but even that was not enough to truly protect Heimgard.
Thorfin stood on a high balcony, carved from the face of the mountains themselves, overlooking a broad, flattened plateau before him. Above him, the grey-gold light of the Centraland sky poked through the eternal clouds of central Norsca, giving the broad plateau a unearthly cast, with strange golden light seeming to dance across the ground in great waves. The plateau eventually gave way to a broad valley, which ran, somewhat crookedly, all the way to the Sea of Chaos. Thorfin almost thought that, if he stared hard enough, he could see clear across that sea to the Wastes themselves. Even if he could not, it was not difficult to imagine what he would see. Along the coast, dead men in the furs and leathers of the northern savages. Allies against a common foe. Inland, though, the sights would become stranger. Hellish armies would be mustering, thousands upon thousands of warriors, savages who worship the dark gods who had reigned unchallenged in the Wastes for time out of mind.
That was the true danger of the Storm of Chaos. The power of Chaos was waxing full in the mortal world, and the four Gods would be naming champions, uniting the disparate tribes of the northlands, teaching men to call forth the demons of Chaos. An army was being forged in that frozen, corrupted wasteland; an army that would fall upon the Old World with all the force that the Ruinous Powers could muster. Heimgard was where that blow would fall the hardest. Thorfin could only hope that they would have strength enough to weather that storm.
Or perhaps, he mused, Heimgard could do more than batten down the shutters before the hurricane. Below the stone carved balcony, at the base of the huge cliff that the Norscan Dwarf miners had carved into a crude, functional base, the forces of Order prepared their counter-stroke. From his position several hundred feet above the ground, he could see the vast ritual apparatus laid out before him. An set of enormous, concentric rings, carved deeply into the nearly flat, rocky plateau by teams of dwarves, covered several square miles of the ritual ground. At eight points along the edge of the outermost ring, small towers rose, carved with runes to help the human mages inside channel one of the eight winds of magic, as part of a ritual so dizzyingly complex that Thorfin, even with his knowledge of High Magic, could barely understand.
In the distance, Thorfin could just make out the one responsible for the creation of this mad plan. Hall Hromundsson, Last Priest of the Old Ones, stood near a work site on the far side of the enormous ritual circle, directing the work team there in the carving of an enormous, impossibly complex runic array, pausing occationally to kneel and confer with the two master Runesmiths standing beside him. The array was one of dozens placed among the concentric rings of the ritual circle, emplaced to conduct and contain the enormous currents of magic that the ritual would create.
These days, Thorfin often found himself marveling at the depth of knowledge that the ancient Jotun displayed. While Hall had reintroduced the Jotunheimers to several long-forgotten runes, much of what he had taught Thorfin's people was how to use the mind-bogglingly complicated interactions of dozens of different runes to achieve effects far beyond the sum of the constituent runes. The knowledge of the Old Ones was vast indeed. But, as Thorfin reminded himself, even the Old Ones had fallen to Chaos in the end. A dark thought, but during a Storm of Chaos dark thoughts are often the truest. Could Heimgard hold against the Ruinous powers, even when so much was lost to their destruction?
Something of his worry must have touched his face, because Bogdan, standing beside him on the balcony, placed his hand gently on Thorfin's shoulder.
"This WILL work" he assured Thorfin, his voice confident. "Hall has show you his calculations. We can do this."
Thorfin gave Bogdan a tired smile.
"When did you become such an optimist?" He asked, eyeing his ward skeptically. Bogdan returned Thorfin's smile with a one of his own.
"Around the time I realized that I wasn't going to be executed by my own mother for being a mage, I expect." Bogdan replied, seeming awfully chipper for someone discussing the narrowness of his escape from the headsman's axe in Kislev.
"Or maybe it was when I learned there was an honest-to-Dhaz Sky Titan living in Jotunheim. Or when a ragtag band of Norscans killed an EVERCHOSEN OF CHAOS". Bogdan grew more serious. "We may not have all the knowledge of the Old Ones, Thorfin, but we have enough! Men have weathered Storms of Chaos before, and we can do it again."
For a long moment, silence rained on the balcony, disturbed only by the faint sounds of the people laboring below. Finally, Thorfin spoke.
"Though much is taken, much abides." he said.
"That had the smell of quotation about it" Bogdan said curiously, "what book is that from?"
"Not a book, Bogdan" Thorfin corrected gently "We have precious few of those in Heimgard, unfortunately. It's from a very old poem."
"A poem?" Bogdan asked, almost incredulous, "I didn't think you Jotunheimers cared much for the stuff."
"We don't" Thorfin replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "We're much to practical for that sort of thing. No, the really passionate poets in Heimgard are the Bjornlings. If there's one thing those crazy saltsoaked bastards like more then insane seafaring expeditions to distant lands, it's sitting in one of their longhouses, drinking mead and listening to epic poems about insane seafaring voyages to distant lands."
"What does Bjornling poetry have to do with High Magic rituals?" Bogdan asked, more curious than incredulous.
"The quote comes from a section of an old Bjornling epic, by the old Bjornling chief Uldred Ten-sons, about the fall of the Norscans. The full section goes something like this:
Though much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved heaven and earth, that which we are, we are
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time, and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield"
Silence once again reigned on the stone balcony, with only a whisper of cold north winds to intrude on the thoughts of the pair. Both stared north for a long time. Finally, Bogdan spoke, quietly.
"....and not to yield" he echoed, "I like that. I'd like to think I could live that boast."
"That is the most a father could ask of his son-in-law, Bogdan," Thorfin answer gravely, then, more quietly "or a king could ask of his people."
Thorfin turned away from Bogdan, looking north. Then, so quietly that Bogdan had to strain to catch each word, he spoke again.
"I can only hope that it will be enough."
------------------------------------------------------------------
1390 words
So, that was a long Omake to write. Let me know what you thought of it. Constructive criticism is welcomed and encouraged
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- Pronouns
- He/Him
I really like the visual details you give on both the preparations and the scenery. And you do a good job for showing an interesting thing: for all that Thorfin is so much more than a man, he's still largely mortal in his faults and human traits and, when you squint, normality.
He's learned and grown a LOT, and ascended to a new level, but he still remains that amazingly ordinary shaman he was at the beginning, just old, wiser, and more experienced.
That being said, as a demigod, I would think he would at least appear somewhat different, better, than a mere mortal human. If the Everqueen can be more than mortal, so can Thorfin.
You're leaving out a lot of periods at the end of stated quotes, though.
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- Location
- his hidden lair
Wow, just wow.
You got fantasy vikings to quote Tennyson and have it fit the scene perfectly, kudos, maestro, kudos indeed.
Like Eva said, a great job showcasing Thorfin as being wise without being without fault as well as describing the ritual in wonderful detail.
- Location
- The Middle of the Howling Wilderness
Thanks!
Yeah, I was looking through Thorfin's character sheet while writing this and I was kinda struck by how average his is, for someone who's become the avatar of a god. For all his magic power and accomplishments, he's still a pretty normal guy, who's probably struggling under the weight of the responsibilities he's shouldered.
And yeah, I'll go back through and do some grammar checking. I'll freely admit that english grammar is not my strong suit.
The part of Ulysses I quoted is remarkably appropriate for so much of the Warhammer Fantasy universe, in my view, especially the Elves and Dwarves. The theme of faded glory past it's prime, still striving towards their goal, is something that shows up again and again in WHF. I'm pretty hyped that I got to use it, though. Ulysses is a fun poem.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I hope that what happened to Centraland and finding out more about what happened will lend to the Counter Storm. It'd be hilariously ironic poetic justice.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
What would happen if 200 or more was reached due to bonuses on a roll? That's at least a hundred for overflow. Doesn't that mean it would just end in an infinite loop going "1d100+=<100" over and over?
If exactly 200 was reached, wouldn't that mean there's only a 1% chance for the second roll to reach 200 again?
The current system(if the overflow isn't limited) is designed to run out eventually(unless we roll nothing but natural 100s)...
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Yeah, you're right. Got things mixed up a bit.
Excellent omake @HeWhoAdds
There is just one small lore error in it. Hall is not the Last Priest of the Old Ones. He is the last Jotun priest but there are still quite a few Slann Mage Priests in Lustria.
There is just one small lore error in it. Hall is not the Last Priest of the Old Ones. He is the last Jotun priest but there are still quite a few Slann Mage Priests in Lustria.
King Arthur
The Once and Future King
As a side note, are any of the omakes dedicated to finding out what happened in Centraland? Cause that's like super important.
My big worry is that, you know, the portal in the sky is not permanent. If that is the case that roll is super important as that will hopefully let us find that out and help us figure out how to make it permanent.
My big worry is that, you know, the portal in the sky is not permanent. If that is the case that roll is super important as that will hopefully let us find that out and help us figure out how to make it permanent.
The Storm will probably sustain it as long as it blows since that was what the original Warp rifts were running on. So I agree that we will probably have to work to make it permanent.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Well, I'm planning on setting a policy of "top priority: anti-failure. Secondary priority: anti-Crit-fail. Tertiary priority: Crit success" barring my bonuses not being allowed for that. I guess if you're really worried you could roll out something and smack it on that option. It's a 90% chance of success, just needs something over 500 words (+10 bonus) to auto-succeed.
Plus, everyone's going for it as an option, so it will almost certainly be chosen.