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Myth: A New Age CYOA

Jester

Arbiter
Joined
Mar 24, 2013
Messages
1,493
On side note those odd smelling crates can contain the explosive undeads. Wights? I dont recall name and i dont feel like looking.
Yeah, those living bombs are called wights. But I highly doubt it's them. The mice wouldn't be that afraid of the crates if it were so.
Emm depends what make them explosive? If its some chemical reactions that would explain that its smell odd part. Combined with rotten flesh smell and unstable ability to explode sound like something to be afraid off. Can be something else to.
 

Jester

Arbiter
Joined
Mar 24, 2013
Messages
1,493
People in fort will be in do or die situation for whole siege, because mages can interfere with gate spell anchoring if i recall.
Not if we dig up the tunnels, they wouldn't be. If our forces can enter the fort through them, they can also leave that way. But I guess we are not leaving, so it's a moot point.
We dont know their layout and would need to spend quite big part of our forces to restore them in reasonable time span. So its unlikely we will do so. And didnt we dump there that big chunk of watcher? Leading there evil archmages might be bad idea.
 

Nevill

Arcane
Joined
Jun 6, 2009
Messages
11,211
Shadorwun: Hong Kong
We dont know their layout and would need to spend quite big part of our forces to restore them in reasonable time span.
It's not like our forces have much to do while the Shade is readying hers for whatever plan she has. We could use this time to explore, and there is a chance the Stoneheim officers know the layout and can navigate the tunnels, though it is highly unlikely.

And didnt we dump there that big chunk of watcher? Leading there evil archmages might be bad idea.
No self-respecting evil archmage (or anyone with half a brain, really) would set a foot into a tunnel to pursue dwarves. :lol: They know better.
 

Grimgravy

Arcane
Patron
Joined
Sep 12, 2013
Messages
3,469
Codex 2016 - The Age of Grimoire
Set me to 5: B No.... We're in largely rocky terrain. We're quite far from the target in rodent terms. So they have to tunnel crazy far to avoid any chance of detection. That's just not feasible. Or they have to sneak our explosives overland. I'm guessing it will take more than 1 mouse/rat to transport our bomb. That's hardly inconspicuous. It's a nice idea but the logistics just aren't there. We shouldn't be using our time and resources here.
 

Nevill

Arcane
Joined
Jun 6, 2009
Messages
11,211
Shadorwun: Hong Kong
The plan was to carry the explosives overland.

We aren't trying to transport a whole bomb. We are transporting gunpowder or whatever it is the dwarves use to blow things up. If each rat can carry 50g of the stuff, with 13 rats (and 2 hares who can carry even more) we can probably bring in from 5 to 10 kg worth of explosives in a few nights. Then it is just a matter of sneaking the detonation mechanism in - which can be really tiny, since we have already transported the explosive substance separately.

It's worth a shot, I think.

It would be easier to teleport the bomb in with a spell, but neither is ready yet, and I am keeping this surprise for the White Mage.
 
Last edited:

archaen

Cipher
Patron
Joined
Mar 10, 2014
Messages
633
Yeah, the plan is to have them hop around the edge of the enemy camp and get fairly close to the tent before tunneling. No need to tunnel out from the keep. If our non line of sight retrieve item spell is working with inanimates we could even have a rat grab the explosives with a charged ring. That could alert the mages though.

We do need to get the explosives to an easier staging point however. Maybe we can have the Eagles ferry our special explosives out to the Blackrock mercenaries and have their best stealther get them closer to the tent so they don't have to make a massive round trip.
 

archaen

Cipher
Patron
Joined
Mar 10, 2014
Messages
633
The way I look at it is that it costs us nothing to try really. The time Lyssa was going to be working with with the animals hasn't changed. If we don't get it in place before they attack we lose a few kilos of explosives. If for some reason our rodents are detected we lose some rodents which we can replace after the siege. Now if it works, we take out what ever is in the tent and possibly the archmage. We have almost nothing to lose and a lot to gain.
 

Fangshi

Arcane
Joined
Jan 9, 2014
Messages
1,997
So it turns out a long weekend is not conducive to getting much work done... or getting much time to oneself either...

Anyway I have some time this evening finally so I will finish typing out the interlude. It should not take more than an hour or two.

The vote will close tomorrow (sixteen hours) since I am behind by a day right now.

The update should come within sixteen hours of that if nothing come up but no promises anymore. I am running out of Interlude material to type up.

Just a final reminder that additional questions have been added to the update since it was first posted. If you want to weigh in on which spells the ladies should keep stored or whether or not to try and blow up the enemy commander you have sixteen hours to do so.

Current Tally:

Sunnmøring:
1.C, 2.B, 3.B, 4. D: x / T: x, 5.x

archaen:
1.E, 2.D, 3.A, 4. D: Heal / T: Greater Energy Bolt, 5.A

Nevill:
1.E, 2.D, 3.A, 4. D: Greater Energy Bolt / T: Greater Firebolt > D: Greater Firebolt / T: Greater Energy Bolt, 5.A

Azira:
1.D, 2.B, 3.A, 4. D: x / T: x, 5.x

Absinthe:
1.E, 2.D, 3.A, 4. D: Heal / T: Heal, 5.x

Grimgravy:
1.D, 2.B, 3.A, 4. D: Greater? Energy Bolt / T: Heal, 5.B

asxetos:
1.A>D, 2.A, 3.A, 4. D: x / T: x, 5.x

Kz3r0:
1.E, 2.D, 3.B, 4. D: Greater Firebolt / T: Greater Energy Bolt, 5.A

Jester:
1.E, 2.D, 3.A, 4. D: Heal / T: Heal, 5.A

1. Blackrock Reinforcement:
A) 1 vote
B)
C) 1 vote
D) 2 votes
E) 5 votes

2. Information:
A) 1 vote
B) 3 votes
C)
D) 5 votes

3. Demon's Deal
A) 7 votes
B) 2 votes

4. Spell Rings
Derryth:
Greater Firebolt - 1 votes
Heal - 3 votes
Energy Bolt - 2 votes

Thaïs' Ring:
Greater Energy Bolt - 2 votes
Heal - 3 votes
Greater Firebolt - 1 vote

5. Operation: Mole Hill
A) 4 votes
B) 1 vote

Post-Flop:

1. Blackrock Reinforcement:
A) 1 vote
B)
C) 1 vote
D) 2 votes
E) 5 votes

2. Information:
A) 1 vote
B) 3 votes
C)
D) 5 votes

3. Demon's Deal
A) 7 votes
B) 2 votes

4. Spell Rings
Derryth:
Greater Firebolt - 2 votes
Heal - 3 votes
Energy Bolt - 1 vote

Thaïs' Ring:
Greater Energy Bolt - 3 votes
Heal - 3 votes

5. Operation: Mole Hill
A) 4 votes
B) 1 vote
 
Last edited:

Fangshi

Arcane
Joined
Jan 9, 2014
Messages
1,997
Interlude 4: The Golden Empress

Dozens of voices chant in unison within the vile temple. Their voices carried high into its vaulted roof, they echo out into the darkness that crowds around the dim lime flames of the temple, the first temple to Bahlíal, the Watcher.

Deep in the heart of the mountains, perched upon the very lip of the Great Devoid. His followers gather to worship his grandeur and bask within his power. A great herd of ghôls gather in silent worship as their priests dance and sing to their patron.

All are joined in this purpose, all are joined in this worship. Or so the priests say but there are many who crave freedom from their new 'master', many that are willing to seize it and she hopes that they will be ready, for tonight her war begins.

"Exalted is he who dies in the name of the Master!" the fat little priest screams upon his dais, "All those that serve loyally shall find immortality in His name!"

It is a line she has heard hundreds of times in the last year alone. They squawk on constantly; those little 'crows', the black robed priests of the Watcher, the Mad Goat of the Fens, Bahl'al or Bahlíal as whim takes him.

Bastard has far too many names she thinks and none of them are worth the time it takes to say them.

She is gathered with the other captains, chiefs and shamans of the clans. They stand together in long rows at the base of the priest's platform. A show of solidarity to reinforce the hold the Watcher has on their people.

From her place she looks out over a sea of faces, young and old, rich and poor, slaves all of them. Slaves of this mage, bought and sold without ever really realizing all they have lost.

Tonight, that changes.

The high priest stretches his arms wide, triumphantly he presses on, impressed and absorbed by his own sermon, "Give thanks to Him, all you gathered here in his glory!" he raises a single hand to point at the statue above them, a black monstrosity carved into the very rock of the temple. From what she understands it is a faithful recreation of the man they all serve, a monstrosity from the dim prehistory of the world. He lets the gaze of his herd drift up to the statue and really focus on it for a moment before continuing. He sweats profusely as he dances upon his platform, invoking the power of his cold, dark lord, "Who here would be anything without his glory! Who here would be great! Who here would be powerful! Who here would be free!"

That is her cue, "Who says we are free now!"

Instantly the service comes to a screeching halt, the high priest stops short and almost tumbles down the steps of his altar so surprised is he that someone would interrupt him, "What do you mean Servant Nanshe? Our master has freed us from the gods of old. He has freed us from the dwarves. He has-"

"Enslaved us!" the chieftain exclaims as she mounts the stairs, stalking closer to her prey, "He has bound us! He has confined us! And when the time is right he will cull us! He is a dead thing in love with dead things and there is but one way our service to him will end! He will betray us, he will kill us, and none will remain to remember our deeds, none will remain to mourn us. None, none will remain, even to laugh at our stupidity!"

The high priest chokes and sputters with rage, "By the Master's will you will be punished, Servant Nanshe!" he reaches into his cloak and draws forth a rod but he has let her get too close. She does not grab at the rod, to do so would be to throw herself into a direct battle of wills with the archmage, a fight she could not hope to win. Instead she grabs the priest by the arm and pulls.

Ghôls are strong and a ghôl bred and forged in battle is stronger still. The little priest screams and tries to break free but she will have none of it. With a foot on his chest she pulls with all her strength and tears his arm off.

He falls to the ground crying as she pitches the rod across the room, "Where is your master, priest! Where are his dark powers! Where is his greatness! Will he save you! No, you will die and none will remember you, none will mourn you, none will even revile you."

She spits at the prone priest, then reaching low she grabs his great, long head in both hands and she pulls.

The remaining priests race for the exits as she gives her signal.

Still with the priest's head in hands she works her spell, an old one, invaluable to life in the desert. It begins to rain, for the first time in an age water touches the stone in this deep cavern, it snuffs out the green flames and plunges the room into utter darkness.

Her people must first be shown how far they have fallen. Far from the waters of the great southern river, far from the light of the sun and the moon, far from their homes. They are nothing, they are the dead and like the dead they must pass through the cold, uncaring, filthy earth.

The herd weeps, it quails, it screams but she will not leave them in the dark. She will lead them back to the light.

Her second spell strikes the Watcher's statue, again and again she hammers it with lightning until it splits in two and collapses to the ground killing a few unlucky priests as it does so.

As she lights the chamber with silver and gold rays her soldiers sweep in with long crooked blades and deadly crossbows. They massacre the priests but they are also careful to let a few get away.

She turns back to the herd, no, not a herd, not any longer, a pack, her pack, and raising the head of the high priest in the air she pitches the priest's head into the crowd. A few of the younger pups scurry away from it but one young hunter picks up the head and howls in triumph.

Slowly they begin to chant her name and the names of the Old Gods.

Her little stage show has won over the people but their leaders will require a different approach.

Her fellow chiefs simply watch her in horror.

"Nanshe, you have killed us all," Ninhursag speaks for the group, she slowly circles Nanshe.

"Perhaps if we kill her the Watcher's Creature will spare us," mutters old Nammu.

"Yes, we should hang her and cut her head from her shoulders," whispers solemn Irkalla.

They begin to encircle her but she does not move. Like it or not she needs their support for this to work, to Ninhursag she speaks, her voice burning with her conviction, "If this," she gestures about the dim cavern, "If this is life. Then what do we fear. It is no better than the dark halls of the dead. If you can not see that then strike me down and damn yourselves, your sons, your daughters, to this fate forever. If you want something better then join with me and help me destroy this man who believes himself a god."

The assembled lords seem shaken, perhaps, just perhaps they will follow her. A thin, bent ghôl ambles up to her, Enki, the greatest of them and the one she will have to impress. He shows only the slightest hint of concern, "Young Nanshe, you would lead us but how can we fight a war when our enemy knows our exact location at all times? How can our armies fight with us there to betray them? And if we stay, how will our armies fight without chiefs to lead them, without shamans to guide them? They will be lost, we will be lost, and we will die all the same."

The young chief smiles, great lips pulled back over perfect fangs, "I can hide us from the Creature and his hounds. In fact if you will all play along I can demonstrate my power in, oh, three minutes or so."

The chiefs nod, they will give her this one chance.

------------------------------------------

The hound bounds, rolls, leaps down the corridors of the compound.

One of the Master's toys has misbehaved, it must be killed, such slights will not be tolerated, and it must be done in front of the rest of the herd lest the servants decide to follow this traitor to their damnation.

It spins around the corner, steadies itself with a free talon and begins sprinting again. It builds speed as it charges and slams through the main doors of the temple. The servants scream and cower before it. Tiny little beasts unworthy of its attention. It twists and rolls across the room, claws, paws, talons and fins cycling beneath it as it spins forward and slithers up the to the corpse of the dead priest.

It sniffs the air, scans the room, it can feel each of the little leaders around it. Each clicks in the back of its mind but none are a match. None are the traitor. It circles the room slowly, did it flee? Could it have run so far, so fast? Such things should be impossible. None can escape the Master's hounds, none can escape it.

It weaves through the arches of the temple, it springs from enclave to enclave, it peeks behind stairs, it scatters the crowd time and again and it finds nothing.

Only the barest scent of the target but hardly enough to sniff it out.

If only it could-

---------------------------------------

She is only going to have one shot at this but she knows exactly how she wants to do this.

It took her hours to set up the contingencies, acquire the components, and prepare her apprentice but she is certain it will work.

After all it worked on her.

She spreads her arms and lets the wind take her.

----------------------------------------

Why didn't it sense the traitor?

It lies bleeding on the ground, dying. Is it dying? Yes. Yes it is dying and such things should not even be possible.

It racks its mind, trying to determine what went wrong.

One moment it was stalking along, searching for a scent and then- ah, and then the wind had picked up, a foul wind had pushed its way into the hound's nostrils.

At first it had thought that, that was the plan. To confound it, ruin it and allow the prey to escape. It had not thought for even a moment that it would be an attack.

Then the traitor hit it. Fire and iron slamming into its back. The first blow broke one of its spines and rendered a set of legs paralyzed. The second blow seared off a claw. The third splattered a tentacle and the blows simply kept coming.

It tried to fight back, tried to ward off this colossal iron warrior but to no avail.

It was beaten, from the very first moment, it was beaten.

All it feels as it slips into darkness is curiosity. How did its prey hide? Why did it have to die?

-----------------------------------------

She stands over the broken creature, coated in blue fluids and gore, "I can fight them, I can fight Him, and I can win! Join me! Join me and we can win!"

The assembled leaders push through the throng, "You can hide from them. You can beat them," they whisper to one another.

Enki steps forward, leaning on his great staff, "Well, young Nanshe perhaps you have what it takes to be our Warleader."

She grins, "Not your Warleader. That position has done our people more harm than good. The age of a single despot lording over his or her followers is over," she turns, making a slow circle, basking in the attention of the crowd, "Ghôls are meant to be free! I will not rule over you as some petty tyrant! I will not break you! I will not have you trade one master for another! I will lead you as the first amongst equals! I will lead you as your Empress!"

A great cheer comes up from the crowd and most of the chiefs and shamans nod to one another before saluting her.

Old Enki merely smirks and leans in to embrace her, "I have been to the human lands girl. I know all too well what an 'Empress' really is. A permanent Warleader."

She whispers back as her hand moves to her knife, "And what do you have to say to that."

He grabs her hand, looks her in the eyes and grins, "It is exactly what our people need to be great again."

He turns to the assembled lords, "All hail Nanshe! True servant of the Golden Ones! The first Empress of the Ghôls! Nanshe the Golden Empress!"

The call goes up as her people, unified, begin their rebellion.

Not a moment too soon either, in the distance she swears she can hear screaming.

-----------------------------------

No stars, no moon, only darkness. The sort of darkness that haunts the imagination of a man, the sort of darkness that conjures up all sorts of apparitions and horrors before the mind's eye. The darkness of childhood, a fear diminished by age and yet always ready to flare back to life.

At least that is how she sees it but she seems to be the only one. So she hides in her wagon and tends to her child, dear little thing, "We are going to go see daddy, darling."

She gurgles happily in response, somewhere between waking and sleep, secure in her mother's arms.

"Cass! More ale!" the caravan master bellows into the night.

She sighs, "Sweetie, I have to go for a second. I will be right back. I promise."

The child murmurs and gurgles as she wraps it in a fur and slips out of the wagon.

The Caravan Master is thin for a dwarf with a large hooked nose and sharp eyes. He is a hard man and expects all to pull their weight but she thinks fondly of him anyway.

Few would have taken her in as he has, fewer still would expect so little in return.

She tends to the men, cooks their meals, and mends the odd piece of clothing but they do not lay a hand on her. Last man to try ate the Master's sword for his troubles.

She skirts the great campfires that dot their encampment. A few meagre sparks of light against the seemingly eternal darkness of this night.

She shakes her head, this feels wrong. Camping out in the open like this. It invites disaster.

Not that they have a choice really.

The last outpost had been levelled and the one before it looked like a strong breeze could knock it over.

Not surprising then that the Master elected to push on.

Still, this darkness feels unnatural, like she is being watched.

She tries to shake the feeling, just get to the ale wagon, get the next barrel, get it to the Master, then get back to her baby.

She quickens her pace and feels just slightly stupid for doing so.

She reaches the wagon, she rolls down the next barrel and begins to roll it back toward the fires.

As the light builds around her, her fears dissipate, tricks of her mind and nothing more she sighs in relief.

The Master smiles at her and waves, "Good, Cass. We were just running out and I need another drink if I am going to believe half the shit Flea is sayin'."

Flea, perhaps the shortest dwarf she has ever seen snorts, "I am tellin' ya boss. I fought a Trow once! Would ha won too if the big ol' coward had not run off!"

The guards gathered round the great fire burst into a chorus of deep, rolling laughter.

The master joins them, "Sure boy. I believe ya'. Hell, we all believe ya!"

Flea hops to his feet and rakes the group with a furious glance, "It's true I tell ya! I am a master fighter! I am the stealthiest, the most dangerous, the most lethal an' the quickest motherfucker ya ever se-"

In an instant the laughter stops.

Flea gags and looks down at his chest. He looks down at the sliver of metal poking out from between the ribs. His eyes water, "I don't wanna die..."

The little dwarf pitches forward into the fire as a wave of howling laughter pours in from the dark.

The Master is on his feet, as are his men, "Back to the wagon Cass!"

She remains frozen to the spot, her eyes fixated on Flea's burning, twitching body.

"Cass! Back to the wagon!" he shouts again.

She just barely hears his words.

The wagon, her child, she remembers and she runs for it.

Behind her she hears the low thud of arrows, the screams of dying men and laughter from the dark.

Leaping figures dance along the edges of the firelight. Long arms carry them along at a quick pace as they close with the remaining guards.

So many of them, there are just so many of them. The thought races through her mind but she pushes it down, she just has to get to the wagon.

The wagon is close now, just a little farther and she will be there.

One of the beasts leaps over a cart and comes to a skidding stop in front of her.

It raises its curved, cruel blade over its head.

On instinct alone she jumps out of the way and slips under the wagon.

The creature is after her in a instant. It grabs her by the boot and pulls.

Frantic she reaches out for a handhold, a weapon, anything.

She grabs a stone and as it pulls her out with all its might she turns and swings.

They are both surprised by the outcome.

The stone comes up and the beast goes down.

She is on it before it hits the ground.

She swings that sharp, heavy stone, over and over again she drives it into the creature's face until their is little left but a puddle of pulp and bone shards.

She almost faints from the sight of it, but the fear, the sheer terror she feels and the thought of her daughter pushes her on.

She grabs the creature's blade and slips into her wagon.

With her child in one arm and the blade extended in the other she huddles in the dark.

She does not cry, she does not make a single sound, as slowly the sounds of battle disappear.

She can hear someone moving outside the wagon. She can feel the wagon moving as well.

Maybe they won? Maybe the Caravan Master and his guards won and now they are leaving? But why has no one come to find her then?

Slowly she edges toward the side of the wagon and carefully lifts the canvas.

She sees a long arm and a cruel, curved blade.

Silently she shifts back to the center of the wagon.

She contemplates jumping out of the wagon, running off into the desert with her child.

Can she outrun them? Probably not.

That creature that leapt into her path was far faster than she is.

Can she fight them? Definitely not.

It was only luck and that beast's carelessness that saw her to victory earlier. Against a pack of them, a group strong enough to kill the Master and his guards, she stands little chance.

So she waits, for what seems like an age.

----------------------------------------------

Noise builds in the distance.

The sound of many wagons, the sound of many feet and the sound of people. Bruig, Dwarven and something else, lower and darker that she can not place. Probably the sounds of these creatures.

She hears weeping, she hears praying, she hears screaming but she also hears laughter, she hears joy and roars of victory.

Once more she hazards a peek.

Before her is a city of canvas and rope, pitched before a temple of red stone.

From every direction come groups much like her own. War parties dragging back prisoners for some unknown but likely diabolical purpose.

As they near this 'city' her group falls into line, joining a grand parade down the largest avenue in the massive encampment.

Crowds gather outside the tents. Small beasts, likely children, jump and cheer with their elders watching on. The warriors wave and shake their weapons, some even begin to sing in their vile tongue and soon the entire city is filled with song almost drowning out the weeping of the prisoners.

The impossibility of escape hits her then and she barely chokes back a sob.

All this noise finally wakes her child and the little girl begins to cry, "Hush now darling. You have to be quiet, please be quiet."

Desperately she tries to silence the child but to no avail.

The sounds of this parade and the other prisoners go a long way towards masquerading her presence but it is only a matter of time till someone hears her daughter.

Tiny fingers slip under the canvas of her wagon and slowly raise it.

A hideous little face stares at her in awe.

"Oh please, please. Just go away. Don't say anything please," she begs quietly.

The little beast howls and dozens of fingers slip under the canvas.

Great fists seize upon the fabric.

She screams.

----------------------------------------

The High Temple of Šauška. One of the greatest of the Old Gods worshiped by the ghôls and a bloody one as well.

"How long do we have to do this for?" Nanshe has precious little patience for ritual when there are practical matters to attend to. They have wasted days looking for a sign that will never come.

"We must do this until the gods show us favour," Enki wags a finger at her, "You know our ways child."

The assembled priests crowd toward her throne and express their agreement vociferously.

"Oh very well," she waves dismissively, "Just get this over with."

A pair of priests exit the room while their fellow clear off the altar. Chunks of dwarf and man are swept away while three large ghôls with ebony brushes set to work cleaning the sacrificial instruments.

Having the favour of the gods may seem nice in theory but Nanshe is well aware that in practice they tend to do very little.

Some days she is certain they are not even there at all, though her spell, her Nightmare, would seemingly put the lie to that.

The priests return dragging a human woman by the hair, a great mop of auburn curls, in her arms is an infant child.

Gods, human children are even more ugly than the adults are.

The woman kicks and screams at the priests as they tear at her simple dress and attempt to take the child. The child screams as well and bites at the priests.

Nanshe shifts uncomfortably in her throne, "Should you not have done this before you brought her in?"

"Y- Yes Empress," one of the acolytes stutters an apology, "We have just been having such problems with this one. It hid in one of our supply wagons and even murdered a fine young warrior."

Nanshe cocks an eyebrow at that, "That," she points at the screaming woman, "That woman killed a ghôl warrior?"

One of the more senior priests nods, "Yes, it was found with his scimitar, seventy two notches it had!"

The rest of the shamans mutter amongst themselves.

"But don't worry Empress," he bows low, "We shall have it subdued momentarily."

Nanshe watches in silence. Something about that woman, the way she struggles for life is strangely compelling. Perhaps it is as simple as her hair colour, maybe it is something more fundamental, her spirit or something. Hell, maybe it is just the fact that Nanshe has not slept in four days, anyway she cuts it though there is something about this woman that piques the Ghôl Empress' curiosity.

The Golden Empress leans forward, her fine, strong jaw resting delicately on one great hand, "Bring her here."

Enki whispers in her ear, "Nanshe, the ritual."

She rolls her eyes and gives a most unladylike snort, for one moment merely a person and not an empress, quietly she offers her retort, "Then get someone else. I want to talk with this 'murderer', then maybe if she bores me, you and your priests can sacrifice her or something."

Enki mutters to himself but gives the order. For now the woman and her child will be spared.

--------------------------------------

They drag her to the throne, at first she fights but quickly she realizes that they are leading her away from the altar and stops.

They release her with a parting shove and shuffle off to find a new sacrifice.

Cautiously she eyes the group before her.

Four large beasts stand upon a raised platform. Their long and powerful limbs wrapped round in simple leather and iron armour. They treat her with a mixture of disdain and disgust.

Above them and behind them are an additional two figures. One wears but a simple red robe and leans upon a great old staff of twisted black wood. The second is dressed in finery, a long and surprisingly elegant black dress covers her inhuman form. A great crown of gold rests upon her brow, she leans forward, her head resting on one massive white hand as she scrutinizes Cassandra with her deep red eyes. She is the only being in the room that does not pour hatred upon her.

The creature on the throne gestures at her and gives a command in its dark tongue. One of its, guards perhaps, steps forward and tries to take her child.

Naturally she resists as the child continues to scream.

Then something happens that she never expected.

It speaks to her, in near perfect Dwarven it speaks to her, "Please, let me see your child."

She is not sure what she expected but it was not that and in her shock the guard snatches up her baby. Instantly she is upon him.

"Stop!" the creature on the throne demands and all three of them, the guard, Cassandra and her child instantly halt.

For a second she wonders if perhaps all the creatures can understand Dwarven but quickly the leader lapses back into her incomprehensible tongue. The guard adjusts his hold on the child, showing far greater care now as the figure on the throne turns her attention back to Cassandra, "Please let go of my soldier."

She does so as the guard brings the child up to the throne and carefully hands her over. Curiously the creature begins to coo and rock the child, for the first time since the attack her daughter giggles and gurgles happily.

It looks up at her, "Do you understand my words human?"

"Yes," her reply comes slowly but calmly though she remains terrified. All that hiding, all that fighting, maybe she just does not have it in her to cower anymore.

"Brave girl," the creature mutters, "Do you know who you are speaking to?"

"No," the answer comes quickly now, something about this creature is reassuring. It has a certain relaxed aura about it that puts Cassandra at ease.

"My name is Nanshe," the creature informs her with a slight smile.

Cass squints at the creature rocking her child. The name sound familiar but- she gasps, "The Butcher."

The creature grins, "That is what some call me yes, but I am also known as the Hand of Justice and now as the Golden Empress," she pauses for a moment and wags a single long finger before her daughter's mouth, "One person's monster is another's hero and things are rarely if ever that simple. But I have no wish to talk about myself, what I want to talk about is you."

"What do you want to know," Cass responds cautiously, doing her best to conceal the concern she feels for her daughter.

"Well for starters who are you?" the creature, a ghôl if what she says is true, gently bounces Cass' daughter in her lap, the kid merrily laughs.

"No one," Cass replies, "Absolutely no one of any importance."

The ghôl shakes her head, "Everyone is someone to someone. If you tell me that you are no one then no one will miss you when you are gone and I may as well turn you over to my priests."

At the mention of her priests another victim is pulled in screaming and driven to the altar.

Nanshe snaps her fingers, drawing Cass' gaze back to the throne, "I would not look at that if I were you. It will get rather messy and you have more important things to worry about. So I ask again, who are you?"

"Just, just the wife of a clerk in Myrgard," she drops her gaze, "We were going to visit him."

Nanshe nods sympathetically, "Poor time to be on the roads."

Cass smiles weakly, "Yes, that is what they told me."

Nanshe rocks the child slowly, "So, you are 'just the wife of a clerk', hmm, so then am I correct in assuming that you can read and write Dwarven?"

Cass nods.

Nanshe grins widely, "And can you speak and read Bruig, being a human I imagine you can?"

Again she nods.

"Good," she give a slight nod, "What is your name?"

"Cass, er, Cassandra. But everyone calls me Cass," the woman answers with a slight shrug, "Why do you want to know all this?"

The prisoner screams behind her, Nanshe stares over her shoulder, frowns and gestures for her priests to retrieve another prisoner.

Cass swallows slowly, "Why, why are you doing this?"

The ghôl merely smiles, "Well Cass, one final question. You were found in possession of a weapon belonging to an honoured brave. Did you kill him?"

Cass begins to answer, to deny it, but stops short as Nanshe wraps on great hand around the child's neck. For the moment she is merely supporting the back of her head but one twist and...

The ghôl speaks, "This is an important question. I want the truth, complete and absolute. Did you kill my brave?"

She hesitates, sweat beading on her forehead. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and answers, "Yes."

"How," Nanshe presses, her tone flat.

"A, a rock," she shakes slightly, not for herself but for her daughter, "He was pulling on my leg and I grabbed a rock and I swung, and I swung, and I swung until he was dead."

"What were you thinking of when you did it?" Nanshe slides to the edge of her throne as Cass opens her eyes.

"What?" the woman replies in surprise, "What was I thinking?"

With a thin smile the ghôl nods, "What were you thinking of when you murdered one of my braves?"

"I, my, my daughter," she clenches her fist, "I had to make it back, I had to do whatever I could to win."

Nanshe relaxes her grip on the child and leans back in her throne. She stares down at the child and once more begins rocking her slightly, "Then you have answered your own question. The ghôlish people are my children and I will do all that you see here and more to protect them. In truth I do not believe in these rituals but they do and so I will indulge them a little now so that I can demand of them service in the future. They will serve willingly and from their service will grow a grand empire in the south to rival even that of the Cath Bruig."

Such a declaration sounds insane but Cass has no response. It is all so much bigger than she is, it is all so unreal, she just wants to go home and she tells Nanshe so, "Please, please just let my daughter and I go."

"Can't do that I am afraid," the Empress shakes her head slowly, "Not after what you have seen."

Cass blanches, "You, you aren't going to kill us are you?"

The ghôl has to think about that for a moment, "No, no I suppose I won't. I won't kill you, but I can not free you either. What I will do is employ you."

Now that truly is insane, "Employ me?"

Nanshe grins as the idea takes hold, "Yes, I think I shall employ you. I need a maid and a clerk for myself. Perhaps you can even teach me Bruig, it would not sit well if the Empress of the South could not speak the common tongue of men now would it?"

"I, I suppose," Cass begins, bewildered.

"Excellent," Nanshe grins at the child, then at Cassandra. She rises from her throne and issues orders to her courtiers. They grumble but she ignores them, "Come with me and we will get you settled in your new quarters immediately."

As she follows her new employer from the room she tries to protest, "But, my husband in Myrgard."

Nanshe slips an arm around her and leads her towards the stairs, "Now, now Cass. Do not fret, we shall reunite you with your husband when I take Myrgard."

"Take Myrgard? But you would have to destroy the Dwarven Kingdom to do that!" the clerk replies in shock as her employer pushes her onward.

"Exactly my dear," Nanshe continues without breaking stride, "The Dwarven Kingdom rests in the very heart of ancient ghôl lands. My empire will not be complete until it is gone."

Cass' head spins, "But, but how? What will you do? How far will you go?"

Nanshe stops and with a grin and a wink replies, "Well, just watch me."
 
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Nevill

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To quote Baltika9,
:bravo:
Yay us.

The resurrection of Mazzarin, the release of the Faceless, and now this. The world is sooo fucked. :lol:

Sorry, Nanny, but I think you'll have to relocate your Empire elsewhere. Can't let you have all our money.

Still, a nice hook for Chapter 3 if we ever live through the current one.
 
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Azira

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Codex 2012
Yeah, Nanshe needs to be put in her place at some time. Then again, with the archmages so far on the loose, Derryth has her hands full.

Now we just need to free TWM from the Watcher, and set him to battling Nanshe, and the confusion is complete. :lol:
 

Nevill

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Just a final reminder that additional questions have been added to the update since it was first posted. If you want to weigh in on which spells the ladies should keep stored or whether or not to try and blow up the enemy commander you have sixteen hours to do so.

Current Tally:
Grimgravy:
1.D, 2.B, 3.A, 4. D: Greater? Energy Bolt / T: Heal, 5.B

4. Spell Rings
Derryth:
Greater Firebolt - 2 votes
Heal - 3 votes
Energy Bolt - 1 vote

Thaïs' Ring:
Greater Energy Bolt - 3 votes
Heal - 3 votes
If Grimgravy reverses his vote on the spells, we will get exactly what he is voting for - one ring with the Greater Energy Bolt, and one with Heal - instead of a tie. Who gets which ring is hardly important, as we never separate with Thais and can swap rings as we see fit.
 

Nevill

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Think of all the money we will make supplying the dwarven army with Melete's inventions to counter the sudden ghol threat that came out of nowhere. :M

Of course, some of the weaponry might find its way to the store of Brothers Dietfried for the right price...

Yeah, Nanshe needs to be put in her place at some time.
Disappearance of the Golden Empress with her subsequent retirement to the isle of Leix? It could happen. :D
 
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Nevill

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The funny thing is, once we finally get to it, ours would be the only caravans safe from ghols. I don't think Nanshe would want to attract our attention needlessly. It never ends well for anyone. Well, at least until she really musters enough forces to try and take the dwarven capital.

That might lead to increase in profits as more and more merchants would desire the protection of the Blackrock Securities. :|

A strange situation we've found ourselves in, indeed, caught between the two nations with a millenia long history of hatred and genocide.

But I guess this is the least of our worries right now.
 

Jester

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And i thought Nanshe is reasonable and smart. :roll:
Shame she will die trying to attack capital i doubt we will let her burn our friends and profits. Guess we cant save people with death wish. Oh well mby she will get memo when we deal with undeads that starting anything against us is quite retarded idea.
 

Fangshi

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I will close the vote when the tie on Thaïs' Ring is resolved. If it is resolved in the next four to six hours then I should be able to get an update out within sixteen hours. Otherwise it will be within thirty six hours hopefully.

For the other options the current winning choices are as follows:

1.E, 2.D, 3.A, 4. Derryth - Heal, 5.A
 

Fangshi

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Alright then, the vote is closed. The update should be out within sixteen hours, time permitting.

You will have your reinforcements search for Bari, Neel and the charioteer while remaining hidden but you will not link up with them.

You will tell them only enough for them to get by and you will instruct them to get the rest of the details from Neel and Bari.

You will not accept the demon's deal.

Derryth will store a heal spell while Thaïs will store a Greater Energy Bolt.

And finally you will start working on Operation Mole Hill.
 

Fangshi

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Chapter 46: The Battle of Blackrock V

Stale bread and salted pork. Some breakfast.

You are taking your meal in your tower as Thaïs briefs you on recent developments.

It seems that Lyssa has had mixed results with digging holes under the enemy camp. The pair of hares you originally set to work on the task began to behave strangely after a half hour of digging near and under the black tent. Not five minutes after that they wandered off. You have since ordered your rat guards and their marmot 'volunteers' to work in five to ten minute shifts. It will take more time but hopefully will prevent further loses though part of you remains concerned. If the hares have been compromised then the enemy might know you are trying to setup some sort of trap. They have not acted yet which may suggest that they are unaware of your plans or they may merely be waiting for something else before they spring whatever trap they have devised.

It is merely one more worry to add to a growing list.

Your reinforcements have been in regular contact, they have begun to explore the tunnels looking for a discrete way to reach Bari's last known location. They have found nothing yet but you remain hopeful. They have also managed to gain a better picture of the enemy force you are up against. Seems they brought a few scouts of their own along as well. They seemed concerned about their recent discovery of the presence of a Shade in the enemy camp. You managed to pass off your lack of complete honesty with them for a general concern over security. You are not entirely convinced that they have accepted your excuse but to their credit they have not abandoned you, at least for the time being.

Finally you have yet to receive word from Albrecht and that worries you most. What is he doing? Why has he not sent help?

Despite all these concerns though, you still have trouble properly focusing. Your mind wanders, perhaps as the result of a lack of proper sleep, perhaps due to the dim light filtering through your window. Outside the sky resembles a sheet of granite, great grey clouds slowly drift along obscuring the sun and lulling you to sleep. You know though that as soon as you close your eyes memories will assail you. You have not been keeping up with your sessions with Thaïs and without each other's help your imprinted memories are organizing themselves as best as they can. When this is over you are going to have to have a long session to sort through all the impressions and information that assults your dreaming mind, until then you will just have to make do with the little time you have.

You give your head a shake and shove a wad of meat into your mouth. It is just as horrible as you knew it would be but seven days into the siege you can not be too picky.

You wash the tough pork down with a swig from a half finished bottle of ale. It helps.

"Should you really be drinking this early," Thaïs asks with a slight smile. She sits across from you at your tiny table, sharing your meal after your meeting.

"Well," you reply with another slow swig, "Why don't you try some of that," you gesture at the pork on her plate, "And tell me."

She cuts off a sliver and pops it into her mouth. Instantly she makes a face and gestures for the bottle.

"So, not too early then?" you enquire as you slid the bottle from your left to right hand.

She nods rapidly and mercifully you slide the bottle to her. She takes a great gulp of the thin drink, "Yes, thank you."

She slides her plate away, "I don't think I can eat that."

You slip her a sympathetic smile as you nimbly push the plate back, "Needs must when the devil drives."

Her eyes light with the fire of memory, "Henry."

"One of his favourites, yes," you return her warmth.

She closes her eyes. The memory of the old man plays out for her, daintily she play with her food, "He would always say it before asking me-" she catches herself, "Us to do something horrible."

"Or horribly boring," you add with a wink as you slide another piece of pork into your mouth. You are greeted with the simply wondrous taste of salt and gristle.

She cracks an eyelid, you motion for the bottle and she slides it back.

"It is odd," she begins quietly, "Having two sets of memories. Real memories I mean, not illusions or tricks, in my mind."

You sound your agreement as you knock back the alcohol, as you lower the bottle she adds, "Not unpleasant though. I think I would have liked to actually meet Henry. Not in here," she taps the side of her head, "But out here," she gestures to the empty chair between you."

"He would have liked you I think," you slide the bottle back to her as she dutifully saws at the rock on her plate, "I mean he probably would have hit on you," you add with a serene laugh, "But he would have liked you."

She manages to choke down her mouthful with a healthy dose of drink and winks at you, "I know. Trust me, on both counts I know. Do you remember that time in Madrigal. The 'Bent Cock' I believe the place was called."

That sets off a wave of laughter from you both, shaking your head you respond, "I do not know how the old man wound up naked with the Dean of Admissions for the Royal Institute-"

"And her sister," Thaïs quickly reminds you.

You grin grows ever wider, "And her sister," you repeat, "But I swear that man could talk his way out of a murder."

Your friend's eyes sparkle, "If he had not, there would have been a murder."

"Nah," you shrug it off, "Those two old cuckolds could barely hold their blades up," she passes the bottle back to you, "Either set of blades if you believe their wives," you add with a wink as you take another mouthful and slam back the drink.

Your friend laughs melodically and soon enough you join her. Quickly a memory comes to you, "Oh, and how about the exploits of our dear 'family' in Scales?"

Thaïs groans slightly, well aware of the memory you are referring to, "So the girls liked to drink a little. That is hardly a crime is it?"

"No," you concede with a predatory grin, "But it sure led to a lot of crimes."

You laugh together, as you slide the near empty bottle back to her, "Oh what was it Petra used to say?"

At the mention of the 'grand, old dame' you both smile. After your, ah, her father died, Petra was arguably the most important person in Thaïs' life. She picked her up, dusted her off and helped her carry on.

Your friend nods as the scene plays out in your minds, "It was just a little drink with our supper."

She had asked you, no, Thaïs, to come over for a spot of dinner one crisp autumn evening. The last thing you remember you where both laughing merrily and drinking.

You shoot back, "We woke up two days later in the middle of the evening."

Thaïs grins, wagging her finger as she recalls Petra's words, "Yes and old Petra was there she said-"

You nod along enthusiastically, finishing your friend's thought, your thought, "She said, 'Never ask what you did-"

You finish in unison, "'It's better not to know!'"

Once more you burst into laughter together.

"I miss her sometimes," your friend mutters as the laughter dies.

You give her a look of deep sympathy, "I know. Just like I miss Henry."

"I know," she responds and empties the last of the bottle, "You were right that night. It does help to have someone to share this with."

She grows quiet, serious, "Derryth, I-"

Ah, you know that look. You know what she is going to say. It has something to do with the words 'like' or 'love' or something else suitably heavy and sufficiently charged.

"I know," you reassure her, "I just-"

Funny thing about your connection is that she knows your response even before you complete it. You have to wonder, does she know you that well or are you just a little predictable?

"I know," she sighs slightly, "Now is not a good time."

Hearing it out loud like that, it sounds worse than you intended. You feel the need to clarify your confusion, if that makes any sense.

It probably doesn't but damn it you have to try.

"Well, will it ever be a good time?" you are forced to admit, "We always seem to have someone trying to kill us. So, I was thinking, if we survive-"

"If we survive," she nods, repeating your words, "I will get my answer."

She does not phrase it as a question because it isn't one. She is right and you both know it.

If you survive this you will have to give her a proper answer about where exactly the two of you stand, now and into the future. Anything else would simply be cruel.

You feel the need to say something, anything, else but you lack the time.

The door to your apartment burst open as the girls tumble in.

"You have to stop doing this!" Biliku yells as she grasps her little sister by the hair.

"But it is important again!" Uttu elbows her sister, "They need to know important stuff right away!"

"They are busy! There is a," she searches for a word and grasps upon one with a look of triumph, "A protocol to follow."

"Yeah, what is it?" the younger girl demands as she squirms.

Biliku assumes a professional stance, tall and straight-backed, "You tell me, then I tell them and-"

"You just want to hog all the glory for yourself!" Uttu stomps on sister's foot and pushes away from her.

The older girl yelps in pain and surprise, "By the Goddess, I am going to kill you, you little brat!"

"Thaïs! Derryth! Help me!" Uttu races across the room and dives behind your table.

You hide a grin behind your hand.

"Girls, you should not fight," your friend begins, the twinkle in her eyes tell you she finds this quite amusing but she puts on a stern face regardless. The woman is a natural.

"Thaïs is right," you add with one hand still obstructing your smile, "Uttu, you apologize to your sister for hurting her," the kid nods and mouths 'sorry', "And Biliku there are better ways to go about this than wrestling her."

Your 'bodyguard' nod, "Sorry Derryth. Won't happen again."

"Good," your friend adds, "Now, what is all this business about 'important stuff'."

"There is something in the sky!" Uttu shouts and gestures out the window.

Slowly you get up and walk to the window. You lean outside and off in the distance you can just make out a pair of balloons lazily drifting your way from the north west.

"Hmm," you lean on the window frame, "Thaïs come and have a look at this."

She slips in next to you and leans out the window, "Are those dwarven?"

She turns to face you and you beam at her, "Know anyone else that can fly?"

"So Albrecht finally sent help," she replies with a wide grin.

"Looks that way," you respond, "Seems they swung northward as well to avoid running into the enemy that are likely set up along the southern roads. That would explain at least part of their delay in getting here."

"Well then, she takes you by the hand, "We had best get ready to receive guests."

--------------------------------------

You stand in your armour, with Thaïs on your right and Lyssa on your left. Hámundr with his dwarves and Myora with her mauls flank your little group, along the edge of the courtyard Ceannard and his archers stand ready as well. You do not know who or what is in those balloons but you will take no chances.

The balloons slowly lower themselves into the courtyard and a dozen dwarves pile out.

You do not recognize them but they all wear House Albrecht uniforms. They do not move like House Albrecht soldiers though, at least not any you have ever encountered. In fact if you had to guess you would say they are Pathfinders.

Their leader approaches you, a great helm pulled tightly over his face. Quickly he unfastens it and you smile at the face that greets you.

"Ladies," the dwarven champion gives you each a nod.

"It is good to see you again Sir Argus," Thaïs responds with her usual deep bow.

"How are you Argus," you slap him on the back, "Didn't want to miss out on all the fun?"

The dwarf grins, "I suppose you could put it that way but perhaps we should talk inside."

"Certainly, Myora will see to your men," the friend replies.

The maul begins to shout orders to your soldiers as the rest of your command group moves inside.

You will give Argus a proper briefing in one of the larger conference rooms, away from the rank and file.

-----------------------------------------

"Sounds like you have been busy," the King's Champion whistles as you conclude your tale.

"Well we find a way to keep ourselves occupied," you reply with a smirk.

"You have done this kingdom another great service," the dwarf nods respectfully, "At least four Shades dead by your estimation, over a dozen enemy mages slain, and their entire offensive blunted."

You nod but the smile slips from your face, "Still, the bulk of their army is intact and their remaining commanders seem reluctant to expose themselves."

"Well, I am sure we will think of something," Argus reassures you, "But that is no longer your problem."

"What do you mean?" Lyssa interrupts to asks.

Argus carefully studies her, "Well Miss Lyssa, what I mean is that you are all free to go. The King has authorized me to take command of the situation here and handle this threat. Mistress Derryth, Mistress Thaïs, you and the girls are to return to the palace as soon as possible."

"What! Why?" you and your friend shout in unison.

"In his Majesty's own words you are 'too valuable' to risk losing," the Champion replies with an apologetic glance, "He does not want to lose you or any of your team in a 'skirmish' I believe her called it."

"Skirmish!" you object in unison.

You begin, "This is not a Wyrd damned skirmish and I wrote as much to him!"

Thaïs is right behind you, "This is quite possibly the Watcher's primary army we are fighting. We can not simply run."

"Well you won't run," Argus winks, "You will fly," you both grumble in unison which just makes Argus grin wider, "Did you know it is quite odd when you two do that?" he waves off your annoyed stares, "Ah, sorry, maybe not the best time for a jokes. My pilots will see you safely back to Myrgard where you will help the king mobilize support. He is meeting a lot of opposition and many of the Lords would rather send the army south. We have not heard from Stoneheim in several days and many of the Lords are concerned about their trade interests there. Your words will count for a lot to convince them, at least the King seems to think so."

"What about our people here?" your friend asks.

Argus purses his lips, "Well, not counting the pilots and yourselves you could take eight."

Ceannard chimes in, "I will not leave my men. I am under contract to defend this fort and I will do so until the end."

Hámundr nods in agreement, "I would strongly recommend you ladies take the Champion's offer but I will remain as well. I must see to my men and I will find out the fate of my missing soldier."

"Well we can't simply abandon everyone," you conclude.

"What if you split up?" Myora suggests from the back of the room.

You wince slightly in unison but nod, "We certainly could do that-"

"But we would not be nearly as effective alone," your friend adds.

Lyssa coughs, "I, I could stay. I know the plan and I can run the animals."

"Are you sure?" you ask.

She seems slightly nervous and fidgets, playing with her necklace absentmindedly, "Yes, I mean I won't lie. I feel safer with support but I am willing to stay if necessary."

You and your friend look at one another the potential repercussions of such a decision clear to you both. If the three of you split up then you will be working on a strict schedule as the signals from your necklaces will begin to take their toll.

Argus sees your hesitation and offers a way out, "His Majesty did say that you should leave but who am I to argue with mages? You could probably turn me into a newt if you wanted to!" he lets out a low, barking laugh, "I sure as hell won't force you to get in the balloons and to be honest I would feel more confident with the 'Heroes of the Kingdom' around. Just take a moment and consider your options."


1. The Balloons, you have been offered a chance to leave. To escape and possibly to bring help. You choose to:

A) Take Argus' Offer: You will go to the King and see what you can do to help mobilize the army. You just hope the fort will stand without your presence.

B) You stay: The enemy has powerful mages at their disposal. If you leave you will be robbing the defenders of any magical support you could offer and you do not feel right about saving yourself at their expense.

C) You split up: Some of you will return to the king and some of you will stay to help guard the fort. This would allow you to pursue both tasks at once but your team is far more effective together than apart. (Please state which characters will go where should you choose this option. Derryth, Thaïs, Lyssa, Biliku and Uttu are all available for either group while the rest might take some convincing to leave.)

D) freeform


2. Operation Mole Hill: Your hares are gone. You have managed to force a handful of marmots to continue the work however with a mixture of generous gifts and subtle threats. The digging stage of the plan is almost complete and soon you will have to commit actual resources to its success. However, the plan may have been compromised. Do you wish to continue with it? (If you elect to take all three mages with you then you will have to trust the rats to execute the plan by themselves using more mundane means. If a mage remains at the fort then the plan will proceed as previously written.)

A) Yes, the payoff is worth the risk.

B) No, you will think of something else instead.


3. If you choose to stay (or send off only one balloon) then you will have the ability to moves small numbers of personnel between your Blackrock reinforcements in the field and the fort. Did you want to move anyone around?

A) No, keep everyone where they are.

B) Yes, (Please list names, quantities, and the like. Given how diverse the responses to this option can be, each will be counted separately.)

i. Berty and the Pathfinders move to your Stoneheim group. You will send them with explosives and instruct them to destroy the enemy crates should the opportunity present itself.
 
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Fangshi

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Messages
1,997
Party/Organizational Changes:

Party Changes:


Derryth:

1. Spell added to Gold Ring: Heal

2. Gained the following skill: Impressions II: Drunk Luck - No matter what mischief Thaïs gets up to she always seems to land on her feet. Having lived through more of her memories you think you have a better understanding of how she does it. (Gives you a second chance to perform actions that require dexterity when under pressure or intoxicated.)

Thaïs:

1. Spell added to Gold Ring: Greater Energy Bolt

2. Gained the following skill: Impressions II: Whiskey Tongue - Henry just had a way with people, particularly when he was inebriated or working on a deadline. Perhaps a little tension can be useful. From living through more of Derryth's memories of the man you think you might be able to put some of his strategies to good use. (Gives a bonus to charisma based actions taken under duress or while intoxicated.)

Organizational Changes:

Nothing of note really.

Rolls:

Not much that pertained to Derryth's group. Your animals made some rolls.

Your reinforcements made some rolls. Argus and his balloons made a few rolls.

Most of these had to do either with movement or with the specific actions you assigned them. Your reinforcements looked for your missing allies/personnel. They did about average.

The animals acted as your emissaries, spies and general agents. Again mostly average, at least on the rolls I can tell you about.

The Albrecht reinforcements also rolled for movement (though most of that was in the last update.)

Other than that though this update was all talking. You gained another pair of traits from your memories and that was about it.

There are a number of events happening elsewhere though and those required a great deal of rolls which I am sure you will find out about sooner or later.
 
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Nevill

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Shadorwun: Hong Kong
We can't leave our people without the only mage support they have. We stay and see this to the end.

Besides, we need to minimize damage to our company. And the disposal of the White Mage - if he shows up - depends on magic, so there is that.

That our animals have managed to dig the hole successfully in shifts suggests to me that the hares felt victim to some kind of passive effect, and were not actively targeted. It does not necessitate the enemy knowing our plan, it just means we need to be more careful with our forces.

Not sure about moving people around. Me, I'd like to keep everyone - including our Blackrock troops - in the fort. Our search operations might benefit from the presence of a few Pathfinders, though, and I am sure they would not mind retreiving one of their own.

1B 2A 3X

What is the maximum altitude of our airships? I assume they operate well outside the range of javelins. If we are ever attacked or need to mount an offensive, I want to load them up with explosives and send them off on a suicide mission to carpet bomb the enemy.
 
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