>>2737556
Add a new title. Magnus, the fallen.

>>2737562
Magnus, the Death Cucker

You aren't sure how long you've been lying here. Here in the snow, the cold refusing to touch your flesh, the icy wind bringing no chill to your blood. The jagged stone beneath the snow as soft beneath your head as any pillow

Are you here? Is this real?

Is this death?

Your vision is blurry, slowly coming into focus as you gaze upwards, your breathe not even steaming in the seemingly frigid air. Far, far above, the sky is speckled by millions of pinpricks of light, waving, undulating bands of green and blue, twisting like serpents in the night sky. The darkness of the new moon, if this realm even has a moon, allows the starlight and the twisting corona to cast stark shadows across the bleak landscape.

Sitting up is a slow affair, your body simultaneously light and heavier than a mountain. Bracing your hand behind you, you never yourself up, a twinge of phantom pain promoting you to grunt, your voice echoing unnaturally. Your fingers show no reason for alarm, the wounds you remember refusing to show themselves.

It seems, for now at least, that you are whole.

>Look around

>Stand

>Lie back in the snow.

>Call out (what say)

>Other

>>2737577
Stand.

>>2737579
>Look around

>>2737577
>>Stand

>>2737577
Welcome back btw QM, I've been missing this quest.

>>2737577
>>Look around

>>2737577
>Stand

>>2737619
Good to be back anon! Check out dungeon rebirth for more of my low quality bullshittery. I run these two in turn with each other

>>2737577
>Call out (what say)

"Oi, who is alive to bring me something to eat"

>>2737657
"Oi, whoever is alive, bring me something to fuck!"

>>2737577
>>Stand
UNBROKEN

>>2737655
You're quality is good though I wasn't interested in that other quest.

>>2737577
>>Stand
Long time no see you mean old one eyed bastard.

>Stand

Icy wind whips past your body as you force yourself to your feet. Snow crunches beneath your feet, forcing between your toes, the wind scoured icy surface crackling like glass under your boots.

Boots?

Looking down, your feet are encased in a familiar looking pair of ironbound boots, the caps dotted in raised dull points of iron. In the blink of an eye, you go from nude as the day you were born to clad in your familiar leathers and mail, plate and scrap armor. Snow and ice crunch under your feet as you stride forward through this wasteland of frozen nothing. Far above, the stars watch on, as cold and callous as any assassin, staring down at this bleached and wind scoured hell.

Through the endless plain of white, spires of black stone emerge like the spines of some great ocean beast. Their edges polished smooth as glass by the endless winds, the razored monoliths sing in the storm as the gale glances off their sides, honing the obsidian edges ever further.

In the distance a figure stands, reduced by distance to miniscule size. Like a miniature wrought from ebony, its stark contrast to the snows surrounding it the only way your eyes can make it out.

To the east, or at least what you assume is the east, a dull ruddy red glow emerges over the spires of obsidian. Like freshly forged iron cooling in air, the glow waxes and wanes like a heartbeat, pulsing against the night sky.

To your west, assuming again, an ancient and weathered tree emerges from a cleft in the black stone. Its branches and trunk polished to a shining finish, the ancient colossus stands defiant against the endless storm.

>Advance towards the Figure

>Advance towards the burning glow

>Advance towards the ancient Oak

>remain in place. You move for no one.

>>2737744
>>Advance towards the ancient Oak

>>2737708
AYYYYY Cali! Haven't seen you since Gunslinger!

>>2737744
To the oak.

>>2737744
>>Advance towards the Figure

>>2737749
Yea, it's been a minute. Glad you're still around and kickin!

>>2737744
>>Advance towards the ancient Oak

File: Spoiler Image (45 KB, 500x667)

45 KB JPG

>>2737744
>The ancient Oak
IT'S TIME FOR FUN
I kinda hope we can find something like this

>>2737800
It doesnt represent the last of the Dryads does it?

>>2737805
The Oak or the Hyborean sword?

>>2737807
I meant the oak in general.

>>2737805
I thought it was pretty obvious

>>2737744
To the figure

>>2737816
What do the other two represent then?

>>2737812
I kinda thought it symbolized the unbending "I stand here and no man shall move me" line
>>2737819
The figure might be Vall or a spirit and I think the Glow is actually a symbolized form of the Riddle Of Steel

>>2737819
There are two significant spirits with a claim to Magnus's soul (three if you want to get really technical). The figure is... Well the figure is the reason Magnus is here.

>>2737819
I'm unsure about the other two, either could be self of Vall, but a tree well y'know nature and all

>>2737828
Do we only get to see one of them

>>2737828
Vall, the Dryad and the Duergir/Spirits?

>>2737837
You *HAVE* to see the dark figure to leave this dream realm. You can see one of the other choices.

>>2737841
The three main spirits/deity you are linked to are-
Vall the Conqueror, The Destroyer, Hand of Ruin and Doom of Heaven

Cameera, Lady of the Twilight Woods, Last Queen of the Wild, Mistress of the Forest.

Tuarevath, The Devouring Shadow, consumer of the Damned and Herald of the Abyss

So Magnus has lots of runes carved onto his body. They might be the devourer guy, Vaal, some dead bro or a far away giant.

>>2737864
Oh this makes sense.

>>2737864
>Cameera, Lady of the Twilight Woods, Last Queen of the Wild, Mistress of the Forest.
Oh one of the premier waifus, have we put that sapling of hers somewhere yet? She was fun.

>>2737864
I kinda don't want to work for the Devourer but I really don't mind achieving a sort of symbiosis between the Dryad and Vall

How about we become our own deity

>>2737871
Cameera and Vaal? Isn't that already happening sort of with Magnus being the proxy? Vaal gives people cool shit for being cool, and Magnus already got that Animal Friend Perk.

>>2737871
This anon is a straight shooter. I'll back ya.

>>2737875
Of what though? Each God has a theme. If Magnus had one, what do you think it should be?

>>2737877
I suppose I am just trying to get a Hyborean sword but I'm cool with having an animal friend
>>2737882
Murder, Loot, Raising, and Murder

>>2737882
Gods mostly suck in these parts though. Spirits seem to be okayish. Like the Dryad lady took a toll sure, but that's the wild for you. It hurts, but you come out better, if you aren't a bitch.

>>2737881
I don't mind working with nature spirits/old gods kinda deal but working for idk

>>2737882
Honestly, I'd rather just be a humble mortal conquerer, late game stuff usually kills my interest. Vall is murderhobo, Tree is hippy, and Devourer is edgy.

Perhaps bringing about an old gods pantheon would be cool, but actually ascending to godhood would kill my interest desu

>>2737882
So basically Vall became the godkiller and waged war against the gods. All the gods are weak as fuck now, but some are making a push like the moon bitch. Gods power is basically gained through worship and faith.
I see Magnus as one signifying either the primal strength of nature, or war.

>>2737903
Or rather thats my understanding. Cursed clarify my mistakes.

>>2737899
Who said anything about working for anyone? We do favors and we get shit. That's it. in Dryad's case we also get crazy struggle snuggle too. Maybe. Also, in this world? I doubt a less tamed wild means hippy, more like sabertooths and elementals running around. Which sounds fun.

>>2737912
Can you imagine? Magnus beating an Elemental for burning or soggying a fur carpet ad it cowers?

>>2737920
Yes. Clearly it needs to get better at it's job and rise to burning crops or fucking up dams. How the fuck are we supposed to overcome adversity if elementals underperform like that?

>The oak

The ancient and immense trunk of the oak catches your eye. Its branches stripped of all leaves millennia ago, its bark scoured to nothingness by centuries of driving wind. Yet still it stands. The colossus may be dormant, it may more likely be dead but still it stands.

Defiant in the face of eternity.

You like that.

Snow, shining black stone and frozen, centuries old bone crunch beneath your boots as you stride through the storm, your hair whipping across your face, the cold as intangible as the breathe of a ghost. Step by step, foot by foot, mile by mile you stride through the blizzard towards the ancient hulk.

With each step closer you take, more details become apparent, more irregularities reveal themselves in the immense tree. The cracks and gouges in its trunk, some caused by the damage of storms, some by the claws of some monstrous beast. The symbols and runes carved into its monolithic girth, sigils and clan markings, names and prayers. Broken weapons and skulls, rent armor and wrapped forms litter the base of the tree, caked in snow and a thick red ice that could only be bloodsoaked snow.

You gaze upwards into the bone white branches of the ancient giant and nearly start as a familiar voice whispers into your mind, feminine and vaguely worried, if exhausted.

>"You should not be here.... Son of Man... This is no place for the forest... This is no place for life.... Leave this place before it claims you"

>What say?

>>2737929
Thank you, I have yet to plant that seed of yours, but I will. Any advice for me here?

>>2737929
>centuries old bone crunch beneath your boots as you stride through the storm
>Broken weapons and skulls, rent armor and wrapped forms litter the base of the tree
Can we pick some of these and keep it? I want ghost loot.

>What say?
Don't worry love, just passing though. I plant that soon enough once I'm out. You mind if I bring that little thing to a shaman to get it looked at? He might have some ideas on how to help.

>>2737929
>I have no plans of being claimed here or now.

>>2737929
Specifically I want to grab a skull, a weapon with the biggest handle+guard and some armor. I don't even care if we don't get to bring these back to the waking world. I just want it.

>>2737929
>I have been here once before, and I will be here again, I wanted to look at what lay before me

>>2737962
Im actually good with this

>>2737966
I was thinking we could also ask the Mighty Oak what is best in life

>>2737958
Those broken pieces of armor, weapons and bones are the Wild's trophies. The best loot is pried from an enemy's hands or his coffers.

>>2737968
Cameera right? Is this her? I wonder what's up with the armor, weapons and skeletons.

>>2737969
Mmmm you have a good point

>>2737973
It's what the Wild has claimed as belonging to it, also the Dryad is not what is best in life

>>2737962

This.

>>2738005
I mean, as far as shieldmaidens go. A bitchin Dryad that digs us is pretty up there.

You clear your throat, every noise you make echoing despite the howling wind, echoing as if you stand at the bottom of a mineshaft.
"I have been here once before. I will be here again. I wished to see what lay before me"

The wind would snatch away your words where they not echoing with the force of a blacksmiths hammer on steel. The oak shivers at your voice, stripped branches scraping against each other with the clatter of dried bone
>"yes... You have been here before Magnus, Heir of Ruin... When your skull was cloven and your body broken... When your friends died and the only family you knew died in blood and fire.... This... Place... You are no stranger to it... But the Devourer has stayed his appetite..."

You think back to the shadowy being Duergir summoned, the consumer of souls. The immense hunger that radiated from the presence had infected you, giving you the thirst for life. A curse you had chosen willingly.
"What would keep the Devourer from me? Does he not hunger? Am I not the meal he desires?"

Again, that tired, sad laughter echoes in your mind, drops of red sap seeping from the cracks in the oak like blood from a wound.
"Not even he would claim you before your time. The Destroyers wrath would unmake him... Even if he wished to.... The void prevents him... It will not allow him the pleasure... Like a midnight pool hiding its depths... Here? Here you cannot be seen by death.... Even if you wish it"

>Ask about the figure

>Ask about the red glow

>Ask about the bodies, weapons and armor

>Ask where you are

>Other (write in)

>>2738030
>>Ask about the red glow

>>2738027
No no no no, what is best in life Is To Crush Your Enemies, See Them Driven Before You, And To Hear The Lamentation Of Their Women

>>2738030
>Bodies and Glow

>>2738030
>Other (write in)
Why not all four?

>>2738040
What about their men?

>>2738045
Because that's a lot of writing m8

>>2738040
That is true, but you gotta enjoy other things. Like having the best loot and women. Sure kicking ass and taking names is great, but having excellent bedwarmers is up there. You gotta admit that.

>>2738030
>>Ask about the bodies, weapons and armor

>>2738062
>Ask about the bodies, weapons and armor

>Ask about the bodies, weapons and armor

The ruined and ancient weapons, forged for hands even larger than your own, litter the base of the trunk like fallen leaves. Many have been driven into the ground as deep as their wielders were able, others leaned against the smooth trunk like the braces for some iron shelter. Their edges are thick, durable and jagged, rife with spikes and aberrations, hooks and barbs meant to cause as much damage to flesh as possible.

The armor scraps and helps, crushed breastplates and cracked shields sit beneath a later of snow and ice, jagged rents and clean slashes evident in the ancient metal. Ancient leather, weathered to the point of disintegration has long given up the effort of holding the iron together.

Skulls and cloth wrapped bodies sit in nooks and arches in the roots, some normally sized, some belonging to giants, nearly four times the size of a mans. But the vast majority are angular, thick browed and solid, a pair of thick curved horns jutting from their brow and temples. Even the Wildfolk paid tribute here it seems.
"Even this relic has gotten attention from those who wander these wastes Cameera. Is this the great beacon of your power in this frozen hell?

The tree shivers, each branch scraping against another with harsh, sharp clacks, several droplets of sap oozing down the trunk without regard for the cold. After a long silence, the voice in your mind returns, soft and weary, tinged with sadness
>This was not always the waste you see now Son of Man.... Once it was green and warm... My fathers lesser children rose from the forests and fought for his glory.... I fought for his glory... When he fell at the hands of the Destroyer.... Winter reclaimed this place... They think still that this last scrap of his presence in this wasteland will allow him to hear their prayers. To bring back the sun and the forests... They bring offerings of fallen warriors, of weapons, the armor of fallen foes.... The ice has made them cold and hard... They wouldn't know warmth if it was shown to them... They would likely hate it..."

Your breathe catches in your throat as you turn, taking in the immensity of the wastes. For as far as you can see, there is only darkness, sharp stone and snow. You aren't sure who or what could live up here but you doubt they are the reasonable sort.
"They seek to bring your father back? They hope that with enough sacrifice that the summers willr return?"

Like sunlight on drifting dust, you can make out the faintest hint of Cameera in the shadows of a arching root, tracing a finger along a particularly large horned skull, the bone chipped and scratched by years of war.
>"They are simple children.... All they know is hardship and pain.... You can't blame them. Perhaps one day I can bring life to this waste... When you fulfill your bargain perhaps...."

>What say before Cameera fades back into the spirit realm to rest

>>2738170
Magnus was a farm boy once. You gotta give before you can get. Not take, take and take some more.

>>2738170
So if these weapons and armor aren't doing much to ressurect their father, can we take some for the road?

>>2738170
See you on the otherside

>>2738196
You can try. You are not here in physicality though

>Any other votes?

>>2738202
That's fine.

>>2738185
I'm going with just leaving

>>2738185

This.

You walk forward slowly, your gaze drifting toward the hilt of a greatsword stuck point down into a bone white root. Its blade is easily five feet long, thick and jagged, spikes and aberrations adorning its length. You reach out, your gauntleted fingers open to wrap around the simply tooled iron hilt. To your shock, your fingers pass through the metal like smoke against cloth. You scowl, clenching your fist and turning to where you know Cameera watches you near-invisibly. Gesturing towards the piles of trophies and fallen corpses you shake your head slightly
"I was born to farmers. You have to give to get. If you take and take and take, the land dies little by little. Before long, you have nothing but dust and ash... Or in this case, snow"

Something very close to a soft laugh echoes in your mind as the roots themselves, somehow still living, shift and twitch in the permafrost.
>"They know nothing of giving.... Taking is all they know now... Taking lives, wealth, women, against the teachings of the ancients.... Little more than beasts now... But giving? You know this well... What was it you said to me Magnus? 'Even the wildest forest can be made to bear fruit'... How very right you are..."

With that, Cameera fades once more, the sparkling dust that comprises her lessened form drifting into the classroom surface of the ancient tree. You can feel the warmth of her eyes upon you as you turn towards the vast expanse of wind blasted snow.

The fires to the east have faded, losing their pulsing glow but still burning against the spires of obsidian. Like fresh forged iron, like the molten ore in a cast, it glows with dull heat. Whatever molten rock still bubbles up in that direction, it holds no calling for you now.

>Investigate the figure, it seems much closer

>lean against the trunk. It will come to you.

>attempt to wake up

>Other

>>2738282

>lean against the trunk. It will come to you

We've already gotten this far, no need not go all in.

>>2738282
>Other
>Investigate the figure, it seems much closer

>OP battery is at 1%
>Slep time
>Will resume in the morning
>Stay awesome boyo's

>>2738282
>>Other
Lets try to book it to the red glow, its time to have a chat with our patron.

>>2738282
>>Investigate the figure, it seems much closer

>>2738282
>Investigate the figure, it seems much closer

>>2738471
Agreed

>>2738282
Investigate the figure, go to meet him.

>>2738282
Investigate the figure, it seems much closer
No need to be rude

>>2738471
On top of that, sitting around waiting by the tree might not be a good thing if we piss off someone and they take it out on it.

>The dark figure

Your gaze settles on the midnight clad figure slowly marching through the snow. Like a drop of blood on a field of white, it stands out in stark contrast to the surrounding emptiness. You roll your shoulders, almost missing the pops and cracks of bone and tendon as you set off to meet the strange figure. Two pairs of armored boots crunch through the snow, grinding against jagged obsidian and ancient bone.

With every step closer you can make out more details of your counterpart. Armor as black as the void and solid as a mountain, held with straps of leather and chain, marred by scratches and gouges, nicks and dents but still strong. A helm with only the barest slit for vision, angling forward like an axe head. Thick, rounded pauldrons capped with a thick ivory spike jut from his shoulders like the horns of a beast. Jagged, mismatched armor coats the shades arms, one hand encased in overlapping strips of riveted leather and iron, the fingers resembling crooked armored claws more than human digits. A dark fur cloak, coarse and threaded with white hairs hangs from his shoulders, blowing sideways in the wind. From his belt hangs a pair of long handled axes, their heads notched from a thousand battles. Across his back, in a leather and iron sheath is a inwardly curving greatsword, its hilt simple black iron wrapped in sweat stained leather.

The wraith stops several paces before you, working the warped claws of his off hand, iron and bone cracking and scraping as the figure watches you, eyes glowing with a pale light in the darkness of the full helm. With a huff and a exasperated sigh, steam billowing from within the helm, the figure nods to you slightly, teeth audibly clicking together behind the face plate.

>What say?

>>2739551
>We both know I need to go back.

>>2739551
Well shit, aren't we a pair of fuck ugly bastards. Offer the trooper a hand shake.
Let's see- you can't be the old master of the storm blade, you don't feel like the devourer, you can't be death.....are you like my reflection? No, maybe one of the dead that whispers during battle.

>>2739551
"That feel when no big titty goth gf."

>>2739551
Return the nod
"I'm sure you will get your chance sometime soon. But you know for now I still have things to do"

>>2739551
>Gotta admit, I was hoping for a woman
>Nos back first

>>2739551
Nod back offer a sparing match

You resist the urge to smirk and return the nod, crossing your arms across your chest, wind whipped hair blowing across your face as you level your gaze on the black armoured figure.

"We both know i need to go back"
Your voice suddenly feels a very small and feeble thing against the looming menace of the stranger. Eyes as cold and flat as a corpses eye you, narrowing behind hidden lids for a long moment before again, the stranger nods. Steam seeps from within the helm like the breathe of a dragon as the angular helm dips down for the briefest moment.

For the faintest moment, you can *feel* a presence looking against you, phantom fingers dragging along your neck, a woman's cruel and mocking laughter. A thousand voices and one melded into one that whispers malevolence into your very soul. The figures eyes cut to a point over your shoulder and a surge of pure *nothingness* dispels the presence like snow in a forge.

"Im sure you'll get your chance with me soon enough but for now, I still have work to do"
You keep your voice level and polite yet not servile, focusing on remaining impassive as the armored figure starts, nodding to himself and taking several steps forward. You fight the urge to shy back as the armored stranger leans in close, standing head and shoulders shorter than you but looming with power like a giant. A wet sniffling sounds from inside the brutal helm and you realise the stranger is smelling you. With a snort and a grunt, he turns, shaking his head as if to clear the scent from his nostrils. Turning to face you, the mangled hand points square at your chest. Like boulders being ripped from the depths of a pool of mud, like arrows being ripped from a corpse, wet, thick words are ripped from the creatures throat.
"Nnnooootttt youuuurrr tiiiime Soooonnnnn offf.... Vaaaaalllll... Nnnooootttttt yyyyeeetttttt.... Sooooonnnn.... Weee wiiiiilll meeeeeetttt"

That armored claw curls into a fist, bone and tendon cracking as they are forced into a shape more similar to that of a human hand.
"Oooonnnneeee muuuuussstttt diiiieeeee....."

>What say?

>>2739652
Say nothing and head butt him.

>>2739652
Oh yeah, working on that moon cunt. It's gonna take a while to figure out how to kill a spirit.

>>2739658
>head butt super spirit
you wot m8? why?

>>2739658
Like seriously this motherfucker comes off as a legit scary as cunt and you want to fight him? That's like trying to fight Vaal.

>>2739652
>That armored claw curls into a fist, bone and tendon cracking as they are forced into a shape more similar to that of a human hand.
>"Oooonnnneeee muuuuussstttt diiiieeeee....."
What do you mean?

>>2739670
I think it means everyone dies.

>>2739673
>"Oooonnnneeee muuuuussstttt diiiieeeee....."
But it said one must die, not everyone must die. The fuck kind of wacko omission shit is this guy trying to pull on us?

>>2739676
If he's saying we have to sacrafice someone to him tell him to fuck himself. We've sent many his way and we will send many more.

>>2739681
Are you thinking he's the devourer? Because I think this guy is someone else. The last time we meet the devourer he was a lot more vocal.

>>2739686
This isn't Vall though is it?

>>2739689
This isn't Vall or any other spirit. This person is entirely mortal even if he does have a shit ton of essence and power

>>2739691
>We can kill this weird death thing

>>2739670
>>2739691

Ask him who he is and what he wants then.

>>2739689
Oh fuck no this ain't Vaal. Vaal would come at us riding a dragon riding an even larger dragon. Go big or go home.

>>2739691
Thanks for the explanation.

>>2739652
I think I can find somebody

>>2739702
>>2739699
Maybe its the personification of all we've killed? What is waiting for us?

>>2739708
Not likely. Cursed just said this was another mortal guy, not an amalgamation of all the people Magnus has killed in his life.

>Have we decided what to ask the Stranger yet?

>>2739721
So a new dude I guess. Strange. He said we will meet soon, maybe he meant that one of us would die?

>>2739730
My vote is to ask him who is and what he wants.

>>2739730
>we'll kill more moonies
>what did you mean by that
>who are you and what do you want
why not all of these?

>>2739733
Between Magnus and the stranger, most likely. There can only be one.

The hissing, rasping gurgle of the strangers voice digs into your ears like barbed hooks as that mangled claw withdraws. Like the hammer blow on the anvil of a god, that growling declaration hangs in the air, unperturbed by the screaming winds. One must die. One must die. Who must die?

You step forward, raising your voice above the rising storm.
"What do you mean? Who must die? Who ARE you?!"

You halt in your tracks as those flat dead eyes focus on you. There is no life in them, no anger, no emotion. Just pure, cold malice. Whatever is behind that helm doesn't hate you, you realize. It hates *EVERYTHING*. But that malevolent mind seems to disregard violence for once and instead turns to face you fully. The whole hand, armored in a articulated black gauntlet that could be been ripped from a nobles corpse and extends a single finger, touching it to his own breastplate before pointing at you.
"Deeeeaaaaattttthhh.... Thhhheeeerrreeee caaaan beeee ooonnnlllyyy oooonnnneeee..... Soooonnnnn offfff Vaaaalllll..."
That armored finger touches to his own chest once more
"Orrrrr Thhheeee Deeeffiiiillllleerrrr"

The Defiler? You've never heard of any warrior going by that name. You nearly start as the figure raises a armored hand to its helm, gripping the metal and pulling it free slowly, iron scraping on iron as the strangers face is revealed.

It takes a lot for you to remain impassive as the ghastly ruin of the strangers face is revealed. Flesh melted like candlewax before some horrific conflagration, ears long since cut or burned away. Eyes the color of murky ice, bloodshot and cloudy. Teeth filed to points like some predatory beast, bared not in a grimace but simply because the lips were long since burned away. The skin that remains is the color of half burned charcoal and dark ash, wispy and coarse white hair sprouting in tangled lengths from the rear of that gruesome deaths head. Like a corpse risen to walk the earth, the stranger regards you face to face for a moment before nodding and replacing the helm slowly, joints popping against the endless march of time.

You swallow back a surge of revulsion and nod in return, clenching your fists against a sudden chill.
"Well... 'Defiler' what do you want with me? Why pull me here?"

Something very similar to a wet laugh emerges from within the helm as the figure turns away from you, gesturing towards the north horizon. A dull orange glow has slowly infected the sky like a misguided sunrise but as the source suddenly crests the edge of a rolling hill of ice and stone, its origin is revealed.

Torches.

Thousands upon thousands of torches.

>Cont

>>2739827
Each one held in the hands of a armed and armored man, similarly garbed woman or child, a towering WildFolk or a giant. Ogres, war beasts, mammoths and other, stranger things stand amongst the horde, heedless of the howling blizzard. Its an army beyond count, a host without number. You turn, your eyes wide as you take in the immensity of the horizon spanning legion and gasp as a armored claw somehow grips your chest, inexorably lifting you several inches as the Stranger snarls out in their thick, rasping growl.
"I waaaaaaant??? I waaaaaannnttt? Chiiiiilllldddd...... I waaaannntt annnnn ennndddd....I willll haaaaavvvveee itttttttt"

Before you can do more but gasp in inexplicable agony as talons of pure *cold* punch into your incorporeal chest, your vision goes dark. The darkness is soft, absolute and complete. You aren't sure how long you float in this endless limbo but after a time, you become aware again. Faint smells, lingering bitter and spicy herbs on your tongue, an ache in your ribs and back, your hand and knee. Your head twinges as if a angry hedgehog has taken residence inside it and you flinch, prompting a surprised and slightly delighted squeal which is quickly hushed.
"He's waking up! He's waking up! Go get Duergir! Go Keera! Go! Get Shalla too! She just left!"

>Wake up. You have slept long enough

>You're so very tired

>Groan. Ow, noise, go away

>other

>>2739828
Wake up, you've slept enough
>>2739827
Looks like the Defiler has a champion too.

>>2739828
>Get the fuck up bitch

>>2739828
Groan. Ow, noise, go away

>>2739828
>>Groan. Ow, noise, go away
"hnggg"

>>2739827
So, there are two "Son's of Vaal?"

>>2739828
Oh I get it. This guy wants a glorious death.

>Wake up. You have slept long enough

>>2739841
>a
He's the son of the Defiler. The Defiler's champion is challenging Val's

>Ow. Noise. Pls no

Every motion, every sound, every flickering bit of light drives another red hot nail into the spiraling headache currently drilling into the depths of your brain. Your mouth feels thick and slimy, your tongue glued to the roof of your mouth, your throat swollen and dry. You try to shift yourself and nearly howl with agony as your various wounds flare up, screaming complaints at you from a dozen dozen different spots. From the heaviness and slight roughness of your limbs, head and torso you can tell that layers of coarse cloth bandages cover you nearly from head to toe. You take a deep breathe, doing your best to plead for silence as the feminine babble around you grows ever louder.

"Hhnnnggg"
A straining, rough groan is all that you can force from your battered lips. However it gets the desired response and the two familiar voices hush, leaning close, light and cool fingers tracing across your brow, your jaw, your chest, your arms.

"Magnus? Are you... Are you okay?"
Mylea's soft voice is tinged with worry as she lays her palm against your chest, feeling your heartbeat as if searching for reassurance.

Your face is covered with warm, clean tingles of long hair that smells of sunshine and clean air, arms wrapping around your neck. A small laugh comes from the side nearest the faint daylight and the warmth is slowly pulled away
"Easy Mylea you'll smother him! He's still waking up!"
Ysoldes melodic tones sing into Your ears as she pulls the fussing form of Mylea off of you with the inexorable grip of someone who was ready for this outcome.

>Force yourself up

>Wait for Duergir

>Sleep time

>Other

>>2739988
>>Wait for Duergir

>>2739988

>Wait for Duergir

>>2739988
>>Force yourself up
Undying champion!

>>2739988
>Force yourself up

>>2739988

> Wait for Duergir

>>2739988
>Force yourself up

>>2739988
Force yourself up

>>2739988
> Force yourself "up". Its time to slaughter some livestock if there is any available. Our body may be tired, but the blessing and curse will restore us. Maybe not the hand. fuck. the hand. But maybe? We have to try. Spend the day in the pits roughing up the young warriors after that. try not to kill too many.

On top of that we can't seem too weak.

>>2739988
>>Force yourself up

>Force yourself up
>The body is weakened but the spirit is strong
>Roll me 1d100. Bo3. DC60

Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>2740235

Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>2740235
Can't stop the rock

Rolled 91 (1d100)

>>2740235
claerly this involves strength

>>2740235
We need to bite the head off a chicken to heal yo, the work our way up to larger prey.

>91>DC60
>Magnus Rises!

You aren't sure how long its been since the battle but you can be sure that you have slept long enough. With a grunt of effort, your ribs twinging in pain as you do, you bring your elbows back, pushing yourself upward. Immediately your body explodes with pain as joints and muscle pop and complain, letting you know exactly how hurt you were. Ysolde and Mylea gasp in shock trying to push you back down but even as weak as you are its like trying to hold back a landslide and you rise inch by inch despite their pleas.

"Magnuuuussss!! Duergir said you need rest! You-hrrggghh- Have. To. Lay. Down!!"
Mylea huffs, hanging from your neck and attempting to drag you back down. As tempting a pillow her smoke chest may be, you can't give in.

Ysolde pushes against your shoulder, aiding Mylea in her efforts with all her might, her high cheeks red with effort as she sets her full lips in a fierce snarl of exertion. She flips her long dark hair back over her shoulder with a groan of irritation as you smirk tired, looking down at her efforts with pained amusement. Her brows meet as she glares at you prettily, Mylea tugging on your neck like a child against a overly enthusiastic hound.
"Duergir says you're too weak to stand. You need to rest or you'll hurt yourself more!"
She silks, pulling a strand of hair from her face and pushing against your bandaged chest once more.

You laugh, wincing and bringing your unbandaged hand against your ribs with a grunt and shake your head
"Dont you think ive slept enough? Id think you'd be happy to have me up and moving again"
Your chuckle only seems to irritate the girls further as Mylea redoubles her efforts, going so far as to brace her legs against the wall in an effort to pull you back.

"You nearly diiieeeeedddd!!!"
She squeals, her soft features red with exertion, her blue eyes scrunched shut as she grits her teeth.
"You've"
*yank*
"Been"
*tug*
"Sleeping"
*pull*
"For nearly a weeeek!!!"

You resist the urge to laugh at her adorably ineffective efforts and shake your head, your hair tangled and knotted but surprising washed and actually woven with some sweet smelling herbs and strips of cloth. You'll have to get those out before you're seen in public.

>"What happened?"

>"a week? What did I miss?"

>"how are my men?"

>"Miss me?"

>Other

>>2740295
>"Miss me?" also where are our other thralls?

We will give them some attention, and then go find our men.

>>2740295
>>"how are my men?"

>>2740295
>"a week? What did I miss?"

>>2740300
Ditto

>>2740295
>”What happened?”

>>2740300
>[
Same

>>2740295
>"a week? What did I miss?"

>>2740300
>havn't seen wives in 30 million years. they have taken care of you for a week while you've been near death. trying to tend to you still: "hey how are my men." While many of us are wizards, lets not make Magnus act like one.

That answer will come.

>>2740295
>>"how are my men?"

>>2740345
go jack off and then come back

You grin against the pain and bring your bandaged hand around her midriff, the mass of slightly bloodstained bandages awkward and rather concerning. Looking down at the slender young woman you grin cheekily and despite her ire she returns it after a moment.
"Whats the matter? Miss me?"
You laugh as she wraps her arms as far around you as she can, burying her face against your chest and sighing.

"Of course i did. What would happen to us if something happened to you? What would happen to.... We were so worried about you"

Mylea finally ceases her frenzied tugging and kneels behind you, resting her cheek against the back of your neck, sniffling slightly
"When they brought you in... We thought... We thought... You were covered in blood... And your hand... By the saints your poor hand"
Warm, liquid tears trickle down the back of your shoulder and you bring your unwounded hand up to caress her cheek, her face red and large blue eyes brimming with tears.

"Im fine. Ive been hurt before and far far worse than that my dears. Im just glad to be alive. Wounds heal, death is a bit more permanent...."
You trail off for a moment" thinking of the stranger you faced in your vision, the Beast in Iron, The Defiler. Shaking away the thoughts you force a large smile to your face and look down at Ysolde.
"Well what have I missed? How did my men fare? Im assuming they were the ones who dropped me here"

A sudden rustle by the cave entrance prompts you to look up and you smile in genuine happiness to see Duergir limp in, supporting his slight weight on his carved whitewood staff. His hide robes are tattered and musty, amulets and charms hanging in thick bundles from his neck and wrists, satchets of powder and ground roots tucked into his countless pockets. His thin, dry voice fills the cave as he slowly makes his way in, leaning on his trademark crutch.
"Your men? For the most part, they are whole and healthy. Of your friends? Urhost and Arvel are recovering from their wounds, Urhost came back in much the same condition as yourself"

>What say

>>2740345
I wanted nice weapons and hearty loot, not whores and lasses.

>>2740350
same

>>2740349
Sounds like only Urhost was the only one who was really hurt. Don't we have something we wanted to show Duergir? The plant bud thingy? Does he know how to fix our hand?

>>2740349
"Where are Aella and Keera? And cookies. Magnus hungers for cookies."

>>2740349
>>What say

How did the raid go?

>>2740350
I hate having to share this board with thirsty ass waifu and harem anons.

>>2740349

> "Urhost is a strong soul, I'm sure he'll be fine, but what of Dagmar? Did he die, or suffer any wounds? And what of my share of the plunder? No, nevermind that, what of my hand? The pain brings back memories best forgotten. Will it ever heal? If so, how long until I can raid again, and if not, how can I entreat the spirits to mend my flesh?"

>>2740350

This, once we're back on our feet, we'll need to have a chat with Dagmar, because we'll be damned if we were crippled for nothing.

>>2740369
Something to this effect, but more Magnus like. How did the raid go, etc.

I hope Dagmar got crippled fighting the leader. if there even was one.

>>2740374
I think we killed the best they had.
>>2740369
Also this.

While we wait to heal we can probably do some bonding with our two animals or oversee training of some of the Crag men. We might as well be productive.

Maybe even do a little padded training with the wives.

>>2740400
Does seeing the 2 boys we conscripted fall under oversee training?

>>2740418
not really since that old brute of an old man is already watching over them. I'm talking about the unnamed raider and marauder grunts under our command.

>>2740365
I onyl wanted good drinks for thr young boys, stuff to make cookies and good beer/wine with

>>2740449
I want to feed oatmeal cookies to the horses.

You sit up, suddenly intense with the mention of two of your friends being wounded. Behind his veil of grey-white hair, Duergirs black eyes glitter as he smiles softly, holding up a withered and wrinkled hand to stay your words.
"They will live. There were others wounded worse than they who survived and those who were wounded half as bad who died. But I have treated and bound their wounds and even managed to save that brute of yours foot."

You smirk at the thought of Arvel being told off and cowed by the frail old shaman and since as bruised muscles in your neck and jaw whine to you. Ysolde snuggles against your chest and you idly pull her a bit closer with your forearm.
"Urhost is a strong soul, I'm sure he'll be fine. Arvel is too stubborn to die, id have to cut his head off and burn it to put him down."
You and the old shaman share a small moment of laughter, Mylea and Ysolde sharing a amused look as you force onwards
"But what of Dagmar? Did he die, or suffer any wounds?"

Duergir shakes his head slowly, the amulets and charms hanging from his neck jingling and clattering softly.
"No Magnus, Dagmar neither fell nor was he maimed. Other than a few cuts and bruises and a missing tooth at least... He has done naught for a week but crow of his own bravery and your weakness. Throth had a word with him last night I could hear in my face and I hope that will be the last of it"

You scowl, your mind filling with images of Dagmar being forcefed his own intestines. You shake away the hopeful imagery and change the subject.

"At least he didnt get them all killed on the march back up here from Crescent Hall at least...speaking of which what of my share of the plunder?"
Your wounded hand twinges with a sudden flare of sharp pain. The obvious continual grating of broken bones and pulped flesh. But this feels much, much worse than a simple break...
"No, nevermind that, Duergir, be honest with me... what of my hand? The pain brings back memories... Ones id rather be forgotten. Will it ever heal?"

>Cont

>>2740597
Duergir sighs, leaning heavily on his staff as he regards the mass of bandages and herbal ointments that encased your crushed hand. Without prompting from you, Ysolde hops up, grabbing a wooden stool and offering it to the ancient shaman. A small smile crossing his dry lips as he pats the young woman on the arm thankfully, sinking onto the stool with the crack of complaining joints. Taking your wrapped hand in both of his, he deftly begins unwrapping the layers of bandages, the smell of blood and pungent ointments, oils and herbs filling your nose
"Your hand... Well Magnus... I won't lie to you my boy. Wren did his best with what he could. He is a capable healer in the field, able to treat broken bones, cuts, illness with the skill of most village healers. But this?"

With a final layer, the wet rip of moist scabs and sticky fabric squelching unpleasantly, your ruined hand is revealed. Swollen and purple the flesh on the back of your palm torn down nearly to the bone. Stitches and herbal ointments cover the back of your hand in a mat of desperate efforts. The flesh is red and purple, black with bruising and congealed blood, your fingers crooked and scabbed with dozens of cuts. Just the effort of twitching your fingers makes you grit your teeth in agony as the brutalized tissue squeals in protest. Duergir prods the maimed tissue with a long nail and *tsk's* to himself.
"This required intensive care and immediately. The bones of your hand were crushed and broken a dozen times over, the tendons torn and smashed, the flesh reduced to pulp. It took all his skill just to save your hand from mortification, burdened as he was with the other wounded. Your hand is beyond the skill of any healer to repair now, much like poor Hemmiks leg. You will have to simply make do with your new limits my boy."
Before you can even ask what your new limits even are, Duergir has pulled a small vial out from his belt, drizzling several droplets of a faintly purple oil onto your hand, the pain fading to a dull ache almost immediately.

"Your hand will heal, as much as it can. If you keep the bandages clean, keep from using it heavily and allow the bone to set in whatever way it is capable of, you will regain strength in the hand, if not any dexterity."

>Cont

>>2740600
>Cont

With a chuckle and a glance towards Mylea and Ysolde, Duergir continues
"Much to the detriment of your women... You will never be an artist with this hand magbus, not that you were in the first place. You can fight, in time. Strap the shield to your arm or try your luck at gripping a weapon. If you speak with Hemmik sweetly enough, he may even prepare you a brace that will force the bones back into a imitation of their correct form. It will be painful but you will regain use of your hand"

You are silent for a moment, lowering your head till your hair hangs low over your scarred face. This is... Troubling. Your entire life you have been a warrior. Killing and fighting is your profession. Having your ability to practice your craft is like blinding a painter. Finally you lift your gaze and level it upon Duergir, a wry smile tugging the corner of your mouth.
"Pain and I are old friends Wise One. Its sweet to me as my mothers milk. Ill live, ill adapt and adjust and come out stronger as always. Besides..."
You cut a a lecherous look to the curve of Ysoldes rear through her thin leather and cloth garments
"Ive done more with one hand than most men do in their lives"

>Wait for Shalla And Keera

>Force yourself to your feet. Youve got work to do

>You're awfully hungry

>Ask Duergir a question

>Ask Myles and Ysolde a question

>other

>>2740601
>Ask Duergir a question
Ask him about any mystical means of healing and the troll thing. the one with the passive +10 healing per turn. I also want to know how Dagmar's men had faired. They better be grateful for our assistance. Were it not for our aid they wouldn't have been held at the gates and slaughtered like dogs. (I'm asking cuz I'm hoping some of Dagmar's men will turn coat to our guys)

>Forearm automatic crossbow gun like Gutz when

>"Your hand will heal, as much as it can. If you keep the bandages clean, keep from using it heavily and allow the bone to set in whatever way it is capable of, you will regain strength in the hand, if not any dexterity."
So given time the had with regain it's strength but not it's dexterity?

>If you speak with Hemmik sweetly enough, he may even prepare you a brace that will force the bones back into a imitation of their correct form. It will be painful but you will regain use of your hand"
So if we get a hand it'll be dexterous again?

Could a metal brace provide a small armor bonus?

>>2740601
So we need superior medical attention to heal the hand. Does Duergir think there might be a doctor in a moonie town proficient enough (raid)? Is there a mystical means to fix the hand? Maybe kill and drink the blood of a troll or something? Finger a fairy?

>>2740601
>Ask Duergir a question
"I've made an oath, but i need you to look at these green scars and flower..."
and
>Wait for Shalla And Keera

>>2740639
I forgot about that. Good call.

>>2740601
>>Wait for Shalla And Keera

>>2740639
That and ask him about the Defiler.

>>2740601
>Stand up and plant that acorn soon

Looks like nobody in this thread reads Warlord: Sidestory. The figure we met in our dreams was Thallos The Defiler, the MC of that quest. Thallos just fought a spiritual version of Magnus and won, so I guess that's what caused their fates to meet.

>>2740601
>Force yourself to your feet. Youve got work to do
We got shit to do

>>2740834
shh anon. you will ruin the good fun.

>>2740609
This

And
>>2740639
>"I've made an oath, but i need you to look at these green scars and flower..."

>>2740779
I don't know that we should plant it close to home. Down in the valley would be a good place I think.

>>2740601
>You're awfully hungry
Hosntely might be easy to just cut that hand off and get a metal one made like guts and still be able to fight and hold shit

>>2740619
>>2741200

All things considered it would probably be easier to try getting that troll blessing and see if that helps fix us.

>>2741272
If getting the trolls blood thingy would work, then we might be able to convince Hemmik to make that brace for Magnus if we promise to get the first dose of trolls blood runes for him.

>>2740982
It needs to be near, we'll need to protect it

>>2741345
Mountains and forests don't mix too well for one, and we don't know what adverse effects it may have on people. As well, there's a possibility that it will cause religious tension.

Better off subverting the people of the valley.

>>2741373
we can ask the shaman what to do

>>2740601
wait for Shalla and Keera and then we've got to go talk to bitch boy Dagmar and Thoth

>>2740639
>>2740834
Going with these.

Writing

>>2741300
>>2741272
We probably should do something like this, we’d have to bring Hemmik on the hunt though, you have to earn those boons. That would be a pretty sweet though, Magnus and Hemmik smashing the shit out of trolls.

You twist your body slowly, swinging your bandaged and bruised legs off the side of the bed, Mylea leaning against your back and peering over your shoulder as you wipe your mouth with your uninjured hand, the taste of herbs and potions strong on your tongue. You idly reach and trace your fingers along the dark green scars across your upper shoulder, the markings raised and smooth to the touch. You raise a brow and level your gaze on Duergir, the shaman looking at the markings curiously.
"I have a question Duergir..."

The wizened ancient chuckles like a dry wind, tapping his staff against the floor of the cave and nodding to himself, his veil of thin grey-white hair shaking like a branch laden withi dead leaves.
"You have as many questions as stones on a mountainside Magnus but ill do my best"

Your shoulder tingles as you drag a finger along the raised welts, trying your best to relay the information to the best of your ability.
"On the way to Crescent Hill, in the Old Forest I couldn't sleep when we made camp. I took a walk into the forest... I *met* something out there Duergir. A spirit, some ancient being of the forest... She-"

"She?"
"What do you mean she?"

You nearly laugh at Ysoldes and Mylea's indignant yelps as Duergir nods sagely, stroking his braided beard with a withered hand.
"A spirit you say? A woman of the woods? Did you learn the name of this... Apparition?"

Mylea twirls a braided length of your hair while you lean forward, tucking your injured hand against your chest, taking a proferred cup of some steaming tea from Ysolde as she tends to the fire within the small oven Hemmik delivered.
"That I did Duergir... Among other things. Her name is Cameera, The Lady of The Forest, Daughter of the Wild King"

Duergir starts, coughing in surprise and stamping his staff against the floor as his eyes widen.
"Cameera? Daughter of Hykelion? Magnus..... You attract the most curious of company..."

You scratch your beard and smirk slightly, sipping the sweet and potent tea, hissing as your tongue is nearly scalded.
"What can I say? Ive always had a gift for the strange. What do you know of her? Is she dangerous?"

Duergir chuckles, accepting his own mug of tea from Ysolde with a gracious nod and a sprinkle of some dried herbs. He eyes you through the swirling steam and speaks after a moment.
"Yes Magnus. Yes she is. Even diminished as she is, she is still mightier than any mortal warrior I know of. Her ilk have not been worshipped since the days of heroes and so they have slowly grown weak, the frailest of them consumed by the mightiest. I can only assume she is the last of her kind. Last of the Old Spirits of the Forest. Her kind were never malevolent, never cruel unless roused to anger, just impartial. One was as likely to recieve a boon or a curse as they were to be ignored. Such is the nature of... Nature."
Duergir crackles at his small jest before continuing.

>Cont

>>2742212
>Cont
"But... Ive heard little of her in well over a lifetime... If she spared you without consuming your soul, she may have a calmer temper than the great Wild King."
Duergir leans close, cutting his eyes toward Mylea and Ysolde, grinning slightly
"Or did she have her fill of something else ? Eh Magnus?"

You can't help but laugh and grin like a madman as you nod, earning a dry cackle from Duergir and indignant gasps and light swats on your shoulder from Ysolde.
"I mean what man wouldn't? If not for just the story"

Duergir turns a amulet between his fingers as he nods, still chuckling
"Aye Magnus, just make sure the little ones arent listening when you tell it. Now... About those scars..."

Standing slowly, Duergir limps over to you, dragging a nail along your scarred shoulder and humming to himself, closing his eyes for s moment and chewing his lip.
"She gave you something in exchange for your seed it seems... You are marked Magnus and in no small way. A portion of her essence was woven into yours, a true Mark of The Wild. In the Old days, Cameera was known as the Mistress of the Hunt... Hmm... so id imagine that wild beasts will have a much more tolerant opinion of you as long as you don't do anything stupid.... As hard as that is for you"

You laugh along with the old shamans dry chuckle and Mylea and Ysolde's giggles as he returns to his stool. You suddenly remember and gesture at your pack
"Mylea? Could you?"

"Of course Magnus!"
She says brightly, bouncing off the bed and dragging your (for her) unbearably heavy pack over.

Digging through it, you withdraw a roll of soft cloth and carefully unravel it, fixing your gaze on Duergir.
"After we... Made our deal, she asked of me a favor in exchange for her mark and a boon. She asked me to plant *this* for her, somewhere near humans"
With a small flourish you reveal the silvery white flower, its nearly black leaves still fresh and green despite the week inside your pack. Even the soil among its roots is still dark and slightly moist. If you listen closely the flower itself is humming softly, a vague tingle in your ears that reminds you of distant singing.

Duergir focuses on the flower as Mylea and Ysolde ooh and ahhh in wonder of its supernatural beauty and pleasant aroma. The old shaman holds his hand over the flower and closes his eyes, mumbling to himself. Finally his eyes shoot open and to your surprise, instead of anger, the old shaman is grinning happily.
"A Blossom of The Wild? My boy.... This is a direct link to the spirit herself. Planting this would not only give her much needed energy, it would bring fertility and life to the area you planted it in. Crops will grow faster, trees will grow higher, beasts will breed and grow fat. It is a great blessing and an honor to be entrusted with this..."

>Plant it in the Valley the next time you return

>Plant it in the Crag

>Plant it in the Small Valley the Crag Wolves control

>Other

>>2742213
Plant it in a small valley in our territory, somewhere safe. It's important we all retain individuality.

>>2742213
>Other
Where do you think I should plant it grandpa, and can you remind me of those other boons?

>>2742213

Who is deserving of this boon? I am no prophet I am a warrior. I will fulfill my promise but not to raise followers for her, I'd rather raise followers for me.

What if I
>Plant it in the Crag
Making sure the wolves stay loyal forever?

>>2742213
>>Plant it in the Small Valley the Crag Wolves control

I think this would be a safe compromise perhaps.

>>2742213
>Other
plant it next to our home
otherwise I support
>>2742243

>>2742250
Also supported.

>>2742250
Awe no man. Then there'll be too much plant stuff near our home and we'll be constantly pruning plants.

I know I voted already but the choices are kind of tough. Do we plant it in the Crag so the mountain is lush with plant life and a little more warmer, or do we plant it in the valley territory that we control for more food?

>>2742256
Really, I'd like planting it in the moonlords valley to subvert their religion, but I think it would take a lot of effort to prevent its discovery and destruction, which in turn would attract attention.

Putting it in our valley seems to be a good option, more food is never a bad thing. Besides, reasons to believe that the mountains would benefit somewhat from it being in the valley as well.

>>2742213
Never mind about the troll thing. I found it.


>Rune of The Giant [can there be a mk.2?]- Your strength increases further into the realm of myth. Strength checks get +10 and your hp increase by +50. Gain another attack die with great and Ultra weapons.

>Rune of The Troll-Gain the ability of the hard-dying trolls to heal wounds in battle. Recover 10HP each round of combat.

>Rune of the Wyrm-Gain the voice of the serpent lords. Your words can compel the actions of lesser men (+10 to intimidation, persuasion and inspiring rolls)

>Rune of Conquest- Ancient generals whisper in your ears and men look to you as a god on the battlefield. +10 to the combat rolls of men you directly lead.

>Rune of IronSkin. Your skin is hard as armor, blades and arrows will fail without inhuman force behind them. +10 permanent armor.

>Rune of the Great Eagle. Your eyes and hand work as one. +10 to hit with thrown or ranged weapons and an additional +10 to melee attack hits.

>Rune of The Storm Dragon. The pure power of the Ancient Storm Dragon flows in your veins. Once per day empower an attack with an additional 1d100 lighting damage.

>Other, write in a custom rune.

Anyone got any good ideas for Runes? Maybe we now get an option to get some Runes from other spirits like, Polymorphy?

>>2742264
When they finally get word of it they'll probably burn it all to the ground. Perhaps we might have better luck using diplomacy to convince a few villages to turn their backs on the moon cunt?

>>2742225
Im changing mine to in the crag. Noone else but us should have this boon.

>>2742275
But think about all the food we'd be getting all year round.

>>2742276
Ya, but it seems it also affects the sentient life too, meaning it may grant us longer life.

>>2742275
The valley is ours though

>>2742281
But the crag is our real home

>>2742281
but the crag is the heart, concentrate the strength into a highly defensible fortification. how long until someone rolls in to smack our shit? Plus the crag is where we live, where our warriors live, it will make them all better for it.

>>2742288
>Crops will grow faster, trees will grow higher, beasts will breed and grow fat.

That doesn't seem like it would benefit the crag itself very much, put in the valley it would likely end our reliance on raiding for food, undoubtedly giving us a surplus. Besides, I still suspect it would cause conflict within the crag.

>>2742289
I don't doubt at all your real motivation is expanding the harem.

>>2742213
>>Plant it in the Small Valley the Crag Wolves control

>>2742297
I'm getting confused a bit. Do you mean you want to plant it in the Valley controlled by the moonies, or the small valley we control? If we get surplus food we can trade that with other tribes and factions.

>>2742301
While I would like putting it in the Moonlords valley, I don't think it's viable. The small valley we control is what I'm shooting for.

Though, putting thralls to work in that valley may perhaps result in some of them turning to worshiping Cameera, who we could send out into the Moonlords valley sowing dissent down the line.

>>2742301
Also, it'd be a strong point in unifying the tribes, have plenty of food to share.

>>2742213
>>Plant it in the Crag

>>2742213

> Plant it in the Crag

Planting it in the Crag provides an immediate benefit, by strengthening our standing in the Clan and feeding the population. Anywhere else would take years to yield dividends, and years more for Cameera's might to wane.

>Plant it in Wolves Belly Valley

You gingerly rewrap the faintly glowing flower as Duergir strokes his beard absentmindedly, his eyes focused somewhere far away. You stow the carefully bundled bloom back in your pack and clear your throat, calling Duergir from the depths of his thoughts. He focuses on you after a moment with a distracted grunt.

"If I planted this down in the Belly, do you think that would be a wise idea? Would it anger Vall to have another spirit possibly influencing us?"
You aren't eager to tempt the wrath of your foremost spiritual patron and Duergir would be the best source of advice here.

The old shaman sighs, wrinkling his brow as he thinks before finally rendering his thoughts to voice.
"If planted down in the Belly, that would likely see a great bounty from the fields and fruit trees from this day forth. The herds tended by the thralls would grow fat and healthy, dropping twins or even triplets and milking like rivers. Some of the thralls, those in the villages and the more nature sensitive among the Crag would make their way to this bloom and hear the voice of Cameera and countless some would worship her. That is the way of things. But as for Vall... Even I am not wise or arrogant enough to speak for him but..."
The old shaman trails off, idly toying with a carved amulet as he stares into the distance, eyes unfocused. You lean forward, tapping his shoulder with a finger.

"But what Duergir?"
Your question and gentle prodding seems to pull the wise one from his thoughts and he returns to you with a nod.

"But... Vall has never shown much interest in worship. He has no need of it and never has. As long as you don't curse his name or offer insult, he likely cares little for what you do in your own time. As long as you carry out his will or offer deeds in his name, Vall is pleased."
Duergir nods to himself, slowly pushing himself to his feet. Without prompting from you, Mylea and Ysolde help the ancient healer to his feet. With kind words gratefully given, he frees himself from their attention and turns to face you fully, leaning heavily on his staff.
"Be sure to visit me so I may check on your wounds as you heal. I have instructed young Keera in a bit of basic healing and of course, Shalla will be along to check on you once she finishes with her duties, she has been quite worried. As it is, I have other matters to attend to Magnus and even I cannot shirk them."
He cuts a small smile as his eyes flicker between Mylea and Ysolde
"And as do you I believe... I will give Urhost your greetings when I change his bandages. Until the next time Magnus, I wish you a good day."

You incline your head to Duergir, nodding the shaman farewell as he pushes open the bearskin covering to your home. With a final good natured nod, Duergir is gone and you turn to Mylea and Ysolde, the two women suddenly quiet and blushing, looking at each other nervously.

>What say?

>>2742506
>As long as you don't curse his name or offer insult
Oh the irony.
>*cough cough* last thread you guys. you know who you are.

>What say?
Besides worry about me the past week, how have the two of you been?

>>2742506
"What have you both squirming like maidens. Bring me something to eat and drink and you better tell me more good news. We will latter attend *that* other matter"

>>2742506

> "My hand is sore, bruised, and beet-red. In a few hours, you'll emphasize."

> Fade to black

>>2742543
>roll to meat hammer cuz Magnus is still injured

>>2742543
>> Fade to black

this

>>2742548
How? He can't handle two handed weapons anymore

>>2742543
Meathammering beats info hook.
>Roll me 2d100 for meathammer prowess. Satisfy those Wenches Magnus!

Rolled 47, 34 = 81 (2d100)

>>2742617
Are we only rolling because Magnus is injured?

>>2742618
You're rolling because the risk of failure is amazing

Rolled 70, 46 = 116 (2d100)

>>2742617

Rolled 64, 10 = 74 (2d100)

>>2742617

Rolled 16, 85 = 101 (2d100)

>>2742617

>70 & 46
>Magnus tires from his injuries on round two

Rolled 90, 85 = 175 (2d100)

>>2742617

>>2742617
I saw no best of three disclaimer! Clearly Magnus is of heroic stamina. +10 to FOS.
>>2742630

>70>DC55. Ysolde is satisfied! Ysolde relation increased!
>46<DC65. Mylea is Content if unsatisfied. Mylea Relation does not improve.

You rise from your bed of piled skins and cloth, rolling your neck and twisting to pop your back, unconcerned with your nudity as the blanket covering your hips falls away. Tossing back the mug of tea, you turn a predatory gaze onto Mylea and Ysolde, the pair suddenly realizing their peril. Mylea actually takes cover behind the taller girl, her voluptuous form comically revealed by Ysoldes slender frame. Wiping your lips and chin free of droplets of steaming tea, you eye them both hungrily, Ysoldes eyes fixed with a nearly identical look of hunger onto your scarred body. You hold up your maimed hand and give them both a rueful grin.
"My hand is sore, bruised and red. You'll both be feeling similarly"

"Oh yeah?"
Ysoldes dark eyes flash as she almost imperceptibly licks her lips, her eyes flickering downward for a moment.

"Oh by the saints..."
Mylea whispers, her pale cheeks turning crimson as she watches you approach. Her breathe has quickened as you loom over both the young women like a giant, taking Ysoldes chin between forefinger and thumb. She stares up at you, dark eyes wide and full lips parted.

"I like that fire in you."
Your voice has dropped to a low growl as you bring your uninjured arm around her waist, lifting her up easily. Mylea squeals as you still, grabbing her soft rear with a large hand and easily lift her likewise, putting her over your shoulder before tossing both excitedly giggling women onto the bed. It has been far too long since you enjoyed the perks of being a warleader...

>Time passes

You lay back against the soft furs of your bed, sweat rolling from your limbs, small stars dancing before your eyes. Ysolde curls against your side, similarly drained, her neck, thighs and breasts decorated with rapidly darkening marks and bites. She breathes heavily, looking up at you with eyes glazed with exhaustion and lust, her body simply unable to keep up with her desire.

"Whats wrong Magnus? Am I doing it wrong?"
Mylea's strained and panting voice rings in your ears like a silver chime and you smile up at the curvy young blonde, admiring the view of her shapely body as she works her hips with vigor and devotion, her small hands braced against your chest as her golden curls cling to her sweat-sticky cheek.

>Cont

>>2742735
>Cont

As lovely as her attentions feel, you think you have misjudged your abilities within such little time of awakening and while your weapon hasnt exactly failed you, it has yet to deliver the finishing strike despite Mylea's frantic strokes. You chuckle tiredly, your unfounded hand squeezing her jiggling rear with such a firm grip she squeaks in pleasure and pain and you reassure her.
"Its not you Mylea, not at-hnnnggghh.. All. I... think I may have bitten off more than I can chew with- hrrggghh...both of you just so soon after waking. Ill be sure to... Ah... properly attend you once ive got my energy back"
You grin mischievously and Mylea blushes crimson, her movements slowing as she draws off of your hips, settling against you with a happy sigh, tracing a finger across a scar on your chest. Her large blue eyes fix on yours as she bites her lip, smiling to herself.
"You're too kind to me Magnus... A much better match than Sanmus wouldve been"
Her eyes flick downwards towards your hips and she licks her lips hungrily before fixing her sky blue eyes on you
"A *much* better match. I may have been happy with some simple life as a shopkeepers wife but.. I wouldn't really be happy. Just content.. Im happy here. With Ysolde and Shalla and Keera, with Duergir and Sheema and the children..."
Her eyes light up for a moment and she smiles, biting her lip happily before continuing
"Speaking of.... You... You don't have to worry too much about making sure everything... Finishes... When we're together... Shalla thinks... Well she thinks it's already taken care of"

It takes a moment for you to figure the meaning of her words but when they arrive, the realization hits you like a hammer to the forehead.

You're going to be a father.

>What say?
>Roll me 2 Seperate 1d2 because reasons.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>2742740

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>2742740

Aw snap, Plan Found Our Own Clan is in motion!

>>2742750
>>2742778
Ok thats two 1's.

Still need a what say/what do write in. Completely up to you guys

>>2742782
">I wonder how my parents would feel."

>>2742740
"I wake to you, company, and still better tidings come. My petty losses a hundred times replaced...Mylea. You are my family, valued, loved, now the mother who carries my child. More than a thrall. Never forget this. More than you think of yourself."

>>2742782
Know any good names? I'm drawing blanks.

>>2742740
What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I'm the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You're fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You're fucking dead, kiddo.

>what say
>ask her what we should name the heir to our kingdom

>>2742857
>>2742856
Actually, changing my vote to support this

>>2742789

I'll back this.

>>2742789
Supporting

>>2742856
Ditto

>>2743250
Im joking though
>>2742789

>>2742740
Damm now i better goet back out there and get you all the things you need for cookies

For a long, drawn out moment, your blood pounding in your ears like a waterfall, you stare at Mylea in frozen shock. Her soft, gentle features are tinged pink from her own delighted blush, her eyes wide as she waits for your response. For the longest time, all you can do is breathe, her long golden ringlets twitching with each o exhalation as she leans her head against your chest, looking up at you with a contented smile. Finally you break into a massive smile, bringing your sore and bruised hand around to hold her body close against you, ignoring the ache in your crushed bones. You chuckle and look up at the ceiling, shaking your head and grinning like a loon. Finally you look down at Mylea, her fingers tracing across your chest.

"Well... I wonder what my parents would say. All this time later and they're finally going to be grandparents..."
You squeeze the curvy young woman against your chest and laugh at her delighted squeal. You pause in your happiness for a moment and touch Mylea's chin with a finger, looking into her eyes.
"How long have you known?"

She smiles, her even teeth white against her rapidly tanning skin, the gifted silver necklace nestled between her ample busom.
"Just before you came back. My moons blood never came... I went to Shalla and she told me to speak with Duergir. He took a drop of my blood and tasted it and told me I was with child"
She wriggle up your body like a eel, planting a firm kiss onto your lips with a large smile on her face, hugging around your neck and nearly smothering you before withdrawing, looking down at you happily
"*Your* child Magnus. Duergir said its healthy and going to be a boy. Ysolde told me its too early to know but I trust Duergir. Im so happy! All I ever wanted was to be a good mother and care for my children!"
She idly rubs her palm along her (for now) smooth stomach, her eyes closed in happiness before she looks up at you for your approval.

A son? A firstborn son to carry your name?

How could you not be happy?

You laugh, carefully pulling your uninjured arm from underneath the snoring Ysolde, wrapping Mylea's short frame into a massive hug as you stand, holding her close as she showers small kisses upon your neck and lips. You pull back as she giggles breathlessly, tossing hair from your face with a jerk of your neck.
"A son? Duergir told you this? My firstborn... I promise to you Mylea, to you, to him, to Ysolde and Jeers, to any others who join our family, I promise.."

>Happiness. They wont face the hardships you did as a child. They will not hunger or want.

>Power. They won't be born the children of peasants. They will. Be destined to rule.

>Safety. None will threaten them. Any harm to your children will come over your dead body.

>Strength. They will be taught to fight and think as warriors and leaders from their earliest years.

>Other (write in)

>>2743735
>Jeers.
Keera. Wtf phone

>>2743735
>>Happiness. They wont face the hardships you did as a child. They will not hunger or want.
We are strength so that children can play and smile from evil. What their life is is their choice.

>>2743735
>"Let him be whoever he thinks he is. That's all anybody could hope for in this world".

>>2743735
Strength and individuality
Our family will never need to fear.

>>2743735
>Other (write in)
From now and in the future, boy or girl, they will be rounded. They will grow to be happy and safe, but as they get older I will teach them to fight for themselves. When they are of age, it will be their path to choose.

>>2743743
That and hoping Magnus doesn't fuck up as a parent. No parent wants to fuck up.

>>2743735
>>Power. They won't be born the children of peasants. They will. Be destined to rule.

ffs when are we going to get back to the interesting stuff

>>2743735

> Strength

Fits Magnus' personality.

>>2743735
>Strength. They will be taught to fight and think as warriors and leaders from their earliest years.
The only real choice

>>2743738
Weak men make hard times anon. All must understand hardship, and overcome it.

"Strength. My strength and all I can teach them to make them strong. Strong enough where none can harm them. They will learn from the best, to think and fight and plan and *lead*. They will never know weakness or fear. This is promise to you Mylea. To you and this Child, to Ysolde and Keera. They will be strong and ready for the hardships of this world"
Your voice is low and deep, the calm declaration of intent that only a man swearing an oath to himself can understand. Mylea's eyes shine with a glimmer of joyful tears as she buries her face in your neck, hugging herself to you as tightly as she can.

"They'll be so strong Magnus... Strong and just and kind, just like you..."
Her voice is soft as you slowly put her down, small bare feet padding across the stone floor as she bends, giving you a wonderful view of her plush rear as she throws the fur blanket over Ysoldes slender form. Turning to you, she hugs her arms across her chest, raising a brow mischievously.
"Don't think you can forget about me though... Ill hold you to that promise"

You laugh, shaking your head at her candor as she drapes a blanket across her shoulders, its length scraping the ground as she tends the coals in the iron oven with a small poker, her face flushed with heat as she pulls back. Taking note of a emanating scent, you reach over, snatching one of the small golden discs from a basket near the stove. Happily munching on the slightly crisp treat with a contented grunt Mylea swats your hand playfully, giggling like a maid as you painfully dress yourself, pulling on your leggings and a thin cloth shirt. She tenderly helps you rewrap your hand, her small fingers gentle on the sore flesh as she rubs in a scented oil that tingles against the crushed skin. As you prepare to greet the day and assess the damage of the raid, she calls out.
"Shalla and Keera are down in her home, shes tending some of the more wounded and Keera likely got roped in to help her"

>Go see Shalla and Keera

>Go check on Urhost and Arvel

>Go see Throth

>Go see Barbas

>Go to the Bonfire.

>Go see Hemmik

>Go check on your Griffin Pup

>Go check on DarkSky

>Other

>>2743782
>>Go check on your Griffin Pup
>>Go check on DarkSky

>>2743735
>Other (write in)
"Numerous siblings to grow up with."

>>2743782
>Go see Shalla and Keera
Let's see our men and the survivors. Magnus lives!

>>2743782
>Go see Shalla and Keera

>>2743782
Go see Throth

>>2743782
>Go see Throth
>Go check on your Griffin Pup
> Dark sky
>Urhost and all the other wounded men

>>2743895
This honestly. Throth first, then check out our Griffin, and then our boys. We also need to pay Dagmar a visit and check in on our loot.

>>2743820
Supporting

>>2743782
Go see Shalla and Keera

>>2743782
>>Go see Throth

>>2743895

>>2743895
This

>Go see Shalla and Keera

Bidding Mylea and the gently snoring Ysolde goodbye, you duck through the opening to your home, holding back the beaten in flap with your forearm and taking a deep breathe of the clean, crisp air of the high mountain pass. Smoke and cooking food, brewing ale and tanning hides, herbs and pungent steam hissing from beaten kettles, sweat and the scent of hundreds of humans.

Its home to you.

Below the stone path, nearly a hundred feet beneath you, the Crag Wolves are going about their day. Thralls carry loads and stir cookpots, sew garments and repair tools. In the Pit, shouts of bloodlust and fury echo out as two young warriors beat each other senseless. From the small forges and workshops carved into the split peak, hammers ring on metal, leather is cut and dried, red hot iron and steel hiss as they are quenched in boiling water.

You step back as a winged shadow sweeps overhead, a familiar black feathered shape screeching happily as it wings by, beating its powerful wings to slow as it lands atop a spire of stone, its powerful claws digging into the stone. You laugh at the griffin pups not and look over its increased size with a proud eye.

"Seems you got bored of being chained up"
You call out, noting the tattered leather and iron collar ganging from its thick neck. The young griffin snorts, clacking its hooked beak and warbling happily as it could its head at you.
"Yeah yeah I missed you too little guy."

With a excited shriek, the young griffin leaps from its perch, swooping low over the village center and eliciting yelps of shock and irritation a long with squeals of delight from the children. You chuckle to yourself and make your way slowly down the curving path alongside the peak. Nodding and calling out in greeting to several Crag Wolves who call to you, patting the head of a familiar blonde toddler who smacks your leg with a wooden sword and even accepting a stern glare from Urhost's amazon of a wife Hylla. The fact she didnt bludgeon you with that iron kettle must mean she is in a good mood.

Finally reaching your destination, you stand outside Shalla's home" the appreciably sized wood and stone hut concealing the entrance to a rounded cave that serves as shop, home and place of healing. Runes and souls are carved into the wood around the doorway, the entrance covered by a thick leather sheet braced with strips of wood. From within, you can catch glimpses of firelight, moving figures and groans of pain along with muffled conversation between a pair of feminine voices.

>Knock and enter

>Wait for them to emerge

>Enter without knocking

>Call out.

>Other