Sign of the Hammer - A Warhammer Mod Game. Game on!

[Burnsaber]

Game started! The first turn will host at 50 hours and the ones after that in 26h.

Here's my in-game action report, which will follow the adventures of my prophet, Gutbelcher. I'm too familiar with Ogre lore (I'm not sure if they're actually illeterate or not) so please forgive me any inconsisties.

Originally Posted by Quote from the book 'Chronicles of Might: The Devouring of the World'

Hello there fellow literate slave, you have been likely ordered to read these chronicles out loud for some smelly Ogrelings. Remember this: whatever you do, don't read the parts closed with "(" and ")", they are for my notes, which I had to scribe in order to stay sane. I can only hope that they will shed some light into how this world became one of gluttony and gore.

(My name Rulf Dambach and a long time ago, I was a engineering student in Nuln. That seems so long ago. Me and some of my university friends got caught by Ogre slavers, and my life hasn't been the same since. The Ogres are famous for their illiteracy and I've been acting as a mundane scribe slave for over 10 years now, reading and writing for them when it is necessary. It's pretty bad, but not as bad as what happened to my engineering friends, may Morr be merciful on their souls, for the Ogres showed none to their mortal bodies.)

(I have witnessed the rise of their awakening god, and I'm quite profoundly scared. He's the most frightening and powerful thing I have ever seen in my life, and do remember that I've been living with the Ogres for a decade. He, described and refered to simply "The One Who Crawled From the Pit", ordered me to write down the glorious deeds of his prophet so that following Ogre generations can have his deeds read for them (by other slaves, presumably) after the One Who Crawled From The Pit sits on the Throne of Thrones.)

(Gutbelcher, the Prophet of The One Who Crawled From The Pit, is one of the strongest Ogres of the realm and none can beat him in a eating contest. As for his name, it comes from his (very disturbing) habit of belching on his foes right after defeating them. These belches often contain unprocessed parts of his latest meal, or to be put on Ogre terms, "Guts". He's also developed the habit of doing this without any provocation on any passerbys, just for fun, I presume. (you won't believe the smell! The SMELL! It's simply profound!)).

(I've seen the might of the Ogres, and I despair, for I know who will win the Ascension Wars. I know what it mean for my race. Serve, either as an slave or an meal.)

(Just to clarify. just read the following to the ogres)

Gutbelcher strong and eats most! He devours all in the name of Pitcrawler amd grows even stronger! He will beat everything, with a fist to the face! (*sigh*, pause for laughter).

Ogres most strong! Eat well and fight a lot young ones and you will might be as strong as Gutbelcher one day!

[DrPraetorious]

All living things have their place and role in the Plan.

Those interested in understanding this role should engage their primitive written discourse with us. Those who are uninterested fulfill the Plan also in their way, and are not to be discounted but instead killed.

Courtesies and other primitive demonstrations of insincere good will to you all,
Knife Bright Insight

[Sombre]

(I'll post some in character RP stuff when the results for the first couple of turns are in - I will also be playing semi RP, though aiming to win of course - no prohetised scout for me)

[llamabeast]

Some Bretonnia things, and a bug:

1) Is it deliberate that the questing knight leader has leadership zero? It's really aggravating, being as he comes with troops and produces troops every turn. I always have to recruit a Bretonnian Lord just to tag along with him and bring his troops.

2) I'd like to request a minor sprite change to the questing knight commanders, so I can recognise them from their troops on the battlefield.

3) I don't understand why Virtue of the Quest is both harder to cast and to research than Errantry war. I mean basically, it's just Errantry War + free cloud trapeze, right? I can see maybe it is worth a little research to get the option of that convenience (though it is rather niche), but if I ever manage to get an S3 damsel the chances of me using her for that are almost zero. Short version: I suggest it should be S2. Or even S1.

Now the bug:

2) Errantry War and Virtue of the Quest produce Skaven. I suggest we leave the mod for a while though, to give time for other things to crop up. They're not low level spells.

[Burnsaber]

Originally Posted by llamabeast

Errantry War and Virtue of the Quest produce Skaven. I suggest we leave the mod for a while though, to give time for other things to crop up. They're not low level spells.

I guess you have the old version of the mod. Try one from this link:

http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/showp...2&postcount=53

I changed the "Message of the Day" to reflect this situation.

[llamabeast]

Okay I'll look into that.

I wonder if Squirreloid knows we've started?

[Sombre]

Long had the Grand High Priest Tet Nukh Baset slumbered in his gilded tomb. Too long. Tet Nukh Baset awoke to find his glorious kingdom as dead as he, the priests in torpor, the great lineage of kings sealed in their tombs. This was not paradise. This was not even Nehekhara. This was a wilderness, the like of which Tet Nukh Baset knew only from the tales of Nehekhara's birth and the rise of the first dynasty. As galling as the circumstances of his awakening were, they were also somehow appropriate. He was reborn and his people would be too, in a perfect new form, to rise once more and show the world the glory of Nehekhara.

No paradise, mused Tet Nukh Baset, crushing the last of yet another group of mewling savages beneath his sleek gilded form. But an opportunity. The kings would be awoken in due course, but first his loyal servants. His right hand priest Muntuhotep had risen from his torpor already, and each month more priests awoke to curse the world and praise Baset.

As crude, jagged axes bounced from his carapace, Baset sensed something dark whirling at the edge of his mind. He ignored it. These last savages were odd, covered in tattoos that were strange yet at the same moment familiar. No matter. He crushed a handful of them and they fled, gibbering in their foul tongue. They would not threaten Nehekhara.

[Squirrelloid]

A man with the same strange tattoos as the fleeing savages, but cloaked in a long robe, stands atop a hilltop watching the advance of the gilded scorpion horror. At last he speaks, and the wind itself carries his words to the creature's ears.

"Terrible one, your might is without question, and you are great and powerful. But know that we may be of use to you in the coming war. We stand betwixt you and two nations who might resist your power, and should you restore our land to us and leave to us those lands bordering our keep, we pledge not to come in warfare against you, a shield to complement your fine golden sword, for a period of at least one year. Take what council you need, and when you have an answer for us, speak it to the wind and it will find its way to our ear."

[Trumanator]

And the Lord cameth upon the Bretons in his lands, terrorizing his people. And he smote them with his fury, and their eyes were filled with terror and their blows were weak, for He had the protection of heaven.

[Burnsaber]

Another chapter, following the life of Rolf the Engineer student/scribe slave under Ogre rule.

It seems that many people have been inspired to post in-character. I like this.

Originally Posted by Quote from the book 'Chronicles of Might: The Devouring of the World, Chapter II'

(I've decided to use this book as my journal too, since extra paper is hard to come by and the Ogres are too stupid to check if I'm writing the chronicles all the time. Summer has turned to fall and the Ogres keep on marching, I don't know if any mortal force is able to resist them. Gutbelcher just keeps on growing and growing, eating whenever he isn't either sleeping or fighting. He's also taken the habit of taking great amounts of enjoyment from tormenting me.)

(Whenever he isn't insisting on me taking down the exact measurements of his next meal, he's.. spitting on me. It started by accident when he justspilled (believe me, this is the correct verb) while devouring an ox. Seeing my great disgust made him, and all other ogres present laugh. Getting a smelly and slimy ball of ogre spit on my face was one of the worst experiences in my life and now it's a sort of running gag, that just won't stop. What in the name of Sigmar have I done to deserve this!)

(Gutbelcher is the worst, not only does he have the worst saliva, he has taken the habit of practicing, since I've managed to dodge some spits from him. Now, over the months, he has developed a simply miraculuos aim. He once got me all over the dining hall! I don't why he went to such extreme lenghts to develop his aim, it's not like Ogres use weapons that need aiming beyond pointing at the right direction.)

(Well, as long as I'm writing, I might as well write some Chronicle stuff too)

I recently followed Gutbelcher to battle, to take down his deeds on the field. This small province was guarded by a handful of archers and heavy spearmen. Ogres were suprised to find the opposing force lead by a Conjurer, a mage of dark arts. We had some mercenary crossbowmen on our side, who kept the spearmen on check. The opposing archers wasted their fire on a single ogre who was placed to the front as a bait, for Gutbelcher himself took a suprisingly cunning route over the edges of the battlefield.

Gutbelcher advanced over the field, squashing the skeletons animated by the mage with ease and felled a force commander of the opposing forces with a single blow. He then proceeded to grap his hand for snack. But the conjurer casted a spell, causing great cuts to appear on Gutbelcher, spilling his blood in great streams all over the ground. But he ignored the blood loss and devoured the mage, right there, on the field, with robes and everything!

He seemed suprisingly unfaded by the great loss blood, being more concerned for his left eye, which the spell had cutted open. Unfortunately the eye was unsalvageable. (Thank Sigmar! We'll see him aim with only one eye!). In anger, Gutbelcer *belched* a piece of the conjurers robe and place it over his eye as an improvised eyepatch. Then he swore to personally devour any mage who dared to try to affect him with a spell after this.