Nurgle-infected grots have suddenly come across a massive cave within the worm, and to their surprise a factory… of sorts. Ossiarch Bonereapers have built massive infrastructure around a small realmgate, and currently ‘mine’ the bones that the worm eats on its journey. Unfortunately, the Bonereapers have seen the grots, and so as battle rages on top of the worm, so too does it rage deep in the bowels.
In the Deep
Deep below the corrupted have delved a little too deep...
Game Master Notes
These notes exist to help you run through the Quest. They are put here by the creator and should give you some direction as to what they had in mind when they created the Quest
This Quest has been made specifically for the Vurm-tai Campaign. If you intend to help resolve it, you’ll automatically be participating in the campaign. I highly recommend that you join our Discord server so you can work with others to accomplish the quest.
For this Quest specifically, you’ll be fighting over control of the small realmgate within the worm, and its connection to Shyish. You’ll need to get through an army of Bonereapers though if you wish to be successful. If you’re playing Bonereapers or Nurgle you should get an advantage of sorts in your games to represent the work that has gone into keeping the realmgate a secret, and the infections you’ve made, respectively. If you choose to represent the Spiderfang that wasn’t infected, you also get an advantage for your amazing nest-building skills.
- The Weaver -
Rewards
Sometimes a Quest creator will tell you what you get for completing the Quest, depending of the outcome of course. If there is nothing, you can obviously create your own rewards, ahhh… imagine the possibilities…
Whoever wins this quest will take possession of the realmgate inside the worm, as well as its link to Shyish!
Have you played through this Quest or Rumour?
If you’ve played through or resolved this in any way, be sure to tell us right here on the Quest page, we’d love to know what happened!
“I don’t think they know of the Realm gate”, Vorigan whispered while watching Orruks feed on the Duardin they attacked moments before. “I think they are blindly attacking and moving forward.”
“You might be right. These dumb creatures can’t possibly know about the gate in the middle of the worm” Arabella said while being handed a goblet of blood by one of her handmaidens. “But we need to stop them before they actually cause some problems”
Raddock and Bellacrad was having a silent conversation which irked Arabella. “Any thoughts?” she sneered at the two.
“We are not fond of greenskin blood”, Raddock said. “So, I am not excited about fighting them and I am not happy about them eating our food.”
“But we suppose they should be taken care of.” Bellacrad interrupted.
Raddock growled. “I don’t like the look of those two Maw-Krushas though.”
“I could deal with the one” Arabella said after gulping some blood a bit too quickly. “He’d be too afraid to do anything. Haw haw haw.”
Vorigan has seen that look on her face too many times to not know what she is thinking. She is planning on scaring an Orruk mega-boss and Maw-Krusha!!! It would be the biggest creature she has ever scared bloodless! Vorigan chuckled for the first time in 60 years. “Heh. That smirk says that’s all you will be doing this battle though. I’ll kill the other one. Hopefully I will get to see them piss themselves when you use your magic on the beast and the mega-boss.”
“Let’s lure them in by acting like we didn’t know they were coming.” Arabella said before Bellacrad could say it. They have done this tactic many times before and it always worked. “Those dumb creatures will actually think they surprised us.”
And so, they went back to the rest of their troops and made 2 bonfires knowing that it would attract the Orruks.
And come they did.
The two maw-Krushas charged both flanks followed by some of their Gore-gruntas. The Maw-Krushas to the left struck overshot stumbled giving Vorigan enough space to counter. And counter they did. In moments Vorigan and his dragon killed both rider and mount with precise ferocious attacks.
The Maw-Krushas to the right charged a fleeing Raddock, grabbing Raddock and flinging his unconscious body away. But as Raddock got flung away Arabella cast her magic and instilled intense dread on the Orruk and his mount.
Vorigan saw the Maw-Krushas turn and squirm away from the Coven throne. Did the Maw Krusha get paler? Vorigan heard laughter and was surprised when the laughter was coming from his own mouth. He had never seen a Maw-Krusha afraid before and it was a hilarious sight. The Coven throne pursued the fearful creature while chipping at it.
“This battle is over” Bellacrad said as she killed a Gore grunta with a spell reshaping it into a more wolfen creature that she controls.
The Orruks fought to the last Orruk.
Arabella finally killed the cowardly maw Krusha when she got tired of trolling it hours later.
Major victory for death and one less army that might have caused problems at the realm gate.
Kurdlydia Rank wood ritual maybe have failed but six other sites have succeeded to summon daemon know as Golphormon the fowl also his twisted legion of the tainted heart large army of lesser daemon and rot bringers now march on wards towards the Dawn bringers new city because the iron Templar storm cast fail to find and destroy the ritual sites in time.
Maggot kin of Nurgle major victory vs storm cast
Lord Kuru looked back at his fallen lieutenant. The Lord Executioner’s had cut him down just moments ago yet the moment, it’s ephemeral axe cleaving his bug riddled form. The insects already scattered, seeking refuge in the crevices deep beneath within the worm.
Ser Oris had been the one to bring him to Nassylotl, after finding him starved and decrepit in the Forest of Gorch. He nurtured him back to health on supple minds and taught him the was of Grabdfather Nurgle.
His usual despair was spiced with the flavors of loss and regret, savory herbs of Nurgle’s palette. He savored these tastes, complex blends not often felt by those blessed by chaos.
“My lord,” Festis spoke in a somber gurgle “ It is time.”
Kuru sighed “I suppose it is.”
He strode towards the great ossified barrier that was their goal. It was ancient, made long before the work even had the inkling to crawl up from the mud during the Great Rains.
He picked up the harbingers scythe along the way, hefting both his axe and the great weapon. He was weary after running the gauntlet the forces of nagash, he body weeping in pain and humors. He slammed and chipped at the great bones, chips bouncing off his form.
Underneath the clamor, he heard Festis weaving his ritual. Corrupted hymns of jade magic, strands of sickly green weaving themselves around and under the rotbringer king.
“This spell will give you a new blessed form, allowing you to steal the strength of your foes.” Festis’ voice strained weaving the winds to his will.
Beyond the barrier, a dull roar shook the chamber. The shaking was soon followed by thunderous blows from the opposite side. Lord Kuru cried out, joy and ambition driving him forward. The plan was coming together.
A dry war horn called out from behind them, the echoes of marching morteks not far behind. Kuru redoubled his efforts, it had to be perfect, the wall had to come down as Festis completed his ritual.
Festis screamed, the magics were embracing his form, rotting him even as he commanded them. He pushed his will into it as his limbs crumbled, urging the powers into Lord Kuru. Festis looked upon him and smiled. “Who will rise from the lie of hope?”
Searing pain gripped the rotbringer. He looked back at the man that crowned him a king among worms. His insides felt they were being devoured.
“Only the faithful” he responded
“Who can lay low both the light and the shadow?” Festis croaked as his body flaked away.
The echoes from both ways grew louder, the barricade had begun to bulge out from its setting.
Lord Kuru roared tossing aside the weapons.
Festis slips curled in a blighted grin, falling limp on the floor. A joyous rictus that would make any son of nurgle envious and proud.
Lord Kuru tossed aside his few armor plates, keeping his arms wide. He faced the barricade as it crumbled. His back becoming riddled with arrows, the legions of nagash had arrived right on time.
A stooped form ducked into the cavern, seemingly unfazed by the change in scenery or by the bone sliver arrows volleying at them. Large and pale like a waxed moon, the dankhold troggoth was well on its way to growing into a true boss. He looked down at the exposed treat before him, and lifted the man thing in his free claw.
The gnawing in Lord Kuru reached a frenzied peak, his flesh barely able to contain whatever Festis had conjured. The troggboss opened his mouth wide, intent to swallow him whole.
In that moment, Lord Kuru slipped from his old mind into his new form, in a spray of rotten gore, a fat maggot of silver hue leapt from the body and bucked it self into the maw of the troggoth.
It’s mouth snapped shut, what could be called a quizzical look crossed over it’s face. Reaching a claw into its mouth feeling around, trying to gain purchase upon the invader. Unable to, it resolved itself to bash the side of its head in hopes to knock it loose.
A wet crunch, and the troggboss stood stiff, arrows sinking into its flesh. Mortek guard marched upon it. Other troggoth’s stomped past to attack the crunchy treats.
It rolled it’s neck in a loud satisfying pop. Lifting his stone club in two hands, it continued its inevitable march.
“Only the faithful.” It rumbled.
“Thou are hereby informed, rebel, that thou are to submit to ye rightful authority of Necrotopia, and stand trial.” the ecchoing voice of the Tithe-Master boomed across the blasted plain, breaking the constant rumbling of the gigantic worm behind its army a constant noise.
“Nagash is all, and all is Nagash. Thou shall cease thine activities in ye current location forthwith, and submit to confinement until thine crimes be judged.”
“Ridiculous. Go find some bone to chew on, clerk!” spat out Inquisitor Sinestor. He knew he was provoking the very Tithe-Master of the Bonereapers, Master Vokmortian. And he knw very well that Umberspire had already subverted a few bone-legions to their cause in the past. The Ossiarch Empire had many good reasons by now to slay, capture and torture (in that order) any representative of his city, so he wasn’t doing himself any favours on that front.
Especially… when floating behind Vokmortian he could see a lich-mage riding a dread construct of bone, holding a staff whose sigil all cursed spirits knew well. Arkhan the Black. Was he truly returned to the Realms? The figure remained silent.
More Bonereapers were fighting in the distance atop the worm, but this force in front of them was much smaller. Something they could deal with. Sinestor believes the Ossiarchs weren’t expecting to find much resistance here, not with the chaos going on atop the worm. But what they came down for, he didnt know yet.
“Nagash is dead. Again.” Sinestor shrugged. “We follow our own path, and do not wish to be bothered. Stand aside, do not meddle in our business, and you will never see us again.” the Inquisitor offered. “Stand in our way…” he said, raising his balesword “…and we will show you why the Inquisition is the most feared institution in our fair city. We offer you fair terms, Tithe-master. But we shall not stand for your insults.”
The Bonereapers remained silent for several moments.
Zindimir was not yet done studying the leylines, and without putting the pieces together, they could not recreate the ritual Drekazra used. They were almost there. They simply had to delay this one final threat.”
A rumble shook the earth. A mound of earth rose between the two armies, and the sculpted form of a statue emerged. It rose many feet in the air until its base was fully out of the earth. A macabre monument, interred in the earth long ago, which clearly resonated with amethyst energies. “So, this was a very long-term plan already” thought Sinestor, understanding the Bonereapers had always planed to use this location to settle a new tithe fiefdom. The convergence of leylines surely would be useful to them… But not before the Inquisition was done here. Not yet.
Vokmortian struck his staff on the ground, and the bone catapult launched a stream of fiery skulls into the air, aimed at the Inquisition’s Templars.
No truce was to happen here today.
(…)
“I told you, clerk. You meddled with our affairs at your own peril.”
Sinestor had the Tithe-master at swordpoint, his bone armour cracked. His bodyguards shattered on the floor, and the Inquisition templars closing in. The Bonereapers’ artillery was being cut down by the crew of the Shifting Shrine, the Inquisition’s flying ship.
After suffering many casualties, the Inquisition finally had the upper hand.
The tithe-master simply replied. “You still have much to learn.” And he snapped his fingers. Nothing happened that Sinestor could see.
“Too late for your tricks.” The Inquisitor plunged his balesword through the bone frame of the Tithe-master, fracturing it in a hundred pieces.
“Sir, we have a problem.” Zindimir called. The mage was still locked in concentration at trying to study the leylines. “They have gained ground on my focal points. They are trampling all over the lines, I can’t feel them!”
Sinestor looked over the cliff. His templars and the Chained Shadow had held the focal points well, but now the apparently-returned Mortarch of Sacrament was standing over the wisps of their remains… No matter, they disabled their artillery and brought them out of position… they still controlled the lines… or did they?
Zindimir pointed to the opposite side of the battlefield, where they had secured one of the beast-shrines that anchored the lines…
And Sinestor could see a force of bonereapers appearing from around a cliff, trampling all over their carefully prepared ritual sites. It seems the Ossiarchs liked to play safe and always have an ace up their sleeve.
“Cursed shadow of Nehnaxiir! There are more of them! Move!”
The Inquisitor signalled a turnabout, leaving behind the shattered form of Vokmortian. And his intact soulstone, half-buried in the broken carcass.
“This is going to take longer than we thought, Zindimir. We are surrounded now. Take what you can, no matter we can’t finish. You must know enough by now for us to put to use. I don’t know how much longer I can give you, but we are also fighting against a pincer movement. So make good use of your time.” the Inquisitor now considered a slow retreat, to break through the blockade.
“I will try for as long as I can, sir. Give the signal when. Until then, any minute helps.”
———
The Inquisition of Umberspire reaches a drawn-out stalemate against the Lazardwarkos army, disgorged out of the worm.
pictures: https://twitter.com/WH_Narratives/status/1443065114962370562?s=20
The Inqusition of Umberspire: https://thegreatweave.com/the-inquisition-of-umberspire/