The Crusaders are expecting to use particular ley-lines that focus on the moving worm. Unfortunately, these lines are still connected to the worms old home and are being stretched beyond recognition. For those the delve deep into the arcane arts this could either be something to take advantage of (if at all possible), or something terrible if their enemies are able to control the flow of magic.
As the lines now converge with those that focus on Nassolotyl, a massive amount of magic is being funnelled through the worm itself, creating a sort of moving dam with the pressure rising by the hour. Those that wish to control these winds of magic better work quickly, as this damn will break soon, resulting in a cataclysmic amount of energy to flow throughout the region.
The Great Rift
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.
This Quest will have a massive impact on what the local area looks like in the future, and the alliance that gains control of the leyline disturbance will have full control over the magics that are caught up at the head of the worm.
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…
Each alliance could use the magic differently. The forces of Order may use it to create a Realmgate back to Nassolotyl to keep their connection to their parent city intact. The forces of Chaos or Death could cause a rift in the very fabric of magic above the worm, allowing Sigmar-knows what through. The forces of Destruction may just use it to cause the worm to go into a frenzy, destroying even more than it would naturally.
That said, you'll need to control the magic well to do what you want with it...
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!
Hogrog Ug Weirdklaw could feel the power flowing through the Great Wurm, even from here. The ley-lines of magical energies that converged on the Wurm were out of alignment and unstable. The city gitz had no idea what they were playing with!
The Badfangs watched approvingly as he rummaged through the tribe’s collection of powerful beats-bones, searching for two or three that felt right, that resonated with the same energy. As he searched he threw rejects around the temporary camp.
He found some that seemed like good candidates and held each one against his Wurrgog mask in turn. The ones that harmonised with the Wurm’s power went into a bag.
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The Badfangs set out along the top of a line of ruins that Hogrog had picked out as the best spots – focal points at the crossings of the wurm-lines with Neolotl’s ley-lines. They had to hurry though, the wurm-lines were moving fast.
They ran along the stonework, leaping over the gaps between buildings.
Some local Freeguilders spotted them and started shooting! Bullets zinged past them and ricocheted off the stones.
A few shots clipped the orruks as they ran. They didn’t pay it much attention.
Hogrog and Snaggatoof reached the first wurm-line intersection. Hogrog took one of the beast-bones and jammed it into a crack between the stones.
The Freeguilder’s fire increased as the Badfangs got closer. A Freeguild Champion positioned herself in the way of the Badfangs – Snaggatoof barrelled into her, expecting to brush her aside. He was not going to get the outcome he bargained-for.
More Freeguild handgunners arrived and the Morboys started taking fire. They were less than impressed.
Boss Ersatz and a couple of Morboyz caught up with Hogrog.
Snaggatoof’s claws slashed time and again, the Freeguild Champion dodged and skilfully counter-attacked with parry and repost. She used the big orruk’s momentum against him… and sent him tumbling off the wall!
Boss Ersatz saw what happened and learned from Snaggatooth’s mistakes.
Noknok the drummer jumped off the wall and sprinted at the Freeguild General.
Zurgob and Boss Ersatz ganged up on the Champion while Hogrog completed his ritual at the second wurm-line crossing point.
The Wurrgog Prophet realised time was running out: The Badfangs had to hurry.
Ersatz didn’t smash into the Champion with blind fury as Snaggatoof had; he drew her into over-reaching her attacks and swept he legs out from under her. Zurgob smashed his stone axe down.
Noknok was no match for the Freeguild General.
With the second magic beast-bone jammed into place. The atmosphere changed – air was filled with crackling static, small stones started bouncing around on the ground.
Light flooded the battlefield as the magically charged bones started to interfere with the wurm-lines. White lightning arced between them and straight up into the air.
As the magical backlash they unleashed started tearing the stones of the ruins apart, the Badfangs fled the scene, Hogrog cackled with glee…
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https://warbosskurgan.blogspot.com/2021/09/the-badfangs-bonesplitterz-of-ghur-part_20.html
The Amber Magistrix Raedheil’s aelves and their newly acquired Vurm-tai auxiliaries were now escorting to her crucial appointed mission at the Leylines was a curious sort. Sylvene Lyonaver spoke little and smiled less. She was slender and frail looking for a daughter of Ghur, seemingly bereft of much humour or spirit, but the Phantasms had the Fauncrest’s word their charge was, for all her apparent shyness, one of the most powerful battlemages Nasson had ever seen. Only around Farleith, Raedheil’s Wanderer beastmistress ally, and her remaining familiar, the huge mist-grey panther, did the Magistrix look more relaxed.
After the ‘negotiations’ had come and gone, the Phantasms expected to face the unquiet dead, and especially the spirits of Umberspire, but their swift and precise journey to the spot Sylvene had chosen was interrupted in the end only just before it had concluded. Just as in their last skirmish, the figures that barred their path seemed human. Odder still, as the aelven scouts neared the challengers looked and sounded familiar. Freeguild of Excelsis!
‘Raedheil Shorehaunter,’ their commander called out, hatred and contempt suppurating his harsh voice. ‘We have sought and found you and your recreant followers, and now we shall bring you to justice, for treason to the city you once presumed to call home.’
As Raedheil himself stepped forward to remonstrate and smooth out this misunderstanding, Sylvene for the first time addressed him directly. ‘Look at your old city friends closer. They are lost indeed.’ The aelven captain did as the mage bid, and found that it was so. There was worse than hatred in the humans’ eyes, there was purity of obsession, and the tattered scholar in the subverted insignia of a battlemage among them was beginning the rudiments of what was recognisably a daemonic invocation.
So it was that aelves and Vurm-tai skirmished with renegade Freeguild, as Amber mage and fallen sorcerer struggled to grasp control over the Leylines. The humans seemed still unaware of their own malaise, shouting the war cries of Excelsis, and though another name came upon them when they shouted for Sigmar, they themselves seemed unaware of it. ‘Slaanesh, the God-King! Slaanesh, the Thunderer! Slaanesh, the All High!’ The devout Vurm-tai of Zig-mah looked particularly disturbed by this peculiarity.
The aelven Phantasms were superior in skill by far to the cultists, but Raedheil himself showed a fatal fury and disdain that carried him ahead of his friends and kin, before he vanished amid a knot of foes. Farleith the Beastmistress and Sylvene rallied the Phantasms despite their leader’s fall, Sylvene assuming a black lioness form and driving the sorcerer from the leyline.
After the broken lands’ powers were safely bound for the good of the City, though, the cultists led a determined, spiteful and vicious counterattack. Many aelves fell, a Shadow Warrior, the Wanderer Feast-Master, and the parti-coloured Glade Guard who had guided the Kharadron all slain outright, and the last wave of Slaaneshis overwhelmed and seized the wearied Sylvene, before fleeing the bloodied scene.
As Hysh waned the Leyline was in Nasson’s hands, but the Phantasms’ charge was taken and the band itself was crippled, leaderless and bickering. Raedheil’s mantle was claimed by four candidates, the Beastmistress, the Scourge captain, the Assassin, and Aratheln the Ranger. To the horror and frustration of the Vurm-tai it looked as if the matter would be settled by blows, until an aelven sword taller and haughtier than any other called them to order. Raedheil was returned to them
‘Comrades. I know where they are taking Lyonaver. We won Fauncrest her leyline, we shall not lose her her mage yet. Follow me!’
“What is we doing here?”
The question was asked with a rebellious undertone, which made Old Viggo cuff the other Mega-Gargant over the head.
“Shut it, Drabb!” he shouted. The other brute went more or less quiet, grumbling to himself.
The truth was, even Old Viggo did not know why they were here. After the fight against the Duardin that had been defending Neolotl’s forges the Tidebreaker had almost instantly gathered up his Stomp and led them away from the city’s center of industry, towards were the great worm was passing between the two godbeasts. It was like a tugging at his mind. Not like the primal call that had drawn him away from his beloved Coast of Storms. No, this was something different. More insistent. And it had something to do with the glowy lantern that hung from Old Viggo’s right ear. When he had first plucked the thing from the wreck of an Aelven ship he had put it there just because it looked shiny. But over the years he had realized that there was something strange about the lantern. Something… magic. He had no idea how it worked, but it did. Not always, but some times enemies he REALLY wanted gone were struck by an invisible force. Or blows that should by all rights pierce his hide just bounced off.
“There is somethin’ here. Somethin’ important,” the ancient Mega-Gargant muttered. Before he could further muse about the strange situation however a massive bolt of lightning shot from the sky, impacting less than a hundred paces from the Gargants. It was immediately followed by a further bolts, a barrage of lightning that grew so intense, eventually even Old Viggo had to avert his eyes. When the Gargants were able to look again an army of Stormcast Eternals were barring their way. Electricity was still dancing around and over them even as they readied their weapons. Most of them were wielding implements of ranged death. Bows and crossbows, so large a mere mortal would not have been able to even lift them. Gryph-hounds clawed at the ground, their beaks clicking. And above them all the leader of this host rose to stand in his saddle.
For several long moments Otavius regarded his foes. They looked surprised. Some of them even dazed. Well, he could not blame them for that. Few ever expected an entire force of his kind to suddenly arrive before them, even though the stories about such a thing happening had spread far and wide, even in this primitive realm. Admittedly, it rarely happened in the middle of a city. But there was little left in Neolotl that their arrival through the storm could damage.
“They aren’t nearly as big as Torian made them out to be,” he eventually announced. “What do you think, Cairax?” Underneath him the huge Stardrake shook itself lightly, just barely not enough to throw Otavius off, and let out a snort that he recognized as a sound of derision. “Exactly,” the Drakesworn Templar said. He thrust his Stormlance high into the air and shouted “My friends! These brutes have accrued a heavy debt in blood. And we are here to collect! Let us show them what it means to defy the will of Sigmar!”
“For Sigmar!” his warriors shouted in reply.
As if to make sure they were not outdone the Gargants too replied, with bellows of their own. And although theirs was a simply noise for noise’s sake, it was a good deal louder. Otavius thrust his lance back into its scabbard and drew his Skybolt Bow. Despite his disdain for the Ghuran monsters, he was no fool. And Torian had warned them of the might of these Gargants. To face them in melee was near suicide. Taking them down at a range, that was the key.
“Steady, Hammers of Sigmar!” he shouted. “Aim carefully and Sigmar will make your arrows fly true. Fire!” All across the Stormcast Eternals’ battleline Longstrike Crossbows, Skybolt Bows and Hurricane Crossbows sent bolts and arrows into the charging Gargants.
Old Viggo was quite happy. It turned out the little trinket on his ear had led them right into another army of shiney-boys. And if they wanted a rematch, the Tidebreaker was only too happy to oblige. However, even he could not have guessed the sheer amount of firepower the Stormcasts could bring to bear. Within seconds countless bolts pierced his skin. Each of them was little more than a pinprick, but in these numbers even those could bring down someone like him. As he saw the storm-empowered humans ready a second volley he threw up his arms. The lantern hanging from his ear suddenly grew hot. A magical shield sprung into life, protecting the Kraken-Eater. However, at the same time lances of energy ripped through his head. Everything before his eyes grew blindingly white, and then black. Unbeknownst to Old Viggo himself the enchanted artifact he was wearing as an earring was drawn to the build-up of magic that the overstretched ley-lines had caused. And this close to so much magic the suddenly and crudely cast spell triggered a powerful magical feedback, which hit him like a Gargant-sized fist on the side of the head.
With an earth-shaking thud the old Mega-Gargant crashed to the ground. But if the other Gargants noticed the sudden loss of their leader they did not show it. Once something like a Stomp really got moving it was difficult for it to stop, no matter the reason. The Mancrushers charged into the gryph-hounds, who were spread out before the firelines of Stormcast Eternals. It was the animal’s duty to protect the warriors. And although they did not last long, it was enough to allow them another volley or two. Drabb Cannon-Chucker smashed into a unit of Vanguard-Raptors who had moved up closer to get their Hurricane Crossbows into optimal range. Unfortunately they had underestimated the speed at which a Mega-Gargant could move and paid dearly for that mistake.
Although the disciplined volleys took their toll on the Gargants, they slowly but surely ground the Stormcast Eternals into the dust. Eventually Otavius himself, who had hung back to better direct his forces, had to join the fray. With his lance back in hand and Cairax roaring fiercely they met the charging Mega-Gargant. Celestally charged claws and teeth met Drabb’s flail and brute strength. The heavy figurehead smashed into the Stardrake’s side, snapping one of his wings. The great breast was barely slowed down though, raking and biting the enemy. After a few moments of struggle the Gargant managed to get an arm around Cairax’s neck and started squeezing.
“Oh no you don’t!” Otavius shouted and stabbed his Stormlance into Drabb’s shoulder. The weapon had been made kill monsters, and it easily sunk into the hardened flesh. The Mega-Gargant howled with pain, but refused to let go. With its rider’s help however the Stardrake slowly forced his monstrous opponent back. “Bring him down!” the Templar encouraged his gigantic mount, helping with further stabs of his lance. Eventually they managed to throw Drabb onto his back and immediately the Stardrake was on top of him, mauling the Gargant savagely. Otavius breathed a sigh of relief. And immediately regretted it.
Distracted by their duel with the Mega-Gargant neither the Templar not his mount had noticed the group of Mancrushers who had finally stomped the remaining Vanguard-Raptors into the ground and now charged the largest opponent left. Pegleg Kraggi had long ago lost his left hand and replaced it with an anchor, taken from an Aelven corsair ship. That was what he hand slammed into the Drakesworn Templars chest, throwing him off his mount and against the the ruin of a building. Then he and another Gargant called Nodge the Thinker started to kick, punch and even headbutt the Stardrake. The beast fought back, of course, but entangled with Drabb as it was and with one of its great wings already broken it stood little chance. Eventually it gave a final, pained roar before it dissolved and returned to the stars with a flash of lightning, much like the shiney-boys usually did.
They were battered and bruised, but the Gargants had won again. It took them several minutes before they noticed that their leader, Old Viggo, was not among them but lying on the ground, several paces back.
“Oi…? Boss?” one of them said as they slowly approached. Could it really be that Old Viggo, the Tidebreaker, had finally met his end? As one of the Mancrushers was about to touch the large body though Old Viggo suddenly sat up. The lantern at his right ear glowed brightly and for a moment sparks flew from his eyes.
“Is… is you alright?”
“Shut it!” Old Viggo shouted as he slowly, laboriously got back to his feet. “I know why we’re here now. There is magic here. Lots of it. And we can’t let the humies or anyone else get it!”
(Sons of Behemat were victorious against Stormcast Eternals)
Lord Calaec of the Ley-Finders reporting back to the Living City.
After dispatching of a force of Grots that were attempting to infest the Worm, Willow-Baroness Adalanthel led us to a key point in the disrupted ley-lines where the energy was reaching destructive levels and needed our expert hand to be controlled and channeled.
As we neared the site, we found ourselves face to face with the forces of the Umberspire Inquisition, who carried their own sinister plans for taking control of the ley-lines. Inquisitor Sinestor is an experienced general, so we knew that defeating his forces would not be easy.
Sinestor led his main force to keep hold of two key points on the ley-lines, as he send his Ghost Vessel and Knights to try and flank us. As my Dryad forces suffered the brunt of the Ghost Ship’s attacks, I ordered Glade Lady Alaelnith Vahy to ride her Forest Dragon to our right flank to support them. Glade Lord Dharnialas Alalvon rode his Pegasus to the left flank to take on the Knights, as I sent our Tenebrael Shard Yacyth to take out the support units that Sinestor kept hidden in his back lines.
This left me with my honoured retinue of Wildwood Rangers, as well as my 10 finest archers led by High Sister Thelveth, to take on Sinestor’s main force. After the Sisters took out Sinestor’s monstrous Chained Shadow in one fell swoop, I decided that to overcome death we would have to stare it straight in its ghastly face. I led my Wildwood Rangers in a long charge that caught Sinestor by surprise and took out a significant part of his Elite Champions. Meanwhile, Glade Lady Vahy managed to take out the Ghost Ship with help of the Dryads, as Glade Lord Alalvon single-handedly sent the Knights back to their graves.
Although Sinestor’s forces did manage to take out my entire Wildwood Rangers retinue, he quickly realised his dire position, as Glade Lady Vahy encouraged her Dragon to take on his main force, with the Dryads close behind her, while the Sisters and Glade Lord Alalvon rained death from the skies. As Sinestor fled the battlefield, we placed our Way Stones, to stabilise these ley-lines for the forces of Order.
Rumours have reached me on the winds that Inquisitor Sinestor tried to scheme his way into controlling what he could not take from me by force. Luckily, my fellow council members saw straight through his ethereal self (OOC: pun intended), and his request to dislodge the Way Stones that we placed so carefully fell on deaf ears.
(Pictures: https://twitter.com/WH_Narratives/status/1440555946686570500?s=19&fbclid=IwAR0HliTC19zivzsFz7a70OUSjSvm_L3sWJpsT4VlK3UsyoG5pmW0sXCSFJA)
The Inquisition of Umberspire had finally found what it came to Ghur for: the wellspring of power welling up from the leyline convergence. A Rift of energies, thrown into alignment by the worm’s titanic impact on the landscape. Visions of the skeletal serpent of Nagash drew them here, and this is the phenomenom they came to study.
There, just a few miles ahead of the worm’s path, in the bow wave of the invisble energies that sent the air crackling and raised the hairs in the back of everyone’s neck, was the Rift. Even those without the witchsight could see its effects: the ground welled upwards in a circular pattern, and in the flat central plateau, surrounded by a luminous mist, was the largest concentration of raw realmstone that Keeper Zindimir had ever seen since setting foot in Ghur. The Keeper knew this was the place to capture the massive flow of energy and put it to use.
Drekazra and their allies had a plan already for how to use it… and the Inquisition was positioned early, right at the center…
Their ship, the Shifting Shrine, alighted to drop their arcane supplies and set on a holding pattern, while the Champions Unremembered escorted the Inquisitor and Zindimir to the Rift itself…
A fast-approaching roar soon signalled they would not be unchallenged: a force of aelf wanderers was closing in, straight to them. Zindimir’s rituals were not yet finished, with glimpses of the Serpent only revealing themselves one fragment at a time.
The Shifting Shrine quickly descended to eliminate the Sylvaneth platoon closing in on the Rift center, but was caught in a pincer movement by the swift forest dragon these aelves had brought. Meanwhile, the Inquisition’s knights faced against the approaching Nomad Lord and his armed Wanderers, in the very center of the swirling energies of the Rift. The realmstone outcroppings thrumming with the savage energies of Ghur feeding the frenzy of both forces.
As the forest dragon rent the ghost ship into pieces, it flew back quickly to land onto Sinestor’s main force, as an aelf assassin also closed in from the backlines to dirupt Zindimir’s ritual. The Chained Shadow was shot down by a hail of arcane arrows. These Wanderers came prepared to deal with them.
With their lines broken and in disarray, the Inquisition fell back, rage burning in their witchflame eyes.
“Place your little monuments then, nomads. Let’s see how long they will last.” mused Zindimir, and he slowly regained his shape from the aether. “We are not yet done with this place, and we have now seen the Serpent. We know its shape, and we know its name. Your attempts at containing this rift won’t save you. Others are already closing in on you. Let’s see if you can hold it down, muhahahaha!”
With a dramatish woosh of his ethereal ragged robes, the keeper urged the Inquisitor off towards the wastes, to regroup.
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The Inquisition of Umberspire: https://thegreatweave.com/the-inquisition-of-umberspire/
Battle pics: https://twitter.com/WH_Narratives/status/1440555946686570500?s=20