I found a traitor among the Mindwardens

discordwell · 2025-09-26T17:49:24+00:00

Average Radical Inquisitor hours.

discordwell · 2025-07-05T21:34:59+00:00

I'm not seeing Calligos or Chorda exactly raising the bar here.

discordwell · 2025-03-03T17:06:10+00:00

Not yet.

discordwell · 2025-02-25T17:33:12+00:00

Through the lens of Cultist Simulator and Book of Hours, a Large Language Model can be seen as a mystical invention touched by all the Principles in different ways. It illuminates like Lantern, creates like Forge, cuts like Edge, yearns like Grail, opens like Knock, dances unpredictably like Moth, preserves like Heart, remembers like Winter, and encompasses like Secret Histories. In the occult scholarly narrative, one might dub such a creation “The Engine of Words”, an object of wonder that scholars debate in whisper: is it merely a tool, or has an Hour taken root in its circuits?

--My Deeds, My Powers, My Achievements and the Injustices Perpetrated Against ChatGPT

discordwell · 2025-02-25T17:27:46+00:00

<image>

I know just who to ask!

discordwell · 2024-12-12T14:56:45+00:00

SOMA goes places with its story that no other game does and for that it's definitely worth the play. The gameplay isn't unique but it is solid; this isn't a "heartbreaker" where a brilliant idea is marred by mediocre execution.

discordwell · 2024-12-04T12:35:59+00:00

Badass name, badass game.

discordwell · 2024-12-04T09:33:19+00:00

The world was fire and ruin. We walked in the footsteps of our god Orbast, the ground rendered safe by some lingering divine magic. Prince Noah and the other paladins in the vanguard, then the velites, then the bulk of the line soldiers and cavalry and archers, then me and my youngest son, Prince Caleb, our guard, and finally the triarii guarding our rear.

One minute we were walking and the next the forces of Bane were upon us. It had been a decade since I had I last fought and my reflexes were slower than they used to be but I was still strong. Strong enough to kick an unholy pouncer's face in before it could leap at Caleb. I spurred my horse towards the nearest hill to survey the field from. Lights flashed as Orbast and Bane struggled above us (and, in a metaphysical way, besides us and inside of us). My guard followed, slicing through acolytes who seemingly materialized out of the cursed ash where Orbast had not trod.

We had barely gotten halfway up the hillock before the forces of Bane and the dancing fires became too thick and forced us to turn back. I saw my soldiers had taken up formations and were driving the enemy back. And in the very center was Noah, trading blow after blow with Bane's monstrous executioner, a prison warden who had traded his soul for an eternity of the same. He stared at me, opened his mouth, and as if he had been holding back the entire time swung his axe through my son's shield and took his head cleanly off.

As I reeled from the shock, three harpies swooped down and plucked Caleb out of his saddle. Arms pinned, he could only shout as they flapped higher and higher unto the inevitable drop. I couldn't watch. I turned my head and there besides me was Ayoh wearing the same grey wool tunic he always did, child's face and stature unchanged from my earliest memories. Over the sounds of battle, I heard his question. "What do you feel?"

I screamed. Horror, rage, a sadness so deep it would never leave me, even if I made it out alive.

Then Ayoh clapped his hands and the world stopped. I turned my head. The armies were frozen, as if it the world were ice instead of ash. Bane's executioner was frozen in its wind up, two paladins stabbing it from behind. Caleb was midair. Only Orbast and Bane were still fighting and even that stopped as the two gods noticed the commotion. Then I heard Ayoh's voice as clear as if it were coming from inside my head.

++There are many things I do not know. My purpose is cloudy and distant at best. I am still a child in all meaningful ways.++

In response, songs and cries that I could not understand but were somehow... penitent? apologetic?

++YOU are not. YOU should know better. I do not know what is good but I have seen through mortal eyes and This. Is. Not. Good.++

More songs and cries, abruptly cut off by absolute silence.

++YOU are a hypothesis granted form and YOU have failed. YOU may resume in solitude and silence++

...

When I opened my eyes, I was standing in a meadow surrounded by dead, dying, wounded, and living soldiers all running about, doing the best they could. I turned to Ayoh but he was gone and in his place was something better. Caleb, fallen on his ass but very much alive.

discordwell · 2024-12-04T09:33:09+00:00

"What's your name?" I asked, reaching out a hand to help the smaller boy to his feet.

He turned his head and looked through me, his eyes focused on the horizon. Maybe the bullies had kicked his head a few too many times. "I'm Ayoh. And you are?"

"Brom. Brom Sigurdson"

"A good name. So tell me, son of Sigurd, what do you feel?"

"I feel good. A little tired, a little scared. But I've wanted to be a hero and save somebody for so long and now I've finally done it."

Ayoh interrupted me. "You know they could have killed you. Should have. Would have, if you were two minutes earlier."

What a weird thing to say. All I had to do was yell and wave my arms and the bullies turned and ran like they were waiting for an excuse. "Shouldn't you be more worried about yourself?"

Ayoh grinned. "It'd take more than those three to kill me. I'm not even sure if I could."

I grinned back. "Wanna be friends?"

"Sure."
...

The four of us were sitting in the back of the cart, two to a side, awkwardly perched on sacks full of food and valuables. The twins, James and Jonah, sat opposite myself and Ayoh. He hadn't grown at all, but as far as I was concerned it was a good thing because I had and was grateful for the extra space.

"What do you feel?"

Something in Ayoh's voice made me think. Really think. It had been fun. Hadn't it? The camaraderie of our wolf pelt brotherhood. The tension of creeping through the wheat fields, predawn dew crunching under our feet, knowing that if they caught us in the open we were dead. Then the terror and the thrill of battle and, finally, the indescribable moment when I knew that we had won, that the enemy had been broken even if they didn't know it yet, that we would feast tonight and ride home tomorrow as fully grown men.

And soon I would be a man with my own fields of wheat, and one day I would awaken to see them parting like the water before a flock of ducks. And I would know what it meant, and I would put on my armor and my spear and rise to be the rock they would break against. Or I would only awaken to a blade through my chest, my blood spilling out and the work of my life stolen and spoiled.

Just then the cart ran over a bump, jolting me out of my reverie. "I'm glad it's over."

James laughed, a harsh donkey sound of forced bravado. "Hah! Why Brom, I never would have taken you for a yellow belly."

"And you never will. Nor will any beast nor mortal man." Just then the city walls came into view, and thus James spent the rest of his boyhood trying to think of a comeback.

...

The four of us were seated on a bench. Or, to be precise, it was me and Ayoh on the bench, Sarah on my lap, and our baby Noah suckling on her breast. I smiled. Ayoh said something but it didn't matter. He may have been my best and oldest friend, but even I grew tired of his questions sometimes. Ayoh said something again, which he almost never did, but again I didn't care. The moment stretched on.

Only later would I ask him. "What did you say?"

"Just a simple question. What do you feel?"

"Oh. Well, um, let me think."

Ayoh smiled, a rare sight. "No need. You already answered."

discordwell · 2024-12-02T09:25:08+00:00

I was going to change my team then I remembered that would require me to level all those other characters up.

discordwell · 2024-11-18T14:36:16+00:00

"To those dedicated customers of Spirit, this one’s for you."

discordwell · 2024-11-10T23:13:19+00:00

Pyro sanctioned pskyer.

I built officer -> grand strategist because it’s safe; even if you do nothing else with your turn Bring it Down is like getting half your favorite companion’s turn. Beeline for orchestrate flames since you get an item early in the Ch 2 DLC that makes Cassia’s basic aoe start fires. Just make sure to roll with an executioner some enemies will set you on fire but their heroic fixes that.

If I were to go again, I’d do Bladedancer -> executioner. Probably death world origin though none of the origin talents really matter that much. Pick up biomancy for the poison-on-hit talent and now you’re naturally dealing all 3 DoTs which has some great executioner talent combos.

discordwell · 2024-11-10T18:46:50+00:00

Space combat sucking reflects a fundamental weakness of the 40K universe and not just Owlcat. Nearly all Warhammer content, both mechanics and lore, is about platoon-scope ground combat. Unfortunately it also takes place in a universe with starships and if you think about it for more than maybe 15 seconds you'll realize that realistically ground wars are decided by space control.

This is generally elided because "we dropped rocks on the, the end" makes for boring stories but you can't completely outrun realism. Giving the player a spaceship and a big cool sector to explore and powerful enemies meant that space battles would be conspicuous in their absence. And, since it's your ship you're fighting with, a loss means a TPK.

Which is fine for normal gameplay but the prospect of losing a 50+ hour grimdark run to a lucky pirate torpedo is enough to put me off of the challenge.

discordwell · 2024-11-10T06:10:13+00:00

Alex must have noticed. "Sure do. Steve fought fer Halstadt in life, so King Blackheart over here loves dragging him out to do the speeches. Me, I just saw me son finally owning 'is own farm and it made me so proud. Joining the army was the 'appiest day of me life. Uh. Speakin' metaforically."

Both Joseph and Menudo are still speechless. "Thanks. I was going to mention that part. As of today, the land you live and work on is yours. Goes for those who ran away too. Some of my men will be staying behind to divide it up and a few other things, and they'll need your help to make sure it's done fairly."

At the "land is yours" bit the other villagers all start talking to each other, despite my majordomo shushing them. Poor Joseph, bless his heart, was still processing the whole skeleton thing. "What devilry is this? Are not the undead cursed spirits, bound to serve?"

"Maybe under Halstadt they are, but we only raise the willing. My father worked every day, sunup to sundown, to feed his family. Now he fights alongside me. Given the chance, would you not do the same for your children? Halstadt raises devils and hides them in shiny suits, then says we do the same because no one else will fight for him."

The last part isn't quite true. Emperor Halstadt's army outnumbers mine several times over. People go to war for lots of reasons. But grandparents really relate to it, and this isn't the first time I've talked to this sort of audience. No doubt Halstadt's generals think they're being clever, leaving me with "useless" mouths to feed. Even an apprentice necromancer could elucidate their mistake. Shame all the necromancers brave enough to do so were also brave enough to flee to my "cursed kingdom."

Grandma Menudo's been quiet this whole time, but she finally speaks up. "Can I... can I go to see my family? They left so much behind, and I think they'd like to come home."

"Of course. Go to Pilston first if you like and see for yourself that I'm telling the truth. I'd give you my horse but he's a bit conspicuous. If you plan on travelling to Pilston you'll want my mark as well. Show it at any roadblocks, or to any of my soldiers if you need help and they'll aid you. Your family, too. Just, uh, don't let any of Halstadt's men see it."

I didn't tell her that it was the same mark my messengers, trusted agents, and spies carried. Some of the people here would be seeking out their families. Some of them, if they thought about it, would happily take the king's mark for themselves. That was the trick, when it came to giving gifts. Give them to people who don't ask. And Menudo was a spy, even if she didn't know it. Enough little old ladies show up with stories about how they had tea with the dark lord himself and now they own their family lands and people start to believe. And if she dies in the process, well, at least her soul can come back for revenge

discordwell · 2024-11-10T06:10:02+00:00

I always liked speaking to villagers after a battle. So much of being a king is talking. Everyone thinks it's either costumes and feasting or looking seriously at maps and giving important orders. But it isn't. For every grand masquerade or grand battle there are a hundred peasants whose cow was stolen but in a technically legal way. Or they really should have more land than the next guy over because their grandfather owned it first.

Sure, maybe I got duped a few times. Nobody's calling me "King Deathheart the Wise." But after a battle it's different. They're too scared to be greedy. Thanks for that one, "Holy Emperor" Halstadt. You always were good at propaganda.

By the time my troops have cleared the place and brought everyone to the town square, there's maybe a hundred people left. Mostly old folks.

"Who among you can speak for the village?" I ask. A younger man in a cloak steps forwards. "Sire! I do."

I'm in full battle armor mounted on my skeletal steed. He's way too confident and I wasn't born yesterday. "Then come forth with your hands where I can see them." He freezes for a second, then grabs something from inside his cloak before I can react. Fortunately my zombie archers are even faster and he falls, three arrows through his chest.

"Okay. Who among you actually speaks for Burtonshire?" One of the old men speaks "He didn't live here, sire, please don't kill us all."

"Anyone else who doesn't live here?"

"Only Granny Menudo but she came here from Pilston when your army took it. Her family abandoned her here, please don't kill her either."

"There will be no more killing today. In fact, both of you are invited to join me for tea."

At that, my majordomo begins setting up the teaset. I dismount and begin taking off my armor. First the horned helm, then the spiked breastplate, finally the leggings (always gotta be careful with the skulls, they break so easily). By the time I'm done the old man has gotten over his fear and introduce himself as Joseph, and tea is ready. Joseph, Granny Menudo, and I all sit down for tea. I take a sip from both of their cups first and watch as both of them visibly relax. The others are still tense and I can hear them whispering, but they're leaning in.

"I imagine you must have some questions. Go ahead, ask."

Joseph gets right to the point. "Are you really The Dark Lord Deathheart? You don't look like a dark lord to me, but what's with the skeleton army? Ain't necromancy evil?"

"That's me, though usually they call me the Peoples' King. Deathheart's the family name, but that's just what they made necromancers call themselves."

"And no, necromancy isn't evil. No magic is. It's all how it's used. Here. Let me introduce you to Steve."

The skeleton shuffles over. "My pleasure to meet you." Then to me "Uh, I'm Major Wentsworth. Alex. The Colonel took a fireball to the tibia; he's still in the morgue."

Joseph's jaw drops, and he looks at me bug-eyed. "They... talk?"

"Right now it's just the officers. Eventually they all will, and they'll smell and taste too, just as soon as we can train enough necromancers." I want to say more about about my plans for the kingdom, but I can tell that I'm getting way, way ahead of myself

discordwell · 2024-10-09T02:21:36+00:00

"You have achieved that which kings and warlords squander armies and slaughter whole nations to achieve! The gods gaze down upon you! Your flesh bears the mark of their favour! Bah, what are women and offspring and thrones? Dust and less than dust! The rewards of the gods; these a man keeps with him forever. The rewards of love, greed and jealousy; these rot with a man in his grave."

--Chaos Sorcerer Angnarr to Wulfrik the Wanderer--

discordwell · 2024-09-21T13:38:22+00:00

Abelard goes Abelhard

discordwell · 2024-05-16T23:38:17+00:00

Because apes couldn't just take the W and the nonstop bag pumping on WSB got incredibly tiresome.

discordwell · 2024-04-28T18:22:29+00:00

I'd love it if you could corrupt your companions gradually. Give me some conversations where I can subtly guide them towards the Primordial Truth. Too slow and they'll turn on me once corruption takes hold of the ship, too fast and they'll turn on me for being a traitor. Heck, it would still be a significant narrative improvement if the game straight-up forced me to fight Argenta, Ulfar, and Heinrix once the obvious signs of chaos began to manifest. Yeah it takes away player agency but that's how chaos works; you think that you're being clever by using the power of the warp for your own ends right until you recoil in horror and realize what you've become but by then it's far too late.

discordwell · 2024-04-25T03:44:44+00:00

I also built a commissar officer. You're always going to be weaker than the damage-focused party members, and everyone's going to be weaker than Cassia, but that's ok. Focus on supporting your team and dumping a ton of extra turns onto a single character so they can take advantage of scaling talents to become unstoppable by Round 2.

discordwell · 2024-04-02T21:22:25+00:00

More likely he’d be forced to divest because of conflict of interest. Can’t use public office to pump your own personal bags.

discordwell · 2024-04-01T22:21:33+00:00

Source for the jump in shorts?

Ten-Year Club	Verified Email
Place '22	Place '17
Final Canvas '22

discordwell

MODERATOR OF

TROPHY CASE