Fantasy ♥♦ ~ What Secrets Lie Ahead? ~ ♣♠

[LucasGhost]

Turn 2
The Spider Riders
Summer

-West of Banback Vale-
​

At the mouth of the tunnel Kergan Banback dismounted as he had done so hundreds of times before. Phane was getting on in her years, her leg lost to the battle with the Great Crawler in his youth doing her no favors. Yet, the two of them continued on together, indeed as they must until he was to fall in battle. It was a fact that steadily wore on his mind in greater amounts as the years passed. When he had passed his final test as a youth, his position as the defending duelist had been no more than a dream. But now he has begun to hear whispers that his son may try to take the crown. Kergan said, “Let him try,” yet despite his certainty it needled at the back of his mind.

He shakes his head to clear the thought, and gives Phane a soft pat to her side. There will be time to dwell on such things later. Kergan tells her to remain here with a few soft clicks and she happily settles to rest outside, pressed lightly against the wall of debris. In the future she will carry him down this path, he hopes, but for now the area is too unstable for her gait.

A few steps in he spots the crew assigned to begin the investigations into the rockslide. A small gathering stood peering into the gloom, only lit by the green flame torches they carry, a few steps before the newly emerged tunnel sweeps downward, steep and leading off to who knows where. They speak in quiet whispers but fall utterly silent at the sight of his approach, the large branching horns upon his head all the announcement of his title he needs, even in the poorly lit tunnel.

“Why has the scouting stopped here,” Kergan speaks plainly, not a question but a matter of demanding an answer to a fact. He had gotten the notice from the leader of the expedition, but the man had a tendency to soften the blow of failure at the cost of leaving out otherwise important details.

One of them, a woman with jagged spines running up her arms, steps forward with a small bow of her head. “It will be easier to explain if we douse the lights,” she seems to catch herself, hastily adding on, “With your permission?” Kergan gives her a nod, and one by one the green flames go out. Yet, the group is not bathed in darkness, rather, there is a soft glowing light coming from somewhere far, far down below.

They mumble amongst one another once again as Kergan considers the light in silence. It is only when he catches sound of one towards the back bringing up the name of The Ancient One does he lift a hand to silence them. “The Sacerdotes have not emerged in over a year. If this is a sign from The Ancient One it is one we must navigate ourselves. It will not be the first time in our history that we must trust in ourselves, nor will it be the last.”

Silence and grim faces in the dark, but even the most hopeful among them cannot deny such facts. Whatever happens, they must continue to forge the path. Kergan speaks, “Gather those mounts of strongest thread and have three riders investigate. One above and two below. If it is something we can bring up and into the light, then do so. We must learn if we are to continue to tread this path.”

With that he turns and heads back out of the fragile tunnel, the scouts left suddenly stumbling to see him off with the proper bow. Phane is waiting for him right where he left her, and as she uncurls with his approach it brings a small sense of relief to his heart.

---

“It’s Not Unknown…” Action 1: Lore. Research the strange glowing mushrooms found in the tunnels. Perhaps they can be safely cleared away or can be harvested for further use. (Lore +1.)

“If I’m Exploring It.” Action 2: Operations. Build. Begin to reinforce the main tunnel into the debris. It will be slow going, but a direct route to the winter outpost is too great an opportunity to pass up. (Operations +2.)

Aims: Create a safe route between the capital and their winter outpost.

 

[LadyOfStars]

The Archives

Turn 2


​

Failure. The turn of the century was marked by failure as a result of The Mother's hasty and singular thinking. "Disgraceful" The Crone's raspy voice scolded as she and The Maiden entered the council room in the palace, summoned to formulate the next steps of The Archives' plans.

The Crone entered with a scowl on her face, aimed at each and every person who'd been present during the last meeting. "Next time you propose meeting the council without us, remind me to laugh dear." Her tone was soft as if telling a joke, but as she walked pass her daughter she could she the grimace on her face, as if she'd been cut deep. "How many tutors did we lose?" She inquired as she slid into her seat and leaned her cane against the table.

"We are still waiting for confirmation, but we suspect...all that were sent are now dead." The Congress' Representative explained briefly.

A heavy sigh left The Crone's lips and she found herself shaking her head in disappointment, yet again. "And the university has yet to perfect the sending spell."

There was no shortage of bad news it seemed, a bad omen of how the rest of the season might turn out.

"Very well. Have the university continue their work with the spell. It will be paramount to avoiding future incidents like this one." The Crone instructed and although she'd only doubled down on what her daughter had ordered done, everyone seemed somewhat more confident in her. "And the Triumvirate will ensure this time that things succeed." She said with absolute certainty as she looked to her daughter and granddaughter.

"As for the Tutors, prepare their replacements and prepare to send them once we have discerned safe paths out of the library." The grandmother of The Archives knew what she would have to do, but could not share the information with those present. "Meeting adjourned." She concluded since no one seemed to have any objections. But as she grabbed her cane she paused and turned to the Mother.

"Perhaps you should focus on producing an heir rather than trying govern our people on your own my dear." The elderly woman dared to say before taking her leave.

---

Aim: Reach out to foreign realms and establish diplomatic ties.

Actions:

1. Lore (+2): Magic - The Crone will use The Archives' forbidden knowledge to aid the University in continuing work on the Sending Spell.
2. Operation(+1): Explore - The Crone will employ here covert agents to begin exploring the Library for whatever new threats might have taken out the Tutors.

 

[Trektek]

What Secrets Lie Ahead

The 13th Regiment

Turn 2

High Commander Reginald Barkley once again stroked his metal goatee as he looked over The Kitchen. The construction of THE FORT as a part of their GRAND HOME BASE was well underway. In fact, it was going quite swimmingly if he was to say anything about the matter. Lieutenant Samuel Simmons was overseeing the construction and he had the utmost faith in the man. They say he could build a tank using only a paperclip, some wrapping paper and a pop rocket. Not that he had seen it done of course, but that was the ongoing rumor.

He took out his pipe and placed it in one hand as he looked over the latest reports on the expedition into THE BASEMENT. It also currently seemed to be going swimmingly. Quite. Sergeant Dominick Ganders was heading up that exploratory corps, having earned his place from his distinguished records of resource collection and combat against THE RATS in minor skirmishes.

He was indeed pleased with how the 13th Regiment was performing as the well oiled machine that they were supposed to be. And he had faith that they would continue to do so for the betterment of the cause.

Eventually after the current expedition and the construction of THE FORT, he would have to send an envoy to the North to their Magical Fire Allies. After all, they would much prefer THE FLAMES to be on their side and not cause them to be melted.

—-------------------------------------------------

Lieutenant Samuel Simmons was a short man. By which, it was clear that when he was a toy, his legs were broken off and then remelted back together to make him whole again. So while he can move just as well as his compatriots, he was a couple centimeters shorter than the others. But that had not stopped him on this expedition so far.

Private Dunbar approached him as they had made it down one of the steps via their rope and saluted.

“Sir, we’ve heard rats in the walls. The boys and I think that maybe some of the Lost Brigade might have been absconded with by the nasty devils. What say you?”

Part of their expedition was indeed to track down at least one of the Lost Brigades, but was it wise to traipse off the main trail on the words of whimsy on the off chance that they could stumble upon them and fight an unknown amount of rats in the process?

Simmons spoke up. “No Private. Even if there was a chance of some of The Lost Brigades being in the walls, I am not yet certain to head into the walls and face an unknown amount of combatants in the process for a possibility. No, we shall continue on the tried and true, heading down into the basement on our mission.

Now, tell the men that there will be a 10 minute break and then we shall continue on the next leg.”

—--------------------------------------------

Sergeant Dominick Ganders liked to build things. It was something that as soon as they had become alive that he seemed to have an innate desire to do. So when he was approached to be in charge of the construction of THE FORT, he was ecstatic. This was his chance to not only show the 13th Brigade his construction chops, but their ally and potential enemies as well.

THE FORT would be a testament to the strength of the 13th Regiment and help assist them in fighting and protecting the HOUSE, their home and fulfilling THE CURSE.

He was in the process of installing a new wooden crossbar when he was approached by one of the workers.

“Sir, the men and I have been hearing strange music coming from the waves and want to try to investigate it!”

The High Commander wouldn’t like any delays in the building of THE FORT and neither would he. Such a task would put them far behind schedule in its construction.

“No. I need each and every one of you helping to build this structure so we can stay on the schedule put forth by the High Commander. He is expecting this to be all finished by the end of the year at the latest.

If we have to fight, we need a Fort to have both a more defensible position and a place to ready weapons.”

The man looks dejected by the rejection of the investigation. As though all the wind was taken out of his sails.

“Yes sir. I’ll have the men go back to work.”

—---------------------------------------


Action 1; Continue delving deeper for the expedition into The Basement in order to search for one of The Lost Regiments. (Lowers the DC)

Action 2: Continue to Build the Fort on a higher location to the Western Portion of 13th Regiment Land so that it can look over the GRAND HOME BASE. (Spend 3 Resources upfront to make a very STRONG and POWERFUL fort. Spend an additional 1 Resource this turn to give a +1 bonus to the roll)

 

[Cosmo]

The Empire of the Emerald Scale
Turn 2
​

'Weep, but do not despair. Pray, but do not plead. Rejoice, but do not forget.

Weep, for you will never have Her love, but do not despair as a mewling babe denied their mother's teet. Pray for Her gaze, but do not plead for our suffering is nothing before Her. Rejoice for the life She gives, but do not forget that our lives exist only in service to Her."
- High Priestess Neraei Milsha​

---

The throne room was large, as was only right, the ground smooth and carved stone with each panel showing the foundation and formation of their Great Empire. Of the toil and struggles of their ancestors. Pillars lined the room, each one with a great serpent curled around them both to represent how She Who Slithers surrounds their nation but also a reminder to all who came to this room that She was always there. Always watching. The roof was made of colored glass, painstakingly made with the colored stones {chalk} found within a small box. The light from the great Shed Window, of the light that came through the holes, illuminated the throne room in a dazzling display of colors, often appearing like mini-colored scales stretched out across the ground, walls and pillars. It was the only place suitable to house the Empress. At the end of the hall sat the throne, a large throne had two great serpent heads upon the armrest that manicured nails were tapping on with great impatience as the Empress Alalenai Ssustu listened to the report. Her tapping slowing or growing with her pleasure and displeasure.

The news about something 'shiny' under the wood was vague. It could be a trap, it could be nothing and worthless, as the messenger droned on, the Empress rolled it around in her head. Putting off the gathering of wood would slow down the gathering for the season, and if there was some sort of creature down there, protecting its hoard, or perhaps the hoard itself, she could even lose the workers which would hardly be that great of loss. As the woman weighed the decision in her mind, she found the potential gains to be worth the potential loss, "Send in some soldiers to secure the location and the workers in next to gather whatever it is and bring it to the surface so that it may be evaluated for its use to the Empire," Alalenai spoke, her voice was cold like the frosted glass of winter, but held all the strength of iron as it carried through the hall bringing the messenger to a sputtering stop.

"I-yes, Your Majesty, it shall be done," the messenger said as she took a small bow before rising again and flipping the page over to continue her report.

The next report caused the air in the throne room to grow cold, as the thin line of the Empresses lips became a small, cold smile, her eyes frosty as her nails gripped the serpent heads upon her throne. 'Do all agree'? There was no 'all'. There was only the Empress. Their foremen spoke with her voice, her architects and planners, spoke with her authority and they were daring to question? They feared some nonsensical curse more then they feared her? They dared to doubt her orders? The snake did not chase after the whispers of rats to separate whom was prey, it merely devoured them all.

The messenger was not immune to the shift of the mood as their knuckles were white upon the paper and her voice mumbled and broke at particularly dangerous lines, she kept the paper up, blocking her face, as if that would escape the icy glare of the Empress...

"Have I.. gone soft?" Alalenai said as she lifted one of her hands, turning it back and forth as if taking its measure, "Have I truly grown so lax in the last seasons that these males whose only job is to toil and obey have forgotten their place? Have I somehow made it seem like it was okay to question? To disobey? To undermine? Answer me."

"N-No! You're Majesty!" the messenger said as their terrified voice was followed by a loud clack as the scroll fell from her hands.

"And yet they still seek to do this? Well, something must be amiss, if I have not grown soft then there are simply some lowly workers that have forgotten their place, what should we do with them?" Alalenai said as she leaned back in her throne and slid one leg over the other.

"M-Me? Are you asking me, Your Majesty?" the messenger said, her eyes wide as she placed a palm on her chest to confirm. The Empress held her icy glare and gave a single nod.

"W-Well, you should investigate and fin-" her voice was cut short as the Empress raised a hand, "No, I think not."

"N-No, Your Majesty?" the messenger said as she gazed around the hall, at the guards lined up, their spears pointed to the roof as they stood ready.

"No. Investigate? They are mine. If your beast tries to bite your hand, you do not 'investigate'. You put it down. When a scale is damaged, it is plucked out. The other workers? They stood by as their fellows spread such rumors, as they spoke out against me.. How can a faithful subject simply stand by as their Empress is slandered in such a way? No, they are all damages scales suitable only to be plucked out.." Alalenai said as her hand gently plucked at thin air as if she was, even now, taking them apart.

"B-But-" the messenger started but caught herself as the icy glare of the Empress returned.

"Why are you so concerned? They're only males. They cannot bring life into this world. They are not blessed by She Who Slithers. They have a singular use and they are already failing to uphold that," the Empress rose from her throne and stepped towards the messenger, each step sending loud echoes through the hall as she leaned close to whisper into the messengers ear, "Sacrificing a hundred males to secure a thousand? Is it not a bargain deal?"


A shiver ran down the messengers spine as she nodded, "Y-Yes, Your Majesty."

"Good girl, now go and tell the High Priestess that I have need of her, she will be the instrument of my wrath.. Oh, and what is your name, my dear?" the empress said as she reached out to cup the messenger's chin, the nail of her thumb piercing her flesh as a bead of blood rolled down it to drip on the floor.

"Nadyia, Your Majesty," Nadyia whispered.

"Nadyia. Go, fetch the High Priestess, and serve the Empire."
​

---

Actions
1. Workers will descend into the hole in the floor to gather up whatever the shiny thing is! Some soldiers will be deployed to protect them as they unearth it. [Pursuing Secret] [Operations +2]

2. All the tower workers shall be gathered and led by soldiers and the sisterhood to stand before She Who Slithers. Each one will be led to the front where they will declare their innocence of dissidence to the Serpent. Those who She shows displeasure to will be slain. Those left will be the innocent and those She Who Slithers has given a second chance to atone for their treachery. [Lore {Military/Religion} +2]. Spending THREE Resources to aid in this with more soldiers/proper rituals to thank She Who Slithers for her divine time [+5 total]. [More then happy to kill them all and let She Who Slithers sort it out!]

Motivation
To secure the foundations of the Empire​

Hexcode: 50C878

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

Feathers and Steel

---

Aim: Reach a place of prominence amongst the Realms of the House.
Action 1: Hold The Ways - Operations Choice 1, Deep Roads (Operations +2, The Highmost has suffered far worse than the creatures who lurk in the passageways and dark nooks. Most are scared away by light, as structures begin to form along the roads, the beginning workings of connecting nations to the attic city. )
- Note: Over the course of time, many nations have become lost to the rest of the House. While new structures form along ancient roads, scouts will go out to discover- or rediscover, other civilizations along the ways.
Action 2: Blade-Arts - Operations Choice 2, A Sword's Secret (Lore +2, Why do the blades whisper? Why is there a desire to slice, to cut, to bleed and break? What do they want? Can they give us more magic, more power? This unpredictability can also be a bonus, we can communicate, communicate with the way magic bends to our will, and unlock more than our potential. We just need to submit; we just need to be bold.)
- Note: Spending 3 Resources, seek to comprehend these secrets without succumbing to being mastered by the very blades we wield. After all- the creed of the Highmost is harmony and balance as much as it is pride.

Resources: 11 - 3 = 8

---

Wings beat over the winds of the Second Floor. Once upon a time, they would have heralded doom, despair. But those days were long over, ever since the battle of the Peakgate. The skies no longer belonged to the Wyld Flocks, to the hungry beasts. They belonged to the Highmost. From here, Kylen could see the world from the perspective of the Old Builders, the Giantfolk- and what a world it was. Sadly, she had no time to sightsee.

She urges her Starling onwards, Lendro at her side peering on with his spyglass. Marking the route along an ancient map. The Highmost had records of course, of ways and lands far beyond their own.

It was getting a little depressing how inaccurate so much of it was. The ruined roads, the lost kingdoms. They'd found just... emptiness where the Realm of Silver Leaves had been charted- Not even ruins left of a Kingdom. Whatever happened to them? They hadn't the faintest idea. At least there'd been ruins in other places. Kylen shudders, drawing her thick coat closer over her.

"... Who's on kitchen duty at the outpost? I swear, if I come back to another one of those stupid salads..."

"Ach, don't worry. It's Zem in the kitchen. Said he'd be making his noodles."

"Thank the House. I need something warm in me."

The winds are cold, and the House is vast. As far as the starling flies, Kylen and Lendro find more and more emptiness. When it comes time to turn back, they're both relieved. Let the ground-pounders complain about having to trudge through the reaches and carry building supplies.

This, perhaps, was worse.