Fantasy Throne of Heaven

[Cosmo]

Montague Navarro
Turn 1
LucasGhost

Coalin is packed full of large and small plays telling the tales of heroes and legends, such plays as Peacock Sergeant Miers who fought tooth and nail through the fictional Nurbellium Crusades to come back to see her wife, how she scratched, clawed and bled while leading her Color Guard through seemingly impossible victory after impossible victory. Many true critics found the sudden surge of popularity in 'heroic war comedies' to be a bit drab and grow old extremely fast, but the common man and women slurped it all up. The Color Guard, themselves, even started to march a bit straighter as people began to look at them with even more fervent look which, in turn, made them buy more and more outlandish clothing to help them stand out even further. Duels became even more common place as the Duelist, seeing themselves as the true dashing figures of the military, took to fighting one another to show their elite, heroic skills to the delight of the bystanders [sadly, a few civilians were occasionally stabbed or slashed on accident]. In truth, this whole sweeping direction Montague had pushed had gone far greater then anyone, but of course the Immaculate Montague as this was all clearly well within expectations, could have imagined. Murals started to appear showing dashing figures and warriors, games appeared allowing people to use slings, throw blunted javelins or duel with fake swords.. An artist even appeared called the 'Rose of Coalin', a female warrior who used a large Estoc blade as a great brush, as she moved and danced through her combat forms, the paint would fly from her blade to create wonderous impressionist art. If anything, trying to get this surge to stop may be the challenge at Coalin was starting to change into some delightfully odd Martial Artist city... with special emphasis on the 'artist'.

Gain New Military Unit
Coalin Militia
The Coalin Militia are a unarmored band of 'soldiers' with a motley collection of weaponry and horribly painted shields. They are utterly in love with the idea of being warheroes and have been tricked into believing war is simple and easy 'Back in time for dinner!' as it were. Each one tends to wear some vibrant colored ribbon, feather or floppy hat to try and stand out from their peers which hurts their ability to fight as a cohesive unit but their sheer belief in themselves and the idea that each of them is some secret hero of legend just waiting to be uncovered makes them Impetuous.

Gain 2 Militia Power
This is a unit currency that Coalin is going to have, it counts as military power, but the points from it can only be used to purchase Coalin Militia or Whistling Birds. With some EP investment [for better equipment] or better training facilities, this power can be converted into true Military Power.

But that's not all... Coalin's sudden.. support of dashing military figures has opened an opportunity.. The Rose of Coalin is not only a great artist, but a great duelist, and she may be able to be hired for retainer and turned into a great Hero... But there have also been a few knightly orders sniffing around Coalin as of late and seem interested in establishing a branch office within its walls.

Decision Point
1. Hire the Rose of Coalin on permanent retainer
2. Accept the office of a Knightly Order
3. Leverage some EP to try and get both
4. Your idea.

....

Meanwhile, in another, much hotter land where many of the actors and dancers were regretting [well, if they had the capability to] their fancy, colorful, but heavier clothes as their sweat ran down their bodies in droves, had arrived in Akthubit.. And ever single person within the capital also became immediately aware of that fact.

Explosions rocked the sky sending rains of glitter down onto the streets as flying kobolds, flapping fake cloth wings, tossed handfuls of the stuff down to the populace below them. Before the gate, a great host of people approached, dancing, twirling, riding walking lions.. Their movements were slightly 'off' as each one was an illusion conjured by the great, mighty, noble, brilliant, beautiful mind of Montague. Thunder crackled in the sky starting the sound of trumpets, bells and drums as the procession was announced.. People twirled in the air, held aloft by magic, as they twirled great ribbons below them that almost scraped the ground as some of the bolder children of Akthubit chased the tail end of the ribbons gleefully... as their parents chased them trying to hurry them safely in doors..

Another thunderous crack split the sky as something started to emerge in the heavens. Golden letters as if a great pen was writing words in the very sky.. Each letter brought forth a giant explosion of golden illusionary glitter as a sentence was carved into the very sky above Akthubit:

"From the City of Blue, Here Just for You!"

As the trumpets fell silent, a kobold so bright and shiny he reflected the very heavens emerged and opened a scroll... A scroll that fell nearly fifty feet to hang in the air as he began to read, "Akthubit! Your wise Nag... Negs... Negesta Kiyan," his loud, but shrill and squeaky voice shouting over the air as he fumbled with the pronunciation of her title, "Has hired the services of the most glamour, the most divine, the most handsome, the greatest playwright, actor, composer, singer, writer, musician, most grand, most lovely..."

For twenty minutes the Kobold read from his scroll, slowly but surely, it rising up to his hands as he read off every single accolade, great or small, his master had. Every single play he had written, every scene he had starred in... "The wonderous, Montague Navarro!" As the name left the Kobold's lips, another thunderous crack split the air as the trumpets sounded..

And as the Kobold finally lowered the scroll to look at the city, he noticed hundreds of bowmen at the ready, lining the walls, ranks upon ranks of golden shielded spearmen formed up in the streets apparently being ready for some sort of attack..

"Oh, I was supposed to come earlier.." the kobold said as if he finally remembered he was supposed to inform them before they arrived..

....

First Impressions go both amazingly well and horribly! Many of the people like the spectacle and are excited to see the play, while others are far less amused especially those in the military and charged with security seeing it as a massive display of the vulnerability of their city and something that needs to be fixed as soon as possible so no errant threats, or fools, could ever threaten them again... The play they put on soon will likely be the tipping point in how the city sees them and if their Warrior-Queen will regret inviting them or not.

As the days pass, hired runners scurry about the city to hype up the play, to enthrall the city into attending, to see the wonders that only the Blue City was said to have..

To the surprise of many, the play is a tale many are familiar with because it is one they have lived through. The story of a brave woman rising up against a corrupt regime to fight for honor, justice and freedom. The story of how Kiyan Taric and how she became the Warrior Queen.. Even if many critics do agree that Montague Navarro utterly stole the show as the dastardly villain and former ruler of Akthubit who falls to the heroine in the final act.. While many of the details are off, or extremely exaggerated, the play is very well done all things considered and it goes over extremely well within the city.. Soon rumors of the great play will spread throughout the land and imitations of the play will spring up, copying the tale of Kiyan Taric.. Kiyan Yaric's Renown Grows Arnalia

The play is sold out night after night, the wealthy of the city come to enjoy the spectacle and many more pay large heaps of it to lure Montague to their estates so they can converse with him, and show off to their rivals that they have Montague in their attendance.. Montague Gains 1 EP as well as powerful 'friends' within Akthubit

A single golden letter comes for Montague.. Within it reads an invitation to come to Nurbellium, to write a play commissioned by the Pharaoh, herself.. The writer promises great wealth and prestige but urges them to make haste.


​

 

[Cosmo]

Kiyan Taric
Turn 1
Arnalia

The capital was in high spirits after the visit and breakout show from Montague Navarro. This went beyond just giving people strong patriotic feelings and drive, it greatly increased the desire for plays and other such arts within Akthubit. Akthubit was no stranger to it, but there was also a bit of a 'wave' when a true master of their craft came to town especially since Akthubit tended to value jewelry and statues for artistic expression, tied heavily to their natural wealth in gold and, in turn, the stone from the mining operations. Already young men and women in Akthubit were eager for new plays, wishing to be actors or playwrights.. If this is encouraged to grow, it may become something special and interesting, but the artistically driven often tended to be free spirits which may clash heavily with the new push towards the The Lion's Eyes and heightened internal security.

The Lion's Eyes were formed, but there was a lot of vetting that was needed. While many wished to join, not everyone had the needed skillset and taking eager people off the street, or even trained soldiers, and teaching them entirely new skillsets would be time consuming. Did Akthubit wish to keep the Lion's Eyes as a purely internal force, one that keeps an eye on what happens within the walls and leave war to the army or would the Lion's Eyes be expanded to include the Lion's Roar.. A powerful military unit that could be deployed to crush opposition outside of the walls as well.. A hoard of gold had been unleashed in this endeavor, so regardless of the choice, it will be a boon to both..

Decision Point
1. Keep a leash on the Lion's Eye and invest in the Military
2. Empower the Lion's Eye and unleash the Lion's Roar upon the enemy, within and without.

Fire and Nature... Were interesting fields of magic, but trying to combine them to make some sort of attack plant was an interesting attempt. While her magic wasn't particularly impressive, the divine spark within Kiyan made the endeavor possible.. Able to 'force' her experiments to grow rapidly allowing far more brute force testing then any other mage could have attempted and through this sheer brute force method, Kiyan manages to gain ground.. A few avenues show up, which one does Kiyan pursue?

EDIT: Decision Made
Empower the Lion's Eye and unleash the Lion's Roar upon the enemy, within and without.

The Lion's Eye is fully funded, large, well trained and incredibly watchful. Akthubit has greatly improved internal security [resistance against spies and assassins]. There is a chance that people may chaff under the gaze of the Lion's Eyes, if unrest ever grows to the point there may be rebellion, the Lion's Eyes may enact a 'crackdown' to try and brutally put it down before it sparks. Any attempt at infiltrating Akthubit is more difficult and has an increased chance of being detected.

The Lion's Roar is established, unlike the Lion's Eye, they are less a policing spy force and more the mailed hammer of Kiyan meant to be brought down on any who oppose her. Be that rioters or thieves who grow too bold, or enemy nations marching into their borders. Due to the sheer amount of EP invested, the Lion's Roar is exceptionally well armed and armored including having enchanted weaponry.. Unlike other Military Units, you do not buy Lion's Roar with your points prebattle. Depending on the battle, and the points involved, you will simply get a battalion of Lion's Roar for free [this will allow you to go 'over' the battle point cap]. The size of the battalion will vary depending on the size of the battle.

Lion's Roar
The Lion's Roar wear heavy armor with steel greaves, gauntlets and a cuirass layered over chain. Their helms completely enclose their face as to protect the identiy of the Lion's Roar and so ensure their loyalty and freedom from things such as blackmail or fear of retribution from their neighbors if ordered to do what they must for the sake of the kingdom. They use spears, large seemingly gold rimmed shields and curved shotel swords at their waist. They are extremely brave, picked only from the best of the best, and so are Stubborn and ever single member of the Lion's Roar is given enchanted weapons giving them Magic Attacks. From their backs hangs a beautiful red cloak that has white trim and golden-yellow clasps. If the general of the army is placed within the Lion's Roar, they become Immune to Psychology. If Kiyan is leading them, they become Unbreakable.

Decision Point
1. Handheld Fire Belchers
2. Long Striders
3. Maneaters

... But Kiyan can feel she is missing something. Just that little bit of extra knowledge that could truly push this to the next level. She just needs that.. something. Perhaps if she was able to get the assistance of another Nature/Fire mage, perhaps even one with a similar 'nature' akin divine spark, she could make something truly great and terrible.

In addition, due to her massive use of nature magic coupled with her power, her understanding of Nature Magic increases to 3.

A lot of effort is put into improving the agricultural output of the nation and it does show some effect.. But there are two bottlenecks. The first is there is simply not enough fertile land to really push this through in a constant effort as while Kiyan can turn a field into a never ending harvest, she can only be in so many places at once.. But with how hard they're pushing plants, some more research could led to some entirely new crossbred cash and staple crops that could flood the markets and force their neighbors to start relying on them...

The second, is to get a good, stable, trade agreement with Nurbellium would go far in allowing Akthubit to get more of its product to the market to take more control of the share. At the moment, trades must pass through Nurbellium, and they tend to levy heavy fees and taxes or sale up the river to Gil-Galet which is what many do, however, as they have to fight the current it is a rather large pain [if the river were reversed, and they could bring their goods down and row up the river unburdened, it would have been a Sovereign send].

More magical research or work something out with Nurbellium, by sword or pen, would go far in seeing her goal accomplished.

​

 

[Cosmo]

Chepura
Turn 1
Dest

The forest that hivehome found itself in had long served as a bit of a 'borderland' of the nearby nations. Many had it on the map as 'theirs' but few actually had a presence within it. The forest was home to a single small human settlement, less of a 'village' or even a 'hamlet' and more of a logging site. It didn't truly belong to any one nation, but most of its workers and families came from Talirus and Nurbellium, with a few calling Caolin and Gil-Galet their place of origin. The logging camp was surrounded by a high, tough, palisade... because one of the others that called this home were a large tribe of orcs and goblins, and were one of the primary reasons the forest remained untaken. The woods simply weren't worth facing and riling them up over it. The orcs seemed to have an alliance with a large band of Ogres that lived within the hills outside of Coalin which would make them exceedingly dangerous if agitated.. But, they could also be made to be 'friends', as they were often looking to raid and pillage the human lands around them if Chepura felt bold, or brave, enough to try. The forest was home to a few large monsters that Chepura had a hard time making sense of through the eyes and minds of the insects, but were likely large, powerful and solitary creatures.

Among these large creatures, Chepura came across another giant hive... One full of massive wasps the sizes of horses. When she reached out to try and take control of them, something stopped her. Another force of great will, their Queen.. It was certainly within the hive, perhaps she could find a way to communicate with it and bind it to her will.

Chepura's ability to see through the perception of insects came from the power of the Word. No amount of blood magic could ever hope to match the power of a divine spark, so trying to improve on that ability with blood was almost certain to be a doomed endeavor. Sadly, insects simply weren't strong enough to act as 'boosters' to this divine power. Any insect she attempted to breed to accomplish this exploded into a massive spurt of guts and ash. But through trial and error, Chepura did manage to learn that Recludere, those that have been touched by the Gift of Chitin and had the touch of the Paths on them, could, in theory, be used as 'relay beacons'. But to do this would require some form of mental magic, Astral perhaps. Yes, if she had Astral, and a means in which to introduce it into into the Recludere, they could act as a form of mental nexus. A hivemind. Projecting her thoughts and consciousness further then was possible by 'joining' their consciousness to hers as the insects currently were.

Her efforts were not in vain however, through sheer trial and error, and the constant practice, her Blood and Nature magic increased by 1.
​

 

[Cosmo]

Gawain
Turn 1
Wew the Polymath

Journeying through Moorholm trying to gather more men is a difficult task. Most of the clans of note already subscribe to the Keep and Gawain, and Moorholm, itself, had a very, very small population as the swamp could only afford so many living humans of any real number. Even those that lived farther away were still ready to answer a call to war [and mostly plunder] if it was called. It tended to be less numerous clans and more just the odd homestead or two that stood outside of their control and trying to rally them was mostly seen as a waste of everyone's time as the people within tended to be isolationist and not have much to offer in the way of resources. Moorholm simply wasn't like other areas that had large untapped manpower potential, but just because it was rare didn't mean none existed... But if the Keep wanted to raise their manpower through scouring the swamp, they'd likely need to expand their search parameters to include non-humans or find a way to increase either their swamps ability to hold larger population or improve the fighting power of the barbarians, themselves.

Among those non-human tribes that called Moorholm home where the 'Gnashteeth', a large and powerful village of lizardmen including large powerful 'Kroaks' that were akin to massive crocodiles that walked on two legs and were strong enough to rip trees out of the ground and brandish as clubs. Of course there is the problem that they almost certainly worship Voragoth. The Coven of the Mire, a gathering of hags and elves that tended to keep to themselves while providing some services to the Barbarians for payment and, finally, there was a large, and odd, group of Beastkin that called Moorholm home. They never stayed in one place, moving around in their large, and strange, hybrid boat-carriages that they use to trade with the various barbarian clans and with the neighbor nations. They were seen as 'cousins' to the Beastkin living in Maeluir. While pressing them into service may be possible, it could provoke backlash from the other Beastkin around the world who are something of 'free spirits'.

All three of these groups call the swamp their home, and it is possible to reach out to them for conversation.. [As part of this action, you may pick one to make contact with. It can be done as a scene {if you have no other scene you wish to do instead} or it shall be auto-resolved].

Exploration of the swamp doesn't go very well. Not that Gawain and the Angels have trouble exploring, after all, it isn't hard to fly around and look at familiar terrain, the issue is.. Swamps aren't renown for containing large, secret treasure troves of supplies for war efforts. They're usually seen as more of a handicap for a nation more then a source of pride and value. The swamp appears much like it always has... swampy and fairly void.. Perhaps talking to some of those that often explore it, such as the Beastkin or the Coven of the Mire could give more information on what can be found within?



​

 

[Cosmo]

Baroqee
Turn 1
Twist

Life in Magnassia is both beautiful and difficult. The glorious blue sky above promises ultimate freedom, freedom to roam the eternal plains, to run eternal on the grounds of their ancestors, but resources are thin in the plains, and so the creatures that have adopted to thrive in this environment tend to be either very quick, very dangerous or both..

And the scouts of the Herde have reported sightings of one of the most unassuming, but deadly, creatures in the waste. The Katavro. A single Katavro is a small, fluffy black ball like creature that is about the size of a palm. It isn't a threat to anyone and is said to taste quite delicious when prepared with some fine sauce... but there is never a 'single' Katavro. The Katavro travel in immense groups, but they are often 'slow' and easy to avoid... unless a Black Swarm is formed..

A Black Swarm are hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, of Katavro, rolling over one another in a tidal wave of hunger and death. The fuzzy balls leaving behind only barren, empty land in their insane drive to feed.. Black Swarms, eventually, run out of things to eat and consume themselves, a self solving issue. Unless they are coming right at you as little can stand before the tide and be left as nothing but shattered bones.. and a Black Swarm is coming right for them with little time to prepare.

Decision Point
1. RUN leave the plains of Magnassia until the Black Swarm has passed.

2. Come up with a plan or scheme to deal with it.

Secret Actions are secret...
​

 

[Cosmo]

Farator
Turn 1
Eliasdagood

The capital of Mhorgan Ryu is.. odd. Some parts of it look crude and horrid, rock huts, while other parts are made of gleaming stone, covered in gentle swaying kelp.. When Farator approaches the capital, that is unpronounceable in his tongue, he is met by powerful looking Crab Bishi that speak in odd clapping and clacking sounds that he cannot understand... It seemed whatever language they spoke was not one that Farator understood. He and his entourage waited outside the walls for some time, as while he could have tried to swim up and over, that almost certainly would have provoked open conflict..

Eventually, something surprising came from within. A human woman in a shimmering blue dress that looked like it was made of sapphires. Her long red hair waving in the water as she spoke in a perfectly clear tone that Farator could understand, saying she was Lucia, a Wave Priestess of Valin, who has been sent to act as an interpreter as no one but their order had the capability to speak with the people of Mhorgan Ryu and that Farator was welcome to, what the people of Valin called, 'Cryoto'. She would help him speak with one of the Shogun's favored spawns who holds the rank of 'Daimyo'.

...

The diplomats to both Talirus and the Abylid Caliph goes about as well. Initial contact is made with some of the settlements on the coast, but the diplomats do not talk to anyone of real power within the nation. If focused, Farator may be able to speak to the Talirus Senate or to a Abylid Caliph Vizier. Still, progress was made and trade was established with those coastal settlements.

Gain 1 EP. Knowledge of the existence of Aventalor spreads​

 

[Spacekitty]

History of the Bloodline Tiresias
​

Founding:
The Childe of Tiresias are one of 13 primordial vampiric bloodlines, formed when it’s founder drank of the Elixir of Eternal Life before the time of the great empires of man.

Founder
Keo Tiresias, Seer-Mage of the Great Akula, Gazer of the Astral Sea

Biography
Mortal Life
Great even amongst a family lineage of Great Seers, Tiresias was born to a prominent family within the Great Akula, who served its fleeting warlords and tribal kings as diviners and court-mages, far before the time of empires and kings.

What is known is what has been said, as the Progenitor has not been seen for many generations. What stories have weathered centuries of history, passed on by word of mouth or found recorded in worm-chewed journal, tell of an eccentric Astral Mage who prophesized the end of the world and sought to unify all paths of magic.

The Seer Tiresias was said to befuddle and bemuse onlookers as a mortal and frustrate as a Ascendant. It was said he would take strange, nonsensical actions as he went about his day. Randomly turning around as he walked, abruptly ending conversations, conducting strange “rituals” before entering buildings and other such activities. When questioned, he would simply state that he was “seeking to walk the thread of fate he desired”. He would for no seeming reason refuse to speak to certain individuals, stating “I have already experienced this relationship and have no further interest”.

Despite his odd and even anti-social behaviors, many flocked to him for assistance, to have their fortunes read, to hire his services as a mage, to gain advice for important decisions and even mundane things, such as to ask if their partner had been unfaithful.

This is because it is said that he was able to read a person's soul just by looking at them. He could tell them things about themselves or had experienced that they had never told a soul or tell them things about them they did not even know. He could foretell the future with a degree of accuracy that made him enemies.

But not all his advice was reported to have been helpful. It is said that he once recommended a man to take his own life and once he did, Tiresias was asked why he recommended this and said “I saw myself prescribing him suicide and him doing so”. When asked why he would change this fortune he simply replied “I trust my own judgment.”.

His abilities led him to greater fortunes that he would reportedly spend on nonsense purchases. He was often hired on retainer as a court mage for local lords, though his tenure was often short due to the difficulties in working with such a man.

He was said to insist that hiring lords create large observatories for him of specific, intricate designs, which he would use reverently for a short time before falling out of favor with them and refusing to use them stating that the design, his own, was pitifully flawed.

In his work as a seer, he often looked to the celestial bodies for his fortunes and placed great importance in them as symbols. And thus often treated people differently based on their astrological sign.

In many accounts, as is here, Tiresias is referred to as a man. This is… debatable. Some accounts refer to him as a woman, others as neither. Some as both. This is because his appearance, sex and gender changed throughout his life. One would talk to the man one day, and the next, a woman would seemingly have taken his place, becoming very offended when one asked to speak with the “real” Tiresias. These occurrences enabled several successful impersonators. His original gender is unknown.

As a mage, Tiresias is notable for working on a unified theory of magic, claiming that all schools were connected and that Astral magics are their source, believing therefore that mastery over one could transfer to mastery over all others, with divisions between the paths being arbitrary creations of mortals.

It is uncertain if his theory was ever finished or correct before his disappearance, as his work on it was rarely demonstrated or seen. There are dubious accounts of him casting spells from other paths to demonstrate his theory. Many of his large experiments are said to be part of his unified theory.

He is notable for a grave prediction he made after cloistering himself in his observatory for a celestial year, only exiting after a solar eclipse, after which he entered a long period of being a manic recluse. Tiresias spewed details to few but called it “Void Call” and “Throne Fall”. He reportedly confided in Aisha, supposedly leading to her development of the Elixir of Eternal Life.


Ascendance
How he came to be of the first generation to drink if the Elixir of Eternal Life is debated. After his prediction, some, mostly those being his Childe, believe that Aisha set about creating the elixir, to create a group of mortals who could outlast even the gods and who could prepare for and prevent the coming end. With his unified theory of magic, which some believe he had completed, he helped in her creation of it and thus drank from it.

Others, mostly those outside of the bloodline say that Aisha made her elixir independently of him and that he was offered a sip simply because he was a notable mage of the time, and he accepted to avoid some fate he otherwise saw for himself.


Pre-Nahrim
It is said that the chalice was supposed to be perfect, to create immortals who could enjoy the fruits of youth for eternal life and gather the knowledge and strength to resist the coming cataclysm. What resulted was twisted. Strong beyond measure, faster than any beast of prey and gifted with the arcane, but filled with a hunger for the essence of mortal souls.

This transformation shook Tiresias; he was distraught in equal measure by what he had become and that the elixir had not been perfect, for it is said that the chalice was in some way the result of his unified theory and it’s “failure” to create perfect immortals discredited his theory in some way.

Tiresias immediately set about trying to rectify the flaw with the elixir and became increasingly frustrated by his failed attempts. It is said these attempts resulted in beings increasingly worse and worse, forming monstrous psuedo-bloodlines, some of which still lurk in the shadows today.


Nahrim
Historians tell that Tiresias bickered with Aisha over the formation of Nahrim and how it was run, as her focus on decadence and debauchery frustrated him, as he believed that they needed to begin preparation immediately for the Throne Fall and fix the Elixir. Still, he remained in the kingdom as a Seer, likely out of necessity as he needed the resources the kingdom provided him.

When the vampire city fell, it is said that he caused it in a failed ritual to manifest his unified theory, whose failure ended in a Doom Horror attack which consumed him, leaving behind nothing more than his eye. Other accounts report that he had fixed the elixir and was attempting to siphon the energy of excess and decadence to retroactively alter the original elixir they had drank.

Either way, many point the finger at the Tiresians for the fall of Nahrim, though others counter that this is all a fabrication by Aisha to cover up for her own failungs and she killed Tiresias, whom was already disliked and quarreled with her, so she could use him as a scape goat.


Post Nahrim
No verifiable accounts of him after the fall of the vampire city exist, though some claim to have spoken with him in their dreams, in which they were given cryptic prophecies and guidance, to mixed results (resulting in great victories/discoveries or terrible defeats and tragedies with little in between). Others believe that the later seer Anastasia was Tiresias in disguise, continuing work on his unified theory.

After his death, his prophecy was mostly forgotten, taken as the ravings of an eccentric. Though the elders of the Tiresians, especially those that knew him (though most died with Nahrim) and those within The Childe of Tiresian still hold it as truth and seek to work to prevent it to this day.


Bloodline History
Foundation
Tiresian’s prophecy, though told to few, is believed by his bloodline to have prompted the creation of the Elixir of Eternal Life, as Tiresian confided in Aisha his vision of ruin, helping her to create it as his magnum opus, his example of his unified theory of magic.
Others say he had no such involvement, and was simply given a sip due to a debt he was owed, or to gain his assistance in Aisha’s vision.

The elixir enhanced his already supernatural talents to almost divine levels of power. Despite this, the beast that was awoken inside frightened him, and he saw the elixir as a total failure. He sought to organize the progenitors to correct “his” mistake and to prepare for Throne Fall, but found himself mostly appeased and pushed to the side, often without his notice.


Pre-Nahrim
In the beginning, after the first generation had drank of the elixir and given it through spirit to the second, and from the second to the third, but before even the fourth or fifth had come to be, the bloodline stayed true to its “mission”, working to prepare for the coming Void Call.

Tiresias was not disposed to spreading the blessings of the chalice, but did so mostly at the behest of Aisha, and only to those who could assist in his work. This extended to few- Tiresias was particular in the company he kept, the company willing to keep him equally so. The first were what colleagues and friends he had, and the second what family he had bothered to keep ties to. They organized themselves into a single coven, which Tiresias named “Guardians of Throne Fall”.

As all the bloodlines grew, problems began to emerge from their… nature. Mortals did not take kindly to being fed upon, and some of the Ascendants of the other bloodlines, elevated so far above them, had grown careless, decadent even, in their feeding. The mortals rallied their pitchforks and torches, their petty armies and war machines against their new masters. Some vampires were slain this way, at great cost to the mortals.

The mortals did not differentiate between the bloodlines, and thus the Tiresians suffered their rage as did the others. For The Guardians of Throne Fall, this was mostly a frustrating disruption, caused by the other bloodlines refusal to listen to their pleas.

For Tiresian, this was further evidence of the failure of the Elixir. He tried to speak forthright with the mortals, to convince them of the importance of their work and how they should in fact be helping them, and to the other bloodlines how they should feed with care and respect, but neither received his pleas well.


Founding of Nahrim
When Aisha suggested the creation of a vampiric kingdom, Tiresian was skeptical, fearing a further fall into debauchery, but was convinced to help in part by the idea that this place could be a safe haven for his work. Though, his assistance likely came mostly from necessity, as the constant and growing threat of the mortals saw his observatories burned and his bloodline turned to hiding.


Nahrim
His vision for what the vampire kingdom should be differed greatly from Aisha’s, which led to fiery augments between them. Tiresian’s eccentricity however, meant that he was ineffective in arguing his vision, and he resigned to seclusion within the workshop Aisha, perhaps in an attempt to rid herself of him, gave him great funds to construct; the Observatio Astrum-Fatum.

His bloodline had grown large by this time, the gift spread down through generations. The first generation had been much like him. Eccentrics. Mostly reclusive, strange and obsessed with their work. They kept few friends, if any. Some did not spread the gift to any childe. Those that did, spread to their colleagues and family, who then spread it to their own.

As it diverged from him, those that joined his ranks became less like him. Less of them were great seers in life or great mages, they contained less talents for the blood to amplify and the blood had less strength with which to grant them new talents. But they were also less eccentric, less strange and reclusive. Less obsessed by a singular goal. Normal.

These Ascendant did not care for his unified theory, did not take his ravings as seriously as those more his kin. They had been given the fruit of eternal youth and they desired to enjoy it.

This division had begun before Nahrim, but in Nahrim it was laid bare. The Bloodline had become split between multiple Covens; those that dedicated themselves to preventing Throne Fall and those that did not. These others formed their own small circles, enjoying the fruits of Nahrim and involving themselves in its politics.


Fall of Nahrim
Tiresias and his coven continued to work on fixing the elixir and his theory until the fall of Nahrim.

Within vampiric society, Nahrim is a sore subject. It is a tale of what could have been, a shadow that all feel to live under. It was a time when the powerful vampires of old still lived and the blood was potent. When the Ascedant seemed to be on the rise, unstoppable and destined to conquer the world. Now vampires hide in the shadows, and can only dream of such things. The Young still try foolishly to remake it, Elders still revel in stories of Nahrim, and both still bitterly point the finger at who is to blame for its fall.

There are many to whom the blame could be pointed, but a favored of which is Tiresias. They say that on the eve of the fall, Tiresias attempt an elaborate ritual within the central chamber of his observatory, using energy gathered from a hundred constellations and a hundred celestial bodies in an attempt to prove his grand theory. But in his hubris, he attempted something beyond even him and tore a hole between the material world and the astral, out of which a horde of Doom Horrors poured, consuming him and then the city.


Post-Nahrim
Tiresias was not seen after the fall of Nahrim. Amongst the ruins of The Observatio Astrum-Fatum all that could be found was a singular disembodied eye, said to belong to him.

In the fall of Nahrim, much of the elder generations was destroyed, given final death with the destruction of The Observatio Astrum-Fatum. This marked the dissolution of the Guardians of Throne Fall and the further fragmentation of the Bloodline into small, isolated covens with disparate goals and ideaology.

A contingent of Tiresians remained “true” to the original intent of Tiresias, focusing on continuing to develop his unified theory of magic, despite their lack of solid details on it, and continuing to predict the future and prepare for Void Call/Throne Fall. This group called themselves The Childe of Tiresias, though outsiders mockingly called them the Cult of Tiresias.


Rise of Gomorrah
The young have always clamored for the rebuilding of Nahrim, the name now used to refer to the concept of a vampiric paradise, ever since the fall of the original.

Many attempts have been made throughout the centuries. When Nahrim first fell, there were talks of a reconquest, backed by even the Elders. War-councils were formed, War-Masters appointed and armies raised. But many of the Old Blood had fallen, and the vampiric forces could not surmount the coalition united against them.

In time, these failures made many vampires give up on the idea of Nahrim, and the term became synonymous with the idea of an impossible dream in many circles.

With the fall of Nahrim blamed on Tiresias and his bloodline, few wished to work with the Tiresians and it was rare that it’s covens took part in these attempts at reconquest.

This changed with the rise of Gomorrah.

More than a century after the fall of Nahrim, a new attempt was made at remaking it.

The attempt was not led by an Old Blood, but by one born many decades after its fall, in the wake of many failures.

Rogum Subastris of Bloodline Ignis was born of the new blood, but with the flame and strength of the old. Rogum was a Dementor, a vampire who had committed Diablerie, consuming the soul of another vampire. Rogum had done so in a blood feud with a powerful elder, surprising all by defeating the elder and consuming him as was his right, gaining the potency of the Old Blood.

Rogum believed that the past attempts had failed not because the vampires who remained were too weak, but because vampiric kind was heavily divided, often at the throats of their own kind as much as they fed upon mortals.

Rogum forged alliances between all 13 progenitor bloodlines, resolving divides that had formed and scarred since Nahrim.

More than a skilled Warrior and Diplomat, Rogum was a master Fire-Mage to rival the progenitor of his blood. He had such mastery over the path of Fire that he could cast an enchantment that protected even the vampires of the old blood from the sun, enabling him to field vampiric armies during the height of day, a weakness that had been exploited by mortal armies for centuries, earning him the title “The Conqueror Under the Sun”.

Even with covens from all bloodlines united and the ability to fight under the sun, Rogum knew his forces were too small to outlast the hordes of mortals.

Physical might being insufficient, Rogum turned to magical protection. He turned to the Tiresian Seer-Mage, Anastasia, to aid in the city’s defense.

Anastaria was a powerful seer and astral mage to rival Tiresias, embraced just before the fall of Nahrim. Anastaria, a mage of The Childe of Tiresias, used the knowledge of the coven to devise a way to keep the city safe, through a device she called the Lanuae Astra. This device, a collection of lenses and crystals that harnessed that energy emitted by the celestial bodies, allowed the city to be teleported to a specific location marked by a ritual circle. Her and other members of her Coven joined Rogum to help found the city, their aid as seers providing almost as invaluable to its success as the cities ability to be whisked away out of danger.

Anastaria divined much as Tiresias had, placing much importance on the movement and alignment of celestial bodies. Also like Tiresias, she labored on a unified theory of magic of her own design, equally tight-lipped with it outside of a few associates within the Childe of Tiresias that assisted her bit with it and with the Lanuae Astra. This was not uncommon of course within the coven, many theories had risen and fallen in attempts to “recreate” their progenitors' work.

Her similarities to Tiresias extended beyond her work however. She was an eccentric, as all seers tend to be.

She seemed to see or communicate with beings that were not there, entering into fugue states in which she would stare blankly off into the stars, murmuring to herself and unresponsive to the world around her.

She would at times refuse to speak to certain people without reason, only giving them cryptic fortunes before taking her leave.

Most strange of all, was that she seemed to channel different persons through her being. Two personalities seemed to dominate, which seemed to be at odds with each other.

The first personality was pleasant, though odd and prone to long and overly-enthusiastic rambles about her work and interests. It worked hard, though not to the point of totally neglecting her colleagues and the splendors of the city. She would remain in this personality for the majority of the time, though would become increasingly nervous as the deadlines for projects came due or when she became stumped by a problem with her theory or the Lanuae Astra. It is said that she would begin muttering about how the “other” would be displeased.

As the deadlines for projects closed or the first personality remained stumped by an issue, she would suddenly transition, even in the middle of conversation, to the second personality. This personality would dismiss all attempts to speak with it. Often simply telling or giving the person what they wanted before they asked, dismissing them with their fortune read in the blink of an eye, or somehow avoiding all contact with all people despite all attempts to locate them. It would have been believed that they had abandoned their laboratory, having not been seen for days, if it were not the constant evidence of recent work. Temperamental, it would often lament on the poor quality of the firsts work and spend much time fixing and revising what had just been done, calling her other “self” sloppy.

Because of her gifts as a seer, her works on a unified theory of magic and her strange eccentricities, some theorize that Anastaria was actually Tiresian returned. Either reincarnated, possessing a new body (explaining the personality shifts) or simply having changed genders once more.


Gomorrah
With its vampiric legions, thralls and bands of sorcerers, the city-state rose as a beacon of hope for Vampiric society and a growing thorn in the side of mortal civilization, successfully raiding mortal nations for blood slaves and riches.

Previous attempts to reclaim Nahrim had purposely excluded those of bloodline Tiresian, for fear that they would once more cause it’s downfall. Ignis had no biases. He made heavy use of Tiresian Seer-mages, and the Tiresians once more found their observatories grand and sprawling as they once had.

The city grew with each mortal city razed, as vampires flooded towards the city and the strongest mortal warriors of the slain city were granted the blessing, the rest raised by the city's Necromancers.

The mortal nations would rally their legions and convene on the city, but it would be gone before they could reach its walls, whisked away to a new safe haven from which the cycle would start again.

The city became a notable problem, and Old Talirus, still a rising star at this time, dedicated a legion to stopping it.

But Anastasia’s machine made this an impossible task. Each time they believed they had defeated the city, cornered it’s forces and surrounded it, her machine would whisk the city elsewhere, from where it could launch a new assault.


Fall of Gomorrah
The city seemed unstoppable, and vampire kind rallied behind it. But at its height, it vanished.

This was, of course, normal. The city’s Astral Mages, Tiresians who held perhaps the most important role in the city would be sent out under the cover of night to help pick the new site the city would be whisked away to, carefully crafting the ritual site that enabled the Lanuae Astra to work.

But one day, when the Legion of Talirus had once more “cornered” Gomorrah, it vanished, but did not appear at the prepared ritual site. It did not appear at any of the previous ritual sites, nor did it return to it’s original location. All that could be found, in the place from which it had left, was the singed imprints of where the city once stood. Its walls, its buildings, the carts in the market and even the footprints of those that walked it’s streets. All else that remained was the Lanuae Astra, now a melted pile of metal and glass.

Most gave up hope for the city rather quickly, but a few sought it out, believing Anastaria had intentionally teleported the city away to a secret ritual site or to somewhere else all together to hide the city away. The legions of man had grown adept at fighting the city and it’s tactics, and many had foreseen it’s eventual fall. Those fools that held out hope believed that, upon seeing this, she enacted some ritual to save the city, hide it away until it could grow stronger or the forces of man weaker. One day, they believed and some still do, it would return to restore the rightful place of the Ascendant- above all others.

Others, upon investigating the ritual site, found that the Tiresian Seer-Mages sent to construct it had been discovered, captured and squeezed for information. The mortal forces had marred the ritual circle and many concluded that this had caused the Lanuae Astra to malfunction, destroying the city and its inhabitants.


Post-Gomorrah
Gomorrah is seen as the end of an era for Vampiric kind. An end of a time when vampires could field large forces of their kind and directly challenge mortal armies in battle. The end of the Ascendant living and feeding in the open, and the dashing of hopes for Aishites to rule over the mortal races.

Past Gomorrah, there were no well equipped, serious attempts with widespread support to reclaim Nahrim. From this point on, vampiric society moved to the shadows of the mortal’s realms, scattered and loosely organized.

The finger of blame was once more pointed at the Ascendant of Tiresias, who returned to being ostracized by most of vampiric society.

Some surviving elders and progenitors took the loosely organized bloodlines and covens and formed the “Midnight Aristocracy”, less an attempt to reform Nahrim and control mortal kind and more of a way to control their fellow Ascendant. The “organization” formed a loose alliance between all bloodlines, save of course, with the Tiresians.

The centuries of attempts to reclaim their kingdom had exacted a heavy toll of their kind, and the Midnight Aristocracy worked to keep vampires in the shadows. They suppressed the voices that clamored for more attempts at reclaiming Nahrim, putting down those that threatened to bring them the attention and ire of mortals.

Among those they felt threatened their kind were the Seer-Mages other eccentric Tiresians. They were hunted. Those of power put to final death, those weak enough to not cause problems but strong enough to be useful all but enslaved, and the rest either ignored, killed or otherwise made useful. The Midnight Aristocracy would not be made another Nahrim, or another Gomorrah

The Childe of Tiresias were among those covens targeted by the Midnight Aristocracy. Though the same abilities that made them such a target also aided in their constant evasion of the Aristocracies blades, enabling the coven to survive and continue their work, though greatly hindered.


Recent History - Pre Gehenna
Purged by both mortals and vampires alike, the Tiresian bloodline is the smallest and least influential of all Ascendant bloodlines.

Though the centuries have healed many wounds and the Midnight Aristocracy no longer sends their blades to purge the bloodline, the Tiresians still do not have a seat at the table.

Few and scattered, the days of a unified bloodline all working to share their visions and continue the work of Tiresias are long over. Each coven is small, most often working simply for survival. The Childe of Tiresias remain, but a shadow of their former selves, though it acts as the central beacon for the bloodline, though most covens only interacting with the madmen as they need.

Great Seers are no longer born to the bloodline. Perhaps the blood has become too weak. Their Elders are dead, their progenitor missing. The blood can only get weaker. Perhaps the bloodline simply adapted to the constant pressure as each Seer was hunted, simple natural selection. Or perhaps they have simply learned to hide.

Their small numbers and exclusion from the Midnight Aristocracy has limited their territorial holdings and influence. This, when combined with their less noticeable method of feeding has resulted in knowledge of their existence being much reduced. They are often mislabeled as other beings, seen as separate from vampires, or their presence and attacks are otherwise misattributed. While other vampires are rooted out, their holdings and numbers slowly dwindling, the Tiresians now fly under the radar of mortal societies.

Though things looked dire, some Great Seers did remain within the Childe of Tiresias, ever faithfully continuing their work.


Recent History - Gehenna
As all things have in the history of the Tiresians, Gehenna began with a prophecy. A vision read amongst the stars, black and terrible, a void.

A seer of the Childe read the stars and realized… he could not see. He checked his instruments, his sextant and lenses, but found no reason why he should not see. He looked further… and found nothing. No threads of fate weaving through the stars. He looked backwards, and back still, tracing where the threads should weave until he found their broken ends…

What he saw at their frayed ends…

Being just a young Seer, he brought his findings to his Elders. They gazed upon the stars, and where they had before seen the endless threads of fate they saw nothing but frayed ends.

Even with the most powerful rituals they dared, none could not see past the frayed threads. The more who peered, the less who were able to see. They intercepted this as a sign of a coming end, Tiresian’s Void Call. They labeled this event “Gehenna”.

Work began to avert this event, drawing together isolated Covens and elders together as the future they saw became increasingly dark for more and more.

The covens put together a ritual designed in some manner to avoid Gehenna, drawing together the power of many vampires in a Hail-Mary. But there was some error in the ritual. In a twist of historic ironic, a tear in reality was opened once more, and out poured the horrors of the void… and thus ended The Childe of Tiresias.


Recent History - Post Gehenna
Covens shattered and the loose network broken, the Bloodline was left without Elders nor leaders.

From this void… rose Lady Alcina. A vampire of modest but respectable enough age and generation, she emerged with strange vigor and enhanced power shortly (in vampire terms) after the event, which was labeled as “Primis Gehenna”. Many Tiresian’s were without covens or support, especially younger ones, and she provided this and a place to feed, a way to use their powers and central leadership that they had not had before. Some, especially any vampires of elder age that remained, scorned this and were suspicious, and have resisted her influence and organization, but enough younger have joined her to warrant notice by the Midnight Aristocracy, but she has not earned their ire nor praises.

Action 1: [REDACTED]

Action 2: [REDACTED]

 

[Cosmo]

Alcina
Turn 1
Spacekitty

Secrets Are as Secrets Do​

 

[deer]

❛ Lady of Maelúir Síocháin❜

turn 1: spring

L

etters came and went, but she had never seen such urgency until now. The world beyond the borders of Maelúir Síocháin seemed increasingly foreign, its mysteries and dangers unfolding slowly. With an impending storm on the horizon, haunting thoughts plagued her mind. The removal of peace within her home drowned her thoughts with faint, ringing sounds of raised tones, echoing like distant thunderstorms. Flashes of red and anger distorted within her, clouding her usually clear mind.

Amidst her inner turmoil and foreboding thoughts of what was to come, she knew the delicate balance of the living creatures in Maelúir Síocháin would begin to tip. Siofra, the Lady of Maelúir Síocháin, felt the weight of revealing all the half-truths. But amidst her ever-growing worries, an unexpected warmth glowed within her bosom—a flickering ember of hope that refused to extinguish.

During her moments of reflection and a chance to slip away from a fae celebration, she found herself by Thraden Greenhill's grave. At Thraden's graveside, Siofra knelt, her fingers brushing over the inscription on his tombstone.

"You were a light in my life, Thraden," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "Your spirit lives on in the laughter of the Hobbits and the beauty of your garden. May you find comfort in the elements."

Siofra placed a bouquet of vibrant wildflowers on his grave. It was her small tribute to the adventurous hobbit who had given her the name 'Siofra' and had brought warmth to her Feywild heart. The memory of his adventurous spirit and unwavering kindness stirred something within her—a reminder of the beauty and resilience existing within their hearts. Thraden was enthralled by the outside world, often drawing maps and marking areas on paper through the countless stories of travel and tales heard from the beast folks.

A small smile often appeared on her lips when she thought of the elder hobbit. However, her lips pressed together, hiding an ache in her heart as she stood. As she stood there, memories of the mischievous Hobbits she had played pranks with flooded her mind. The flowers around the grave continued to bloom, and she took tender care of the flora and fauna. But with the possibility of Maelúir Síocháin falling to destruction, Siofra wondered what would become of her beloved home and Thraden's grave. Moreover, she made a grievous error by allowing her frustration to surface and yelled at the Hobbits when they asked many questions about the letters she received.

With furrowed brows, a loud sigh escaped her lips. "Nothing will come of it if I keep my thoughts to myself," she mused quietly.

Beneath her feet, the ground shook lightly as the vibrations caught her attention. Looking over her right shoulder, Siofra gazed at the silhouette coming into view. A nod was given to the approaching beast folk, acknowledging their presence. Her eyes glanced toward the letter in his hand.

"How were your travels?" Her light, airy voice traveled to the Leonar's ears.

With a shake of his head, his silky fur moved along with him. "Nothing worth noting. Lord Montague sent a response, my lady."

Siofra turned around, facing the Leonar fully. She extended her hand gracefully, allowing him to pass her the letter. Her fingers carefully broke the wax seal, revealing the glittering lettering within. The faint smell of baked apple pie awakened a sense of nostalgia within her.

"Thank you," she murmured to the Leonar, her voice soft but steady.

The Leonar inclined his head respectfully, his golden eyes reflecting curiosity as he sensed it in Lady Siofra's demeanor.

"The news?" he inquired, his voice a deep, rumbling purr.

Siofra's gaze returned to Thraden's grave as if seeking wisdom from the memory of the hobbit elder. Shaking her head, Siofra could only share a grateful smile. "We have preparations to organize before the next letter and the arrival of the Over Mountain Theater Troupe. But, in the meantime, I found a hint of courage to make amends with our small friends."

The Leonar's tail flicked in confusion before nodding in understanding, not wanting to overstep to satiate his curiosity. "I will await your next orders and head to the grounds."

Once the Leonar's retreating was away from view, Siofra tidied up Thraden's grave before returning to the festivities. She softly whispered, "Until our next meeting, Thraden."

Feeling remorse for her recent actions, Siofra sought out her Hobbit friends. Faes were never ones to feel indebted to others. Yet, as she neared the doorsteps of Arlo Greenhill's hobbit hole, Siofra couldn't shake an unsettling feeling. What made her skin crawl was the eerie silence that enveloped the area, devoid of the usual laughter and chatter.

Clearing her throat, Siofra lightly knocked on the door. "Arlo?"

Waiting patiently for the sound of footsteps, Siofra held her breath, hearing the unclicking of locks as the door opened to reveal four Hobbits.

With a heavy heart, she approached them, her voice soft yet filled with regret. "My dear friends," she began with measured words, "I owe you an apology. My worries about the outside world have clouded my judgment, and I let my fear guide my actions. I am deeply sorry for raising my voice at you. Can you find it in your hearts to forgive me?"

The mischievous Hobbits exchanged glances, their eyes reflecting a mixture of understanding and forgiveness. "You're just in time for tea," Arlo said, breaking the tension with a warm smile.

Upon entering the hobbit hole, a long table had been set up, adorned with an array of meats, cheeses, vegetables, and fruits. Plates and utensils were meticulously arranged by every chair. Before Siofra could gather her belongings, the Hobbits were all at her side, their eyes filled with curiosity and anticipation, ready to hear the good news.

But, at the corner of her eye, Siofra couldn't help but see a mischievous note on a cup that read, "Drink me".

The Hobbits' playful nature, even in moments of reconciliation, brought a small, bemused smile to Siofra's lips. She chuckled softly, appreciating their ability to inject lightness into the situation. As she reached for the cup, she raised an eyebrow in mock suspicion.

"Should I be worried?" she teased, her tone light, as she brought the cup closer, her curiosity piqued.

Action 1: Try to summon a dragon with an air gem ( could be a tea dragon! ) and craft potions with herbs
Action 2: Explore the feywilds/woods

 

[Cosmo]

Siofra
Turn 1
deer

The hobbits were a bit concerned at how Siofra gathered so many herbs and went about giggling like a mad woman as she planned something or another. But only a bit. When you live with a Fae among you, cackles and giggles become part of the daily life... Trying to keep up with their moods, much less Siofra's, was the sort of thing emotional whiplashes were made of. It took several days of work, but when it was all said and done, Siofra had an entire rack of small glass vials each filled with a different liquid.. There was very little 'uniformity' instead each one was different as if their creator couldn't be bothered to make the same one, over and over again, but really, who could? That's boring. Variety is the spice of life, so what if she had to get a Unicorn to let her take a few hairs? Or had to, quite literally, shake down a few pixies?

In the end, she had...
Potion of Barkskin [6 rounds of +armor]
Potion of Healing [heals hp {doesn't cure wound stages}]
Vial of Alchemical Fire [Napalm grenade!]
Vial of Crackle Mist [Covers area in a magical mist that electrocutes anyone in it]
Vial of Quickness [Gives 6 rounds of haste {fasty fast}]

In addition, through powerful ritual magic and even shattering an air gem, Siofra called out to the world for a friend. But not just any friend. She wanted a dragon! A mighty beast of legend, one of the great apex predators and rulers of the world!...

The magical lines were laid, the gem was shattered, Siofra called upon the power of spring, the power of her nature, she warped the world around her as the magical call went out.. And with a great roar something smashed into the earth before her. Dust and sand were kicked up, blinding all.

They heard the crackling of lightning as the dust started to clear. Gleaming white scales, powerful talons that dug into the earth, beautiful pearl eyes that looked at Siofra as if judging the mere creature that dared to call it. It was.. a Dragon. A White Dragon. A Beast of legend. Of Myths.. And it was about the size of a large dog..

The dragon lifted its jaw, its eyes looking down at Siofra [despite the Fae actually being taller] as it snorted a burst of lightning from its nostrils, "You have sent your plea and I, Goltrax, Ruler of the Nine Skies, Owner of the Great Hoard of the Three Peaks, Devourer of Sheep and Geese have arrived to take pity upon you and bless you with my presence.."

Goltrax clearly was a dragon, but an exceptionally young one.. Barely a child in winters by human count, but at the end of a day, a Dragon was a Dragon, even young as it was..

"You are fit to be my servant," Goltrax said with an approving nod as he gazed around the forest and hobbit village, "You will feed me many sheep and geese, they are my favorite, because my tum tums demands it."

Decision Point
1. Apologize and ask the young dragon to leave
2. Take in the young child dragon and play along with its ego
3. Try to capture the dragon and exert dominance/enslave it.

-----

.... Siofra craved adventure, as all fae tended to do, but where did she wish to go? The Forest had many things in it left to be discovered, but the Faewilds were infinite and vast.. But also exceedingly dangerous..

Decision Point
1. Explore the Forest
2. Venture into the Faewilds


​

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

Turn 2
Han Liuyang, Bearer of the Word "Dawn"

Meditations on Hunger

The Great Han Liuyang is hunched over, his hand against a tree. His breath rattles in his throat, the Tiger Lord's scars upon him feel as if they wish to tear themselves open- But it is not a physical wound he struggles with. No. The Favored Son of the Silver City has slain a small group of bandits preying upon the Silver City's villages as he usually did, with effortless skill and grace. And in the aftermath, with their bodies scattered across the grove- He had felt that urge.

That terrible, terrible desire, beating in his stomach like a second heart.

Eat. Consume. Devour. Make their hearts yours. And Han knew it was not his own will that spoke this to him. He had taken the Tiger Lord's power into himself- But only as one rides a Tiger. It demanded to be fed, or else it would feed upon you.

Han had tried to fight it on his own. Bend it to his own will, remind himself he was his own master. And nearly every time, he won.

Nearly.

He knew he could slip. That every time he pitted his will against the Tiger's hunger, it was a thing contested.

Unacceptable. Unacceptable. Han Liuyang looks to the Sun and comes to a decision. This could not continue.

Order 1: Trigram 32 (Heng, Enduring) - The Greatest Master is an Eternal Student
With the aid of Nomolos of Kozan, Han seeks a hermit-master. He was a novice in the arts of Ki, and so he did seek to further his mastery of them- But that alone was not what he truly sought. He had the Hunger, now, to contend with. To battle an outer foe was something he was certainly familiar with, but in the restraint of the self, in the mastery of his own mind? That was a war that he did not truly know how to fight. And so he would go forth and find one to teach him to restrain himself, to wield his Hunger rather than let it wield him, for Han Liuyang refused to succumb.

He held too much power to be allowed to become a beast.

He was not enough as he was- and so he had to become refined.

Order 2: Trigram 34 (Ta Chuang, Honored Thunder) - Opportunities Await Those Who Seek
Of the powers surrounding the Great Akula, Valin is the one best open to Han's hopes - Akthubiyet was sure to unite with the other powers of the South against the Dragon Emperor already, while the other two looked down upon the Akula too much to be courted. Han would seek to improve relations with Valin, and seek an opportunity to deepen the relationship of the Silver City with the Akoli's Jewel. Perhaps there was something Valin needed, perhaps a monster he could slay to seek its favor. Or something else entirely. Either way, Han can have patience for the time being, to set a presence in Valin's circles of power, and watch for a moment, a chance, that he could seize upon in the next season, after he had mastered himself...

 

[Trektek]

Throne of Heaven

Turn 2
Inziim


The Shielded Kingdom of Ysrendelle was all a hustle and bustle after Inziim came back. He had been made well understood of the events that had transpired in the time that he was gone. The attack by the Raiders led by the Jotunheim Giant and the Death of Two of his Generals.

General Wrentin and General T’Val.

Both were valued members of society as well as great and powerful warriors. The Kingdom is lesser for their loss as it is for the losses of the other Wights that had fallen in battle. It was disappointing that their unlives had to be given, but he knew that they were freely given in the name of the defense of the Kingdom.

The Lord of the Kingdom made sure that they were given a proper funeral where those that had given their second life can lay in peace.

No one is required to live a second life for the Kingdom, but those that do are looked upon greatly as protectors and guardians of their society.

With Inziim’s power for undead to be intelligent undead, this Kingdom does not see it as a Curse, but a Blessing.

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

The Giant’s Corpse was brought into the repository. Inziim looked at the creature with disdain. This was what killed many of his troops with ease? He would have to make its power of his own. That was the only way to keep his people safe from further raids of the North.

If any more such raids were to occur, Inziim as Lord of Ysrendelle would be forced to declare war on Jottenheim. Which is something that he would not yet wish to do. The Giants are clearly very strong if one undisciplined one such as this could tear his Wights to shreds.

Inziim placed a bony hand to his chin. Perhaps there is something else that can be done in the near future.

But for now, there are other matters to attend to….

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

The Lich was ecstatic to read the return letter from Lord Montague Navvarro. The master playwright had actually written back to him… Him of all people?

Inziim quickly poured over the letter as he opened it with his bony finger, paying careful attention to the wax seal.

He was over the moon at what was written in the letter. He would be willing to entertain himself and the people of Ysrendelle for alternative methods of payment. This was a GLORIOUS thing. And could help put his Kingdom on the Map and further bring prosperity to it.

It was still in a recovery state to the relationship with other nations after their devious neighbor had soiled and sullied their good name.

But now he would have to construct an appropriate stage for the Master Playwright to perform on. Yes, it must be glorious, dramatic, thematic and appropriate to their lands…..

Why yes, he would craft an amphitheater called the Bone Dome. Using various materials as well as animal bones should help seed the location in the hearts and minds of the people.

Yes. He would help make this happen.


Action1. Reach out to Talirus to open to trade relations with them

Action 2: Construct an Amphitheater using wood, metal and bone called the Bone Dome for Montague Navvarro to perform in

 

[Kent]

Turn 2 - Amon

"I look like a dried prune, don't I, Sullivan?" Amon looked at his wrinkly face and withered countenance in the full body mirror. Sullivan looked at Amon not knowing what to say. If he makes a joke, will it offend this being? If I don't, would it still offend this being? The blood mage is utterly confused on what to do. He thought that he should at least say something. "Those porcelain ladies definitely drained the life out of you, my lord."

"Oh? Are you saying I'm lifeless? I look dead? I might as well just pass away?" Amon furrowed his brows as he looked back at the flustered and sweating Sullivan. "N-n-no, that is not what I meant!"

Amon burst out laughing before going into a fit of cough. "I'm joking, Sully." Sullivan sighed in relief. He really doesn't know how to act in the presence of Amon. Hell, he doesn't even know his name!

"Oh, I must have forgotten, it's Amon." Amon smiled as he looked at the confused blood mage. "Amon is my name. But do be careful in uttering it, I will know."

Sullivan was flustered and caught off guard. How the fuck did his mind got read? Or was it in his facial expression and body language? But he was thinking of his name and you can't convey that in body language. This guy... Amon... perhaps the rumors are true... He can read minds. He looked at Amon who was just smiling mischievously at him. Oh boy... what did he get into. Why was he picked by this being out of all the blood mages in this god forsaken city. Is it perhaps he's young? Inexperienced? He doesn't really know! There's so many other choices, more powerful mages, more experienced!

"Lord Amon-"

"Amon."

"Lor-"

"Amon."

"Amon...." Sullivan corrected himself. "Umm.... a very pleasant name... who thought of it?"

"My mother...."

Fucking hell. What am I supposed to say? I'm not good at conversing socially. Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut. Yes, that's what I will do. I will not speak unless spoken to.

Order 1: Establish the “Free Market” with the Underworld Offerings Auction House + Attempted Construction of Midnight's Maw

Spoiler: Order Details

Note: Request this to be a scene. The auction and browsing around the "Free Market"

Amon has given orders to the Council to establish the “Free Market” which is basically legitimizing the Black Market, making it official and more prevalent in the First City. An Auction House, dubbed “Underworld Offerings” will be created in the First City which would be the center of this ‘Free Market’. Unlike Auction Houses from other nations, this Auction House has no qualms in putting up special slaves, stolen items, forbidden artifacts, or any items that auction houses from the other nations won’t accept.

Amon’s aim in establishing the Free Market is to earn more money for the First City from fees and percentages of sale and make it easier for him to shop the Black Market. Indirect effects would be attracting unique and different items to the First City as well as possibly more skilled and unique criminals/fugitives with the allure of a free market. It would also allow him to position himself as the central influence in the Black Market of the First City through his control of the various criminal elements in the city.

2 EP is invested into this massive project. The Grand Opening of the Underworld Offerings is also spread far and wide to attract more items and customers. The First City’s noble connection would be tapped as well. Invitations would be distributed far and wide in the ream (including playres). The Raven and Amon himself will also assist this operation, disposing of figures who would go against this consolidation or attempt to damage the influence/reputation of the Underworld Offerings.

Items from me to be auctioned/sold:
- Staff of Wandering Saint
- 1 Heavenly Spice
- 'Deep Breathing, Deeper Thoughts'. The book details how to use the inner 'ki' to unlock the power to heal the body and soul.
- A scroll detailing the location of an Ancient Dwarf Hold in the North

Items from Nomolos of Kozan to be auctioned/sold:
- 1 Unit of Heavenly Spice

Related Perks:
What Happens In The First City, Stays In The First City: Everything is 'legal', and so there is a lot of profit to made. It is very easy for you to generate Economic Power, but the lack of order and discipline hurts in other areas such as a brutally oppressed lower caste... but a lot of powerful people visit, and they sure get up to some.. questionable stuff they'd hate to have their families known about.

Addendum:
1. The First City also attaches a note stating that guests are encouraged to bring damaged or broken magic items, perhaps even artifacts to the opening of the grand marketplace. No reasons are stated but it could be assumed there are potential buyers or the items could be re-appraised/evaluated.

2. The Free Market is opened but the ‘grand opening auction’ will only happen 30 days after the ‘official’ opening. This gives guests time to arrive as well as for the First City to gather funds in preparation for the auction.'

3. Amon will also be stealing the 'intent to save money' and 'thriftiness' of participants (non-powerful ones, don't wanna offend a strong ass Hero or Worthy T_T )

Order 2: The Raven Take Flight
[Order Details Redacted]

Free Action: Blood Mage Experiment. Details in DMs

Additional Roll:
Kozan Partnership
Raven Intel

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Being a jester is a craft far more intricate than the bells and jests that adorned their costumes. It is an art form that danced on the tightrope between laughter and melancholy, one that required a deep understanding of the human psyche, the whims of nobility, and the ever-shifting tides of fortune. At first glance, jesters are the embodiment of levity and absurdity. They wear flamboyant, multi-colored attire, complete with oversized shoes, jingling bells, and the iconic fool's hat adorned with a floppy, feathered plume. Their role is to be the bringers of laughter, the keepers of smiles, and the courtly antidote to the solemnity of palace life. They juggle, they caper, and they deliver punchlines with impeccable timing, all to the delight of their royal audience.

But beneath the veneer of whimsy lay a complexity that few could truly grasp. A jester has to gauge the mood of the court with the precision of a seasoned diplomat. They have to discern when to elicit gales of laughter and when to tread lightly, for they were often the only ones allowed to speak uncomfortable truths disguised as jests. They are the jesters of paradox, capable of jesting with the gravest matters while revealing profound wisdom through humor. Their role is to serve as the mirror reflecting the absurdity of the world and the hypocrisy of the powerful. In the midst of revelry and song, they could subtly remind their audience of the transience of wealth, power, and privilege. They were the jesters of subtlety, knowing that beneath the laughter, a kernel of truth might germinate.

Yet, the life of a jester is a double-edged jape. Their jests can earn them favor and grace, but they also make them vulnerable to the capriciousness of their patrons. A joke that lands with uproarious laughter one day might be met with icy silence the next. A misplaced jest could lead to exile or even worse. To be a jester is to walk a tightrope of emotions. Behind the mask of mirth, they often carried the weight of the world's sorrows. They are the listeners of secret heartaches and unspoken fears, offering solace through humor. The laughter they elicit is a balm to the soul, a brief escape from the harsh realities of life.

In the grand tapestry of the royal court, the jester is a thread of eccentricity, a stroke of unpredictability. They are the enigmatic figures who, through jest and laughter, brought a touch of humanity to the often austere corridors of power. The intricacies of their craft lay not only in the jokes they told, but in the astute understanding of the human condition and the courage to make the world laugh, even in the face of adversity.

-Except from "A Fool's Gambit" by Gofrit

---

1. Gofrit begins studying to learn more about Astral and Nature magic with the guidance of Amage (Nature 2, Astral 3), hoping to awe her with stories of what Gofrit saw while in the Astral Seas in the previous turn. He also seeks guidance from his Angels of the Host to help him learn Astral magic as well. In addition, the Sigils skill will be used to request that Gofrit be tattooed with one of the famous magical Sarmatian tattoos.

Sigils - The Sarmatians are fond of magical tattoos that can be 'awoken' to grant a bonus to a unit. Amagê knows how to do so but she will only do so to people she believes are worthy. As part of a crafting/magic action, you can request Amagê to tattoo any Worthy or Heroic units you have [including herself or Gofrit] to give them a perk or ability.

2. After the recent infrastructure project, it becomes more apparent to Gofrit that he cannot fight against nature, but to work with it to enable it to provide and be bountiful with all its natural beauty and grace. Thus, Gofrit and Amage begin to use their respective abilities in nature and astral magic to cause certain helpful native plants and animals (bio-diverse selection of edible and or helpful plants that are bio-fumigants that naturally repel pests, sturdy trees fit for use in construction and have deep roots capable of directing water/retaining water in the soil, animals that are crucial to the health of the ecosystem such as beavers that can build dams and strategically flood and drain certain areas as needed for economic activity, and etc.) to prosper to encourage and turn the hostile swamps of Ditmarsh into a more hospitable area for both its peoples and animals. A fitting ambitious project to test what Gofrit has learned from studying and Amage's tutelage.

Spells that might be useful: Tune of Growth, Summon Animals, Herd of Buffaloes

Free Action: Explore the Vanir Ruins of Ditmarsh

Additional Rolls:

Refuge of the Unwanted: Every turn, there will be a roll to see who joins the nation of castoffs. Sometimes, it will be nothing important, lepers, mutants, or some of the more undesirable creatures like Bullywugs or Slinks, hardly worth noting down, other times it will be extremely dangerous people and creatures that could prove a boon or a curse upon Ditmarsh while, very rarely, someone or something truly wonderous may show up.

 

[Cosmo]

Han Liuyang
Turn 2
ThatWhichShouldBe

Kozan didn't really have a ton of information on 'ancient hermits' usually because if they're some secret hermit master then they are likely trying to not be found or are going out of their way to avoid fame or notice.. Would be a rather poor secret master if there were entire books written about them. Most of what Kozan had were legends and myths about such people from a long time ago, nothing that really pointed at a direction. So Liuyang was forced to 'wing it'. Teleport to the mountains of Jotun.. Teleport to the various desert oasis of the Caliph and Akula.. To the mountains and hills of Gil-Galet to the humid jungles of Bondar.. In his searches, he found one old woman, a Moatika.. and was found by an old man.

The woman was small, her fury had long turned white and her face had more crags then the mountains in which she lived, and when Liuyang asked to be taught, she took a single look at him and said 'No'. When pressed further, she gave Liuyang a look almost of distaste and pity. He was a child who over indulged in women, sake and luxury in his fine robes and yet dared to ask why she, a hermit who eschewed the world to find the path to true martial perfection, wouldn't teach him? He lacked discipline. Discipline was more then when he lifted his fist, discipline in life. Discipline to place limits on himself for clarity of mind, clarity of purpose, clarity of soul. Whatever lies Liuyang told himself, she had little interest in teaching a man who couldn't control his primal urges how to control the hunger of the tiger. The old man that found him was different. While the old woman had looked at him with distaste and pity, she had an air of kindness and wisdom about her, the old man, however, had an aura of cruelty and raw strength. The old man said his desire to control the hunger was foolish. He had embraced the tiger but had been unwilling to face the cost, like a coward, he had gone running to someone to fix it for him. He did not need to control the beast within. He needed to become the beast within..

The Old Master offered to teach Liuyang the Way of the Closed Fist, to become the beast. To indulge in his hunger, to become the warrior he was always meant to be, to not just sample life's pleasure, but to claim it all as was his right.

Decision Point
1. Accept the Way of the Closed Fist.
2. Reject.

But as Liuyang was teleporting around the world, scouring the wilds.. Trouble brewed within The Silver City. News of the Sovereign, and the gods, going missing had sent ripples of panic through them, coupled with knowledge of the rise of the Dragon Emperor had thrown fuel on the fires.. Discontent rose that their 'great protector' was never actually around. Liuyang seemed to spend more time parading around the world, taking hikes in the middle of nowhere, rather then actually leading and protecting his people. Who, when here, cared more about their own personal power, sleeping with woman and drinking rice wine then he did actually looking after the city...

Panic grew and grew until it eventually exploded into riots all over The Silver City. Eventually, due to the panic of a guard, a woman was cut down in front of her children during a large scale gathering, a protest against the current regime.. Panic turned to fear. Fear turned to anger. Riots exploded all over the city, stories are burning, people are dying... And Liuyang is no where to be seen.

Negative Event
Liuyang can NOT participate in this event as he is in the middle of nowhere looking for hermits and is unaware of the riots. The riot must be quieted before it grows out of control, before it becomes a revolt..

Decision Point
1. Send in the army. Restore order with force.
2. Arrange a meeting with the riot leaders
3. Hire criminals and other less desirable elements to intimidate the rioters
4. Your idea

Valin Diplomacy

The Valin Court, which was mostly powerful trade houses and noble families, was very dull. There was no convenient big monster to go slay to garner favor or some great war on the horizon.. as far as Valin was concerned, it was business as usual. They make it very clear that they see the Dragon Emperor as a 'Southern' Issue. After all, they had a sea between themselves and the southlands and, even if something did wish to invade them, they were buffered by the Ryu who had always defended the ocean with zeal and honor.

If anything, the merchants of Valin were excited at the prospect of war in the south, after all, they'd be able to take military supplies from the north and sell them at exorbitant rates to the nations embroiled in fights for their life! So any attempts at rallying aid from their quarter for the conflict is met with silence as they are looking forward to making a profit on the conflict and have little desire to engage in it themselves as war was expensive [when you were the one fighting it].

During a trade dispute between two families, over a book of poetry that had started a blood fued, Liuyang tried to settle it by stepping forward and ripping the book of poetry in half to give both sides half as it was a truly stupid thing to have a dispute over as the book of poetry was rather horridly written.. This nearly started a new blood fued against the Silver City but was saved by a Wave Princess giving a loud, very clearly a fake, laugh to prompt all the other families to laugh and so turn it into a 'clever joke' rather then anything worse. The Wave Princess gave a small nod to Liuyang and returned to her position as unbiased moderator. Contact with Valin is made, but little progress is made in trying to recruit them into the conflict. Can attempt to negotiate a trade deal but may owe the Wave Queen a favor as they'll likely need to aid to help smooth over the dealings.
​

 

[Cosmo]

Inziim
Turn 2
Trektek

Construction on the Bome Dome is commenced, but it was both not going fast enough or grand enough to match the skills and talents of one such as Montague Navvarro. Once more, the poor nature of his nation was holding him back from making something truly grand and inspiring, to match the depths of his ambition and vision.. Hopefully, the meeting with Talirus goes well and he could start prospering from the trade outpost that currently sit unused, once the caravans start to flow, Inziim is certain things will begin to turn around...

In an effort to get the Bone Dome completed, Inziim pushes the mindless undead to take more of the labor, and while they can be very efficient, their advanced skills are lacking.. A single bone, not properly secured, fractures and sends a wall of stone and wood tumbling to the ground slamming down on many workers.. But not a single one is killed or damaged as Inziim is able to quickly direct his work force into clearing the rubble and pulling out any injured and getting them treated. It was a rather impressive display all things considered, but there was an issue.. The Bone Dome was large but uninspired. It'd work but would it be good enough? He needed something to give it that pizzazz. Something to make it stand out, to make it worth... and he certainly didn't have the money to do anything valuable, at least, not yet.. He could use the bones of the giant, which would make it something special, but he'd certainly lose out on getting a large bone giant in the near future.. Perhaps if there was a neighbor that had some valuable resources he could borrow or maybe he could invest what he gets from Talirus immediately?

Decision Point
1. Use the Jotun Giant Bones
2. Build it with what you have.
3. Your idea

[Feel free to make this decision after your scene as you can pick Option 3 and then spend EP or any other unique resource, if you gain any, from a potential deal with Talirus]

EDIT
2 EP was leveraged to build it, the second the nation had money, its lich king immediately spent nearly every peny constructing the amphitheater.. It was certainly a controversial action, but the amphitheater, the so called Bone Dome, certainly looked beautiful. Gold and silver were etched into the bones, large sweeping runic designs that seemed to catch and reflect the light onto the stage. Imported red sandstone from Talirus is used in the construction creating the walls and the floors while the roof is left off to allow for a more 'open air' feel. The sandstone perfectly captures the sound from the stage and sends it up, into the stands, where even those in the back can hear.

It is truly beautiful and serves as a potential source of entertainment, as many young artist aspire to play there [even if they have dubious talent]. Gain 1 EP from a flourishing culture scene. In addition, due to the sheer scale and effort placed in the Bone Dome, any shows or plays done within it are done at advantage [I roll twice and take best result].


Talirus accepts the envoy to speak and it will be held at the Talirus city of Cefalu, more specifically, in a senator's 'box' within the arena. He will be meeting with a young Quaestor by the name of Aloysius who would, based on this meeting, present their case to the senate and see if some sort of arrangement couldn't be made to encourage traders to, once more, head north.

[Scene]​

 

[Auriel Maza]

The Oryon Word - Turn 2 - [Post Theme]​

Government & Crime

"The only power any government has is the power to crack down on criminals. Well, when there aren't enough criminals, one makes them. One declares so many things to be a crime that it becomes impossible for men to live without breaking laws." ~ Ayn Rand

• Fluff
• Actions

• 
  
  
  

  
  Kaladin, My Sweet Child
  Evening, after dinner. Twilight, where the light dims and the shadows come out to play, comes a time of fear and uncertainty. Our vision wanes and what we thought we knew becomes far less certain. Fear can overcome the mind; twist what it understands. Darkness is a common fear. A primal one, built in the human psyche for generations in many histories, across many worlds. And yet, he did not mind, gazing into the black nothingness. The sounds of crickets and the rustling of leaves, the distant sounds of civilization below; a railing sectioned off one of the isolated pathways in the trees, leading to the south of Flaustan. Not commonly traveled and easy to get alone. In a place like Flaustan, this would be risky to do. But, high in the trees with intricate precautions to keep it hidden, not as risky. Maybe safe. But, the ambient mood could never make that what it may be. Alone in grieves and a jacket with its front open, Kaladin leaned on the railing, looking out with tears in his eyes.
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  • Now with a variety of flows of goods and cash into the Word's various coffers. Now was the time to wield them, to use them. Of course, to protect the Word operatives and provide a deeper web to fool enemies, a new shell organization would be formed. After the High Inquisitors have secured goods and dropped them off, members of the street will be supplied and recruited to join the Redwood Traders. These traders will travel to Ysrendelle ( Trektek ) and the First City ( Kent ) where they will market their wares and collect information on Ysrendelle's economy. What did they need? What was cost effective to grab? What was in demand? What goods were not acceptable? Afterall, you may supply, but demand makes that supply useful. Over time, the traders will be tasked to enroot themselves in Ysrendelle and provide intelligence of its activities and of the outside world. Perhaps more of Talirus could be learned. The Redwood Traders will become a market arm, having not the best of clues where their goods come from. All they will know should Ysrendelle ask, "The Shadow provides." Members of the Word will monitor movement of goods. What is needed for the society and its shells will be taken, the rest left for the traders to trade away. Goods that Ysrendelle considers contraband will be used to curry favor with its criminal elements. The Traders will offer "contacts" for guidance into the First City and assistance in smuggling efforts to curry their favor and recruit them to the cause. If relatively successful, trade with the First City will start, using the criminals of Ysrendelle as additional cover from the elements of the First City. The web of shadows has begun to form and it will continue to spread and grow larger. The oppressors will cower in its umbra.
    • The Redwood Traders will begin spreading rumors of resistance and success in Flaustan inside Ysrendelle. Whispers that Kornith wasn't successful, the folk tales of the cloudless thunder, the strangers that stalk the streets. All will converge on one idea, that Kornith's nightmare. A patron for which his dream was bargained with stalks the forests seeking payment, revenge. A powerful force of nature clouded in deep mystery. Wild speculation from an undead Sovereign to a demonlord will spread as the Redwood Traders attempt to tell others of what they know going on inside Flaustan. Yet, another important rumor will come out. An heir lives; the old king is survived. His bloodline still dripping with life. No one knows anything other than the heir is a he and lives within Flaustan somewhere. Nothing can confirm it. But, many are certain of their convictions. Trektek
  • The criminal elements were rather uncooperative, the more violent and direct ones. But, they could be useful. The Secret police, Kornith's enforcers barked on Ryx's domain, Ryx's terrain. A lesson need to be taught in the now, to be seen and learned far too late. Together, Ryx hatched a plan. Using contacts in the supply chain and papers of Flaustan, Ryx will begin to leave a trail to expose criminal elements that oppose the Word. Frame those loyal to Kornith, letting the government destroy its own support. Let Kornith do the heavy lifting. All the while, Ryx uses his powers to infiltrate the secret police, turn them to the light of the Word. Take Kornith's eyes in the shadows and reduce the risk of operations. A two birds, one stone solution. How this plan cumulates depends on what Ryx finds the most effective. Grouping them together for a wild raid? A series of assassinations? Mass Imprisonment? Who knows. All depends on what the secret police do. Ryx will respond accordingly. The secret police must be corralled if this is to go well, to reduce the loss of life. Caution will be taken. Not a lot to go on. Ryx will personally ensure that the copies successfully infiltrate and dilvuge their memories. The previous incident, while useful, will not happen here.

 

[LucasGhost]

Turn 2

​

“Bet you he’s a ghost.”

There’s a pause from Elphaba at that, eight eyes blinking in unison as she looks up from the parchment sprawled across her desk, only to lock in and squint at the kobold seated across from her. “Amos Slendersnout if you strike that match in here so help me, Lord Navarro won’t be the worst of your problems.”

It’s Amos’ turn to pause from his reclined position, feet up on the Spiderkin’s nice mahogany desk, pipe held between his teeth, just a hair’s breath away from striking the matched held in his claw. He runs the math in his head and offers a shrug, lighting the match, a brief burst of light in the dim room, before lighting his pipe and extinguishing the offending stick. After indulging for a moment he removes the pipe to speak clearly, “He’ll be the worst of yours if you so much as lay one of your little hands on me though. Besides, you ignored my insightful observation, and I deserve a little recompense for that I reckon.”

Elphaba gives a long and low hiss that might sound threatening were Amos not aware that that was just what it sounded like when she sighed, “I thought we covered this already, he’s not a ghost.”

“Phantom.”

“Hm?”

“We covered that he’s not a phantom, nor a ghoul, nor a skeleton wearing a very convincing meatsuit,” Amos gestures in her general direction with his pipe, finishing with, “We haven’t ruled out a ghost yet.”

Elphaba continues to stare at him for a moment longer before wordlessly returning to examining the accounts laid out before her. The small office falls into silence, broken only by the occasional sound of beads colliding as Elphaba reaches out one spindly hand to make an adjustment on the abacus. By the time Amos is tucking his pipe back away he’s just about given up on further conversation with his coworker when she suddenly speaks up, “How was Hammer’s Rise?”

“Oh, well, you know,” Amos waves a hand through the air by way of an explanation, “Next time you see me I might be a stylish pair of boots accompanying a hideous suit of armor.”

Elphaba actually sets down her quill and looks back up at him at that, “The Wondersmith?”

“Flubbed it I’m afraid. Good news, Lord Navarro was right, he is an artist. Bad news, well, he’s an artist.” Amos scratches at the scales on the back of his head. He had spent the better part of these past two days back in Caolin digging his desk out from under the pile of mail he had found it under and furiously throwing fabric swatches at the pile of rotted wood the Wondersmith had handed him. Poor fella, he had seemed so nice too.

She hums, “That’s that then.” She takes a moment to reorganize her papers, six arms moving in perfect unison as she offers, “Might not be so bad though, his play went well in Akthubit.”

“It better have,” Amos cracks a smile, to Elphaba’s immediate confusion. “If you had read the script he sent me, well. I’m not sure what got into him, but he rewrote the whole thing while he was there. I expect we’ll be seeing parodies cropping up here any day now, just you wait. Soon half of all dramas will end with a grand swordfight with the villain being hurled down into the choir, only to get his costume torn apart at the seams as he laments his demise!”

Elphaba just hums at the kobold’s exuberance, “I suppose I’ll have to see for myself. Now, what was that about a ghost?”

Amos opens his mouth, only to snap it shut as soon as he hears the tell-tale sound of the door creaking open behind him. He doesn’t bother turning around, knowing he’ll just see a nameless body in a mask, but he waits until he hears the door close and footsteps trail away before he speaks again. “A bit active, isn’t it? He must be close again.”

She doesn’t respond, having gone back to diligently working the moment the doorknob had started to turn. He sighs, removing his feet from her desk and dragging his aching body upwards, “Good chat El, looks like I have a speech to finish writing.” He gives her a halfhearted wave that goes unnoticed and picks his path through the stacks of books and papers to the door, bracing himself for the next few hours that sprawl out ahead of him.

---

Action 1: An Opera Worthy of Such Splendor. Montague and his troupe will fly to Nurbellium (he is such a talented Air mage after all) to put on a performance there before flying home to Caolin. Additional artists and actors will meet them in Nurbellium as well to make it a truly showstopping performance. Certain precautions will be put in place to prevent a repeat of last season's... performance. Lesson learned, don't send a kobold to do a puppet's job. (Details of what this will entail are sent to the DM.)


Action 2: Navarro's Knights! Following up on the outstanding success of the drive to create a militia in the city, an academy for learning the knightly arts will be created and sponsored by Lord Navarro. Here is the chance for all those of romantic disposition to be the dashing figure that protects and serves the most beautiful city in the world. Montague will use the status of his title and reputation within the city to lend the institution credibility, his talents as a puppeteer, the skills of Rose of Caolin, the growing reputation of Sir Lily Naamah, and the vast economic power of Caolin to achieve his goals. The knights will truly be unique to Caolin, their education is equal parts perfecting combat techniques and building an appreciation and understanding of the arts. One cannot be a knight of Caolin if they cannot defeat an opponent with poetry alone. (Trying to provide training for militia to upgrade them to military.)

Spoiler: Opening Speech

Greetings and good evening to all people of the most beautiful city in the world! It is I, Lord Montague Navarro, Lead Actor of the world renowned Over Mountain Theater Troupe, and star upon the stage of L'Opéra du Coeur. Though I have a sneaking suspicion many of you already knew that, as I look out into this marvelous city I see the faces of friends and fans alike. It is with a joyful heart that I bring the news of the founding of Caolin's own knights!

Tales of valor and heroism are not new to Caolin, on the contrary, our very walls are built on such stories. But it is only now in this bold and exciting new age we find ourselves in that we are truly given the chance to embrace what makes Caolin one of a kind, a paradise in the modern age. The departure of the Sovereign is a shock, yes, but has this city and her people not persevered, and dare I say it, even thrived under such difficult conditions before?

It is in hardship that we find inspiration, in challenge that we discover creativity, and through our comradery that masterpieces are formed! No other city in the entirety of this world can boast such a thing, yet Caolin does so with ease! So I ask, truly, what better represents the soul of Caolin than her own citizens taking it upon themselves to become the alluring figures of legend that may stand and guide us for generations to come! We are all artists, creators, figures of renown in the legacies we leave. Yet now is the gold and blue opportunity that only a Caolinite can grasp.

The path ahead is not an easy one, but we are artists, are we not? When have we ever taken an easy solution over one that stays true to our spirit? And as such I say to you, my city, that the Knights of Caolin will pave our way in the times that are to come. They shall protect our walls, foster our creativity, and live as Caolin lives. After all, it takes a Caolinite to know how to defeat an opponent with wit and art just as easily as with a sword and shield!

Free Action! Sent to DM

Additional Rolls:

Spoiler: The Arts

Yours is the city of arts. Every turn, there is a chance someone will create an artistic masterpiece be that a painting, sculpture or muscial piece. These can bring the city great prestige and could potentially be leveraged for wealth. A famous, renown city doesn't need the most gold or army in the world if they have other means to influence those around them. Encourage this growth to increase the chance of masterworks.

Spoiler: Patronage (Need for Turn 1 & 2)

 

[Cosmo]

Gofrit
Turn 2
Heyitsjiwon

Gofrit trains under Amage, the Angels seem uninterested in teaching him or tutoring him at all, and does his best to follow her lead.. but there quickly becomes apparent there is a problem. Amage seems utterly uninterested in training him as much as he'd like. When questioned and pushed, she simply tells him it won't make a difference and to instead trust that she is doing what is needed, when it is needed... Which is frustratingly unhelpful. But Gofrit still learns from her and is able to broaden his mind, knowledge and power... Gain Astral 2 [Nature Magic does not increase]. Far less progress then Gofrit likely desired.

Amage, eventually, agree to give Gofrit a Sigil, and offers a small selection but which will he pick?

Decision Point
1. Tortoise
2. Alligator
3. Hawk
4. Cougar

Amage seems to have no interest in telling Gofrit what they do, merely telling him to pick one based on 'his heart'.

'Vines Grow, Alligators Bite, Buffalo Break Their Ankles' - A rather horrible poem croaked by a Bullywug.

The renewed effort to turn this swamp into something more goes.. questionably. The vines do, somewhat, help create more 'solid' ground to build by forcing water to run 'lower' then they, but the vines are very treacherous and the attempt to bring in buffalo, through magic, goes rather horribly as the swamp is a poor place for them and it is all too common for them to catch their hooves in the vines or the mud and to break their legs causing them to need to be put down... While their use hasn't gone well for construction or irrigation, the buffalo has made many happy as for the brief time they were here, it was good eating from all the attrition! Even the plan to summon animals, while brilliant in theory, has been frustrating in practice. Instead of getting beavers, they are getting alligators, cougars and various birds that are of questionable use in building or changing the terrain although many have taken to calling Gofrit the 'Gator Lord'. It was like the entire swamp of Ditmarsh was mocking his efforts, he needed Economic Power to make real, guaranteed, change, but he almost certainly needed to change this swamp to gain Economic Power... It was a real catch 22 that was likely easier to enjoy if it wasn't him suffering from it.

-----

Gofrit sends out people to explore the swamp for ancient ruins and treasure, but unlike last time, no chest or anything of value is found... At first. Then people started to go missing in the dead of night.. People who went to the edge of the settlement to gather resources, fish or otherwise work on the irrigation project simply vanished without a trace.. Amage seems concerned but can't pinpoint what is going on, almost as if something is blocking her vision and the Angels of the Host.. well, they're the same, it is impossible to get a read on their emotions if they even feel such a thing as humans understand it...

While Amage can't pinpoint what is going on, she seems deeply concerned.. Whatever is happening is not good.. Find out what is causing this disturbance and solve it.. [Scene Event]​

 

[Cosmo]

Amon
Turn 2
Kent

Construction is started on the Auction House and the Midnight's Maw. The Auction House is interesting as the First City doesn't have a 'Black Market', by default, nothing is really illegal in it hence its reputation. Slaves, drugs.. If it can be sold, it probably can be bought in the First City. So making it 'legal', doesn't actually do anything as the First City was always, by its very nature, a Free Market. However, what is constructed, instead, is massive series of tents, buildings and canopies to make the 'Auction House' a Grand Bazaar. Numerous stories line the outer rings with smaller stalls on each inner ring until, finally, it comes to a few stages and a stairway down. The stages are for 'low-level' auctions such as for slaves or lesser things of value while the stairs descend into the real auction house.. In this underground building that looks more like a vault, guarded by a conglomeration of the best guards of the city and beyond. It is here that the true bidding for items of true value are held and only those with true means are allowed to enter. Letters are sent around the world inviting people to come and it is.. meet with curiosity. Fact of the matter is, many people in the world believe this to be nothing more then a scam, to get a bunch of coin and stuff together from some First City actor to try and steal them all, but others are willing to try for the thrill if nothing else...

[Rewards for Auction House to be given at end of scene. Be careful to not damage consumer confidence!]

The Midnight Maw isn't.. quite as grand or impressive. While a considerable amount of money was invested, there was a lot to do in not a lot of time. Eventually, an underground arena was constructed in a bit of a pale imitation of the grand Talirus arenas, but the First Cities arena have a few charms of their own, one of the largest is the bioluminescent plants hang from the roof giving the Arena a constant, soft almost eerie blue glow. The sands are a soft, black sand from a shore far to the south and give it a certain demonic look that only helps the blood and warriors stand out all the more by comparison...

[[Gain 2 EP, as an action, you can use the Midnight Maw to give yourself a Gladiator Hero]]

​

 

[LecternOfJasper]

Turn 2​

The Height of Summer...

[[THE HIGH COUNCILMAN'S PERSONAL OFFICE, GROUNDS OF ROUNDS, HAMMAR'S RISE]]

The high councilman steepled his fingers. It had been a rather fruitless day in the hub of democracy, and he would quite like to have it wind down with nothing but a brandy and a book. Instead of a book, it seems, he will have Halfcliff. A rather difficult read, compared to most, but at least he was focused on the practical this time.

"Well, you have your school, Elion. And at least a few of the professors can be called on in our time of need, I admit," the chief advocate of devils began, staring at the gleaming white building that now dominated the landscape. "But it's hardly the solution we needed, I think. At its cost, we likely could have merely drafted the battlemages needed to face all the threats you've conjured up in our heads."

"Likely, yes," Elion remarked, letting the sunlight catch on his glass.

"And it does rather catch the eye. I can't help but wonder, though, if you're grasping at something higher than you can reach. It would not due to bankrupt the city over one Academy; not without some dividends in mind."

The High Councilman raised a brow at this. "Such as? I was considering throwing some manpower behind a mining rig, to strike the earth. Good metal is almost a luxury in many nearby lands, and with the days getting darker good steel's price can only go up."

Councilman Halfcliff considered the man in front of him. "Another big project, so soon? Striking the earth is all well and good, I'm all for it, but, well, what are we striking it with? We can hardly afford the labor needed at this point, much less any equipment."

"Well, the Order generally has our back on such things, I'm sure they'll work with us if they see the payout being quick. Then of course, there's always the Wondersmith."

"The Order of the Craft, maybe." Halfcliff considered it. The preeminent crafter's guild of Hammar's Rise has definitely seen better days, but not for lack of skill. "They'll throw a fit if you pull Galuin in as well, though. I'm surprised he doesn't have a bodyguard; they're practically out for blood at this point. But," he continues. rounding on his actual point, "free labor can only get us so far, if anywhere. We need to use what we have now, not expand into the business of tin."

".... Go on."

"We have this grand school- why not use it? Advertise far beyond our borders, draw in some foreign hedge mages and courtiers. An academy such as this could become known far an wide as a great- if expensive- way to get an edge on your competitors. Throw open the gates. It may even help the staff grow."

Elion was watching Halfcliff carefully. It was a decent proposal. A good one, even. And based on his demeanor, this impassioned speech was either very well rehearsed or actually genuine, and he didn't have the minds or the mindset to really care which.

"Not a bad plan at all," the High Councilman responded. "If you don't have a draft yet, I can have something drawn up. A joint venture between us ought to sway the Fish." Far to many Fish in this chamber, the few long-time members occasionally joked. Flipping and flopping as if they might not drown if they keep to the air.

"I'll review it tomorrow morning, of course," Halfcliff said with a snort, "and make sure we can afford the postage."

---

[[777 ADDLESON AVENUE, HAMMAR'S RISE]]

Cassidy Platt dropped the bundle of furs on the floor of the workshop and wiped her brow.

"People just keep... dropping things. I suppose I'll have to get a bin at some point," Galuin remarked, brow creased in frustration as he poured over a tome. "Thank you for the delivery. You know, the Council has been talking about a job that may suit your skills quit well."

"First, look at what I brought before with the complimenting. Second, pay me. Third, what do you want now?"

Blunt. Try to avoid a concussion. The Wondersmith sighed, setting the book down and walking towards the heap and the exhausted woman darkening his entrance hall. Passing a coin purse to her, that she immediately opened and starting counting on a nearby desk, he flipped through the stack. "It's amazing there are any lions left, at this rate."

"You're the only one that wants 'em. Well, and some shut in nobles, but the furs go to you. Don't know why you bother, really, there's cleaner heat from a deer, 'n they don't look good with anything."

The craftsman held up a pelt to the light and let out a whistle. "I suppose you're right. Good thing I don't need them to look good. What's this? Weasel?"

"Fisher cat." Cassidy slid the coins back into her bag, along with a souvenir or two. "Get them up by the Strait sometimes, where it's fed. What are they for then? And what'd you say about a job?"

"The answer to both," he said, with that shit-eating grin Cassidy never liked, "is to send a message. In your case, to Moorholm."

---

ACTIONS:

1.) The High Council of Gil-Galit had a problem. They now had a big fancy academy, and a big empty space in their treasury. As such, some conniving by the leadership has led to one being applied to the other. A furious ad campaign is begun, sending notice far and wide that the G-GAMSP is where a mage must go to get the edge over their competitors, and advance their prodigious skills without blowing their arms off. A number of woodcuts depicting the silhouette of the magnificent structures are used to stamp the flyers with the school's image, and a number of anecdotes on the rapid advancement of students have been put onto postings where larger copy is available. Missives will, of course, be directed to the leaders of nations, as well as the public, to put the academy on the minds of as many people as possible. (ideally they're trying to make some money through foreign tuition, and maybe diversify the teacher and student skills available.)

2.) Dr. Glass had a problem. As the world's penultimate grand necromancer, he's not quite sure if he deserves his self-awarded title. He seems to have gotten rusty at some point in the past few centuries. As such, he is going to take advantage of this quite fortuitous learning establishment, and try to pick up some tips from these "professors" the nation has managed to centralize. Glass is going to hit the books, with support from the Acolytes of the Dark Philosopher, and regain some arcana that he has lost to time. (PATH UPGRADES GO)

 

[Cosmo]

Ryx
Turn 2
Auriel Maza

The smuggling is.. mixed. In some ways, it is a success, after all, they are able to move product back and forth, but there are a few issues. The first is that many of the shipments get intercepted, and usually, thanks to the inherent corruption within Flaustan, these are able to be avoided through bribery, it does take a cut of the profit, the other is simple attrition. The First City is not a pleasant place and many operators go missing whenever they visit. Some are knifed in the street, some are simply kidnapped by things best not thought about.. There is no real 'cover' when someone is having their flesh and minds pulled apart by a curious Blood Mage.. So knowledge of smugglers from Flaustan does spread in the First City, but truth of the matter is.. they weren't the first Flaustan smugglers so this knowledge doesn't really gain any notice or cause any waves. When borders are locked down, smugglers will rise and flurish. It is simply the way of the world. Ysrendelle is.. hard to 'sneak' into. Traders don't often go to their borders, much less, from Flaustan, so if they appear, they are noticed.. and it would have been incredibly difficult to sneak past the Ash Walkers even if they weren't. A major downside about Ysrendelle is there is nothing but wasteland as far as the eye can see.. but the upside was it was pretty easy to see a group of people, or caravan, trying to cross that open, flat expanse of dead land. [Smuggling Operation Saves Passed, organization is still hidden]

This trade, smuggling goods from the First City to Ysrendelle is enough to net Ryx 2 EP. Neither the First City or Ysrendelle truly gains anything of note from this as the amount smuggled is simply not enough to effect their economies in a noticeable way. However, Ysrendelle does suffer from an unintended side-effect of their meddling. Taking contraband from the First city and trading them to the criminal elements of Ysrendelle causes said criminal elements to grow in power and strength. After all, they suddenly have an influx of new product to sell.. Ysrendelle starts to have a First City drug by the name of 'Crimson Salts' pushed on their streets. Trektek ... Crimson Salts is an oddity as it isn't being sold to the fleshy meatbags but the intelligent undead.. For if used correctly, it allows them to 'feel' as if they had skin. To taste as if they had tongues.. But it is incredibly addictive and tends to inspire horrible rage and violence in some which has already led to some deaths. The First City isn't really effected by this, as, well, chaos is normal so Blood Mages getting a few new victims, or some drug peddlers getting a new client doesn't really shift the balance in any noticeable way.

EDIT: If done right, and cleverly, Ryx could attempt to set up an official Trade Route between the First City and Ysrendelle using her smugglers and their 'host' nation as a bit of a highway. It would allow both to prosper.. but would exacerbate the issue of drugs and criminal elements growing within Ysrendelle [If Kent and Trektek agree to this, they will both gain 1 EP. You will gain a reward. Trek's criminal problem will grow].

The attempt to infiltrate and frame some of the 'higher' people in Kornith's circle goes.. poorly. An 'old guard' by the name of Pavel catches wind of the attempt to frame him, and in an effort to prove his loyalty, manages to launch a crushing operation that uncovers the existence of the 'High Inquisitors' and their attempt to pretend to be affiliated. They are completely, and utterly, annihilated in grand public executions and the organization, and most of their minor shell offshoots, are pulled out like a weed... However, by doing so, Pavel proves too competent and so Kornith has him assassinated to keep him from getting any ideas. In his effort to avoid being thrown out a window and onto daggers, Pavel managed to be thrown out a window and unto daggers, such was life within Flaustan. Progress in infiltrating the secret police goes slowly, but maybe with more effort or resource backing, it can be successful.​

 

[Dest]

Chepura
Turn 2

The hive must grow, the hive must feast! No, please, no, Chepura watched a mass of squirming insects, the mass of maggots flowing forth from the desiccated corpse of an animal that they had been planted within. Around the Godling dozens of other such corpses bulged and shifted as their own hordes flowed forth, the breeding grounds quickly beginning to fill as hundreds of thousands of the unholy creatures began to feast on their former resting places. Turning, the Queen left the macabre sight behind, wandering away from the tunnel that contained it and allowing her muscle memory to guide her back to the chamber that she had ‘claimed’ as her own within the hive.

As she walked the false titaness passed multiple Rex and Regina, each of them dropping to their knees in deep bows as they did. They truly know their place, excellent please, help me, save me, the queen thought as she watched them, the bugs around her buzzing lowly in what some of the longer serving of her commanders could identify as amusement. As she reached her personal chambers a mass of the small beings formed a door, providing her a privacy that no other within the hive could claim. She strode to the far wall, a small swarm of spiders and wasps vacating her clothing and hair as she did so.

Now then, shall I truly begin to take this world for myself? Please, leave them be. Before her eyes was a rough map of the surrounding countries, looted from the home of the one who had called himself the mayor of her home village. Even as she watched small insects colored in blues swarmed it, forming the lines that marked where her territory ended as well as a rough image of Caolin. Other lines were formed as well, rough shapes of the other nations that surrounded her home being outlined in red. With a laugh that seemed to shake the hive around her, she began to make her plans.

Meanwhile, deep within her mind, the little girl stared in horror at the things that the thing controlling her body planned. She strained against her bonds, trying to free herself as tears spilled down her face. The only thing going through her head being a single idea, a single purpose. C̴͓̘͉̒ó̶̘́ǹ̷̯̫͇̍t̴̛̙̖̦͒̓r̸̪̲̈́̽o̴͔̾͘ḽ̶̝͍̅̏̀.
​

---

Actions

1. Begin to scout the eastern edges of Talirus (Looking for towns and villages as well as troop allocation in preperation for invasion)
2. Begin to subsum the border towns of the Gola Gap, moving slowly enough as to not draw attention to their taking.​

 

[Wew the Polymath]

Turn 2
​

Jek stepped out of the keep, with a massive blacksteel gargoyle behind him. Even though she wasn’t nearly as large as Gawain himself- she still could easily dwarf a warrior if she stood on her hind legs. The war-celebration raged on. Emmony sniffed the air and loped closer to the rabble. Jek quickly followed behind. “Your kind parties?” He inquired.
Without looking back, she replied. “Not really. It’s just been a while since I’ve been out of the keep.”

“We can probably recruit some greenskins to fight with us. When they’re drunk we can make them pledge themselves to our warband,” Jek said.

At this point, the duo was getting a lot of looks from the revelers. A few took a knee in reverence. A braided knight Jek recognized as “The Leech” stopped the two. He held out a small blacksteel trinket for Emmony. It was immaculate. She shook her head and continued walking. The Leech grabbed Jek’s shoulder. “What the hell are you doing with a child of Gawain? Did they actually fucking make you a blacksteel acolyte?”

Jek tried to ignore the man and continue walking. This time, the Leech roughly grabbed Jek and got in his face. “Don’t ignore me goblin-fucker.” Jek smelled booze on his breath. A small, jeering crowd started for form around the two. Emmony stopped walking to watch.


“I’m not an acolyte, Leech. Let me go,” Jek said while slowly moving his hand towards his camp knife. The Leech didn’t budge. Jek took this as an invitation to slip his knife into the Leechs’ stomach. He howled in pain. The Leech shoved Jek back and drew his falchion. It was a truly brutal looking weapon, pockmarked and scratched with use. The thing was forged from crude bog-iron and likely had claimed dozens of souls. He charged at Jek, his face already paling.

Jek kicked mud into the Leechs’ face and sidestepped him. With a roar Jek drove the camp knife into the Leech’s back. The Leech slammed his elbow into Jek’s face with all his might. Jek was now in the mud without his blade. The shadow of a falchion fell over him as the Leech tried bisecting the wily knight. He rolled to the side and the blade missed. Thinking quickly, Jek grabbed the Leechs’ legs and took him down. The two rolled in the mud, throwing haymakers and screaming. Eventually the Leech got the upper hand and started strangling Jek.

Looking up, all Jek saw was the manic face of the Leech, smiling wide with his disgusting, rotten teeth. Jek felt around for a rock, praying to Gawain he could find something. The Leech continued choking Jek, and the world started to fade. Eventually Jek’s hands felt the slime of a medium sized rock. He slammed it into the side of the Leechs’ head, and then kicked the monster off him. He took a deep breath of air and dashed for the falchion.

The Leech was dazed. He had lost a lot of blood, and sustained a nasty blow to the head. Before he could get up, Jek loomed above with the falchion held high. The crowd began to cheer. Jek looked down at the injured knight. His mind flashed back to the serpent bearing down on his wounded soldier. Jek hesitated, then steeled himself and split the Leechs’ head in two.

He knelt down, cut the Leechs’ braids out, then quickly weaved them into his own. With a grunt he rolled the Leech over and took his camp knife back. He felt like a vulture feasting on a corpse while children surrounded him and watched. When he pulled the camp knife out, he gazed at his reflection in the blade. His hands were trembling.

A woman sobbed and ran to the body of the Leech. Jek got up and managed to choke out the words: “I killed him in a duel, his men are mine now.” The woman recoiled when he spoke. “Tell them to meet me at the willowpool tomorrow. High noon.”

She scowled at him, “Greenskin! You rat. You beast! You monster!” She spat words at him like arrows.

Jek plodded away with Emmony in tow. He walked all the way to the edge of the tent city and sat on a log, staring bleary-eyed into a pool of water. The adrenaline had begun to wear off, and Jek felt sick to his stomach. He pulled out the falchion and ran his fingers along it. He thought about how far the Leech had come to make it to this point- only to be snuffed out in a vain attempt at a duel. Then his mind shifted to him executing his own men in the forest. Sure, they were goblins. But Jek saw the humanity in them. They were scared and desperate. Did he make the right choice? Could he have reasoned with them?

Emmony eventually interjected. “Weren’t we supposed to be recruiting greenskins for your warband? Or is your newly-acquired one gonna be enough?” Jek sighed. “I just want to sleep tonight. Keep an eye out and make sure nobody slits my throat.”

That night, Jek barely slept. He’d close his eyes and see the split head of the Leech. He’d hear the cries of the goblins he had killed. He’d see the faces of his men- melted and disfigured from the serpent’s gas. Sometimes when he’d look in the darkness, fearing to close his eyes, he’d see the top of the tent writhing like a snake.

When sun began to creep through the tent, Jek knew it was past the point of no return. Resigned to function on a couple hours of sleep, he got up and exited. Emmony was there, dutifully watching him. The first words out of her mouth were: “You look like shit. Why are you up so early?”

Jek shook his head. “Couldn’t fall asleep. No point trying anymore.”

“You’re a strange human. The knights of the keep always sleep 8 hours or more,” Emmony said while tapping her claw against her chin. “Are you sure you’ll be able to rouse your new warriors?”

“I’ve roused warriors under far worse conditions,” Jek said with a bitter chuckle. “Goblin warriors, I might add.”

He walked towards the center of the tent city, seeking out something to kill time. The city was abuzz with smells and sounds- even this early. The clang of blacksmiths working bog iron, children running around playing pranks on passed out adults, and the breeze throught the willow trees wove a pattern that made Jek feel at home. He caught the scent of cooked hydra and almost considered eating despite not being hungry.

A woman dressed in fine white robes caught Jek’s eye. She had strange glass vials lined up around her, and was grinding away at a mortar and pestle. The woman was portly and had a big smile on her face. Her curly hair bounced as she ground herbs while humming. “What’s up? Looking for potions?” Jek nodded and began chatting with her. They alternated between haggling and trading stories, as was tradition around these parts.

Emmony watched intently. A small group of children hid behind a bush, pointing at Emmony and excitedly talking amongst one another. A little boy dared his friend to go up and poke her. At first he refused. But the others egged him on until he caved. He tiptoed towards Emmony, and then poked her. She turned to face him.

The children gasped with excitement. “Are you really an angel?” He said with a quavering voice.

“Some call me that,” she replied.

“Can…can you fly?”

She flexed her wings. “Yes, obviously.”

“Have you ever killed anyone before?”

“Yes.”

“Have you seen Gawain?”

“Yes, he’s my father.”

“What’s the keep like,” the child said, no longer regarding his own safety.

“It’s cleaner and has more cats wandering around.”

The child gazed at her with wide eyes. “A witch told me that Gawain was going to send us all off to war. She said we would all die. Would he really do that?”

Emmony dug her talons into the ground. “Your first mistake was listening to a magic user,” she hissed. “Your second was doubting Gawain’s wisdom. Where is this witch, so I can chew her head off?”

Jek approached the two. “Stop terrorizing children and find something else to do with me,” he said. He looked to the child and handed him a small pocket knife. “You’re brave for talking about mages near a blacksteel angel. Come find me when you’re old enough to fight in a warband.”

With that, they left to seek more entertainment. It was difficult in the wake of a party. People were passed out in the mud, vomiting in puddles of water, and just generally not being very entertaining. Eventually a young looking swamp elf motioned for Jek to sit down around a fire. He was cooking bog snake on skewers. He handed Jek a skewer and gave a big, toothy smile. Jek sheepishly handed it back.

The elf laughed and introduced himself as Strider, and gestured to his small warband. Everyone seemed well-rested and happy. Strider offered to groom Jek’s hair and re-weave some braids. Jek obliged, as elves were known to be quite adept at braiding.

Between the fire, laughing companions, and pleasant feelings of having his hair braided- Jek felt calm for the first time since the trek out of the swamp.

“You have so many braids” Strider said with awe in his voice. “And you have an angel with you. You must know a lot about the swamp. Me and the boys are going for our first deep raid into the swamp, any tips?”

Jek’s face twitched and his heart started to race. He looked Strider dead in the eye with the look of a madman. “Tips? My tip is to stay the fuck out. Be a cobbler. A smith. Anything but a braided knight.”

Strider pursed his lips and stood up, puffing out his chest. “We’re ready.” Jek stood up. “No, you’re not.” The young elf eyed Jek up and down. “I bet I could take you.”

Jek’s eyes went blank, and he suddenly gave Strider a right hook, breaking his nose with a sickening crunch. Strider got up and drew a wicked kukri. The fight that ensued was short and brutal, and ended up with Jek towering over a prone Strider. “You can’t even fight me boy! I haven’t eaten in days! How the fuck do you think you’ll take down a lizardfolk? I didn’t even need to draw my blade!” He stomped on the elf’s knee, shattering it. Strider let out a ragged scream. Methodically, Jek moved to the other one and broke it. Striders companions flinched with each break. One started shaking violently. Another got green in the face. Jek held his arms wide for the young warband. “You think this is bad? Don’t make me laugh. He isn’t even bleeding.” He counted out several gold peices and dropped them at the writhing Strider’s feet. “Take him to get patched up. If I ever see you in the swamp I’ll beat you ‘till your legs don’t work again, and drag you back myself.” He said before storming away.

The sprawling lake known as Willowpool glistened in the morning light. Willow trees reached to the sky with their hands, flowing in the breeze. Jek sat down under a tree, rubbing his head as an intense migraine took over. Emmony sat next to him and gazed at the pool silently. Jek held his head for the next hour, waiting for his new warband to appear.
People started to trickle in over the next couple of hours. Many were hung over, and the scent of booze clung to the air. None of them approached Jek. They just congregated away from the treeline and pointed at Emmony. This annoyed Jek, and he eventually just got up and walked down to the group. There wasn’t as much as he was hoping…but a blacksteel gargoyle would certainly convince some goblins to join him.

Many of them shot eachother glances when he walked down the hill to the pool. A few stared at Emmony. A large orc pointed at Jek’s new braid. “Heard you cut it off him before the body was cold.” Jek nodded. “What was I supposed to do? Wait ‘till he was buried?.”

The orc laughed. “You’re scrawny. Can’t believe you killed ol’ Leech. Even if you hit him with a cheap shot.”

“There’s no such thing as a fair fight,” Jek said. “Anyways, is this all of you? I thought the Leech had more than this.”

“We had about two dozen deserters when they heard the news. They didn’t like that you lost your last warband.”

Jek sighed. “I assume you’re the martial, yes?” The orc nodded.

“Have them found and have examples made of them. They broke code.”

With a leer, the orc yelled back to a few heavily armed elves. “Hear that lads? The Greenskin wants us to flay some runners.”

The group didn’t budge. Jek scowled and his hands began to tremble. This was going about as poorly as he expected.

The orc leaned in to Jek and said with a whisper. “This group has had low morale for the last few months. Leech had been drinking, wasting funds, and pushing us on dangerous missions. You sure this is how you wanna start your intro?”


Anger flared in Jek’s mind, but he forced the emotion down like a bitter pill. The orc was right. This was a recipe for getting gutted in his sleep by muteneers.

Jek stepped back. “Belay that, actually. I don’t want to waste time on stragglers. We have a deep raid coming up. I’m giving you all a month of R&R. I’ll be taking a loan out from the keep for our fun, and we’ll pay it back with a certain serpent’s head. This will be our official meeting spot. I expect everyone to be here same time every day. We’ll drill for a bit, and then party. How’s that?”

The warband perked up quite a bit, then Jek dismissed them shortly after. The orc stayed behind. Jek gave him a firm handshake. “I’m sorry for being short with you all. It’s been hell.”

The orc laughed. “I know. Everyone is eager to hear your story, and to also know why the fuck you have a blacksteel angel with you.” Jek frowned a bit. “Oh don’t worry about the elves. They’re a bit uppity at first, but they’ll come around.”

Jek shook his head. “It’s not that. I just dread going back into that swamp. And I dread recounting my tale.”

“Chin up greenskin,” the orc said while giving Jek a rough slap on the back. “We’ll wreck whatever got your boys, promise.”

Jek gave a slight smile. “I appreciate you going easy on me. You remind me of one of the guys I lost. What’s your name?”

“Name’s Ogrul.”

“Nice to meet you, Ogrul. I’m gonna go, but I look forward to drilling with you tomorrow.”

Jek walked off and went deep into the treeline. His migraines had gotten worse, and he started retching. His vision was getting cloudy too, and he felt a stabbing feeling in his stomach. Emmony loomed over him and shook her head. “You’re neglecting your health.”

“Shut up,” he snapped at Emmony. “I’m fine.”

“When is the last time you’ve eaten?” she asked.

Jek remained silent.

“I know it’s been at least a day and a half. And before that you were probably eating cold bushmeat. You will eat. You’re no use to the cause dead.”

Jek deflated and walked to town. The duo perused various vendor stalls, and Emmony prodded Jek to buy more and more food. They ended up back at the willowpool with a hide blanket.
Emmony dropped off two huge jugs, one containing water, and one containing cranberry juice. Freshly boiled eggs sat in small bowls like offerings around Jek. A whole chicken sizzled on a hot plate, drizzled with some kind of tree syrup. Jek grabbed a handful of sourdough bread that came right out of the oven and looked at it with pursed lips.

“Eat.” Emmony commanded. “Force yourself to eat.”

Jek slathered the bread with some cranberry jam and took a bite. It had been ages since he had anything sweet. As he ate more, he realized how hungry he was. A smile crept across his face as he began to gorge himself on the meal that was laid out.

By the time he was done, he started feeling tired. He laid under a willow tree, fatigue finally taking him. He looked at Emmony and simply said “thank you” before drifting off to sleep.

ACTIONS​

1. Cultivate the Swamp. Lord Favian made his way to the witches' meeting spot once again. This time he came with far less soldiers, and seemed almost stressed. He addressed Dasyra as follows. "Hello. We need to cultivate the swamp, Gawain's orders. He wants us to start growing desirable crops, wine grapes, mushrooms that can be used as poison or recreational drugs, herbs for alchemy, and anything else you think would be useful. He wants your people to start with the keep and work outward. He has told me that any amount of protection you need, you will be given. He is willing to personally escort your people if needed. Additionally, you have full permission to ecologically restore the swamp as much as you'd like. In fact- this is preferable. If it's possible for you to do a ritual that does this, we could work that angle as well so to speak. Whatever you think is best for this. This is the favor I ask of you."

2. Construct Trade Routes. Gawain wishes to expand his trade. He will enlist the help of his muscular barbarians. Also, since he has hundreds of children that double as living excavating equipment, this should be pretty easy to do. I mean there's flying cranes/scoop arms just running around, begging to be given work. Imagine this:

Except it's several tons and doesn't get tired or hungry. This will be done after the witches (hopefully) begin to cultivate the swamp. These will span to Caolin, Gil-Galit, and Loris. The lovely people at Gil-Galit have promised to use their anti disease juice to make the trade routes safer for regular Joes and Janes to walk down as well. After the routes are constructed, we will begin selling all manner of exotic plants to them if needed. Then: we open trade for some yummy EP (hopefully).

 

[Scatterbrain]

​

Turn 2 - Fortress of Raqis

Following his battle against the storm demon, Harnald had spent several weeks recuperating from his wounds. In order to pass the time, he had begun his own investigation into the whereabouts of the Sons of the Dunes, the only bandit clan to have escaped the Company of the Oak's wrath, hoping to track them down. A consummate professional, Harnald hated leaving a job unfinished so the fact that the Sons of the Dunes had slipped through his fingers vexed him greatly. Once he had recovered enough, Harnald and the men of the Company of the Oak assembled in the hillside fortress of Raqis in Akthubit to hold a memorial for the men who had lost their lives in their conflict against the bandit clans. Harnald stood at the front of the crowd as he gave his speech.

"Today, we gather to remember and honour the brave souls who gave everything in service to our company. These men, these warriors, our brothers, came from all walks of life, and found unity in our cause. In the life we have chosen to lead, peril lurks around every corner and our mettle is constantly tested. The fallen were a diverse tapestry of backgrounds, each contributing a unique thread to the fabric of our brotherhood. These names represent a range of experiences, all united by a sense of duty, loyalty, and an unwavering commitment to each and everyone one of us.

Together, they faced the darkest of adversaries, weathered the harshest of times, and emerged victorious more times than we can count. We cannot undo the past or bring them back, but we can keep their memories alive. We can continue the fight, carrying forward the torch of their dedication and bravery, so that we might honour both them and their sacrifice." Harnald passed an acorn to Rati, who sat on his shoulder, and she began manoeuvring her way down to the ground. "In their memory, we plant this oak tree, a living tribute to their indomitable spirits and the enduring mark they leave on our hearts. Just as this oak tree will stand as a symbol of strength and resilience, so did these men, regardless of their origins, stand unwavering in the face of adversity.

Let us remember them, for they each carried a story and all leave behind a legacy of courage, sacrifice, and camaraderie." Rati began digging a small hole in the soil, dropped the acorn into it before covering it with dirt.

"Durak Ironheart, Garret Stormrider, Kaelin Frostwolf, Elric Shadowcaster, Soren Stonehelm, Hadrian Flamestrider, Torin Windchaser, Alaric Nightshade, Baelor Grimraven, Zephyr Swiftarrow, Falken Springcaste, Thaddeus Bloodclaw, Brondar Hammerfist, Rurik Emberforge, Kalden Swampthistle, Seraphiel Firebrand, Lysander Waspshadow, Lorian Starfall, Nimuh Moonshroud, Vaelin Dragonfyre, Ehrel Tallspire, Kaldor Bluntwood, Valek Wyrmtalon, Drystan Smithmallow, Rhoarin Blackpike, Dorrn Greenskold, Kuerin Whitewinter, Gereden Quickstagg, Mirstil Bucktagger, Rostrik Greatbarrow, Zvendahl Kattelmusk, Ekard Chesterfolke, Trestin Longsteed, Darimm Cinderhopper, Padrick Paledale, Svordrin Owlfeather, Byrrne Steamflower, Merlvin Greycabbage and Dorandel Everdew.

Let us not mourn the end of their journey but celebrate the incredible journey they undertook. They were warriors to the end, and today, we salute their unwavering commitment, their valour, as well their love for each other, and all of us, regardless of where they started in life. Let us remember that even in the darkest hours, when hope seems lost, your brothers stand with you, right to the very end.

Rest in peace, my brothers. May your spirits find eternal rest, and may your courage shine as a beacon of inspiration to those you leave behind."

Actions
1: Recuperate in Akthubit and hold a memorial service for the Company of the Oak's fallen.
2: Launch an investigation into the Son's of the Dunes whereabouts.