Direct the fate of an empire from its rise to its fall.
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Opening
The hourglass spins. The first grain falls. Its landing signals an hour of power and triumph. Nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine have yet to drop. We the last falls, so shall the empire the first grain raised.
Which empire will define the coming age?
[ ] The travelers of the free lands. Since Gupada brought the people forth at the dawn of time, they have lived and traveled as families and clans through the wide plains and tundras. They are a stubborn lot, ever moving through the hostile vastness of the lands. In their history, they have never been united beyond temporary alliances between families.
Until now.
[ ] Oh Wenetsiya, city of coin, city of merchants. Proud city, beautiful city! All the world envies your riches, flowing across the seas from all ends of the world, to the center of the civilized world. And when the greedy hands came grasping swords, grasping for coins, you showed that all debts be paid, and the last coin goes to the ferryman.
[ ] The Glorious Confederation of the Ten Thousand is three of the most powerful states on the continent, but can never agree which. It is also several thousand of the least powerful, some of whom can be distinguished from well-to-do landholder solely by the occasional invite to the Confederation Vote. They are all united in their love of internecine warfare and insistence on their long history of being very different. Their neighbors have happily left them to it. But centuries of careful pacts and alliances, as well as a truly unfortunate accident, have change the field. The giant has awoken.
A.N: I've wanted to do another quest for a while, and also play with the genre. In this case, with having a fixed end time, though who much time passes between updates can vary. Mechanics wise it's mostly going to be a narrative quest. Current plan is one update a week. I'd like to do more, but I won't promise that.
Which empire will define the coming age?
[ ] The travelers of the free lands. Since Gupada brought the people forth at the dawn of time, they have lived and traveled as families and clans through the wide plains and tundras. They are a stubborn lot, ever moving through the hostile vastness of the lands. In their history, they have never been united beyond temporary alliances between families.
Until now.
[ ] Oh Wenetsiya, city of coin, city of merchants. Proud city, beautiful city! All the world envies your riches, flowing across the seas from all ends of the world, to the center of the civilized world. And when the greedy hands came grasping swords, grasping for coins, you showed that all debts be paid, and the last coin goes to the ferryman.
[ ] The Glorious Confederation of the Ten Thousand is three of the most powerful states on the continent, but can never agree which. It is also several thousand of the least powerful, some of whom can be distinguished from well-to-do landholder solely by the occasional invite to the Confederation Vote. They are all united in their love of internecine warfare and insistence on their long history of being very different. Their neighbors have happily left them to it. But centuries of careful pacts and alliances, as well as a truly unfortunate accident, have change the field. The giant has awoken.
A.N: I've wanted to do another quest for a while, and also play with the genre. In this case, with having a fixed end time, though who much time passes between updates can vary. Mechanics wise it's mostly going to be a narrative quest. Current plan is one update a week. I'd like to do more, but I won't promise that.
Last edited:
- Location
- France
[X] Oh Wenetsiya, city of coin, city of merchants. Proud city, beautiful city! All the world envies your riches, flowing across the seas from all ends of the world, to the center of the civilized world. And when the greedy hands came grasping swords, grasping for coins, you showed that all debts be paid, and the last coin goes to the ferryman.
[X] Oh Wenetsiya, city of coin, city of merchants. Proud city, beautiful city! All the world envies your riches, flowing across the seas from all ends of the world, to the center of the civilized world. And when the greedy hands came grasping swords, grasping for coins, you showed that all debts be paid, and the last coin goes to the ferryman.
ITS TIME TO GO FULL RENAISSANCE ON THESE FOOLS
ITS TIME TO GO FULL RENAISSANCE ON THESE FOOLS
[X] Oh Wenetsiya, city of coin, city of merchants. Proud city, beautiful city! All the world envies your riches, flowing across the seas from all ends of the world, to the center of the civilized world. And when the greedy hands came grasping swords, grasping for coins, you showed that all debts be paid, and the last coin goes to the ferryman.
LucidProp
Pocky Eating MafiaDoka
[X] The travelers of the free lands. Since Gupada brought the people forth at the dawn of time, they have lived and traveled as families and clans through the wide plains and tundras. They are a stubborn lot, ever moving through the hostile vastness of the lands. In their history, they have never been united beyond temporary alliances between families.
Steppe Empires go! Always interesting to see how they end up assimilating into the conquered cultures. Also, this has the best potential to see various cultures mix and fight one another considering how extensively steppe peoples adopted useful technologies and specialists from their conquered subjects.
Steppe Empires go! Always interesting to see how they end up assimilating into the conquered cultures. Also, this has the best potential to see various cultures mix and fight one another considering how extensively steppe peoples adopted useful technologies and specialists from their conquered subjects.
Still
Yeah, I can definitely see how that would be really attractive, and if we can be a naval power with stepp traditions we could potentially rule the world, or at least have a British-like empire where the sun never sets. Though I still like the idea of being a science power and just playing tall to become a ludicrously wealthy & urbanized island nation with technology that makes everyone seem like cavemen and a navy to fight GOD and go to every portion of the world to "Civilize" ancient cultures for all their resources.
- Location
- italy bologna
[X] Oh Wenetsiya, city of coin, city of merchants. Proud city, beautiful city! All the world envies your riches, flowing across the seas from all ends of the world, to the center of the civilized world. And when the greedy hands came grasping swords, grasping for coins, you showed that all debts be paid, and the last coin goes to the ferryman.
[X] The Glorious Confederation of the Ten Thousand is three of the most powerful states on the continent, but can never agree which. It is also several thousand of the least powerful, some of whom can be distinguished from well-to-do landholder solely by the occasional invite to the Confederation Vote. They are all united in their love of internecine warfare and insistence on their long history of being very different. Their neighbors have happily left them to it. But centuries of careful pacts and alliances, as well as a truly unfortunate accident, have change the field. The giant has awoken.
- Location
- Earth
[X] The travelers of the free lands. Since Gupada brought the people forth at the dawn of time, they have lived and traveled as families and clans through the wide plains and tundras. They are a stubborn lot, ever moving through the hostile vastness of the lands. In their history, they have never been united beyond temporary alliances between families.
I'm not sure what to make of a quest with a defined... Endpoint? Failure state? Countdown?
Interesting enough setting options though.
I'm not sure what to make of a quest with a defined... Endpoint? Failure state? Countdown?
Interesting enough setting options though.
[X] Oh Wenetsiya, city of coin, city of merchants. Proud city, beautiful city! All the world envies your riches, flowing across the seas from all ends of the world, to the center of the civilized world. And when the greedy hands came grasping swords, grasping for coins, you showed that all debts be paid, and the last coin goes to the ferryman.
- Location
- Hollister
[X] The Glorious Confederation of the Ten Thousand is three of the most powerful states on the continent, but can never agree which. It is also several thousand of the least powerful, some of whom can be distinguished from well-to-do landholder solely by the occasional invite to the Confederation Vote. They are all united in their love of internecine warfare and insistence on their long history of being very different. Their neighbors have happily left them to it. But centuries of careful pacts and alliances, as well as a truly unfortunate accident, have change the field. The giant has awoken.
- Location
- Dethklok
[X] The travelers of the free lands. Since Gupada brought the people forth at the dawn of time, they have lived and traveled as families and clans through the wide plains and tundras. They are a stubborn lot, ever moving through the hostile vastness of the lands. In their history, they have never been united beyond temporary alliances between families.
Until now.
Until now.
- Location
- France
[X] The Glorious Confederation of the Ten Thousand is three of the most powerful states on the continent, but can never agree which. It is also several thousand of the least powerful, some of whom can be distinguished from well-to-do landholder solely by the occasional invite to the Confederation Vote. They are all united in their love of internecine warfare and insistence on their long history of being very different. Their neighbors have happily left them to it. But centuries of careful pacts and alliances, as well as a truly unfortunate accident, have change the field. The giant has awoken.
- Location
- Outside the Box
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Well, don't take too long. You only have 999,989 hours left!
-2 Hours, the battle of Malca
[X] Oh Wenetsiya, city of coin, city of merchants. Proud city, beautiful city! All the world envies your riches, flowing across the seas from all ends of the world, to the center of the civilized world. And when the greedy hands came grasping swords, grasping for coins, you showed that all debts be paid, and the last coin goes to the ferryman.
Strait of Malca, -2 hours
Macano Matchielli runs his thumb over the rose engraving on the Queen's Favor, as he's done dozens of times since he received it shortly before boarding, and then puts it into the hastily sewn on pocket over his heart.
A look out the porthole shows the sun has dropped to only two fists above the line of the ocean. It will be time soon. He opens a heavy, iron-bound chest, and lifts out the heavy sack of still nameless Coins. One Hundred seventy-three pieces of meteor iron, one for each member of the crew. Enough to carry them into and through the storm to come. Well, that and the half ton of Quarters in the hold as feed. A dear price, enough to feed each soul in the city a year when counted with the cargo of the other ships in the fleet.
But such is the price of freedom, and he'd rather throw it all into ferryman's bay than let them steal a single Coin. That is the way of Wenetsiya.
He can see his crew milling about as he comes up from below deck. There aren't even the perpetual dice games of sailors going on as they wait. Too restless. The atmosphere is thick with the oily tension that precedes thunder.
He hands the bag to the bosun to start parting out the Coin, and climbs up to the bow. The rest of his small armada are lined up port and starboard, with only minimal drift. The sails are down, both so that they don't catch the wind, and so that the enemy before them doesn't notice them.
His first mate hands him a long eye, and he takes in the Leonis invaders, sailing by oblivious that the moment of decision will not happen on their timetable. The ships are small, their sailors lacking, never moving beyond the inner sea into the great blue. Svalutazione! They don't even dare to truly sail the inner sea, always keeping the coast in view. And yet, for all that any of his ships would be worth five of theirs, they have more than a hundred, and he merely seven. Proud Wenetsiya cannot win when trading lives.
He turns to his men, trying not to squint as he faces the sun. The waves are the color of old blood, the black clouds above tinted red by low sun. The air is heavy, like a thick blanket across his shoulders, somehow unmoved by the fretful wind.
He pulls the Queen's Favor from his heart pocket, where only it may ever rest. He holds it high, and one by one his crew turns towards him and copy the act, Boons to his Favor in hand. He knows, knows, that the scene repeats across the other six ships. They are all children of the Queen in this moment.
It lasts an eternity. Then he turns, puts the Favor away. If he is to die today, then it will be with the city by his heart. His men scramble to their positions. All the words have been said already. The Coins have been placed.
He takes a breath of the salty air he loves, in this last moment before the plunge from the wave crest. It is a good day to die.
But of course, it is an even better day to live through, and with a lightning quick motion he flips the last meteor iron Coin, forward and out. It arcs across the ocean, further than a human could throw, driven by the weight of destiny. It glints out there, hanging in the air like a tiny star. The air halts, the ocean waves still and flatten.
Thunder rings out, the call of a war drum.
Then lighting falls on the tiny star.
At the edge of his vision, six more lines burn.
Without a command required the sails fall into position. Seconds later, the wind arrives, jerking the ship into motion, followed half a second later by hammering rain.
The next minutes are a blur. It takes every hard-earned ounce of skill earned across the oceans of the world to keep riding the storm, even as the edge outpaces them. They cross the distance towards their targets with a speed only the raw fury of nature can provide, and only a true sailor could endure. They have to work near blinded by the driving rain, and deafened by the thunder. But every one of them has sailed storms before, and with Queen burning over their hearts, the rains cold will not touch them.
Before him through the veil of rain, he sees the Leonis fleet break apart, desperately trying to align with the winds in the hopes of survival. As they close, he can see signal flags going up, waving frantically in the face of rising winds. They've noticed their approach.
And he's picked out his target. A ship larger than the rest and painted in bright colors. He cannot hope to kill enough in battle to mean anything. Even a storm would not truly break the forest of masts before him. They must be truly scatted, so that his superior forces can be brought to bear one by one on isolated forces. And so the leadership must die.
One brave ship stops turning, and moves to interpose itself. He must salute their bravery and the grim determination he can read on the captains face. Maybe not a sailor worth the name, but a man worth respecting.
He calls out a warning to his men, voice ringing in a lull between thunder, and braces, ducking below the railing.
His ship shudders as a thousand tons made to endure the high seas hit the blocking ship's broadside and split the smaller vessel in half. The cries of men impaled by flying splinters join the thunder, and blood mingles with the rain.
He gives quick prayer for these brave men who stepped before death willingly. They are enemies, but in this they are brothers, and no sailor wants to drown at sea.
Then they are past, and his ship picks up speed again. The storm does not allow idleness.
His goal is before him, just a few hundred meters, still attempting to turn. Perhaps the delay was some use, because he can see a man holding a very feathered hat to his head now standing on the aftcastle, that highest point just a little lower than the deck his ship.
There's a lot of frantic gesticulation, and Macano cannot help but laugh as the feathers of the hat start to droop under the weight of water.
They collide again. It's less catastrophic now, his ship is slower, and they ram the aft at an angle, so the enemy ship can move with the motion rather than bare the full brunt. For now, the ships are entangled, but the groaning of wood tells everyone that this cannot last.
He jumps across and down, rapier and main gauche in hand. A handful of his men follow, the rest fighting to control the sails so they don't rip free in the storm winds.
The Leonis commander has given up on his hat and it sails off, though the wide eyes do not make it seem intentional. Still, he is well enough trained that he pulls free his sword even as shock has pushed him beyond thought.
The others on the aftcastle follow, even the helmsman, which shows why they should've stayed on land. The speed and shock of their approach pays off, as the sailors on the ship are yet unarmed except for a few improvised cudgels and two rope cutters. But Macano is not here for them. He's here to cut off the head of the snake threatening his home.
He lunges into a stab at the hatless man, catches his reposte on his parrying dagger, and slashes out the eye of the man next to him with the deflected stab as he moves back out of range. One of the crew uses the flinch to bury his sword in the man's leg, but cannot finish him.
There are a few moments of frantic back and forth, but for once the Wenetsiyans have skill and numbers on their side. Wounds accumulate. One, then two of the Leonis men fall, but hatless is skilled and has started to adapt to the unfamiliar circumstances.
Wooden cracking tells everyone the fight can't last much longer, if they don't want to go down with this ship. Then hatless steps back and pulls up a starling egg sized bright red pendant. It starts to shine, and Macano signals his men to return to ship. Bloodline holders are dangerous, and their presence would make this harder.
They scramble away, climbing the short distance to the deck of the ship. One gets out a rope to throw, and Macano appreciates the vote of confidence. But today is a good day to die, and if he can ensure his opponent dies with him, he'll gladly meet the ferryman.
Then he focuses. Bloodline holders are not invincible. But they are very fast, so he cannot simply react to the attack. The holder moves faster than Macano can. But he also moves faster then the holder can think, and Macano is willing to bet he can outthink him. So, strike where he will be, and in the driving rain and on the shuddering ship, with the longer blade, both bleed. The holder bleeds more.
Then the deck bucks as the ship tears free, and Macano stumbles to the side. Hatless smashes into him, against the railing, and he feel his ribs crack. His sword is useless, too long and the holder is already past it. But the dagger is free and buries itself in his spine. He slumps.
Macano pushes the man off and sees that his sword just past his side. The stumble saved him from a mutual kill. A shout tears him from contemplating his end. The sailor with the rope is frantically waving as the ships start pulling apart.
He grabs the no-longer glowing pendant and shoves it into a pocket then grabs the rope thrown on the deck. It's slick from the rain, but he wraps it around his arm a few times, then jumps into the water. The impact sends shooting pain through his ribs, and he has to struggle against the waves to stay afloat, but he's not alone. His men reel him in. The way up the side is terrible, banging against the side, his whole weight tearing at his shoulder, but it's better than dying.
He makes it on board, heaving and spluttering. He can't quite find the strength to stand on the heaving, wet deck, so he simply lays there, holding on as best he can. The two sailors who pulled him up throw him a concerned look, but the middle of a storm is not a moment where anyone can be spared for anything but the most critical work. He's flattered they even pulled him up.
So he simply lies there on his back, as the ship races the storm. The pass the strait of Malca, and the storm does not follow, caught on the land to both sides. This is why they chose this place.
It is night when they sky above is finally clear. He's still lying on the deck, now staring at the stars above, a diamond studded ceiling vaulting above. Three other ships are in sight, and he hopes the others made it as well.
Today was a great day to live through. There will be many great days to come.
What are the next steps after this victory? You can choose as many options as you want, but be aware that attention split too far will amount to nothing.
- [] The danger of invasion has not passed. The sea is cut off, but land routes remain. Hire mercenaries to fortify the approaches.
- [] The danger of invasion has not passed. The sea is cut off, but land routes remain. Offer favorable trade deals for military alliances.
- [] The Leonis have crossed you. Make the pay the price, ravage their shipping and show them who rules the waves.
- [] The Leonis have crossed you. For now, their greatest military port lies open. See to it that it ceases to be a concern.
- [ ] Track down the escaped remnants of the fleet. You're not about to let those who would attack your city escape, and scatter as pirates across the sea. Plus, even badly constructed boats have some use. It will help establish firm control over the inner sea.
- [ ] Make a great show of returning the pendant. It's ultimately replaceable, but by giving it to a chosen member of the Confederation, you have some influence on the inheritance. See that you gain some allies in the Confederation.
- [ ] Built a monument to this victory, as is right and proper. Let all see the beauty your city, and remember it's might.
- [ ] The meteor iron coins where a single issue, highly expensive and without enough material to replicate them. Ensure the creation of supply lines, the proper naming and the establishment of exchange rates, so that this powerful weapon remains available.
- [ ] Create treaties for a greatly expanded food supply. Wenetsiya if it is to stand proud.
- [ ] Write in
Strait of Malca, -2 hours
Macano Matchielli runs his thumb over the rose engraving on the Queen's Favor, as he's done dozens of times since he received it shortly before boarding, and then puts it into the hastily sewn on pocket over his heart.
A look out the porthole shows the sun has dropped to only two fists above the line of the ocean. It will be time soon. He opens a heavy, iron-bound chest, and lifts out the heavy sack of still nameless Coins. One Hundred seventy-three pieces of meteor iron, one for each member of the crew. Enough to carry them into and through the storm to come. Well, that and the half ton of Quarters in the hold as feed. A dear price, enough to feed each soul in the city a year when counted with the cargo of the other ships in the fleet.
But such is the price of freedom, and he'd rather throw it all into ferryman's bay than let them steal a single Coin. That is the way of Wenetsiya.
He can see his crew milling about as he comes up from below deck. There aren't even the perpetual dice games of sailors going on as they wait. Too restless. The atmosphere is thick with the oily tension that precedes thunder.
He hands the bag to the bosun to start parting out the Coin, and climbs up to the bow. The rest of his small armada are lined up port and starboard, with only minimal drift. The sails are down, both so that they don't catch the wind, and so that the enemy before them doesn't notice them.
His first mate hands him a long eye, and he takes in the Leonis invaders, sailing by oblivious that the moment of decision will not happen on their timetable. The ships are small, their sailors lacking, never moving beyond the inner sea into the great blue. Svalutazione! They don't even dare to truly sail the inner sea, always keeping the coast in view. And yet, for all that any of his ships would be worth five of theirs, they have more than a hundred, and he merely seven. Proud Wenetsiya cannot win when trading lives.
He turns to his men, trying not to squint as he faces the sun. The waves are the color of old blood, the black clouds above tinted red by low sun. The air is heavy, like a thick blanket across his shoulders, somehow unmoved by the fretful wind.
He pulls the Queen's Favor from his heart pocket, where only it may ever rest. He holds it high, and one by one his crew turns towards him and copy the act, Boons to his Favor in hand. He knows, knows, that the scene repeats across the other six ships. They are all children of the Queen in this moment.
It lasts an eternity. Then he turns, puts the Favor away. If he is to die today, then it will be with the city by his heart. His men scramble to their positions. All the words have been said already. The Coins have been placed.
He takes a breath of the salty air he loves, in this last moment before the plunge from the wave crest. It is a good day to die.
But of course, it is an even better day to live through, and with a lightning quick motion he flips the last meteor iron Coin, forward and out. It arcs across the ocean, further than a human could throw, driven by the weight of destiny. It glints out there, hanging in the air like a tiny star. The air halts, the ocean waves still and flatten.
Thunder rings out, the call of a war drum.
Then lighting falls on the tiny star.
At the edge of his vision, six more lines burn.
Without a command required the sails fall into position. Seconds later, the wind arrives, jerking the ship into motion, followed half a second later by hammering rain.
The next minutes are a blur. It takes every hard-earned ounce of skill earned across the oceans of the world to keep riding the storm, even as the edge outpaces them. They cross the distance towards their targets with a speed only the raw fury of nature can provide, and only a true sailor could endure. They have to work near blinded by the driving rain, and deafened by the thunder. But every one of them has sailed storms before, and with Queen burning over their hearts, the rains cold will not touch them.
Before him through the veil of rain, he sees the Leonis fleet break apart, desperately trying to align with the winds in the hopes of survival. As they close, he can see signal flags going up, waving frantically in the face of rising winds. They've noticed their approach.
And he's picked out his target. A ship larger than the rest and painted in bright colors. He cannot hope to kill enough in battle to mean anything. Even a storm would not truly break the forest of masts before him. They must be truly scatted, so that his superior forces can be brought to bear one by one on isolated forces. And so the leadership must die.
One brave ship stops turning, and moves to interpose itself. He must salute their bravery and the grim determination he can read on the captains face. Maybe not a sailor worth the name, but a man worth respecting.
He calls out a warning to his men, voice ringing in a lull between thunder, and braces, ducking below the railing.
His ship shudders as a thousand tons made to endure the high seas hit the blocking ship's broadside and split the smaller vessel in half. The cries of men impaled by flying splinters join the thunder, and blood mingles with the rain.
He gives quick prayer for these brave men who stepped before death willingly. They are enemies, but in this they are brothers, and no sailor wants to drown at sea.
Then they are past, and his ship picks up speed again. The storm does not allow idleness.
His goal is before him, just a few hundred meters, still attempting to turn. Perhaps the delay was some use, because he can see a man holding a very feathered hat to his head now standing on the aftcastle, that highest point just a little lower than the deck his ship.
There's a lot of frantic gesticulation, and Macano cannot help but laugh as the feathers of the hat start to droop under the weight of water.
They collide again. It's less catastrophic now, his ship is slower, and they ram the aft at an angle, so the enemy ship can move with the motion rather than bare the full brunt. For now, the ships are entangled, but the groaning of wood tells everyone that this cannot last.
He jumps across and down, rapier and main gauche in hand. A handful of his men follow, the rest fighting to control the sails so they don't rip free in the storm winds.
The Leonis commander has given up on his hat and it sails off, though the wide eyes do not make it seem intentional. Still, he is well enough trained that he pulls free his sword even as shock has pushed him beyond thought.
The others on the aftcastle follow, even the helmsman, which shows why they should've stayed on land. The speed and shock of their approach pays off, as the sailors on the ship are yet unarmed except for a few improvised cudgels and two rope cutters. But Macano is not here for them. He's here to cut off the head of the snake threatening his home.
He lunges into a stab at the hatless man, catches his reposte on his parrying dagger, and slashes out the eye of the man next to him with the deflected stab as he moves back out of range. One of the crew uses the flinch to bury his sword in the man's leg, but cannot finish him.
There are a few moments of frantic back and forth, but for once the Wenetsiyans have skill and numbers on their side. Wounds accumulate. One, then two of the Leonis men fall, but hatless is skilled and has started to adapt to the unfamiliar circumstances.
Wooden cracking tells everyone the fight can't last much longer, if they don't want to go down with this ship. Then hatless steps back and pulls up a starling egg sized bright red pendant. It starts to shine, and Macano signals his men to return to ship. Bloodline holders are dangerous, and their presence would make this harder.
They scramble away, climbing the short distance to the deck of the ship. One gets out a rope to throw, and Macano appreciates the vote of confidence. But today is a good day to die, and if he can ensure his opponent dies with him, he'll gladly meet the ferryman.
Then he focuses. Bloodline holders are not invincible. But they are very fast, so he cannot simply react to the attack. The holder moves faster than Macano can. But he also moves faster then the holder can think, and Macano is willing to bet he can outthink him. So, strike where he will be, and in the driving rain and on the shuddering ship, with the longer blade, both bleed. The holder bleeds more.
Then the deck bucks as the ship tears free, and Macano stumbles to the side. Hatless smashes into him, against the railing, and he feel his ribs crack. His sword is useless, too long and the holder is already past it. But the dagger is free and buries itself in his spine. He slumps.
Macano pushes the man off and sees that his sword just past his side. The stumble saved him from a mutual kill. A shout tears him from contemplating his end. The sailor with the rope is frantically waving as the ships start pulling apart.
He grabs the no-longer glowing pendant and shoves it into a pocket then grabs the rope thrown on the deck. It's slick from the rain, but he wraps it around his arm a few times, then jumps into the water. The impact sends shooting pain through his ribs, and he has to struggle against the waves to stay afloat, but he's not alone. His men reel him in. The way up the side is terrible, banging against the side, his whole weight tearing at his shoulder, but it's better than dying.
He makes it on board, heaving and spluttering. He can't quite find the strength to stand on the heaving, wet deck, so he simply lays there, holding on as best he can. The two sailors who pulled him up throw him a concerned look, but the middle of a storm is not a moment where anyone can be spared for anything but the most critical work. He's flattered they even pulled him up.
So he simply lies there on his back, as the ship races the storm. The pass the strait of Malca, and the storm does not follow, caught on the land to both sides. This is why they chose this place.
It is night when they sky above is finally clear. He's still lying on the deck, now staring at the stars above, a diamond studded ceiling vaulting above. Three other ships are in sight, and he hopes the others made it as well.
Today was a great day to live through. There will be many great days to come.
What are the next steps after this victory? You can choose as many options as you want, but be aware that attention split too far will amount to nothing.
- [] The danger of invasion has not passed. The sea is cut off, but land routes remain. Hire mercenaries to fortify the approaches.
- [] The danger of invasion has not passed. The sea is cut off, but land routes remain. Offer favorable trade deals for military alliances.
- [] The Leonis have crossed you. Make the pay the price, ravage their shipping and show them who rules the waves.
- [] The Leonis have crossed you. For now, their greatest military port lies open. See to it that it ceases to be a concern.
- [ ] Track down the escaped remnants of the fleet. You're not about to let those who would attack your city escape, and scatter as pirates across the sea. Plus, even badly constructed boats have some use. It will help establish firm control over the inner sea.
- [ ] Make a great show of returning the pendant. It's ultimately replaceable, but by giving it to a chosen member of the Confederation, you have some influence on the inheritance. See that you gain some allies in the Confederation.
- [ ] Built a monument to this victory, as is right and proper. Let all see the beauty your city, and remember it's might.
- [ ] The meteor iron coins where a single issue, highly expensive and without enough material to replicate them. Ensure the creation of supply lines, the proper naming and the establishment of exchange rates, so that this powerful weapon remains available.
- [ ] Create treaties for a greatly expanded food supply. Wenetsiya if it is to stand proud.
- [ ] Write in
Let's Not Put This Victory to Vain
- [X] The danger of invasion has not passed. The sea is cut off, but land routes remain. Offer favorable trade deals for military alliances.
- [X] Track down the escaped remnants of the fleet. You're not about to let those who would attack your city escape, and scatter as pirates across the sea. Plus, even badly constructed boats have some use. It will help establish firm control over the inner sea.
- [X] Make a great show of returning the pendant. It's ultimately replaceable, but by giving it to a chosen member of the Confederation, you have some influence on the inheritance. See that you gain some allies in the Confederation.
- [X] The meteor iron coins where a single issue, highly expensive and without enough material to replicate them. Ensure the creation of supply lines, the proper naming and the establishment of exchange rates, so that this powerful weapon remains available.
- [X] Create treaties for a greatly expanded food supply. Wenetsiya if it is to stand proud.
- [X] The danger of invasion has not passed. The sea is cut off, but land routes remain. Offer favorable trade deals for military alliances.
- [X] Track down the escaped remnants of the fleet. You're not about to let those who would attack your city escape, and scatter as pirates across the sea. Plus, even badly constructed boats have some use. It will help establish firm control over the inner sea.
- [X] Make a great show of returning the pendant. It's ultimately replaceable, but by giving it to a chosen member of the Confederation, you have some influence on the inheritance. See that you gain some allies in the Confederation.
- [X] The meteor iron coins where a single issue, highly expensive and without enough material to replicate them. Ensure the creation of supply lines, the proper naming and the establishment of exchange rates, so that this powerful weapon remains available.
- [X] Create treaties for a greatly expanded food supply. Wenetsiya if it is to stand proud.
Yup. Well, that and a whole lot of Quarters to feed in power. All the faction had their own magic styles. Wenetsiya's is Coin based. Very flexible, and very potentially powerful, but also extremely convoluted, and expensive for greater effects.
[X] Let's Not Put This Victory to Vain
If its coin based, would that mean that they're completely one use, or are there weaker coins that act like charms that give the user a prolonged if weaker effect? If we can use these coins like how runes can be attached or wielded on places like ships' hulls, I feel like that'd be a huge advantage to us. Imagine a coin of reinforcement wielded to our ship, then we can make our ships that much harder to ram while easier to break other ships without slowing down our own ship.