The Blade of Miquella

While our available turn options have ballooned—to account for turns shifting from hours to months—I think the structure remains pretty straightforward.

Malenia has Two actions she may take this turn from any category. An advisor may take One action from their specific field of expertise.

Our quests for Arc 2 are less associated with specific actions—mostly because it's simpler from an organizational standpoint that way—but they still have concrete endpoints.

Quest: Restore Elphael
You have addressed some of the most immediate concerns that plague your brother's city. That is not to say that Elphael is in a place to thrive. Far from it. Unfortunately, where your first set of actions was accomplished in a matter of days, truly restoring Elphael will be the work of months, perhaps even years
Success conditions:

1. More food is generated than consumed
2. All damage caused by lack of leadership is fixed
3. A source of construction and alchemistry materials is found

Quest: Secure Elphael
Your knights have removed the vilest of the pests that still plague Elphael, however with the Kindred of Rot slain, that just magnifies the threats that remain within the walls of Elphael. And that is to say nothing of the world outside the Haligtree. For your brother's city to thrive, it must be safe from threats that linger both within and without his great tree.
Success Conditions:

1. All remaining threats inside of Elphael dealt with
2. The lands around Elphael scouted for potential dangers
3. All major dangers in the Consecrated Snowlands dealt with

Turn Options

You sit at the head of a table—in truth one of the long tables that had been scavenged from an unused mess hall—and look around at the members of your burgeoning council. Maeve, her canine face pulled back in an eternally amused smirk sits to your left. On your right is Finlay's spectral form, her eyes fixed steadily on where her interlaced hands rest on the tabletop. Finally, on the opposite side of the dining table sits Loretta, her pale stare fixed on a point just past your shoulder.

"Our numbers are incomplete," you speak first, as is your right as interim lord of Elphael. "But it is not so easy to find the expertise we need to fill our council numbers as to poll those who reside within. Nevertheless, I believe that with some luck, I might be able to find ones whose service could yet improve our work."

"Beyond that, there is much and more I must do both to ensure the safety of Elphael and to begin following in Miquella's footsteps."


"As we currently have no one capable of serving as a diplomat, I will take upon myself such duties." You continue, "In addition to the misbegotten living in the branches of the Haligtree, there are almost certainly still tribes that wander the Snowfields. If we can entice them to join the city, it would go a long way to creating a workforce that could begin repairs of Elphael."


"Similarly, I will be responsible for oversight on repairs to Elphael and ensuring that there are sufficient resources available to undertake what tasks need to be done."


"Finally, we have matters of faith… for which I am a pale substitute of my brother."


You turn toward your Shadow, who meets your gaze, her pinwheel eyes spinning with a fond devotion. "Internal security, I believe can wait. Elphael is isolated enough that it will be some time before news of your awakening spreads, and longer still until agents of other powers can insert spies into our city. External security is where I would prefer to focus, mostly on scouting the lands nearby for threats and opportunities."


Finlay is next to speak, her voice carrying a certain spectral quality, "It is as Lady Maeve says, I believe we must begin looking outward into the Snowfields. Before that, however, there are still threats that linger in Elphael."

"First, a number of giant ants wander the upper branches of the Haligtree, disposing of which would provide some good training for both my knights and our soldiers." She pauses a moment before continuing, "More troublingly are both the rumors of a misshapen beast occupying a pool of rot somewhere in the depths and the handful of city blocks we've cordoned off to keep people away from the twisted Avatar of the Erdtree."


Finally, you turn to where Loretta sits across the table from you. She dips her head in a shallow bow and begins, "We have managed to salvage the most immediately important items from Lord Miquella's study, however, I believe that with a more careful review, we might uncover more. Beyond that, I would recommend collecting any books and tomes that exist elsewhere in Elphael. Alternatively, I could begin the codification of the Glintstone sorceries that I know."



[AN]
I think I caught everything, but there's a lot here so I may have missed something. Feel free to @ me if you have any questions or if things don't make sense.

-[] Welcome the misbegotten refugees of the Haligtree.


It was a truism of the world: when the strong spoke, the weak listened. While that somewhat grated upon your sensibilities, you had spent time—sometimes years on end—serving in just about every role an army had available to it, and so you understood the value of a singular voice of command.

You just found yourself loathe to use it. Especially when it centered around the many, many, people you had failed during your long slumber. Nevertheless, when you had asked to address the misbegotten refugees who had gathered in the high branches of the Haligtree, your request had been taken as a demand.

Even then, it had taken several days for news to travel up and down the tree and several more days for the various communities and villages to select representatives to attend your speech. The last delay before you could address these refugees, however, had been one of your own devising.

For the men and women willing to make the trek to hear your apology, it would come with a feast. But to not overly tax Elphael's reserves, you had disappeared for days on end into the wilds of the Consecrated Snowlands in search of the big game that dwelt within. Eventually, though, your preparations were completed, and shortly thereafter, the day for your speech arrived.


You stand at one end of the space that had once been Loretta's arena, watching as hundreds of misbegotten sit at tables laden down with roasted meats and vegetables as well as a wide variety of winter fruits and nuts. Knots of conversation form and dissolve with an ease that belies the far-flung and disparate communities represented at this feast.

It was strange. Abundance was your brother's nature. Acceptance his dream. Both of which you were merely borrowing. And yet, you couldn't deny the feeling in your chest as you watched these forsaken souls eat and be merry. It felt... warm.

A hush flows across the assembled crowd as you step out from the shadows cast by a branch of the Haligtree. You can see hands tightening on silverware and crude stone weaponry, but thankfully no one moves to violence.

Your voice rings out across the flagstone clearing. "When my brother founded Elphael and grew the Haligtree so that his city would always find shelter within its shade, he made a promise to the world. It was a promise to welcome all, regardless of the circumstances of their birth."

"We. No, I have not lived up to his promise," the truth of your words seems to reach out and engulf the entire arena, rendering all those within as still as stone. "You have braved hunger. The violence of those who would dare hunt you. Exposure wrought from frigid seas and even colder mountain paths. You endured indignity upon suffering upon hate to see for yourself the truth of the safety promised to you. And you found it wanting. Dying."

You bow at the waist, ignoring the strangled sounds from the crowd as well as the shame burning within you. Your ego could handle that much and more to make redress for your many failures. "I will make no promises to you. For you have seen first-hand the value of them. Instead, I would ask that you join me so that together we can make of Elphael a place that would live up to the dreams of those yet yearning for safety and freedom all across the Lands Between."

[Gained: Misbegotten refugees. See turn options for details.]


-[] Search for a new advisor
--[] Steward


You had known at the outset that finding someone capable of serving as your steward wouldn't be the simplest of tasks. Elphael was a place of respite for those cast out of society by the Golden Order. Omen, confined to the sewers beneath Lleyndell or hunted by vile omenkillers. Misbegotten, condemned to servitude, or slow death by starvation. Albinaurics, used as disposable troops until cast away for the slightest infirmity. All the many peoples discarded for the heresy of their birth.

Elphael had been built upon a noble ideal, one your brother had thought worth sacrificing the comfort of Lleyndell and the rank of his birth—and later a veritable ocean of his own blood spent in watering his Great Tree. Unfortunately, that noble ideal did not result in many of those educated in the schools and academies of the Golden Order seeking out the welcoming embrace of the Haligtree.

You had spent days ensuring that your needs and the needs of Elphael were elucidated to all who lived within its walls. And then weeks interviewing any who either thought themselves equal to the task or possessed of the ambition to reach beyond their current station.

Still, as the month had wended toward its end you had little and less to show for your efforts. At least until one cloud-covered day when something intriguing had arrived upon your desk. A messily scrawled note written on a bit of scrap paper that spoke of a curious refugee. A refugee with bright blonde hair and a certain noble demeanor.


You stare at the blonde in front of you. She was young. In appearance—though you were evidence enough of how deceiving that could be—but also in the ineffable quality those not yet worn down by the ennui of eternity seemed to possess. It reminded you of Maeve, all those centuries ago, when she had been but a pup: all nervous energy and long, coltish limbs.

Watching the girl fidget seemed to poke at that same feeling of holding a toy just out of a pet's reach so you could watch them jump for it. It was not a particularly merciful feeling. Fortunately for the girl, there was a reason for her being there, and so, you set aside amusement in favor of duty.

"You are Elodie?" Your voice pierces through the girl's nerves like the tip of a blade.

"Y-yes, I oh, apologies, Divine One." The girl drops to one knee and then lowers her head to the stone floor. "I am Elodie, El Marais."

"Rise, El Marias. You need not display such formality to me. " It had been some time since you'd seen this level of obeisance—probably since you'd left Marika's home, that bitch—and you accounted yourself better for it. "You may call me Malenia, or Lady Malenia if you prefer."

"Thank you, Div-, Lady Malenia." The girl slowly rises, but her eyes remain fixed upon the floor. "May, may I ask why you called for me, Lady Malenia?"

"House Marais once served as Marika's castellan for the lands in the northern marches of Lleyndell." Your voice softens in a way that you hoped would put the girl a bit more at ease. "I remember there was a man named Sebastien Marais with whom my brother found a kinship formed from their shared love of the applications of mathematics."

"Father," El's face twists with grief, and the story of how a scion of House Marais ended up in this frozen land unfolds in your mind. "He, I…"

You watch silently as tears spill down the girl's face, but there was little you could say in the face of grief over a lost father. While your brother had been close to Radagon, you had refused a similar affection. Even in your earliest memories, he had stank of zealotry and blind faith.

Eventually, her tears stop falling, something neither you nor she comments upon as she continues speaking. "Father. He, he taught me calculations and probabilities. When our- when I left I was able to save some of his notebooks about engineering and architecture."

That was more than you had hoped for. Far more. "If I were to ask you to oversee a project to remove the debris choking Elphael and effect repairs upon its more damaged streets, how would you begin?"

"To, to start with I would need to know the available resources, primarily supplies and workers. Then I would need a map, to plan out repairs such that no vital streets are blocked off without a detour available..."

A private smile forms on your face as you watch the girl's hesitance and grief fade in favor of solving the problem placed in front of her. While El Marias may have been young, youth was no barrier to excellence.



-[] Recruit Scouts
--[] Maeve


What does one look for when identifying someone with the potential to become a scout? Not one of the dull-eyed, listless fools that had made up Lleyndell's armies in ages past, but one fit to serve as Her eyes and ears. For none less than the most exceptional could ever be assigned such a duty.

That was the question Maeve had spent the last several days contemplating. At last, though, she had settled on several criteria, the most important of which was previous experience. Training scouts up to her own standards—let alone Hers—would be difficult enough, but to do it with truly green recruits… the very thought alone was enough to send a chill along her hackles.

Second on her list, and probably the most difficult trait to find, was situational awareness. An active state of observation that went beyond the cataloging of fact and began to make connections. Such as the connection between deepening ruts in a dirt road with an improvement in the arms and armor of a foreign entity.

Third was a thing made somewhat strange by the Queen-bitch's Golden Order. Sufficiency was an odd concept when permanent death no longer existed in the Lands Between. Still, just because the threat of death had lost much of its bite, hunger was still hunger and thirst still thirst. So those who could wander the frozen environs that surrounded Elphael and not succumb to cold and deprivation was a definite benefit.

There was a final consideration, and it was the real reason she was casually shadowing a trio of guards out on patrol. While she would be forever thankful to that ghost-bitch for rescuing Her, there were limits to how close Maeve could accept anyone else getting to Her. She had already been gifted all the shadow She would ever need, after all. So if Maeve could accomplish her task and poke at that uppity bitch at the same time… well, that was just good sense.


Your eyes rise from the book you were reading as a flicker of shadow crosses through the corner of your eye. You don't see the sharp, canine features of your Shadow as you glance around, but then you hardly need to see Maeve to know when she is nearby.

You gently fold your book closed and set it to one side. "This must be important to be worthy of interrupting Sei-i Taishōgun Kaito's conquest of the arboreal islands south of The Land of Reeds."

"Who cares about some long-dead general?" Your Shadow leans back against the worn upholstery of the couch you were currently occupying and pushes her legs up into your lap. "But no, I was just bored."

"And so you sought me out to alleviate said boredom?" Maeve's smirk only widens at your question. You sigh, a mixture of fondness and exasperation. "Did you not have a scout unit to assemble?"

"A trivial task, hardly worth mentioning." A delicate, clawed hand waves in a dismissive gesture. "Especially not when compared to how amazing your Shadow is."

"If my Shadow were truly amazing, I do not doubt that she'd have a successful report on the formation of a new scouting unit…" your voice carries a faint tone of something that no more than a handful—living or otherwise—would recognize as teasing.

Maeve was several centuries too old to pout effectively, though, the way her lower lip pushed out to reveal blade-sharp teeth made that rather difficult to tell. Still, that particular look was one you'd become inured to many years ago and it seemed that time apart had done little to reduce that resistance.

"Fine." You carefully conceal your triumphant smirk as she huffs in defeat and drops her head.

"Your people are blind and incurious." she scowls as though that failing was a personal affront. Given what you knew of your Shadow, she probably considered it so. "Even the ones who had to avoid all those giant ants wandering around the branches are little better."

"So you failed?" You tilt your head slowly to the side, eyes lidded and judging.

"What, No!" Maeve's exclamation fades into chagrin as a smirk widens across your face. "I mean it may have meant failure for a certain unnamed ghost knight, but not for a Shadow as talented as me."

"Oh?"

"Of course I succeeded." She tilts her head back in crude mimicry of Marika's overweening arrogance. That arrogant look lasts until you reach out with your mortal hand and tweak a pointed ear.

"Malenia, please."

You doubted that Maeve would ever willingly admit to the whimper you heard in her voice, but despite the urge to continue petting her, you oblige the request. "How long until they're ready?"

"A decade." your Shadow shrugs, a hint of amusement in her eyes as she sees your frown, and continues. "They could do with some training—a lot of training—but if I cut them loose in the Snowfields, I'd bet some of them would come back alive. A few might even have useful information."

"Hmm…," that sounded about as much as you could reasonably hope for, and given the standard she held such things to, you wouldn't be surprised if the squad she'd assembled was better than that. "In that case, would you like to hear about the Siege of the Coral Tides?"

"I'd rather go spar with your ghost-knight." Despite the acerbic tone, your Shadow makes no effort to move.

A soft smile crosses your face as you retrieve your book and open it back to where you had been before Maeve's interruption. "It was only in the third decade of Empress Tomoe's reign that ships sufficient to lay siege to the island fortress Coral Tides were assembled.."

[scout troupe gained. New actions unlocked.]


-[] Codify Glintstone Sorcery
--[] Loretta


There was a certain nostalgia to be found in sitting down amongst a stack of books and attempting to recreate some bits of Glintstone theory. Loretta hated it. It reminded her too much of Raya Lucaria. Of the cutthroat, frequently fatal, infighting between the Conspectus. The perverse experiments, oft performed on an unwary rival. Their betrayal of Queen Rennala.

No. There was little that she could find in the dry earthy aroma of old paper mixed with the faint scent of mildew that would trigger anything approaching fondness. But then, mayhap she need not recreate the casual violence of that worthless academy. Or rather she could rededicate that urge toward something productive. The Haima Conspectus was, before its ignominious fall, an adjudicator of law and an enforcer of peace.

There was another example she could draw from as well: the Carian Royal Knights. For though the order she had once led never numbered more than twenty it had instilled the virtues not just of sorcerous brilliance, but of justice and nobility as well within its members.

Yes. Perhaps that was the path to go. Reinvent instead of recreate. She could strip away the eldritch musings of Karolos, for research into the primeval current had ever offered little beyond another fool desperate to delve into arts forbidden even by the lax standards of the Academy. So too could she excise Olivinus, for the study of meteors led inevitably to the study of the beasts found within and from thence to the Obsidian Lords, with their far-reaching and inscrutable plans.

Instead, she could build a study of Glintstone focused on the research of the Haima Conspectus. Perhaps it would leave a would-be Glintstone sorcerer a bit poorer in esoteric knowledge, but a focus on the more applied arts of Glintstone sorcery would leave a practitioner far more martially capable than the average graduate of that useless academy.

To this more martial approach, she would add one last piece of Glintstone sorcery. An homage to her creator and former master. The Lazuli Conspectus. The arts of the full and new moon, to honor Queen Rennala and Lunar Princess Ranni.


You set down a sheaf of paper hastily bound by twine. There was a great deal of information contained in the tight, neat handwriting, but it all pointed to a singular goal. "You've chosen to focus on the martial applications of Glintstone sorcery…"

"Yes, Your Highness." Loretta's pale eyes stare at a point just past your shoulder. "It is my belief that the subordination of sorcery to the needs of Elphael is both just and in line with your desires."

"The threats to Elphael are many, and I can only be in but so many places." You muse more to yourself than to Loretta. "Still, given our current location, I wonder why you have decided not to include anything of the Astrologer's arts in your curriculum."

"The stars are…" the knight trails off, her eyes flickering as though physically searching for words. "Distant. Inscrutable. I believe that there are benefits to be gained from their study, but that must be tempered by caution and wisdom."

"Would you place similar limitations on other avenues of study?" Your question is more genuinely curious than leading. Miquella had dived deeply into the kind of lore that Loretta wanted to proscribe, but comparing your brother's gift to a sorcerer's blind flailing was truly laughable.

"For the time being, I believe any such limitations to be theoretical rather than practical. It will be years before anyone trained in the arcane or sorcerous arts will have both a sufficient breadth of knowledge and the mastery necessary to engage in that manner of research." Loretta's eyes harden as she continues. "But, if I am to continue upon this path of rebuilding the sorcerous knowledge of Raya Lucaria I will not allow its atrocities to be repeated."

It is as close as a direct challenge as could be made over a topic that was as yet theoretical, and your estimation of Loretta rises as she meets the pale gold of your stare with the moon-silver of her own. To stand on principle before a demigod, one who could not just cut her down in the blink of an eye, but infect her with a Rot that would steal from her all that she was—her mind and hopes and dreams—was impressive.

You let your eyes bore into hers, testing, in that moment, the truth of the resolve within the knight yet the steel within her remains unbent. Your brother had always been able to account himself fortunate in regards to the character of those that served him, and it seemed that a mote of that grace had fallen to you as well.

"Very well, Loretta." You accept the demand with a graceful nod. "Leash the arts and insight of the careless and the obsessed and build with it something that will serve Elphael rather than itself."


-[] Cleanse Farmland
--[] Finlay, Soldiers


Finlay stares, lips pursed in a frown rather more suited for someone within whose body blood still flowed, rather than the spirit body she currently inhabited. At least an imbalance of the humors would explain the mixture of annoyance and frustration and… failure that burned in her chest.

Clearing out an infestation of giant ants should have been a simple assignment. Something Finlay had volunteered for both because she understood the necessity of reclaiming the fallow land and also because she knew it was what her Lady wanted. A simple task to aid in the reconstruction of Elphael and earn her Lady's approval, and now it was fucked. All fucked.

The last few weeks had been going so well too. It had started when she and her knights had finally finished whittling down the scores of would-be monster slayers into a single squad that would be the—heavily chaperoned—spear on their giant-ant-slaying activities. It had gotten even better as her squad of soldiers, led by Sir Cai, had begun making steady progress in clearing out some of the ant-infested branches where once farms had grown. When they had finally reached Brannoch Fork, the intersection of several hundred-yard-wide branches that had once served as the breadbasket for Elphael and the surrounding settlements it had seemed like success stacked upon success stacked upon success. All for naught.


"Never seen one even a third that big… reckon it must be a queen or something, right?" If looks could burn, Cai would be a pile of ash and charred flesh.

Alas, the weight of her ire lacked the physical potency of her Lady. And so she could only respond to the flippant question with a sigh. "Sir Cai."

"Well, it sure seems like it's having a bit of a field day tearing at those huge red mushrooms doesn't it?"

Cai's smirk had an edge of mocking amusement to it that on another day she would have tried to put a blade through. Even as her hand twitched toward the spear tied to her back, Finlay decided to let it go. Mostly because if she didn't, she wouldn't stop until he was dead. And depending upon how her Lady would take the news, she might just need him. As a scapegoat.

Well, if she couldn't needle Cai with a spear, words would have to do. "And what do you think our Lady would have to say about you awakening a truly giant ant and its subsequent rampage throughout our erstwhile farmland?"

"Oh well… hmm…" Cai trails off, chewing at the inside of his cheek in what might have passed for thought for the fool. "I bet she'd enjoy killing it at least."


[Major threat found: giant ant matriarch. Must be dispatched before farming can commence.]



[AN]
Turn options will be up tomorrow.

I'm not entirely sure how I feel about the turn results having a bit of narrative summary at the top followed by a scene at the bottom. On the one hand, I think it helps show a character's personality and motivation in a way I really can't from within Malenia's POV. On the other, it's very expository in nature.

On a different note, I didn't include a lore section here because it would likely bloat this chapter another 1 - 2k words. That said, feel free to point out anything that you think could use some extra explanation. I'll either edit this or answer in thread.

Malenia has Two actions she may take this turn from any category. An advisor may take One action from their specific field of expertise.

New / revised info in green

Quest: Restore Elphael
You have addressed some of the most immediate concerns that plague your brother's city. That is not to say that Elphael is in a place to thrive. Far from it. Unfortunately, where your first set of actions was accomplished in a matter of days, truly restoring Elphael will be the work of months, perhaps even years
Success conditions:

1. More food is generated than consumed
2. All damage caused by lack of leadership is fixed
3. A source of construction and alchemistry materials is found

Quest: Secure Elphael
Your knights have removed the vilest of the pests that still plague Elphael, however with the Kindred of Rot slain, that just magnifies the threats that remain within the walls of Elphael. And that is to say nothing of the world outside the Haligtree. For your brother's city to thrive, it must be safe from threats that linger both within and without his great tree.
Success Conditions:

1. All remaining threats inside of Elphael dealt with
2. The lands around Elphael scouted for potential dangers
3. All major dangers in the Consecrated Snowlands dealt with

Turn Options

"Thank you, El," you tip a glass of ice-cold water in her direction. "For setting up this council room for us, and for clearing out some of the chambers in the governor's palace."

The blonde covers a slight flush with a dip of the head that sends strands of pale hair down to cover her face. "I, my father always taught me that the presentation of a thing could be as important as the thing itself so…"

"Well, I can't complain about the setup," Your Shadow offers a fanged sort of grin. "But if you need the extra space I can always sleep with Malenia."

You reach out and flick her ear, ignoring both her pout and the pair of scandalized looks sent your way. At least Loretta was sensible enough to ignore her. "No, Maeve. You snore."

"I do not."

You let the squawked protest from your Shadow pass in favor of getting started. "It was a sign of Grace that I was able to find El, and while we will still need both a spiritual leader and a diplomat, their continuing absence may be a more long-term concern."

"Beyond that," you let your prosthetic arm fall to rest on the dark wood of the council table. "There are a growing number of threats to the safety and stability that have well overstayed their welcome."


"With the refugees having agreed to join with Elphael, I expect that they will begin trickling into the city proper over the next few months. Once that migration is done, it may make sense to take a census of those who moved and those who chose to remain in settlements amidst the Haligtree. That said, I do not see much immediate need for either internal or external diplomatic actions."


You turn toward El who avoids your stare by looking down at a sheaf of papers annotated by an unfamiliar cipher. "Food is not critical. Not yet, at least, but as our population increases, so too will our consumption. Farming will alleviate that in the long term, but we may need to supplement that with foraging missions into the snowlands in the short term. I will be able to say more once I get a better handle on our population growth."


"Belief may not be as important as food, but it still matters," you muse once El has finished her report, "more so in Elphael than in other places. Lleyndell has Marika's Order support the spirit of its citizens. Elphael has no belief other than the rejection of that Order. If left alone too long it is almost a guarantee that some malign entity will attempt to take advantage."


Maeve still seems to be pouting over your comment that she snores—though how she could refute such a thing was beyond you—but she manages to perk up enough to offer her input. "We've got scouts. They're about as good as you'd expect them to be. If they're deployed somewhere nearby, I can be around enough to keep the worst from happening, but if you want to learn anything about the world around us, I'll need to whip them into shape first."


Finlay doesn't move when it is her turn to speak. She hadn't moved since she first sat down in the seat to your right. You reach out with your mortal hand and touch her shoulder, "the ant matriarch awakening is a setback, but I'd rather it have been found while you and my knights were there rather than defenseless citizens."

"Thank you, My Lady." Your knight doesn't relax even a little bit. The shame of her self identified failure still burning strong despite your attempt. "Assign me and my soldiers to the task and we will make amends for this setback. We will kill that ant, or die trying."


Last to report is Loretta, who tilts her head in acknowledgment as your attention turns to her. "I would continue the codification of Glintstone sorcery. What I have been able to assemble so far is the most fundamental aspects of spell theory. It will take several more months for me to convert those building blocks into something with practical applications."



[AN]
I think that's everything. As an aside, if you there's an action you'd like to see, or one you think is missing, let me know and I'll try to include it.

-[] Personally patrol the Haligtree. It is almost certain that various threats have made themselves at home in Miquella's city. It would be a trivial task to put them to the sword. On success: eliminate all major threats from the Haligtree.


Slaying a giant ant matriarch was not a thing worthy of song, or even any true amount of recognition. At least for one such as you. Nevertheless, you were your brother's sword. And with his absence, you would also be the sword that protected his city.

So it was that you found yourself amidst the ruins of Brannoch with the dawning light of the Erdtree casting its pale glow across the land. As you step across a metaphysical boundary of Fog, you see your target, its head cradled upon a pile of shattered bones. Surrounding it are dozens of pearlescent eggs, some no larger than your hand and others that reach up to shoulder height on you. A frown flickers across your face before vanishing beneath an emotionless mask of focus. It had been busy.

Your Hand flickers, snicker-snack. You begin to run, your feet gliding across the bone-strewn battlefield without disrupting the smallest of shards. Your opponent deserves not the majesty of your Dance. It deserves naught but death. And the consecrated runes your brother had painstakingly etched upon your Hand would deliver it.

The ant's angular head rises ponderously from its slumber as it hears the sound of your sword. As it feels its approaching doom. It has the chance to do naught more than that before unalloyed gold carves a foot-deep trench between its multifaceted eyes.

Strike delivered, you shift back, avoiding a spray of caustic ichor. You watch, grim satisfaction on your face as the ant thrashes about, its frenzied flailing destroying the many hundreds of eggs it had labored so to create. Soon though, the vitality to even do that fades until all that remains is the reflexive twitching of an antenna as the ant succumbs to death.

A dozen strands of Rot unspool from within you, reaching out across the ground around you until it touches upon those few egg sacs that had avoided the ant's dying panic. In moments, all that remains is a sludge of protein and nutrients, a fitting fate for one who would disrupt your attempts to see your people fed and safe.


You stand over the shattered corpse of the corrupted Avatar that had claimed an abandoned section of your brother's city as its lair. In better times, an Avatar was a guide. One who dispensed both the wisdom and grace of the Erdtree. It had been an age since it could have been considered a better time. Not since Marika had shattered the Elden Ring. And as the world around it had changed, so had the Avatar changed with it.

For years uncounted, it seemed the Avatar had supped upon the dying energies of the Haligtree. And in its endless consumption, it had brought within its sap-like blood the taint of Rot. And so, it had to die. As a mercy to what the guardian had once been and for the safety of those who dwelt within your brother's city.

Tendrils of Rot begin to unspool from within the corpse of the Avatar, oozing and slick along bark-like flesh. The Full Moon passes across the sky twice before you finish your delicate task, but by the end, a pearl of putrescence sits on the ground alongside a, once again, untainted Avatar of the Erdtree.

You sigh and reach toward that putrid remnant—it could not be allowed to stay, lest it continue its corrupting influence—and let it flow into you. What was another drop of Rot to one whose soul contained an ocean?


You could feel the twisted presence of a tree-spirit sunk deep within the pond of Rot, and yet despite your efforts, you cannot find it. Or draw it to the surface. And while there are things you could do to force it to the surface, they are not the acts of one who would call themselves a protector of Elphael.

It reminded you of the time Miquella had taken you fishing. A day spent staring at a body of… liquid… and waiting for something to surface. Unlike that halcyon memory, you have neither the idle days to while away nor the presence of your brother to make the time more bearable. For now, you would have people stay away from the pond—though given the presence of the Rot, you probably didn't need to say anything—and perhaps you'd get lucky and have a chance to kill it in the future.

[all major threats defeated (or quarantined). Options to finally deal with the tree-spirit locked behind ***]


-[] Prepare farmland. Once farms dotted the thicker boughs of the Haligtree. Now they are covered in Rot and giant ants. Your soldiers may resolve both of those issues, but even once that is complete, it will require an attentive hand to ensure that the farms can be successfully restored. Cost: 100 construction. On success: subsistence farms created (+50 food per turn). Requires: Personally patrol the Haligtree or Destroy a major threat (giant ant matriarch)
--[] Elodie, Soldiers


There was something almost meditative in developing the plans and schedules necessary to turn several hundred acres of land into farmland. That those farms would be located atop branches of a tree that stretched, in some cases, nearly a thousand spans in width, did add some complications to said plans. Things like soil and irrigation and retainment had to be solved, but then again that was the same for every farm.

No, if El had to point at a particular reason as to why her heart fairly trilled with nervous anxiety, it would have nothing to do with the task set before her. It had everything to do with the one who assigned that task.

How else was El supposed to take a request from the being she had worshipped as a goddess for as long as she could remember other than with a burning determination combined with the thrumming fear that her best would not be enough? Not that she well and truly feared censure or anything like that. But to see the understanding acceptance of Lady Finlay's failures with the farmlands last month turned toward her seemed a fate worse than death.

Fortunately, it seemed highly unlikely that El would fail in her appointed task. Her goddess had taken it upon herself to dispatch any threats that prowled their future farmlands and Lady Finlay had graciously offered her soldiers as support for the heavy labor required to settle the land. All that was left to her was to set up an overarching plan. And see it through.


It was several days after you dispatched the ant matriarch before you found yourself back in Brannoch Fork. But when you did, there was little sign that it had once been home to a giant ant colony.

You watched in idle amusement as one group of workers would drag a plow down a length of soil. Then a second group would come by with bags of seeds that they would carefully plant into the freshly tilled soil. Finally, a third group would come by with water and buckets of some aromatic fertilizer. All in all, it looked like the workings of a seasoned and well-trained group rather than what it was: a team that had been assembled less than a month ago.

"Lady Melania!" The architect of Brannoch's revitalization appears in a rush, dirt smeared liberally across her clothes and face. "I. That is if I had known you were coming-"

You cut off the increasingly panicked rambling with a gentle smile, "It looks like things are going well."

"It's still early yet, but thanks to you and Lady Finlay, I think we'll be able to beat our projections for our first harvest." El beams with pride before blinking twice and starting to wipe discreetly at the dirt on her face.

"Enough that we won't be running at a loss going forward?" You let your eyes flicker away from El and out over the rapidly transforming farmland.

"Without the appropriate spellcraft, I think we'll still fall a good bit short," your steward's face falls for a moment before brightening, "but with the ants all gone, I think there's some land nearby that we could develop next if that is your wish."

[+60 food per turn]


-[] Establish a way to spread the teachings of unalloyed gold. Unalloyed gold is your brother's philosophy. One which he extended to such limits that it could even curve the excesses of those godlike beings who dwell beyond the stars. It would be a perfect thing for those cut adrift by Marika's Golden Order to take succor within. On success: improves morale, unlocks new turn actions. Requires: apprentice level Golden Order (rank 2 of 5)


To understand the nature of the Golden Order, one must first understand the nature of gold. This raises a question though: why gold? What is it about the metal that lends itself to the creation of both a school of incantations and also the prostheses your brother had crafted for you? Was there something inherent in gold that reflected something of the divine? And if that was the case, why did unalloyed gold also inhibit the influence of malign star-faring entities?

Those were some of the questions that began to percolate within your mind as you sat down with your brother's journals. They were also questions that you almost immediately realized were far beyond both your own understanding of the Golden Order and your brother's notes—at least the parts of it that you could understand.

So, for the moment at least, you would force yourself to set aside these larger philosophical questions and focus instead on something you could accomplish: providing the many souls that dwelt beneath the Haligtree something to believe in.


"In metallurgy, the alloying of metals results in something more than the sum of its parts."

It was odd, to stand in front of a crowd and speak upon matters of philosophy and religion to which you had never devoted much attention or care. Moreso when you see the faces of these hundreds of beings focused upon you with an intensity that you had only ever devoted to the sword—and Miquella. It was a discomforting sort of sensation to act as sage and guide for these desperate souls. Especially as the role settles around your shoulders like an ill-fitting cloak.

None of this you allow to show on your face, however. For whatever it is these men and women have come in search of, you will give to them as best you are able.

"It is a refinement by the mixing of disparate properties. In the Golden Order, we see this expressed in Marika's politics. Those whose strength could be added to the Golden Order and thereby increase its might are welcomed. Fortissax and Lansseax. The Crucible Knights. The Guardians of the Erdtree. In the mixing of all their strengths was Lleyndell made mighty. But those to whom strength was not granted, the Golden Order offers no succor."

There is not a sound save for your voice. The crowd before you could just have easily been carved from stone as flesh and blood. This. This more than anything else was not your place. Even had it not been your brother's realm, it would have never been yours. You stifle the urge to look away from the fervor burning in front of you and continue.

"But gold transformed by the addition of a thousand other metals is gold no longer. Instead, draw strength from the gold within you. Whether tarnished beyond recognition or aglow with fire and light, it matters not. For it is still gold and no one. Not I. Not Marika herself can take that from you."

No cheer rises in response to your words. This isn't a battlefield and the souls in front of you are not your soldiers, to be sent to fight and die. And yet, you feel the same stirring of emotion within them as you did that fateful day in Aeonia.

[Morale +5. Score still unknown.]


-[] Scout Elphael. "There are still unexplored areas within Elphael itself—notably the upper branches of the Haligtree as well as the depths of the undercity. While we could let the guards blunder about and awaken anything that remains sleeping, my scouts could investigate without any troublesome rampaging. On success: explores identified location, higher rolls = better rewards.
--[]Upper Branches
--[]Maeve


The upper branches were home to a number of small communities, that much Maeve had known before she'd even set paw to her task. What she hadn't expected was just how many of them there were. Nor how far-flung they were. Nor how largely uninterested they were in joining Her growing city. That last one had been near cause for a bit of genocidal violence—no one should be allowed to reject Her beneficence and live to speak of it.

Alas, between the sheer size of the Haligtree combined and her desire to provide Her with a thorough report on every community still clinging like mold to Her tree, the violence had been forced to wait. Besides, She would probably not approve of Her Shadow returning to Her drenched in the blood of those She intended to save.


Maeve flops gracelessly down onto the chair sat opposite your desk as you finish writing out a note on the fundamental nature of gold. It was the metal of choice for both your brother and Miquella's Orders, after all, and there must have been a reason why. Finding that reason would have to wait for later, though, for while your Shadow was many things, patient was not one of them.

"Do you think that gold was chosen by Marika intentionally or is it more a matter of self-serving arrogance to relate it to her rule?" Your eyes lift from your notes, and the clawed hand that Maeve was beginning to dig into the lacquered wood of her chair stills instantly.

"With that bitch, I'd bet on the latter," she shrugs indifferently before blowing out a huff of air. "Is that how you greet your Shadow as she returns triumphantly from scouting out the countless leagues of Haligtree branches?"

"Should it not be? After all, is scouting out a tree truly so great an achievement?" Your voice lilts mockingly.

You bury a smirk as Maeve's face twists into a pout. "Such gratitude. And after I've spent the last month grinding my claws to the nubs running up and down the Haligtree."

"Hmm…" you let the complaining pass without comment. If something were wrong, she'd have said so by now. "How are things?"

"I could use a bath and someone to brush my fur," you stare blankly as your Shadow leers and eventually she sighs.

"Truly no gratitude." She mumbles, quietly, but clearly intending you to hear it nonetheless. "There's a few score of settlements, ranging from a dozen or so people to one near mid-way up that's home to several hundred people. It'd have taken far more time than I had available to figure out why they decided not to accept your offer of joining Elphael, but I can mark the larger locations if you ever find a diplomat."

"Anything else of interest?" If there were any more threats like the ant matriarch you dispatched a few days prior, you wanted to know.

Maeve shakes her head. "If there's anything up there that could hide from my nose, we won't find it until we're on top of it."

"I suppose that'll have to do."

In truth, the branches were a rather distant concern. The current population of Elphael fit easily enough into the parts of the city least worn down by time and neglect. And once El got around to clearing out some of the worst of the wreckage, the amount of liveable area would double. To say nothing of how much space there would be once the city was finally returned to what it had once been. Beyond that, you had no issue with the people who dwelt in the higher layers of your brother's tree and wanted to retain their independence.

[no major threats detected, new actions unlocked.]


-[] Assign soldiers to non-combat tasks. "Our most pressing concern is to ensure that Elphael is liveable. To that end, my soldiers could be assigned to aid in ongoing reconstruction efforts, farming, or similar activities. Anything where more hands are needed." Tag soldiers to a stewardship action to receive a bonus to the roll itself and potentially to the magnitude of the result (if successful).
--[] Finlay

Finlay stares out over a balustrade and down at the roiling sea far beneath her. In the days after she had returned her Lady to the safety of the Haligtree, it had felt like a triumph. Like victory.

But then days had turned to weeks to months to years. Throughout it all, her Lady had remained in slumber. And as she had, that feeling had slowly curdled.

She couldn't exactly say when it was that the color of her world had faded to shades of gray. Nor could she say exactly when she had retreated to a forgotten corner of Elphael, hidden from everyone, even fellow knights. It had all felt so hopeless. So pointless.

Her lady slept and the city around her crumbled. The legacy they had all joined hands to build withering away in front of her. A flicker of disgust washes across spectral features.

She had succumbed to that despair. Finlay could accept that. And at the time it had even seemed like a welcomed choice. Without flesh and blood and touches of humors, she would no longer have to drown in that morass of feeling. At least that had been her belief.

The truth had been somewhat different. All the regrets and grief of her life carried on into her death. Yet even the grayness of her not-life would have been bearable. Except.

Her Lady had fought through her own grief and despair and emerged on the other side, not whole, but far more than she was. And all she wanted now was to stand at her side again to share in the joys and triumphs once again. To bask in her light.

Finlay glances down at the spectral flesh of her hands. Now mocking her with their translucent glow.

Alas.


-[] Codify Glintstone Sorcery. "It has been years since I attended Raya Lucaria, and it would take years to truly replicate the successes of that fickle academy. However, I can begin to craft the rudiments of a curriculum. On success: Increase Glintstone sorcery by one rank (currently 1 of 5). This action is repeatable.
--[] Loretta


Pale blue currents of Glintstone sorcery flicker and warp around Loretta, pulsing in time to the beat of her heart. She lashes out, not so much in spellcraft but in an explosion of wrath. The flames greedily consuming the rooms she had requisitioned for her library prove no match for the azure of her anger, but that hardly matters. Not when compared to the smell of burnt paper and the sight of so much priceless knowledge reduced to ash.

Whoever did this will die screaming.

The promise echoes in her head, engulfing conscious thought, even as her body moves like a marionette to salvage whatever she can.


[] Loretta will painstakingly reconstruct every scrap of knowledge in her burgeoning library. (Will tap Loretta for the next 2 turns. On success: library returned to its pre-burnt state.)

[] Loretta will find the perpetrators of this act of sacrilege. (Will tap Loretta for the next 1 turn. On success: the cause of the fire is determined.)

[] Loretta will work with El to ensure that this can never happen again. (Will tap Loretta for 1 turn and El for 1 turn. Costs 200 Construction resources. On success: library with fire controls constructed.)

[] Loretta will do nothing. (all library progress lost.)

[AN]
I had meant to get this out sooner but ended up playing a lot of Rogue Trader instead. So it goes.