[X][Child] Actually be a proper father
[X][Main] Study Alchemy
[X][Secondary] War Mission- Hathatyn
[X][Secondary] War Mission- Hathatyn x2
Provinces – [Main] Expand Econ, [Sec] Study Stars, [Sec] New Trails, [Sec] Study Metal
Stallions – [Main] Build Chariots, [Sec] Build Watchtowers, [Sec] Trade Mission - North
Western – [Main] Build Wall, [Main] New Settlement, [Sec] Build Wall
Greenshore – [Main] Expand Econ, [Sec] Trade Mission – Metal Workers, [Sec] Trade Mission – Trelli
Hatriver – [Main] Expand Warriors, [Main] War Mission – Hathatyn
Rulhuthyn stared down into his own heart and came to the conclusion that if he abandoned his daughter, if he could not accept the consequences of his own folly, then he was unworthy of being king. He would raise Rulwyna as best he could, even as he tried to deal with all the problems of a king at war...
Also, now that he thought about it, he should make sure that Lolwyna was given more resources so that she would be occupied and wouldn't be tempted to follow him south. He had been enough of a fool around her as it was, no need to tempt himself further.
Years Later...
The fighting in Hatriver was distinctly unpleasant, in that there were two modes: infiltrating small parties through the hills, and straight, brutal linear fighting through the valleys. The People generally exceeded the Hathatyn in skill of the first, and had superior equipment to exceed their foes in the second, but it was not a pleasant experience. In large part that was because the People had built their forces for generations around chasing nomads, on maneuver and counter-maneuver to force too fast moving forces to actually come into contact favourably. The strategic pushing contests of the Hathatyn were foreign to the people, and the leaders of the Hatriver warriors suffered for that. Had the king not shown up in force it was likely that they would have lost a considerable number of warriors in the first few clashes, but as it was superior leadership and bolstered numbers kept catastrophe at bay, and the king began to push the enemy back, even as the Highlanders ate away at their flanks.
Somewhere in the grind of it all, a new sight was seen upon the battlefields. Long hair bleached white with lime and then dyed red with ochre became a banner of oncoming death and destruction, soon accompanied by whistling and shrieking war cries and the thunder of hooves.
Whenever the People and the Hathatyn clashed and the warriors of the People started to falter, the mad teenage girl would come with orders from the elderly but still vigorous king, to help turn the tide of battle. And she truly was mad, having somehow got in on the insane practice of horseback riding early, her size meaning that when on one of the horses that had been successfully conditioned to not go insane when a human was on its back she could actually ride for extended periods without exhausting the animal quickly. There were a number of other young, small women who had discovered that the king was extremely glad to have these sorts of people available to quickly run priority messages - a single horse was simply faster and more agile than a chariot, so while fighting remained a fantasy, the decision to allow for rodeos was already paying enormous dividends. While it was fairly obvious that the king wasn't exactly happy with his daughter running towards active battles, but her presence both turned many individual actions from losses to some form of success, and many claimed that she was an incarnation of a primordial entity like Gwy or Bytah and to attempt to rein her in was foolish anyway. Not yet an adult and she had soaked up the lessons of her father and his advisors like a sponge, and was already able to make cogent arguments in battle, policy, and theology, even if she wasn't able to win the majority of these arguments.
Yet.
What the king did try to do was ensure that she was as well protected as possible, which given her actions as a horse courier meant that the king was constantly trying to find the biggest, strongest horses for her to ride so that they wouldn't be tired when he made her and her horses wear the strongest armour that could be made available. He was constantly annoying the smiths, asking for ever better scales of iron to drape across his wild daughter, and they sort of kept up, but ultimately the challenge was for the most part beyond them. Compromises had to be made, but many were interested in the advances being made.
Honour of Elites -> Best of the Best
Whether in war or in art, the People want only the best, damn the costs
Pros: Increase Martial gain from raising elite units, bonus Art and Mysticism for certain actions
Cons: Increased potential Martial loss in fighting, increased social stratification, increased costs
The small, sharp world that Rulwyna had lived in was abruptly opened up one day when one of her "sister" riders arrived from the core territories with urgent news for the king, and her.
"Sir, I have news of Lolwyna," the young woman said upon being admitted to the command tent where they were stationed, drawing the attention of white haired father and red haired daughter.
Taking the roll of parchment handed to him, Rulhuthyn quickly read over it before his eyes went wide and he just sort of stopped. Not died or collapsed, just sort of sat down and looked off into the distance. Taking the scroll from her father's limp fingers, Rulwyna looked at it and found news that her mother had done something in her studies that had resulted in either the gods smiting her or demons getting loose, because the compound where she worked looked like it had been struck by lightning repeatedly. The woman herself was barely alive at the time of the messenger leaving, burned in strange and terrible ways by the magic she delved too deeply into. Whether she was still alive, or would live long enough for them to get back, was unknown but doubtful.
As she finished reading the report, Rulhythyn said numbly, "We she go see her..."
Rulwyna frowned at this. Her mother was something of a stranger to her, having only been encountered a few times in trips back to Valleyhome from Hatriver, the older woman barely more than a stranger most of the time. Their most intimate interaction had been a theological argument over whether or not male energy was fundamentally 'hot' or 'dry' and how in the reorientation of elements she was conceiving this would arrange masculine and feminine properties. Both agreed that fire was a male element, but beyond that it was all argumentation that only priests could keep up with. As such, Rulwyna couldn't even say that she was particularly moved by the news, other than perhaps a sense of loss at the fact that she would never have the sort of relationship with her mother that most others could claim.
Actually, more pointedly, she noticed just how old her father seemed at this moment. Over sixty now, most days he remained the vigorous warrior and leader of men, but in this moment he was a lost old man, filled with regret and lacking direction.
Rulwyna nodded and said to him, "The rainy season comes soon anyway, the campaigning season will end and it will be up to the Blackbirds to do the fighting for the rest of the year anyway."
Even as she got the advisors around them to begin helping and sorting out the preparations, Rulwyna's mind was racing with thoughts of what to do next. Born with a naturally keen mind and raised in an environment that had sharpened it immensely, she had the feeling that her father's days were numbered and that she should start seriously considering her options. The gods seemed displeased with her father, bringing unstable but torrential rains that had ruined fields and crops and brought strife to farms and cities, although not as terrible as ancient legends said they could become. Among the many causes for this displeasure was most certainly her father's continued sponsorship of her mother and the impropriety of it, which put her at the intersection of a number of her parent's enemies hit list. She had figured out that she needed her own power against these sorts of actors before she was ten, and knew that when her father passed she would mostly be on her own.
Unbeknownst to him, at some point she had stopped riding just for the thrill of it and to help him and the People, but also to build contacts and relationships with warriors. If needed, she could pull a few strings and turn this war to her advantage, blazing her own path forward. She obviously wouldn't start off in charge of anything, but she knew that she would make a great symbol to those she fought with. Then there was the news of the youngest son of the king of the Highlanders, who had been assigned the task of holding off the Hathatyn and had managed to reverse some of their gains. A "diplomatic mission" to the Highlanders could be arranged, and new allies against her enemies could be found, especially given how much they had in common with fighting the Hathatyn. And if she got really desperate, she could also run north to the nomadic tribes who had recently made a tentative contact with the Stallions, who had decided not to attack but instead send out traders. Lucky break, considering that these tribes were a confederation of nomads founded by a survivor of the tribes scattered to the east by the northerners, who had sought revenge and achieved it, but had also forgotten who exactly the 'Salt People' were. Not exactly the preferred place to run, but she figured that if things got bad she could find a place there with her horse riding skills.
Or... thinking over the message again, Rulwyna wondered at what power her mother had discovered. Rulwyna often had trouble with keeping up with her mother's ideas, but that was from lack of experience rather than mental acuity, and she knew that most other shamans and priests could not follow along because of lack of interest in pursuing the strange ideas. If she disappeared for a time into her mother's work, could she grasp what divine wrath that had struck her down and turn that against her enemies? Plus, if she did that, she might not send her father to an early grave, or bring strife to the People if others decided she was attempting to cultivate dangerous foreign ties.
Choose a path...
[] Forge a new path of war
[] Begin diplomacy with the Highlanders
[] Run away to the north
[] Attempt to finish her mother's work
