A Destiny in Bronze (Bronze Age Fantasy)
- Thread starter paebel
- Start date
- Mature Fantasy
[X] Insist that others can lead the retreat. You are a Blooded woman of significant skill. You will help buy time for the civilians to retreat.
Thats were taking more combat skills wouldve helped
Thats were taking more combat skills wouldve helped
Solarstream
It's all in the cards
- Location
- Zombie World
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Agree to retreat to the north, with the bulk of the civilian population of Marad. The city itself is doomed, best to deny resources to the enemy.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Agree to retreat to the north, with the bulk of the civilian population of Marad. The city itself is doomed, best to deny resources to the enemy.
47--Sacrifice II
- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
[X] Agree to retreat to the north, with the bulk of the civilian population of Marad. The city itself is doomed, best to deny resources to the enemy.
Ugh. This wasn't really hard to write and I think it came out alright, but I've been finding myself really distractible lately. I checked the day and realized I hadn't updated for a bit, went "I should really get on that" and then... forgot and did the same thing again today. Feel free to ask Puabi any questions you think might get an answer and I'll get to them.
Ugh. This wasn't really hard to write and I think it came out alright, but I've been finding myself really distractible lately. I checked the day and realized I hadn't updated for a bit, went "I should really get on that" and then... forgot and did the same thing again today. Feel free to ask Puabi any questions you think might get an answer and I'll get to them.
"Very well," you agree with Eliezer. You remember your history and law lessons: the people are the most important thing, not the land. And... you also remember the vision you saw in the smoke.
It seemed likely that the remnants of the Protectorate would prove very important. Best to see them as safe as can be. The words of your grandfather echoed in your mind: mercy is never misplaced.
You can only hope that mercy may be found for the refugees.
You have some time to yourself before the evacuation. You briefly consider finding Jacob and informing him of the plan but soon decide against it. The two of you may have come to an accord but it doesn't change a simple fact: Jacob is an ass, and you'd much prefer to be doing something else.
Like interrogating your teacher. You haven't had the opportunity to process it. First, the simple knowledge of what comes had weighed upon your mind. Then it had been the sacrifice at the Temple and your final decision. You have learned some startling facts.
The first, and most important of which, is that your teacher is not human. And neither are you.
You find yourself following Puabi to her quarters. She doesn't seem surprised at this and ushers you inside. Before you can begin, however, she speaks.
"You certainly have questions, I know. But know that I cannot speak on some things and others I will not. Some, because they are dangerous to you, others because they are not my secrets to tell, and yet others because I am bound not to speak. With that out of the way: ask your questions, and I will answer."
The first question is obvious.
"You aren't human," you say.
"And neither are you," Puabi replies. "What you are is complicated and best not spoken of, except in your grandfather's own place of power."
"Then what are you?" you demand.
"I walked alongside Zepa in ancient days. There are many of us, what most would call Melachim, dwelling alongside your people."
"And my grandfather? Is he one as well?"
Puabi's face looks confused for the first time.
"Now that is a very good question. I truthfully don't know what he is, save not what I had first thought. The only ones that might have known are long gone from this world, giving of themselves to bind the Sea for a time."
An interesting answer, if not especially useful.
"And... my grandmother, Naomi?"
Women were not supposed to share in the gifts of the Prophet's Blood. Longevity, strength, endurance, intellect--none were especially blessed, until recently. Yet she had still lived for several centuries and looked thirty years at the very most.
"No. She's completely human. She and your grandfather met in their youth, and he has expended a not inconsiderable amount of his spirit to sustain her life. To the best of my knowledge, he has never taken another lover."
An oddity for your society. The especially powerful and Blooded men were expected to wed many wives and father many sons. Though monogamy wasn't exactly unheard of, either; your own father had only the one wife, and had never remarried after her death.
"Regardless, it is time that you prepare for the journey. You will see few real enemies, I think, perhaps a token force of Bnaimokt."
It only took a moment to find Jacob. Out of all the Presences you feel in the city, his is the second largest. He is in a small training yard, sparring with a dozen guards at once. You take a moment to observe him.
You hate to admit it, but he's skilled. More so than yourself. It seems extremely clear that winning the duel with him had been a fluke. He doesn't use the advantage of his Blooded strength or speed in the spar.
No, he simply uses his skill and reflexes. His spear seems to be perfectly positioned to deflect what his shield cannot block. It snakes out for a 'lethal' blow against one man, and the man falls to the ground to play dead. You realize he will provide an obstacle for the other men and Jacob as they fight.
You see your fellow Zepathan weave between strikes and deftly step around the "corpse" of the first man. It isn't long before another follows, and then another, and then it's only a matter of moments. Jacob catches the final man in a beautiful parry and 'skewers' him through.
Through the spar you consider your own abilities. You have gained a strange sense of the future. How useful might it be in a fight? Throughout, you had seen images preceding the actions of Jacob and the soldiers. They had followed the images closely. You estimate you had an extra second or so to react.
You think that defeating Jacob in a duel would be simple now. He's still larger, stronger, faster, and more skilled than you. But the advantage your senses provide cannot be underestimated. It's a strange feeling, to grow so much as a warrior in a single moment, and through such non-traditional means.
"Do you need something?" Jacob asks. He has been more cordial to you... but you would not call yourself friends. A part of you dreads to give the order to him. You know he will want to fight.
"We have determined when the attack will come," you tell him. "In a week's time--nine days from now, to be precise. Eliezer has determined that the city will fall. He wants us to take as many people as we may, and flee to the north."
Jacob frowns. He seems to consider something for a moment before releasing a great sigh.
"You beat me in that duel and so you lead. But... it was a fluke, and you know it. I want another fight. Not to determine leadership. But I underestimated you before. I want to see how skilled you actually are... and to see if another 'fluke' happens. Luck isn't real," he says.
Luck isn't real. An idea that had once been popular and common in your people. Luck is simply the favor of El, granted for whatever reason He deemed fit. From that perspective, your victory might be seen as El's favor being granted? And... does Jacob think he can see if you still have it, through a duel?
Not that it matters. You've been eager to test your new abilities. This provides the perfect opportunity.
The two of you square up against one another. The soldiers that had been sparring with Jacob stand at the edge of the training ground. You think how this must appear. Two warriors of impeccable lineage.
Your own appearance is like a declaration to the world. Your skin marks you of Enkidu's line, married to that of Labaras, and your armor is that of kings. Not only is it of kings, but the etchings depict many great victories against demons. On the shield is a depiction of the slaying of Asherak, Smattas' holding a flaming greatsword aloft while Marnal grants him strength.
And most striking is your gender. In every way that matters, you would seem a great hero to most people. But you are a woman. A symbol of strength and tradition in one hand, and something very different in the other.
Jacob stands your opposite, a well Blooded man in decent enough armor. His beard is thick and full and to the average person, he would seem every bit a Blooded hero. His face is impassive, his eyes clear and steady.
He makes the first move. A probing strike to your left. You see it coming well in advance, a pale copy of his blow preceding it. You place your own shield just right and parry the blow. For a second, Jacob is exposed. You can already see how he will recover from it.
Your spear lashes out. Jacob responds more quickly than you can believe. For a single instant, you see a plethora of possible reactions that he might take, before he quickly commits to one. You already find yourself positioning yourself to take advantage of his movement.
The spar continues like this for several minutes. You fail to find a decisive victory as his superior strength and speed makes itself known. Yet you find yourself positioning yourself perfectly, much of his advantages negated, and in time you find yourself straining and reaching forward further and further.
A path appears in your mind. A method to expose him. First, you deflect his strike just so and then you follow up in what seems an obvious feint to you. But Jacob--perhaps tired from his previous training or remembering your past duel--doesn't realize it. He responds to the feint and is vulnerable.
Your spear finds its way past his shield and to his throat. Shock is on his face and, you must admit, you're a bit surprised yourself. You had thought you could beat him now... but to see it confirmed is another thing.
Jacob lets out a laugh.
"That was no fluke," he says. "I don't understand it, but you've improved. Very well. I'll follow you without objection. But... may I make a suggestion?
"Of course," you reply to him.
"Let me stay here. Eliezer is right to evacuate the city. But he will need at least one of us to hold the walls for any time. I've fought the Bnaimokt before, though never in such numbers, and I've learned some of the secrets of our fathers."
[] Allow him to stay behind. It is likely suicidal, but he wishes to prove himself and he isn't wrong. Any extra delay in the invasion could prove immensely valuable.
[] Deny him. You will want all the help you can get evacuating the city. Another warrior--especially one of Jacob's caliber--could be invaluable.
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[x] Allow him to stay behind. It is likely suicidal, but he wishes to prove himself and he isn't wrong. Any extra delay in the invasion could prove immensely valuable.
We've had several statements that the evacuation should be safe, and that the delaying action will be important.
We've had several statements that the evacuation should be safe, and that the delaying action will be important.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I'm pleased that our Future Sight is indeed a significant combat advantage. We needed one.
[X] Allow him to stay behind. It is likely suicidal, but he wishes to prove himself and he isn't wrong. Any extra delay in the invasion could prove immensely valuable.
If he wishes it so I see no reason to deny him. The refugees need guarding, but our senses are probably the best asset there, and one spear should be enough, while as noted guarding the walls is useful and important. I hope he lives.
[X] Allow him to stay behind. It is likely suicidal, but he wishes to prove himself and he isn't wrong. Any extra delay in the invasion could prove immensely valuable.
If he wishes it so I see no reason to deny him. The refugees need guarding, but our senses are probably the best asset there, and one spear should be enough, while as noted guarding the walls is useful and important. I hope he lives.
[x] Allow him to stay behind. It is likely suicidal, but he wishes to prove himself and he isn't wrong. Any extra delay in the invasion could prove immensely valuable.
- Location
- Ostren
[X] Allow him to stay behind. It is likely suicidal, but he wishes to prove himself and he isn't wrong. Any extra delay in the invasion could prove immensely valuable.
Eternal_0bserver
(Unverified Bookworm)
- Location
- Earth, Northern Europe
[X] Allow him to stay behind. It is likely suicidal, but he wishes to prove himself and he isn't wrong. Any extra delay in the invasion could prove immensely valuable.
A Malechim like Samattas and Ganal? What's your real name? Are you in any Old Tales? What's your domain?
What was Zepa like?
Do you talk to El?
What was Zepa like?
Do you talk to El?
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- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
"Zepa was very... loud. And bitter that he had not been granted a place within Baitel, as his brothers had been."
"I am in no stories. Well, I may be a witch in some of them. Just know me as Puabi, it is my current name. Domain? It doesn't entirely work that way."
"I do not talk to El. That would be very dangerous! Few beings can hear His voice and survive!"
- Pronouns
- He/Him
If it doesn't entirely work that way how does what most people think of as domains work?
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- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
She asks you for clarification on "domains" for a moment.
You explain what more details of what you saw in your divination--how Fare seemed to be "War Without End" and your grandfather seemed to have several things representing him?
"I understand what you mean. 'Domains' as you think of them, are simply something that a Being of Power has some influence over. The amount of influence varies, and is typically not exclusive to themselves, and might apply in only specific ways. Melachim have this power and understanding granted by El and demons through abominable acts. Many, many Beings are defined by what they have power over; some very few are not, and are all the more dangerous and unpredictable for it.
Do not put too much faith in how you understand a Being's power. They are often old and canny, able to stretch the limits of their ability. And to answer the original question: what I have power over is irrelevant. I do not typically use my own spirit, lest I exhaust it."
48--Sacrifice III
- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
[x] Allow him to stay behind. It is likely suicidal, but he wishes to prove himself and he isn't wrong. Any extra delay in the invasion could prove immensely valuable.
This entire sequence is taking awhile and I apologize. I do have a good chunk of what comes next written up, though it's unlikely to have a vote attached to it. It's outcome will depend on what you vote for here, so I should get it finished pretty quickly.
This entire sequence is taking awhile and I apologize. I do have a good chunk of what comes next written up, though it's unlikely to have a vote attached to it. It's outcome will depend on what you vote for here, so I should get it finished pretty quickly.
You give your assent to Jacob. He seems surprised for a moment and then speaks.
"Thank you, Zana," he says. Is this the first time he's thanked you? Probably, you can't recall another.
You leave him to his sparring. No time like the present, you think to yourself, and it isn't long before you've begun evacuating the civilians of the city. Not everyone goes, of course--able bodied men of a certain age are required to stay, fletchers, bowyers, and smiths remain in large numbers, and a shocking number of women insist on staying to fight.
Still, it is with a convoy of many thousand people that you eventually leave Marad. It took the better part of a day to gather so many. You didn't gather them personally, of course. Much of the work was done by criers in squares and soldiers preparing their own families.
That isn't to say you didn't do anything during this time. You, alongside several scribes and Puabi, took inventory of the city's stockpiles of food. A protracted siege seemed unlikely so you ended up taking the lion's share of supplies. Enough to last your group several months.
It isn't just the teeming mass of women, children, and cripples that you are leading. You also have a detachment of a thousand men, each armed with fine bronze spears and shields. The commander, a man named Eliyahu, will obey your orders without complaint... though he has some words of advice for you.
"Can't defend them all, not if a detachment of Bnaimokt come at us. Too few of us, too many of them. Keep us somewhere we can quickly respond--but not in the middle of the convoy, we'd be fighting to get anywhere then. I'd suggest splitting us in half, five hundred men on each wing. You take one group and I take the other."
It seems an excellent arrangement and so you agree to it.
The convoy moves slowly across the lands. What had been a trip of four days will take significantly longer--as much as two weeks, or perhaps even more. Much depends on the weather and whether seasonal rains turn the road into a muddy mess.
And rain it does. Strong winds blow from the west, from the direction of the sea, and rain falls in sheets. While good for farmers and their fields, it is terrible for your travel. The roads are a quagmire of mud when they aren't flooded.
You are three days into your journey when you feel it. For a single instant, your heart stops beating and a tremor runs down your body. Information slips through a cracked door.
Something terrible is-was-has-will-may be happening.
Panic eats at you. The Bnaimokt were meant to be nearly ten days away--you should still have five, maybe even six days, until they arrive at Marad. You haven't made nearly the distant you would like. Though... can you trust this feeling?
Luckily you have someone to consult.
"It is a premonition. I... am mildly shocked, though I am not aware what sorcery the Bnaimokt will bring to bear. What you sense has not occurred yet, but something of great scale will certainly happen. Something not good," Puabi says. "You are sensing the tremors from this event, which has not happened yet, but irrevocably will happen absent the intervention of a Being of vast power."
"And what might cause this?" you ask her.
"Any number of things. The desecration of a Temple might? Though Marad's is not so ancient to cause such a thing, I do not think? Immense sorceries, likely powered by blood? The wrath of the Almighty striking at His enemies might also cause such a thing, when He moves the world itself quakes. More likely it is some other Being, though that madman in the Mountains would not dare to move so directly. He does have lesser servants?" comes Puabi's reply.
So something terrible happening, something also terrible happening, something maybe good but also probably devastating, and more terrible possibilities? You didn't like those odds, especially since you're pretty certain El won't be intervening. He does not strike you as likely to change His mind!
The next two days go more quickly. Yet your sleep has been troubled. Dreams and nightmares assail you. Flashes of women and children sacrificed on altars, monstrous figures carving out their hearts and other organs. In particular, a terrible creature--resembling a Bnaimokt--cloaked in shadow disturbs your dreams. A city burning and birds of prey, bred to be large enough to hold a man, delivering a terrible gift.
On the sixth night--perhaps two or three days before the invasion itself--something itself disturbs your dreams.
You have been taught for much of your life. Carefully guided. It is this that has granted you certain abilities that seem instinctive--to see visions of death, to harden your spear in battle, to interact in a limited fashion with the dead--and allowed a certain level of control. You realize this now.
You wonder if you will forget again?
A man stands before you. He is your teacher. You have never seen him in this guise before. He does not appear as your father, nor as Afra, nor as Puabi, and he has never taken the guise of Gideon. To impersonate a priest of El would be a grave offense, even for one such as he, for you know some part of him now.
He is a Sworn and Sacred Servant of El.
Men are not sacred, save for the Prophet himself, and some argue even that. The only things which are sacred is those El has ordained as such. Altars, some rare Blessed items, symbols, and other tools to His will.
He is tall. Immensely so. In fact... if you had to guess, he is exactly eighteen feet tall. Eighteen being El's sacred number. He has five fingers upon each hand, instead of the six most commonly associated with the very Blooded. His skin is darker than you have ever seen, even darker than your brief interaction with Asahel in the Lands of Zepa.
He is bare chested and wears a skirt of leather strips. Upon his feet are well worn sandals and is completely unarmed, save a sword at his waist (which surely serves as a belt knife, for a man of his stature.)
You have never especially admired the beauty of men (nor of women, for that matter), but you have to admit: aesthetically, he is very nearly perfect. His beard is perfectly oiled with rings of bronze woven throughout it. His hair is long and not a strand seems out of place, nor a single end frayed. He has a variety of small scars scattered throughout his form. Certainly well earned in battle and they only serve to highlight his strength.
He stands in a green field. Fruit trees of all types stand around you. Song birds, deer, wolves, and all variety of wild life can be heard and seen.
"Granddaughter," your grandfather greets you for the very first time.
Only it isn't the first time, is it? No, simply the first time showing his true face. Though you cannot help but feel you are missing something, hidden even from your gaze...
"Grandfather... or would you prefer Teacher?" you reply to him.
He smiles at you. It does not touch his eyes.
"Call me as you wish. But we have important matters to discuss, especially after that little stunt you pulled with Puabi," he says.
"The divination, you mean? How else was I supposed to learn anything?"
A genuine laugh escapes him. Or you think it is genuine. How much of what you see is simply an act, something put forward to make you feel at ease, or feel concern, or whatever it is he desires?
"It was expected, but it did attract some attention. You are in no special danger. Fare, the coward, will not descend from his Mountain and risk the wrath of the Almighty, save upon the Jubilee. I am free to act as needed, but I can do little. And so I have questions for you."
And so he speaks with you. Every little detail of your time in the Protectorate so far. He seems especially interested in the friendship of Etana and Akki, for some reason? When you conclude that part of the tale, he simply shakes his head and has you continue.
When the time comes for your duel with Jacob, you can feel wrath building around him. In fact... storm clouds are gathering in the sky of your dream, and the ominous rumble of thunder rolls across the landscape. He seems pleased at the conclusion and especially interested in your treatment and mending--well, maybe mending is too strong of a word--the bridging of the gap between yourself and Jacob.
By the time you are done with your tale, the sky has calmed again and a bird has perched atop your grandfather's head? He seems to pay it no mind as it sings.
"Now, I have a difficult question for you. This boy, Jacob... he is not unknown to me. A poor investment, I think, but not irrecoverable. Do you have any particular feelings? No, not like that, I mean on his survival. Obviously, he is Zepathan and it is preferable he live, but do you think he should live at a cost to yourself? Is he worth it?"
[] Jacob is an ass. You have never liked him. When he has not ignored you, he has demeaned and insulted you, and it is only through violence that you forced him to heel. You would not pay a cost to ensure he lives.
[] Jacob is an ass, but not irredeemable. The two of you had even come to an understanding. Besides, he is a well Blooded warrior and in a century or two he might even be a Mighty Man. (expends 1x Grandfather Token)
??? Tokens revealed to be Grandfather
[x] Jacob is an ass, but not irredeemable. The two of you had even come to an understanding. Besides, he is a well Blooded warrior and in a century or two he might even be a Mighty Man. (expends 1x Grandfather Token)
One token now for a one-in-thousands level combatant down the line sounds like a reasonably good investment for the long term benefit of our people.
One token now for a one-in-thousands level combatant down the line sounds like a reasonably good investment for the long term benefit of our people.
Eternal_0bserver
(Unverified Bookworm)
- Location
- Earth, Northern Europe
[X] Jacob is an ass, but not irredeemable. The two of you had even come to an understanding. Besides, he is a well Blooded warrior and in a century or two he might even be a Mighty Man. (expends 1x Grandfather Token)