- Pronouns
- They/Them
Vote closes tomorrow.
Behind the Serpent Throne (CK2)
- Thread starter The Laurent
- Start date
- Original Fantasy
We will acquire a spectrum then!
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Also, we currently have a tie. Vote's not closed yet, just noting this.
Random Member
Gardener of Human Happiness
- Location
- Behind You
Hmm, I'll switch then.
[X] Talk about "Foreign Affairs."
[X] A discussion of the opposition, and their stances.
[X] Talk about "Foreign Affairs."
[X] A discussion of the opposition, and their stances.
- Location
- Canada
[X] Talk about "Foreign Affairs."
[X] A discussion of the opposition, and their stances.
[X] A discussion of the opposition, and their stances.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Btw, vote's been closed for a bit... should have said.
Turn 13B--Part 2
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Turn 13B--Part 2
The old man sits at a desk covered in scrolls, weighed down with history and ambition, and looked across at his son. His eyes were hard and thoughtful, the eyes of a man who was going to change the world. He looked ill, but not any more than other old men, and he was rubbing the ring on his finger, his spirits quiet and shy. Weak perhaps.
"Your friend, Cs-Hiro, has been making himself known among even the opposition. He wants a lot, doesn't he?"
"He's not my friend," Kiralo said with a shrug, glancing at the guards and the scribes, aware that this would be passed on, "but he is a loyal subject of the Imperial Seat, is he not? And his ambition is not ill-conceived."
"Not ill-conceived?" Kuojah asked, his voice dry and mild as the dust.
It would get out, this faint praise, this care. Of course Hiro was seeking as many allies as he could: of course Hiro didn't want to rely on him alone. But Kiralo had to accept this as part of the game. He'd send requests to help Hiro, and perhaps the man would leap at them… or perhaps he would nod and take his words in stride.
Consider things.
"Yes. Father, we have to discuss the reforms."
"What of them?"
"You have it lined up in court, but I can tell that they buck, like wild spirits, seeking freedom." Kiralo shook his head, glancing around at the walls and walls of books, looking at the signs of his father's supposed wisdom… "But you know this already. What you also know is that the nobles far and wide will look for ways to undermine it."
"In Csrae, they have little choice but to submit to the will of the Emperor. Hanae, if this next part gets out, I will know who said it." The young clerk, named after the old hero, nodded gravely. He'd have to be very loyal to gossip about more than a few hints, a few… words, here and there. And only those he was allowed to send on.
"I feel that the opposition is confused by this."
"Probably," Kiralo said. "I do need to know how to talk to them, because they're not enemies of all of this reform, are they?" Kiralo shook his head. "No, if I were you, what I'd truly fear was my allies."
"You are not me."
"It is as the Gods will," Kiralo said, quietly. "Your allies, plenty of them, like you because you are a man of tradition. But it was the old traditions that drew you. Not merely to preserve what is now, but to build what is better… and what was." Kiralo shrugged. "I don't claim to understand you, father, but I understand that much, and if they'd asked me I could have told them as much. I'd never underestimated you in that respect. But…"
"My enemies make their living off of their hatred of me. They spread their lies and poison. You know court life. Kiralo, you're not a fool."
"Of course I'm not." Kiralo looked at his father, gritting his teeth. "Factions are also about friendship and give and take. Bribes and lies and sex. But you're a little different. You are friends, sure, but… you have beliefs. You don't let people in with an open hand and a willingness to take a little graft. Not unless you have to." Kiralo shrugged his shoulders. "And you're perhaps right to do so, and you've made plenty of contacts based on friendship… but ideology, I've seen it divide you from others."
"And so I should use it to unite me?"
"Tell me which of your enemies have talked about doing things like this?" Kiralo asked, waving his hand. "Centralizing thing, trying to weaken the power of certain nobles. The plans you have for Hari-Os can be massaged." Kiralo smiled at that. At the way he was slipping and sliding around meaning.
Kiralo wasn't against merchants, and it would be bizarre to encourage people to spread out and encouraging markets… while also punishing Hari-Os.
"You want us to open our borders to every barbarian there is?"
"No. You tell everyone that is a lie. I wish to trade with the barbarian, sure. On the terms that Csirit sets, and for the profit of Csirit and the world. For the profit and glory of the Emperor. It has always been my wish," Kiralo said emphatically. "Since I have come here, and it was only ever not my wish because I lived a life before this."
"And a life after this?" Kuojah asked, with a cough, his hand slipping over his mouth to cover it. "Are you going to leave?"
"Not yet. Probably not soon," Kiralo said. "So, we need to know who I have to go after, and we need to understand just how we are going to maintain this. You want people around the Emperor, you want influence and power so that the Emperor's will can't be subverted by others?"
"Yes. It is very difficult. Especially when I contemplate my death." Kuojah leaned back, dark eyes glancing around. "I don't know how long I have. Certainly not years. Perhaps not even a year. I feel it in me, a sort of hollowness in my chest. An acid in my stomach. My life-force is out of balance, and the doctors cannot tell why."
"You're old. You can tell it even in your spirits. When you are gone, I'll still be here." Kiralo looked at his father. "Perhaps my mother will be as well, that remains to be seen. There, waiting for you." Kiralo shrugged. "But names, politics. We need to divide them. The enemy divided is the enemy defeated. You want them splintered and fragmented, not united. We want them there, not here. Not in one army, but in many. So I need to know what your vision is."
Kuojah shook his head. "You are my son."
"Yes. Are you only realizing that now? It's unfortunate, but it's true," Kiralo said. "Can't see the resemblance?"
"My vision is of an Empire united. These provinces would be a start. A very good start. But others will have to adopt these methods or be left behind, become poor backwaters, if we succeed. The nobles give too little and take too much. I care for the gentry, and to have a house in the country or the revenue to pursue higher learning is a good thing. But to do so without understanding that all things flow from the Emperor, and from the Emperor should reach, as rain, even the smallest shoot…"
"That is good rhetoric, but who owns all of that land?" Kiralo asked. "We have to give some of it to people that have been promised it. The Prince will die, and with him will die a lot of families. A lot of men will be ambitious to take something, to grab it."
"They can get in line. We'll be predicating any such actions on their compliance." Kuojah hesitated, looking at Kiralo, the line of his mouth working its way up and down. "Even if they are not my friends. If they can be trusted."
"But there's more to it. What's this new system?"
"It's simple, then. We need scholars who are capable of doing the small jobs, so that the Exam scholars can fulfill their vital role. But to do so, we need to expand the bureaucracy, so that there are not so many unused men, or men who turn their great talent to nothing more than copying letters. So we create schools in order to train them, and we begin to fill offices, create functions that do not owe everything to a single noble. And we move them. We assign people in rotation. No Provincial Governor can hold the same post for more than so long, depending on the post, the power, and other factors."
Kuojah glanced towards the books. "We create a structure, and a structure to watch it for corruption. It can be done, do not doubt it. It is just and right by the Gods that we unite all under the Emperor, given to us by Heaven."
Kiralo nodded. It was a piety, added as a gloss to something that many would assume was against the will of the Gods because they didn't like it. But it was an important gloss.
"You can no doubt sketch it out in your dreams," Kiralo said, with a slight smile.
Kuojah sighed. "Cs-Kiralo…"
"You want me to stop teasing? I could do worse, old man. But yes, we need to sell people on this system, we need them to know just what we want to do."
"Ah, so my circle, and also many circles."
"It should be written up into pamphlets, to circulate," Kiralo said. "Among the literate. It should be shouted on every doorstep. It should…" Kiralo trailed off at the look on Kuojah's face, but he wasn't going to stop now. "I want the shepherd to hear it, and the low peasant, and the learned scholar who has been sitting in a hermitage. That's what you'd say if you were me, but wanted this." Kiralo shrugged a little, and then leaned up a bit, to look at the far window. "Peasants are of the Empire the same as others."
"They are. But that's a dangerous line of thinking…"
"I'm a soldier. I'll always be a soldier even when I'm a courtier too. Danger is part of it." Kiralo shrugged. "My friend calls this place a pit of vipers… and maybe he's right. But I think I can do something here."
"So do I," Kuojah said, looking away, and Kiralo could see the years unrolling like a scroll before the old man. "You've met with Yanmae?"
"Yes. She is dutiful and… earnest. Perhaps…"
"Perhaps. Perhaps." Kuojah shook his head, smiling a little. "It's talk for another time, then. What matters, first off, is that we need to start the education and the council's long before we can see the results. I might not live to see even the first fruits harvested from this. Which means that I need to focus on that. I can bend myself to that… you."
"Are you going to command me?"
"I'm going to suggest that perhaps you should gather the reins of power to yourself, and begin planning your own reforms."
It was so impersonal, Kiralo thought. It worked, and he didn't want more, but it was not the way a father and son talked, as allies in some political game. Sons knelt and crawled at their father's feet, at least in theory: they obeyed them and advanced the glory of the family. Kiralo, though, was on his own road.
"Are you going to tell me your plans?" Kuojah asked.
"First, we need to pay the soldiers. And we can. We have a lot of land, don't we? Find a test to make sure they aren't crooks, and send someone to collect something of the taxation, or at least survey it. Do something, and use it as a springboard."
"People will be hurt," Kuojah said.
He meant peasants.
Kiralo nodded. "They might be. There will be people who take too much, or people who avoided taxation that will have to pay it now." It was just the truth, and he didn't like it, but he'd been thinking a long time and the best ways to avoid trouble with the army and pay back all debts from the war was with that land, and with how it was divided out.
It wasn't an easy choice, and… there had to be something that could be done. "The Merchants, too. We can take loans from them, especially from Hari-Os. Only make the loans required. Make it so that we'll repay them but no more. If they aren't in charge of land, just money, then they won't…"
Kuojah groaned, shaking his head. "They'll find a way."
If you doubled a noble's taxes as punishment to him, the people who actually suffered were the peasants that he squeezed until every last drop was gone from them, until they were dessicated husks.
But perhaps Merchants could find a way to abuse their status to get out of it. But a loan… a contribution to the Empire for those who were associated with rebellion, but not prominently. The small merchant houses that had done nothing to stop Prince Jinhai. Surely they had to pay for their continued survival, for the mercy that Kiralo might have granted them without thinking… except everything had to be bought and paid for.
Prince Jinhai would likely pay money to his own executioner, in the hopes that the man would not intentionally botch it, or would not slip, or use a dull blade… even if there was little chance of that. Even if Kiralo wouldn't have allowed it. It was always better to be sure, it was always better to have a hand in someone's pocket.
It was a way of living that was hard to understand outside of it.
Kiralo didn't like to think about it. "So, we need to talk. Who to go after, and how, and where, and why and when."
"I have an hour, and then there are other things to do."
"That'll be enough."
******
Kiralo created a test for his secretaries, modeling it almost on the tests one might take to be a scholar, but more detailed. And he examined the background of each man. Each quarrelsome, troublesome man. He found much to like… but never enough, and they were secretive and careful, their histories like a closed book.
You sounded them out, and like Hiro many of them let your words, written or otherwise, sink into the darkness without a response. Hiro hadn't smiled when they'd passed, but neither had gossip and rumor let out that HIro hated Kiralo, or had said anything against him.
A failure, but there were worse failures.
But Kiralo thought he'd have to keep trying on the secretaries, and keep trying on Hiro.
That was all.
******
It was dark, and the Prince was still in an undershirt, curled up halfway into a ball in the very well-appointed cell. He didn't look any smaller.
Kiralo realized he probably would never look any smaller. He was too assured to deflate. His own death seemed to hold no mystery for him.
When he saw Kiralo, the Prince asked, "How is victory treating you?" Like he was a neighbor asking about the crops.
"What do the guards tell you?"
"That you're a hero, that's all. And that I should not ask them." Jinhai smiled and lazed his head back. "And that you have four or five women in your home, go drinking sometimes, that you're your father's son and not, that you're plotting to become Emperor and that of course you are the most loyal subject. If you listen to the advice and opinions of fools, then it's no…"
"You say that, but you're the spymaster. You're the one who has used assassins," Kiralo threw out there. To see what hit.
Jinhai's face went carefully blank. "I was. Now I'm the one who will die. And so is life. It happens, doesn't it? It'll happen to you one day. Not this way, perhaps… but perhaps so. When your father dies, what will you do?"
"Anything I want," Kiralo said,with the same blank stare. "Your brother will be castrated once you are dead. He will live. He's been captured and he'll be sent to court."
"If I say good… you know what I mean?"
"Yes."
"We looked into your past, down in the Southlands. What would you have done, if the Emperor that was hadn't died?" Jinhai asked.
"Lived," Kiralo said. "Plenty of people do it without your… ambition."
"It would have been a waste. Like the frog who feeds on moss," Jinhai said. It was from some old and somewhat strange tale.
"It's not new," Kiralo said. "How many people truly live as they could? They live as they do. Or they die."
"And they die," Jinhai added. "Unless you know something I don't. Besides the question: why are you here?"
Why?
He certainly had a reason.
Why (Choose 1)
[] "What did you plan to do when you reached the capital. I still don't understand it, and I've gone through your logic repeatedly, and come up with only one conclusion…"
[] "Why are you so worried about barbarians? About the Anlan?"
[] "What do you think the Judges would say to you?"
[] "Did you talk with any of the opposition?"
******
A/N: Also, the secretary rolls weren't great, you'll see a little more of the bad luck there later… Not super bad, but… eh! It happens. Or should happen at least a little.
The old man sits at a desk covered in scrolls, weighed down with history and ambition, and looked across at his son. His eyes were hard and thoughtful, the eyes of a man who was going to change the world. He looked ill, but not any more than other old men, and he was rubbing the ring on his finger, his spirits quiet and shy. Weak perhaps.
"Your friend, Cs-Hiro, has been making himself known among even the opposition. He wants a lot, doesn't he?"
"He's not my friend," Kiralo said with a shrug, glancing at the guards and the scribes, aware that this would be passed on, "but he is a loyal subject of the Imperial Seat, is he not? And his ambition is not ill-conceived."
"Not ill-conceived?" Kuojah asked, his voice dry and mild as the dust.
It would get out, this faint praise, this care. Of course Hiro was seeking as many allies as he could: of course Hiro didn't want to rely on him alone. But Kiralo had to accept this as part of the game. He'd send requests to help Hiro, and perhaps the man would leap at them… or perhaps he would nod and take his words in stride.
Consider things.
"Yes. Father, we have to discuss the reforms."
"What of them?"
"You have it lined up in court, but I can tell that they buck, like wild spirits, seeking freedom." Kiralo shook his head, glancing around at the walls and walls of books, looking at the signs of his father's supposed wisdom… "But you know this already. What you also know is that the nobles far and wide will look for ways to undermine it."
"In Csrae, they have little choice but to submit to the will of the Emperor. Hanae, if this next part gets out, I will know who said it." The young clerk, named after the old hero, nodded gravely. He'd have to be very loyal to gossip about more than a few hints, a few… words, here and there. And only those he was allowed to send on.
"I feel that the opposition is confused by this."
"Probably," Kiralo said. "I do need to know how to talk to them, because they're not enemies of all of this reform, are they?" Kiralo shook his head. "No, if I were you, what I'd truly fear was my allies."
"You are not me."
"It is as the Gods will," Kiralo said, quietly. "Your allies, plenty of them, like you because you are a man of tradition. But it was the old traditions that drew you. Not merely to preserve what is now, but to build what is better… and what was." Kiralo shrugged. "I don't claim to understand you, father, but I understand that much, and if they'd asked me I could have told them as much. I'd never underestimated you in that respect. But…"
"My enemies make their living off of their hatred of me. They spread their lies and poison. You know court life. Kiralo, you're not a fool."
"Of course I'm not." Kiralo looked at his father, gritting his teeth. "Factions are also about friendship and give and take. Bribes and lies and sex. But you're a little different. You are friends, sure, but… you have beliefs. You don't let people in with an open hand and a willingness to take a little graft. Not unless you have to." Kiralo shrugged his shoulders. "And you're perhaps right to do so, and you've made plenty of contacts based on friendship… but ideology, I've seen it divide you from others."
"And so I should use it to unite me?"
"Tell me which of your enemies have talked about doing things like this?" Kiralo asked, waving his hand. "Centralizing thing, trying to weaken the power of certain nobles. The plans you have for Hari-Os can be massaged." Kiralo smiled at that. At the way he was slipping and sliding around meaning.
Kiralo wasn't against merchants, and it would be bizarre to encourage people to spread out and encouraging markets… while also punishing Hari-Os.
"You want us to open our borders to every barbarian there is?"
"No. You tell everyone that is a lie. I wish to trade with the barbarian, sure. On the terms that Csirit sets, and for the profit of Csirit and the world. For the profit and glory of the Emperor. It has always been my wish," Kiralo said emphatically. "Since I have come here, and it was only ever not my wish because I lived a life before this."
"And a life after this?" Kuojah asked, with a cough, his hand slipping over his mouth to cover it. "Are you going to leave?"
"Not yet. Probably not soon," Kiralo said. "So, we need to know who I have to go after, and we need to understand just how we are going to maintain this. You want people around the Emperor, you want influence and power so that the Emperor's will can't be subverted by others?"
"Yes. It is very difficult. Especially when I contemplate my death." Kuojah leaned back, dark eyes glancing around. "I don't know how long I have. Certainly not years. Perhaps not even a year. I feel it in me, a sort of hollowness in my chest. An acid in my stomach. My life-force is out of balance, and the doctors cannot tell why."
"You're old. You can tell it even in your spirits. When you are gone, I'll still be here." Kiralo looked at his father. "Perhaps my mother will be as well, that remains to be seen. There, waiting for you." Kiralo shrugged. "But names, politics. We need to divide them. The enemy divided is the enemy defeated. You want them splintered and fragmented, not united. We want them there, not here. Not in one army, but in many. So I need to know what your vision is."
Kuojah shook his head. "You are my son."
"Yes. Are you only realizing that now? It's unfortunate, but it's true," Kiralo said. "Can't see the resemblance?"
"My vision is of an Empire united. These provinces would be a start. A very good start. But others will have to adopt these methods or be left behind, become poor backwaters, if we succeed. The nobles give too little and take too much. I care for the gentry, and to have a house in the country or the revenue to pursue higher learning is a good thing. But to do so without understanding that all things flow from the Emperor, and from the Emperor should reach, as rain, even the smallest shoot…"
"That is good rhetoric, but who owns all of that land?" Kiralo asked. "We have to give some of it to people that have been promised it. The Prince will die, and with him will die a lot of families. A lot of men will be ambitious to take something, to grab it."
"They can get in line. We'll be predicating any such actions on their compliance." Kuojah hesitated, looking at Kiralo, the line of his mouth working its way up and down. "Even if they are not my friends. If they can be trusted."
"But there's more to it. What's this new system?"
"It's simple, then. We need scholars who are capable of doing the small jobs, so that the Exam scholars can fulfill their vital role. But to do so, we need to expand the bureaucracy, so that there are not so many unused men, or men who turn their great talent to nothing more than copying letters. So we create schools in order to train them, and we begin to fill offices, create functions that do not owe everything to a single noble. And we move them. We assign people in rotation. No Provincial Governor can hold the same post for more than so long, depending on the post, the power, and other factors."
Kuojah glanced towards the books. "We create a structure, and a structure to watch it for corruption. It can be done, do not doubt it. It is just and right by the Gods that we unite all under the Emperor, given to us by Heaven."
Kiralo nodded. It was a piety, added as a gloss to something that many would assume was against the will of the Gods because they didn't like it. But it was an important gloss.
"You can no doubt sketch it out in your dreams," Kiralo said, with a slight smile.
Kuojah sighed. "Cs-Kiralo…"
"You want me to stop teasing? I could do worse, old man. But yes, we need to sell people on this system, we need them to know just what we want to do."
"Ah, so my circle, and also many circles."
"It should be written up into pamphlets, to circulate," Kiralo said. "Among the literate. It should be shouted on every doorstep. It should…" Kiralo trailed off at the look on Kuojah's face, but he wasn't going to stop now. "I want the shepherd to hear it, and the low peasant, and the learned scholar who has been sitting in a hermitage. That's what you'd say if you were me, but wanted this." Kiralo shrugged a little, and then leaned up a bit, to look at the far window. "Peasants are of the Empire the same as others."
"They are. But that's a dangerous line of thinking…"
"I'm a soldier. I'll always be a soldier even when I'm a courtier too. Danger is part of it." Kiralo shrugged. "My friend calls this place a pit of vipers… and maybe he's right. But I think I can do something here."
"So do I," Kuojah said, looking away, and Kiralo could see the years unrolling like a scroll before the old man. "You've met with Yanmae?"
"Yes. She is dutiful and… earnest. Perhaps…"
"Perhaps. Perhaps." Kuojah shook his head, smiling a little. "It's talk for another time, then. What matters, first off, is that we need to start the education and the council's long before we can see the results. I might not live to see even the first fruits harvested from this. Which means that I need to focus on that. I can bend myself to that… you."
"Are you going to command me?"
"I'm going to suggest that perhaps you should gather the reins of power to yourself, and begin planning your own reforms."
It was so impersonal, Kiralo thought. It worked, and he didn't want more, but it was not the way a father and son talked, as allies in some political game. Sons knelt and crawled at their father's feet, at least in theory: they obeyed them and advanced the glory of the family. Kiralo, though, was on his own road.
"Are you going to tell me your plans?" Kuojah asked.
"First, we need to pay the soldiers. And we can. We have a lot of land, don't we? Find a test to make sure they aren't crooks, and send someone to collect something of the taxation, or at least survey it. Do something, and use it as a springboard."
"People will be hurt," Kuojah said.
He meant peasants.
Kiralo nodded. "They might be. There will be people who take too much, or people who avoided taxation that will have to pay it now." It was just the truth, and he didn't like it, but he'd been thinking a long time and the best ways to avoid trouble with the army and pay back all debts from the war was with that land, and with how it was divided out.
It wasn't an easy choice, and… there had to be something that could be done. "The Merchants, too. We can take loans from them, especially from Hari-Os. Only make the loans required. Make it so that we'll repay them but no more. If they aren't in charge of land, just money, then they won't…"
Kuojah groaned, shaking his head. "They'll find a way."
If you doubled a noble's taxes as punishment to him, the people who actually suffered were the peasants that he squeezed until every last drop was gone from them, until they were dessicated husks.
But perhaps Merchants could find a way to abuse their status to get out of it. But a loan… a contribution to the Empire for those who were associated with rebellion, but not prominently. The small merchant houses that had done nothing to stop Prince Jinhai. Surely they had to pay for their continued survival, for the mercy that Kiralo might have granted them without thinking… except everything had to be bought and paid for.
Prince Jinhai would likely pay money to his own executioner, in the hopes that the man would not intentionally botch it, or would not slip, or use a dull blade… even if there was little chance of that. Even if Kiralo wouldn't have allowed it. It was always better to be sure, it was always better to have a hand in someone's pocket.
It was a way of living that was hard to understand outside of it.
Kiralo didn't like to think about it. "So, we need to talk. Who to go after, and how, and where, and why and when."
"I have an hour, and then there are other things to do."
"That'll be enough."
******
Kiralo created a test for his secretaries, modeling it almost on the tests one might take to be a scholar, but more detailed. And he examined the background of each man. Each quarrelsome, troublesome man. He found much to like… but never enough, and they were secretive and careful, their histories like a closed book.
You sounded them out, and like Hiro many of them let your words, written or otherwise, sink into the darkness without a response. Hiro hadn't smiled when they'd passed, but neither had gossip and rumor let out that HIro hated Kiralo, or had said anything against him.
A failure, but there were worse failures.
But Kiralo thought he'd have to keep trying on the secretaries, and keep trying on Hiro.
That was all.
******
It was dark, and the Prince was still in an undershirt, curled up halfway into a ball in the very well-appointed cell. He didn't look any smaller.
Kiralo realized he probably would never look any smaller. He was too assured to deflate. His own death seemed to hold no mystery for him.
When he saw Kiralo, the Prince asked, "How is victory treating you?" Like he was a neighbor asking about the crops.
"What do the guards tell you?"
"That you're a hero, that's all. And that I should not ask them." Jinhai smiled and lazed his head back. "And that you have four or five women in your home, go drinking sometimes, that you're your father's son and not, that you're plotting to become Emperor and that of course you are the most loyal subject. If you listen to the advice and opinions of fools, then it's no…"
"You say that, but you're the spymaster. You're the one who has used assassins," Kiralo threw out there. To see what hit.
Jinhai's face went carefully blank. "I was. Now I'm the one who will die. And so is life. It happens, doesn't it? It'll happen to you one day. Not this way, perhaps… but perhaps so. When your father dies, what will you do?"
"Anything I want," Kiralo said,with the same blank stare. "Your brother will be castrated once you are dead. He will live. He's been captured and he'll be sent to court."
"If I say good… you know what I mean?"
"Yes."
"We looked into your past, down in the Southlands. What would you have done, if the Emperor that was hadn't died?" Jinhai asked.
"Lived," Kiralo said. "Plenty of people do it without your… ambition."
"It would have been a waste. Like the frog who feeds on moss," Jinhai said. It was from some old and somewhat strange tale.
"It's not new," Kiralo said. "How many people truly live as they could? They live as they do. Or they die."
"And they die," Jinhai added. "Unless you know something I don't. Besides the question: why are you here?"
Why?
He certainly had a reason.
Why (Choose 1)
[] "What did you plan to do when you reached the capital. I still don't understand it, and I've gone through your logic repeatedly, and come up with only one conclusion…"
[] "Why are you so worried about barbarians? About the Anlan?"
[] "What do you think the Judges would say to you?"
[] "Did you talk with any of the opposition?"
******
-[X] Father
Need: 20, Rolled: 1d100+8=103+1d100=152
-[X] The End of the Prince
N/A, but it's an event so there will be rolls.
-[X] The Hiro We Need
Need: Variable, Rolled: 1d100+12=34, not… great.
[X] The Price of War
Need: Variable, Rolled: 1d100+6=67
Need: 20, Rolled: 1d100+8=103+1d100=152
-[X] The End of the Prince
N/A, but it's an event so there will be rolls.
-[X] The Hiro We Need
Need: Variable, Rolled: 1d100+12=34, not… great.
[X] The Price of War
Need: Variable, Rolled: 1d100+6=67
A/N: Also, the secretary rolls weren't great, you'll see a little more of the bad luck there later… Not super bad, but… eh! It happens. Or should happen at least a little.
Zeitgeist Blue
Currently Made of Metal
- Location
- Manila, Philippines, GMT +8
[X] "What do you think the Judges would say to you?"
Kiralo's quite interested in matters concerning the Judges I believe.
Kiralo's quite interested in matters concerning the Judges I believe.
[X] "What did you plan to do when you reached the capital. I still don't understand it, and I've gone through your logic repeatedly, and come up with only one conclusion…"
Yeah this is pretty key given Csrae and the Palace is the centre of power, and is of obvious significance to the Emperor, Kuojah and Kiralo.
Yeah this is pretty key given Csrae and the Palace is the centre of power, and is of obvious significance to the Emperor, Kuojah and Kiralo.
Random Member
Gardener of Human Happiness
- Location
- Behind You
[X] "Did you talk with any of the opposition?"
Oh, oh, possible dirt! If we had proof that some of them were in contact with a traitor, we can force them to either fall in line or face the consequences.
Oh, oh, possible dirt! If we had proof that some of them were in contact with a traitor, we can force them to either fall in line or face the consequences.
- Location
- Virginia
[X] "What did you plan to do when you reached the capital. I still don't understand it, and I've gone through your logic repeatedly, and come up with only one conclusion…"
[x] "Why are you so worried about barbarians? About the Anlan?"
His conquest plans are irrelevant now. Real threats instead.
His conquest plans are irrelevant now. Real threats instead.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Vote finally closes tomorrow morning, but I do have to note that I have stuff every day from Wednesday to next Monday, including a wedding. So, uh, head's up there?
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Sometimes a really good roll can mean really bad things.
Random Member
Gardener of Human Happiness
- Location
- Behind You
Well then, let's see what we have to fix this time.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Well... that's one way to put it, yes.
Turn 13B--Part 3
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Turn 13B--Part 3
"What did you plan to do when you reached the capital. I still don't understand it, and I've gone through your logic repeatedly, and come up with only one conclusion…"
Jinhai stared at him, his eyes darting. Darting down corridors. Kiralo could see the way the Prince could have tried to dart and divert him. Tired and near death, it didn't matter. The Prince was someone who had played politics all his life. When he'd not been what he was, he'd been a piece in other people's games. A boy could not be anything more, but a man?
He'd brought himself here, and Kiralo's sympathy didn't extend far enough that he'd be willing to hear excuses about the Anlan, and about the justice of his actions and how the Ten Judges would do anything bout condemn him.
Kiralo didn't want to hear it, didn't want to drag himself down the dark, watery paths to a bubbling grave, a pool in which his convictions could drown trying to fight a morass of self-justification.
Jinhai, of course, would not have a pool. His body would be burnt, his ashes discarded as if they were nothing. After his head was displayed for a time, so that nobody could think it was some clever spirit forgery. There were spirits of shadows and light that could fool a man's eyes, if you could make a deal with them…
There were always people who would lie to themselves.
"Your conclusion?" Jinhai sounded helpful, like a student whose teacher had lost the track of the lesson.
"If you had gone the distance, if you had journeyed all this way, it'd be difficult. I've been appraised of the logistical problems in reverse, of course." Kiralo sighed. "So many merchants to talk to, and you have to stop and graze the horses and pack animals if you want to carry the loads needed to survive without constant foraging. And some cities will be open to you, and some won't, and either way, Basrat is burning behind you, and given enough time and a long enough siege, your support will wither away like the winter snows before the thaw of spring."
"You have a way with words, to use such an original phrase," Jinhai said, drily, but again with a sort of chiding air.
"Would you prefer I use some uncouth, 'barbarous' phrase? Like a cock before the sight of a scythe?" Kiralo asked, for of course the Southlanders were just as poetic as any people. That was to say, often not very. But what peasant in any place had the time to write verse? They sung, and that was enough.
"Well, you do remind me of what will happen to my brother… but I suppose there are worse fates. But go on."
"So, I've plotted all of that out. If I were you, I would have promised major concessions among some of the rivals in Csrae. Most would remain loyal, but among a herd of horses, you'll always find one that will go wild at the sight of grass." Kiralo shrugged. "So, you reach the city, with an enemy hurrying at your back… and then what?"
"Well. Then what?"
"It wouldn't be enough for someone to open the gates. Because unless it was in the deep of night, Csrae is too large to be so easily captured, and the barracks are fortified. It'd be a step forward, but not enough. Then I thought that you might have someone you were paying, some small commander to sew troubles. Then I realized, you'd need something more than that."
"Oh?"
"Someone high up.A powerful noble, one of the most influential generals. But I can't tell who, except he needs to be pretty far up there." Kiralo looked at Jinhai and said, "Simply give me a name. I have a few suspicions."
There were things you couldn't think, even in your head, for fear that the Gods would see them. There were fears that existed only in the dreamy heights of midnight. There were words that could kill more thoroughly than an army.
Jinhai said a name.
Thousand died. A parent hung his child for fear that worse would happen to a young girl. It rained and there was a famine, and soldiers picked clean the last of the millet. Arrows tore into bare, naked bodies, left staked there as a message for others.
Men hurried through dark passages with dark designs, designs that they had not placed in motion, but a dead man, standing there, his eyes as placid and cool and clear as a lake right before a deluge.
And Kiralo stared back at him. Poison was taken, and bones were broken in torture in the brief eternity of nothing that he felt calling in his soul, like standing out over a wasteland. He saw it, so clearly and so absolutely, that for a moment he couldn't speak, his throat closed up.
It was as if the Gods themselves had given him that vision. It was so real that he had to keep from staggering under the weight of the name.
This was a disaster.
********
"Really? Do you swear it's him? Not just a game you're playing? Would you swear on your brother's life, and the life of all of your friend's children?" Kiralo asked, his voice hard and distant, the voice of a man who would happily see this a lie.
He wasn't bluffing.
This was not a matter to bluff on.
"Yes."
"But he was your… oh. Oh fuck."
Jinhai just smiled.
******
Ha'Dong.
"So, when he was advocating going against you suddenly and with such force that it'd seem folly, it wasn't merely that he was an idiot whose actions would have been counterproductive. He was urging mistakes in the name of hating you. He'd been your friend," Kiralo said. "An ally of yours, and so of course he wasn't betrayed. Of course he expected it. But he played his part to the hilt, and-- and he wanted to be in the army. If he was, and I died, then he'd take control and switch allegiance. And if he wasn't, and I lost, he'd be there to open up the gates and turn the army against itself."
"Well-reasoned," Jinhai said. "Where is he? I don't know, they haven't been willing to tell me that." Jinhai smirked. "I almost wanted not to tell you: after all, he was a friend of mine, once upon a time. I don't blame him for the cowardice of not openly supporting me, nor would I blame him for denying everything, now. Perhaps I'm a cruel man, but I see from your face that you've made a mistake."
Kiralo had put Ha'Dong all but in charge of an entire army. An entire province full of… witnesses. People and enemies who might speak against him, reveal him.
"What happened?" Jinhai asked.
"I put him in charge of Basrat," Kiralo said.
"You… what?" Jinhai asked, and for a moment, he looked so appalled that he didn't have any words, and then he shook his head. "Politics, wasn't it?"
"Yes. He was demanding something, and I thought him less likely to do harm in Basrat than fighting the Sea-Raiders."
Kiralo tried to breathe. So, obviously, the whole army was not compromised. Perhaps even most of it was entirely loyal to the Emperor. But some of it was compromised, and the man now had access and control to an entire province, at least until word came through the right channels to take that authority away.
"I've killed people again, haven't I?" Jinhai asked.
Ha'Dong's wisest move would be to make it impossible for anyone to get a letter revoking his authority… though to get that letter, he'd need to move fast and quietly to make sure the Emperor signed off on it. And then…
How to get the letter in?
Kiralo did remember that he had a man on the inside, a young noble… if he could manage this right, thousands would die instead of tens of thousands or more for the court's mistake. For his mistake, for that matter.
Kiralo turned on his heels, and ignored Jinhai's questions as he stormed out.
There was little enough time.
So, what's the plan?
[] Write-in.
******
A/N: Soooooo… how ya feeling? Also, you really lucked out on those rolls.
"What did you plan to do when you reached the capital. I still don't understand it, and I've gone through your logic repeatedly, and come up with only one conclusion…"
Jinhai stared at him, his eyes darting. Darting down corridors. Kiralo could see the way the Prince could have tried to dart and divert him. Tired and near death, it didn't matter. The Prince was someone who had played politics all his life. When he'd not been what he was, he'd been a piece in other people's games. A boy could not be anything more, but a man?
He'd brought himself here, and Kiralo's sympathy didn't extend far enough that he'd be willing to hear excuses about the Anlan, and about the justice of his actions and how the Ten Judges would do anything bout condemn him.
Kiralo didn't want to hear it, didn't want to drag himself down the dark, watery paths to a bubbling grave, a pool in which his convictions could drown trying to fight a morass of self-justification.
Jinhai, of course, would not have a pool. His body would be burnt, his ashes discarded as if they were nothing. After his head was displayed for a time, so that nobody could think it was some clever spirit forgery. There were spirits of shadows and light that could fool a man's eyes, if you could make a deal with them…
There were always people who would lie to themselves.
"Your conclusion?" Jinhai sounded helpful, like a student whose teacher had lost the track of the lesson.
"If you had gone the distance, if you had journeyed all this way, it'd be difficult. I've been appraised of the logistical problems in reverse, of course." Kiralo sighed. "So many merchants to talk to, and you have to stop and graze the horses and pack animals if you want to carry the loads needed to survive without constant foraging. And some cities will be open to you, and some won't, and either way, Basrat is burning behind you, and given enough time and a long enough siege, your support will wither away like the winter snows before the thaw of spring."
"You have a way with words, to use such an original phrase," Jinhai said, drily, but again with a sort of chiding air.
"Would you prefer I use some uncouth, 'barbarous' phrase? Like a cock before the sight of a scythe?" Kiralo asked, for of course the Southlanders were just as poetic as any people. That was to say, often not very. But what peasant in any place had the time to write verse? They sung, and that was enough.
"Well, you do remind me of what will happen to my brother… but I suppose there are worse fates. But go on."
"So, I've plotted all of that out. If I were you, I would have promised major concessions among some of the rivals in Csrae. Most would remain loyal, but among a herd of horses, you'll always find one that will go wild at the sight of grass." Kiralo shrugged. "So, you reach the city, with an enemy hurrying at your back… and then what?"
"Well. Then what?"
"It wouldn't be enough for someone to open the gates. Because unless it was in the deep of night, Csrae is too large to be so easily captured, and the barracks are fortified. It'd be a step forward, but not enough. Then I thought that you might have someone you were paying, some small commander to sew troubles. Then I realized, you'd need something more than that."
"Oh?"
"Someone high up.A powerful noble, one of the most influential generals. But I can't tell who, except he needs to be pretty far up there." Kiralo looked at Jinhai and said, "Simply give me a name. I have a few suspicions."
There were things you couldn't think, even in your head, for fear that the Gods would see them. There were fears that existed only in the dreamy heights of midnight. There were words that could kill more thoroughly than an army.
Jinhai said a name.
Thousand died. A parent hung his child for fear that worse would happen to a young girl. It rained and there was a famine, and soldiers picked clean the last of the millet. Arrows tore into bare, naked bodies, left staked there as a message for others.
Men hurried through dark passages with dark designs, designs that they had not placed in motion, but a dead man, standing there, his eyes as placid and cool and clear as a lake right before a deluge.
And Kiralo stared back at him. Poison was taken, and bones were broken in torture in the brief eternity of nothing that he felt calling in his soul, like standing out over a wasteland. He saw it, so clearly and so absolutely, that for a moment he couldn't speak, his throat closed up.
It was as if the Gods themselves had given him that vision. It was so real that he had to keep from staggering under the weight of the name.
This was a disaster.
********
"Really? Do you swear it's him? Not just a game you're playing? Would you swear on your brother's life, and the life of all of your friend's children?" Kiralo asked, his voice hard and distant, the voice of a man who would happily see this a lie.
He wasn't bluffing.
This was not a matter to bluff on.
"Yes."
"But he was your… oh. Oh fuck."
Jinhai just smiled.
******
Ha'Dong.
"So, when he was advocating going against you suddenly and with such force that it'd seem folly, it wasn't merely that he was an idiot whose actions would have been counterproductive. He was urging mistakes in the name of hating you. He'd been your friend," Kiralo said. "An ally of yours, and so of course he wasn't betrayed. Of course he expected it. But he played his part to the hilt, and-- and he wanted to be in the army. If he was, and I died, then he'd take control and switch allegiance. And if he wasn't, and I lost, he'd be there to open up the gates and turn the army against itself."
"Well-reasoned," Jinhai said. "Where is he? I don't know, they haven't been willing to tell me that." Jinhai smirked. "I almost wanted not to tell you: after all, he was a friend of mine, once upon a time. I don't blame him for the cowardice of not openly supporting me, nor would I blame him for denying everything, now. Perhaps I'm a cruel man, but I see from your face that you've made a mistake."
Kiralo had put Ha'Dong all but in charge of an entire army. An entire province full of… witnesses. People and enemies who might speak against him, reveal him.
"What happened?" Jinhai asked.
"I put him in charge of Basrat," Kiralo said.
"You… what?" Jinhai asked, and for a moment, he looked so appalled that he didn't have any words, and then he shook his head. "Politics, wasn't it?"
"Yes. He was demanding something, and I thought him less likely to do harm in Basrat than fighting the Sea-Raiders."
Kiralo tried to breathe. So, obviously, the whole army was not compromised. Perhaps even most of it was entirely loyal to the Emperor. But some of it was compromised, and the man now had access and control to an entire province, at least until word came through the right channels to take that authority away.
"I've killed people again, haven't I?" Jinhai asked.
Ha'Dong's wisest move would be to make it impossible for anyone to get a letter revoking his authority… though to get that letter, he'd need to move fast and quietly to make sure the Emperor signed off on it. And then…
How to get the letter in?
Kiralo did remember that he had a man on the inside, a young noble… if he could manage this right, thousands would die instead of tens of thousands or more for the court's mistake. For his mistake, for that matter.
Kiralo turned on his heels, and ignored Jinhai's questions as he stormed out.
There was little enough time.
So, what's the plan?
[] Write-in.
******
Diplomacy: 1d100+23=115, 113, 83
Intrigue: 92.
Martial: 1d100+30+2=122
Intrigue: 92.
Martial: 1d100+30+2=122
A/N: Soooooo… how ya feeling? Also, you really lucked out on those rolls.
Last edited:
Random Member
Gardener of Human Happiness
- Location
- Behind You
I feel so pissed it went full circle and I started laughing.
Well played, well played indeed.
Well played, well played indeed.
Damn. That is a concundrum. Really the first point of call should be informing Kuojah given the nature of the betrayal, and also due to how it could relate to his reforms within Basrat. Then there's the question of if there are any Imperial authority we should inform? We know there ware those intrigue people, so perhaps it could become as simple as them assassinating him and unfortunately having to appoint someone new to lead the army.