notanautomaton
I've got 99 quests, I've finished one
Rolling
Edit: nvm
Edit: nvm
Behind the Serpent Throne (CK2)
- Thread starter The Laurent
- Start date
- Original Fantasy
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Alright, so, update is probably going to be on Tuesday.
Turn 7--Results, A
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Turn 7--Results A
The room was cleaner, and in way that no longer felt quite as personal. Still, that was not all that was different. Yanmae's expression was now different than any he'd seen before. Openly appraising the tapestry, her eyes that of a collector, perhaps. "It is...quite beautiful. I've heard rumors in the court that you received some payment for services rendered."
"How did you hear such a thing?" Kiralo asked, playing dumb.
"Eunuchs gossip. Not as much as maids," she said, tossing it out casually. Too casually, Kiralo realized. Like it was an excuse for the slight air of annoyance that she had been careful enough to almost, but not quite, hide when she met him.
"Ah. It is true that I agreed to help certain people by...helping other people." Kiralo paused and said, "It is strange, where we agree to help people by talking to one or two people and writing a few letters. The acts feel disconnected from the results. Deeds floating in space, though they certainly don't float when you're filling out paperwork."
"That...is an interesting perspective," Yanmae said, "Does it not feel real to someone who has lived outside the courts for so long? Or is it your character. Either way, you're here, I assume, for something other than showing up this lovely tapestry?"
She paused, as if startled at how forward she had been, and bowed her head slightly. He was, after all, her older brother, and thus she owed a certain degree of obedience and respect to him. But if he'd wanted to be politely nodded at by someone, he could be almost everywhere except here. He needed the Yanmae who was willing to talk to him, willing to explain things to him, because he was going to need to know more.
It was optimism, of course it was. But early in the morning he'd considered a thought he hadn't quite entertained. Not because he was sure he'd die, but because it was useless to spend too long speculating on certain things.
It was: what if I win? If I win, and if I am seen to be central to that, I will be a hero, he had thought. I will be someone whose voice matters even more, and I will have power, whether i use it or not. It was not power he was ready for, and more than that, it was power he had to use wisely. For this was the Emperor, and the Emperor's court. The very gods themselves had chosen the Emperors of Csirit, a dynasty of holy blood...and if not that, a symbolic holy blood (it was complicated) to rule the center of the world.
It was a weight that could crush a man.
"I am," he eventually said, "I want to ask about the law."
Yanmae opened her mouth and then closed it, taking a prim expression as she said, "I may try to answer with what little skill my womanly mind has."
Kiralo frowned, leaning forward, glancing at the tapestry and said, "I want to hear what you would have said, Cs-Yanmae."
"I was going to ask you to tell me about war. Hopefully in brief. Perhaps you could summarize war in a very pithy aphor--" Yanmae paused and shook her head, "You ask much, brother mine. I-if I'm being forward in my opinions."
"I know what I ask is large. I merely want to know a little bit of the law, and governance, no more than that," Kiralo asked, "And I cannot ask my father for tutoring, and I would not besides agree with the opinions he would insert with fact as a man might weave images in a tapestry."
"Ah, and you think me more likely to be…"
"Perhaps. Or perhaps I merely respect your opinion, Cs-Yanmae. Not everything is a game."
Yanmae's eyes doubted that, but her head nodded, and that was all he needed for now.
"So, I would ask, how many layers of law are there, from the lowest to the highest?" Kiralo asked, frowning as he thought of the questions he'd prepared. It wasn't the most inspiring one, but Yanmae nodded.
"It begins with the law of the village. According to custom and common dictates, though it often is not codified often," Yanmae said, "And cities have their own laws. There are attempts to compile them and make them the same across cities and villages and lands, and the third and higher law is the law of the Province. But because of the concessions of the Middle Days, there is also religious law, which operates at the same level as Provincial. And then there is the Imperial Law. And among these laws," she continued, as if running through a text, "There is much variance. Each province has a code of laws, and each level supersedes the one below it."
"And you want to codify Imperial Law?"
"Yes, I do," she said, "Because you see, it has been hundreds of years since that has been done in full, and it is overdue. The process would take decades to do, if one also tried to codify the lower laws with the higher. But as a process…"
She paused and bit her lip, "I told father, rightly, that it would be seen as one of his great achievements, and he tried to do it, but while he could begin the process, and had, the death of the Emperor has led to chaos. The lead scholar was a supporter of Prince Jinhai, and another of the major scholars had his own father die, and has withdrawn in mourning, and…"
She shook her head.
"It collapsed?" he asked.
"In essence," she said. "Though the Imperial decree mandating the act is still there. It will still be something started under the initiative of our father."
"Great," Kiralo said, and then paused, "And you want to save it?"
Yanmae paused, frowning, her small, delicate face showing a mix of emotions before settling on a bland mask, "Yes. Yes I do."
"Well, then I'd like to know more about the differences between Provinicial and Imperial Law."
"I...can tell you that. And I have read some of the history of why and how it has changed," Yanmae said, "But it will take more than one lesson."
"I am willing to learn," Kiralo said, looking at her with a little suspicion. There were things she was hiding. Plans and ideas and schemes, and the thought was...okay, it wasn't surprising. But it was a thing that was seen rarely enough in women, in his experience. And she was surprisingly good, when not flustered or trying to reveal it, at pretending to be...proper.
He supposed that Kuojah's training would have taught her that, if nothing else.
Gain +1 Stewardship.
******
"So you arrive," the man said, standing in the training room. It was a large, empty room, with only mats on the floors to enliven it. He supposed they would be necessary, if one was going to kneel to scribe scrolls...or if one was going to fight here. The man standing across from him...the young man, in fact, had a serious look on his face. "I thought you would come. And I am ready to meet my destiny, with these two hands of mine--"
"Good," Kiralo said, feeling familiar already. He'd met plenty of young men like this, and it was clear that he wanted to be taken seriously. Certainly, he had the skills for it. He had the skills to be taken seriously anywhere. He'd been here, more or less, and he wasn't that far removed from that sort of mindset. Ji'lae stood there, stock still for a long time, and then he nodded.
"We have been waiting, you know? We've been talking ever since New Years' that there would be war, and that you would be there. It was...we have been eager, eager and young, and aware that you might have some service for us to do. And some payment. I know it is said by some that no good man becomes a soldier, but it is also said in foreign lands that in war, even a pebble might find its way to the top of the highest mountain."
He nodded, once, firmly, at Kiralo. "War is opportunity, it is a chance for us to rise further and faster than we would have. It is a chance for wealth, and I've promised many people as much, that you had seen and watched and been impressed." And then he felt it, the gliding moment of vulnerability.
Ji'lae had put himself out on a limb. He had hoped. He had planned. For a full month, without hearing anything from Kiralo.
It was...excellent in a way, if also sad in another sense. "I have been."
"But have I been impressed by you?" Ji'lae asked, "I would like to fight you. I would like to see what sort of general you are."
Kiralo did not say what he thought, which was that any man who judged a general by how he fought one on one was making a mistake. Instead he pointed out, "I am a Rassit. A fight against me would involve me on horseback, running away and tearing you apart with arrows."
"Ah, but...fight here. On foot. I know you know the art of the blade, and I know that a man can use a bow on foot, if need be," Ji'lae said, "I want to see just what your power is. It would...impress others."
Does Kiralo Agree?
[] No. Take a moderate penalty to the result of the roll for 'Gang of Roughs.' Note, it would still be a success, I've already rolled for it. Just slightly less of one.
[] Yes. A flat failure/bad luck creates a steeper than moderate penalty, fight well and lose and get a slight bonus, win and get a bigger bonus.
-[] Close the distance, fighting with the sword primarily, even if he also has a bow and arrow.
-[] Try to open up the distance in wherever they agree to fight. Use a bow, it is Kiralo's best weapon, after all.
-[] Ji'lae is a Mage. As a Mage, he no doubt has quite a few tricks. Kiralo should use his own tricks to draw out Ji'lae's first, before then deciding how to proceed. But that does put him in a magic contest with a Mage.
*****
A/N: So it's short, but!
The room was cleaner, and in way that no longer felt quite as personal. Still, that was not all that was different. Yanmae's expression was now different than any he'd seen before. Openly appraising the tapestry, her eyes that of a collector, perhaps. "It is...quite beautiful. I've heard rumors in the court that you received some payment for services rendered."
"How did you hear such a thing?" Kiralo asked, playing dumb.
"Eunuchs gossip. Not as much as maids," she said, tossing it out casually. Too casually, Kiralo realized. Like it was an excuse for the slight air of annoyance that she had been careful enough to almost, but not quite, hide when she met him.
"Ah. It is true that I agreed to help certain people by...helping other people." Kiralo paused and said, "It is strange, where we agree to help people by talking to one or two people and writing a few letters. The acts feel disconnected from the results. Deeds floating in space, though they certainly don't float when you're filling out paperwork."
"That...is an interesting perspective," Yanmae said, "Does it not feel real to someone who has lived outside the courts for so long? Or is it your character. Either way, you're here, I assume, for something other than showing up this lovely tapestry?"
She paused, as if startled at how forward she had been, and bowed her head slightly. He was, after all, her older brother, and thus she owed a certain degree of obedience and respect to him. But if he'd wanted to be politely nodded at by someone, he could be almost everywhere except here. He needed the Yanmae who was willing to talk to him, willing to explain things to him, because he was going to need to know more.
It was optimism, of course it was. But early in the morning he'd considered a thought he hadn't quite entertained. Not because he was sure he'd die, but because it was useless to spend too long speculating on certain things.
It was: what if I win? If I win, and if I am seen to be central to that, I will be a hero, he had thought. I will be someone whose voice matters even more, and I will have power, whether i use it or not. It was not power he was ready for, and more than that, it was power he had to use wisely. For this was the Emperor, and the Emperor's court. The very gods themselves had chosen the Emperors of Csirit, a dynasty of holy blood...and if not that, a symbolic holy blood (it was complicated) to rule the center of the world.
It was a weight that could crush a man.
"I am," he eventually said, "I want to ask about the law."
Yanmae opened her mouth and then closed it, taking a prim expression as she said, "I may try to answer with what little skill my womanly mind has."
Kiralo frowned, leaning forward, glancing at the tapestry and said, "I want to hear what you would have said, Cs-Yanmae."
"I was going to ask you to tell me about war. Hopefully in brief. Perhaps you could summarize war in a very pithy aphor--" Yanmae paused and shook her head, "You ask much, brother mine. I-if I'm being forward in my opinions."
"I know what I ask is large. I merely want to know a little bit of the law, and governance, no more than that," Kiralo asked, "And I cannot ask my father for tutoring, and I would not besides agree with the opinions he would insert with fact as a man might weave images in a tapestry."
"Ah, and you think me more likely to be…"
"Perhaps. Or perhaps I merely respect your opinion, Cs-Yanmae. Not everything is a game."
Yanmae's eyes doubted that, but her head nodded, and that was all he needed for now.
"So, I would ask, how many layers of law are there, from the lowest to the highest?" Kiralo asked, frowning as he thought of the questions he'd prepared. It wasn't the most inspiring one, but Yanmae nodded.
"It begins with the law of the village. According to custom and common dictates, though it often is not codified often," Yanmae said, "And cities have their own laws. There are attempts to compile them and make them the same across cities and villages and lands, and the third and higher law is the law of the Province. But because of the concessions of the Middle Days, there is also religious law, which operates at the same level as Provincial. And then there is the Imperial Law. And among these laws," she continued, as if running through a text, "There is much variance. Each province has a code of laws, and each level supersedes the one below it."
"And you want to codify Imperial Law?"
"Yes, I do," she said, "Because you see, it has been hundreds of years since that has been done in full, and it is overdue. The process would take decades to do, if one also tried to codify the lower laws with the higher. But as a process…"
She paused and bit her lip, "I told father, rightly, that it would be seen as one of his great achievements, and he tried to do it, but while he could begin the process, and had, the death of the Emperor has led to chaos. The lead scholar was a supporter of Prince Jinhai, and another of the major scholars had his own father die, and has withdrawn in mourning, and…"
She shook her head.
"It collapsed?" he asked.
"In essence," she said. "Though the Imperial decree mandating the act is still there. It will still be something started under the initiative of our father."
"Great," Kiralo said, and then paused, "And you want to save it?"
Yanmae paused, frowning, her small, delicate face showing a mix of emotions before settling on a bland mask, "Yes. Yes I do."
"Well, then I'd like to know more about the differences between Provinicial and Imperial Law."
"I...can tell you that. And I have read some of the history of why and how it has changed," Yanmae said, "But it will take more than one lesson."
"I am willing to learn," Kiralo said, looking at her with a little suspicion. There were things she was hiding. Plans and ideas and schemes, and the thought was...okay, it wasn't surprising. But it was a thing that was seen rarely enough in women, in his experience. And she was surprisingly good, when not flustered or trying to reveal it, at pretending to be...proper.
He supposed that Kuojah's training would have taught her that, if nothing else.
Gain +1 Stewardship.
******
"So you arrive," the man said, standing in the training room. It was a large, empty room, with only mats on the floors to enliven it. He supposed they would be necessary, if one was going to kneel to scribe scrolls...or if one was going to fight here. The man standing across from him...the young man, in fact, had a serious look on his face. "I thought you would come. And I am ready to meet my destiny, with these two hands of mine--"
"Good," Kiralo said, feeling familiar already. He'd met plenty of young men like this, and it was clear that he wanted to be taken seriously. Certainly, he had the skills for it. He had the skills to be taken seriously anywhere. He'd been here, more or less, and he wasn't that far removed from that sort of mindset. Ji'lae stood there, stock still for a long time, and then he nodded.
"We have been waiting, you know? We've been talking ever since New Years' that there would be war, and that you would be there. It was...we have been eager, eager and young, and aware that you might have some service for us to do. And some payment. I know it is said by some that no good man becomes a soldier, but it is also said in foreign lands that in war, even a pebble might find its way to the top of the highest mountain."
He nodded, once, firmly, at Kiralo. "War is opportunity, it is a chance for us to rise further and faster than we would have. It is a chance for wealth, and I've promised many people as much, that you had seen and watched and been impressed." And then he felt it, the gliding moment of vulnerability.
Ji'lae had put himself out on a limb. He had hoped. He had planned. For a full month, without hearing anything from Kiralo.
It was...excellent in a way, if also sad in another sense. "I have been."
"But have I been impressed by you?" Ji'lae asked, "I would like to fight you. I would like to see what sort of general you are."
Kiralo did not say what he thought, which was that any man who judged a general by how he fought one on one was making a mistake. Instead he pointed out, "I am a Rassit. A fight against me would involve me on horseback, running away and tearing you apart with arrows."
"Ah, but...fight here. On foot. I know you know the art of the blade, and I know that a man can use a bow on foot, if need be," Ji'lae said, "I want to see just what your power is. It would...impress others."
Does Kiralo Agree?
[] No. Take a moderate penalty to the result of the roll for 'Gang of Roughs.' Note, it would still be a success, I've already rolled for it. Just slightly less of one.
[] Yes. A flat failure/bad luck creates a steeper than moderate penalty, fight well and lose and get a slight bonus, win and get a bigger bonus.
-[] Close the distance, fighting with the sword primarily, even if he also has a bow and arrow.
-[] Try to open up the distance in wherever they agree to fight. Use a bow, it is Kiralo's best weapon, after all.
-[] Ji'lae is a Mage. As a Mage, he no doubt has quite a few tricks. Kiralo should use his own tricks to draw out Ji'lae's first, before then deciding how to proceed. But that does put him in a magic contest with a Mage.
*****
[] A Lesson In Laws
-[] Gift her a tapestry
Need: 35/55/70, Rolled: 1d100+7+10 (Tapestry)=54
-[] Gift her a tapestry
Need: 35/55/70, Rolled: 1d100+7+10 (Tapestry)=54
A/N: So it's short, but!
Random Member
Gardener of Human Happiness
- Location
- Behind You
Not to sound petty, but the 'Sister Act' roll was for this action, right? I rolled a 38 on that, so shouldn't the final roll be 38+7+10=55, meaning we passed the second treshold? Or was that for a secondary roll, not related to the result of the action itself?
- Pronouns
- They/Them
It was the secondary roll.
[X] Yes. A flat failure/bad luck creates a steeper than moderate penalty, fight well and lose and get a slight bonus, win and get a bigger bonus.
-[X] Try to open up the distance in wherever they agree to fight. Use a bow, it is Kiralo's best weapon, after all.
Kiralo has sexceptional martial to come up with a workable plan, and decent personal combat to hopefully pull it off. I've gone with using a bow as that's presumably where Kiralo is most experienced, and knows the most beneficial spirits to aid him.
-[X] Try to open up the distance in wherever they agree to fight. Use a bow, it is Kiralo's best weapon, after all.
Kiralo has sexceptional martial to come up with a workable plan, and decent personal combat to hopefully pull it off. I've gone with using a bow as that's presumably where Kiralo is most experienced, and knows the most beneficial spirits to aid him.
Zeitgeist Blue
Currently Made of Metal
- Location
- Manila, Philippines, GMT +8
That roll though... It's mocking us.
[X] Yes. A flat failure/bad luck creates a steeper than moderate penalty, fight well and lose and get a slight bonus, win and get a bigger bonus.
-[X] Try to open up the distance in wherever they agree to fight. Use a bow, it is Kiralo's best weapon, after all.
While we don't have a trait that ups our Personal Combat when using a bow, we'll be fighting with a full +18 on our roll. Barring hilariously one-sided rolls, we can give a good fight at the least.
[X] Yes. A flat failure/bad luck creates a steeper than moderate penalty, fight well and lose and get a slight bonus, win and get a bigger bonus.
-[X] Try to open up the distance in wherever they agree to fight. Use a bow, it is Kiralo's best weapon, after all.
While we don't have a trait that ups our Personal Combat when using a bow, we'll be fighting with a full +18 on our roll. Barring hilariously one-sided rolls, we can give a good fight at the least.
- Location
- Germany
[X] Yes. A flat failure/bad luck creates a steeper than moderate penalty, fight well and lose and get a slight bonus, win and get a bigger bonus.
-[X] Try to open up the distance in wherever they agree to fight. Use a bow, it is Kiralo's best weapon, after all.
Even if we don't win, we will learn something abot how Ji'lae fights, which we help us determine how make the best use of the gang of roughs.
-[X] Try to open up the distance in wherever they agree to fight. Use a bow, it is Kiralo's best weapon, after all.
Even if we don't win, we will learn something abot how Ji'lae fights, which we help us determine how make the best use of the gang of roughs.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Vote closes Friday evening.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
While aware of how one-sided this is...vote closed, tally please. Update Monday.
Random Member
Gardener of Human Happiness
- Location
- Behind You
Is a tally even necessary?
*shrug*
*shrug*
Vote Tally : Original - Fantasy - Behind the Serpent Throne (CK2) | Page 82 | Sufficient Velocity
##### NetTally 1.7.3.2
[X] Yes. A flat failure/bad luck creates a steeper than moderate penalty, fight well and lose and get a slight bonus, win and get a bigger bonus.
-[X] Try to open up the distance in wherever they agree to fight. Use a bow, it is Kiralo's best weapon, after all.
No. of Votes: 6
Total No. of Voters: 6
##### NetTally 1.7.3.2
[X] Yes. A flat failure/bad luck creates a steeper than moderate penalty, fight well and lose and get a slight bonus, win and get a bigger bonus.
-[X] Try to open up the distance in wherever they agree to fight. Use a bow, it is Kiralo's best weapon, after all.
No. of Votes: 6
Total No. of Voters: 6
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Surprised that the votes have gone down again. Eh.
Random Member
Gardener of Human Happiness
- Location
- Behind You
Meh, when a vote is so one-sided, some people who'd normally vote tend not to vote.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
*slams head against the table.*
...you're killing me here.
...you're killing me here.
Random Member
Gardener of Human Happiness
- Location
- Behind You
What's wrong?
- Pronouns
- They/Them
You'll see on Monday.
- Location
- ?
But are you killing us? That's the question
Turn 7--Results, B
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Turn 7--B
Duels had been a part of the traditional history far more than perhaps they should be. Even though they were out of fashion in Csirit, down south he'd seen plenty of duelists, and he'd seen people fight one on one, certainly. One didn't ride as a Rassit and not see the small scale action where one person pitted themselves against another.
But Kiralo ultimately thought that the whole format was ridiculous in a certain way. And so he dressed in his armor, and had to tell himself again and again that this was serious. That this would be a real duel, dangerous and powerful...even if they were using wooden swords and blunted arrowheads, each marked with dust that would mark the places where each blow hit.
Rassit armor wasn't meant for a duel, but then neither was he. He closed his eyes and calmly strode into the room two hours later ready for combat. Only to find that he had an audience. Dozens and dozens of courtiers and soldiers, all crowding around the edges of the training room.
"What rules are there?" Kiralo asked.
"None once we begin. I have brought," Ji'lae said, " A judge who will fairly indicate when this combat is done."
He was wearing heavier armor than expected, lamellar plates in place, in a yellow-green pattern that was clearly meant to invoke the Imperial colors. The young man looked across the distance, dozens of paces, and Kiralo saw in those eyes determination. Determination and a steady confidence as the young man moved his hand towards the sheath of his sword.
"We begin on three?" Kiralo asked, holding up his bow as he did. Short, but long enough for these close ranges, easily.
"Yes," said a rotund man in a iritu that had hints of imperial green. "You begin on three."
"Three." It started with muttering. Kiralo ran through the names of the spirits, of wood and wind, of arrows themselves. He had one chance to truly gain an advantage. Without the tip, he couldn't do some things, but he thought it was possible to punch through that armor. Or get him in the neck, and then the armor.
He had options, if he could just act. The longer the fight lasted…
"Two."
The worse it would be. No man rides a horse that long and fights and acts as a soldier for that long without building up some stamina, but in the long run, this was a young man who had devoted himself to the spirits and the blade. Even the spirits of stone whom he could call on wouldn't be enough in the long term to allow Kiralo to keep up. And in a fight, a moment of exhaustion meant death. He'd watched people die, and he'd killed people, who'd exhausted themselves and made a simple, sloppy mistake.
"One."
He drew, and fired what was a perfect shot. The spirits screamed their approval, and the arrow lanced through the air, seeming to cut it aside. And then in an act that he'd only heard of in stories, Ji'lae cut the arrow out of the air, the spirits scattering in terror as he roared and ran at Kiralo, who preferred to save his breathing, drawing another arrow.
He notched it and loosed it in a single breath. It was meaningless to think, to aim, when death was coming towards you. You face it or run away if you can. He smiled and watched the arrow slam into the other man's armor at the shoulder.
And the other man faltered for just a moment. Perhaps he hadn't expected the arrow to hurt as much as it did? Either way, Kiralo drew and fired again, but this time Ji'lae was moving, a growling blur, and the arrow simply bounced against his leg briefly on its way past, and then Ji'lae was upon him with a downward chop followed by a thrust, which Kiralo knew would be--
But knowing was nothing. The bodies and spirits reacted, and even without spirits Ji'lae was no doubt impossibly fast. With spirits, he was a blur, and his sword was a bright glimpse of the moon beyond clouds. A sign of death itself. Kiralo thought himself lucky to twist out of the way, the sword only briefly resting on his lower armor, but Ji'lae was still moving, and Kiralo retreated, tossing aside his bow as carefully as he could and drawing just in time to turn what might have been a 'fatal' blow into a rough blow to his side.
His ribs ached, and the battle was only a few seconds old. Ji'lae looked like one of the Judges themselves, his face stern and all knowing, even imperious, his every sword swing and thrust and cut perfect. Not just perfect, but practiced: not from a book. He knew to not invest too much in this slash there, because if he did Kiralo could make him pay for it.
Kiralo's lighter sword, an imitation of the Rassit sword he used, was not up to the task of taking the brunt of the damage, and he reached out, shoving Ji'lae as he whispered the names of the spirits of strength and stone. Ji'lae stumbled, more surprised than hurt, and Kiralo's sword glanced off his chest plate, marking it with a red streak as it did.
Kiralo almost didn't have the breath to mutter already, and he took a few steps back, wondering if Ji'lae would be foolish enough to give him a moment to breath--
No, he supposed not as he was driven back and back, his sides aching and his lungs screaming for mercy.
"Getting tired already?" Ji'lae asked, sounding almost confused, though his breath too seemed to be coming a little quickly, sweat starting to pool on his brows, as it had on Kiralo's. "Well…"
And then he surged forward, and the winds at his back slammed Kiralo's arm away, and he almost dropped his sword as Ji'lae leapt in an impossible downward sweep that was executed a little too slow. He could almost feel the wind of the…
He felt the wound almost open. The blade had been charged with spirits of wind to lash out. But a little blood on the neck wouldn't end it, surely? Kiralo swung at him as he landed.
By now, his arms were starting to ache with the force of the blows, but he knew his sword blows. Had trained at this, whereas Ji'lae was...was…
He reached out and grabbed Ji'lae's right arm and tugged him forward, rolling as if trying to pin him, but then letting him go at the apex of the tug. Ji'lae's sword swung by his head, the wood moments from dealing what would have been a deathly blow, and Kiralo's heart raced in excitement as he slammed his sword into Ji'lae's stomach and then followed up with another slash, and another. His hand didn't waver, his arm did not shake.
That was an advantage to the help of spirits. The more one faltered, the more they could hold one up, if one was trusted by them. If one trusted them. If one knew their names and had taken time to make sure they would come when you called. So they fought on with ferocity that didn't flag, but Kiralo saw the way that each of them were calling on more and more just to keep up.
Ji'lae, who had been a terrifying blur before, his every motion so perfect it made Kiralo realize just what he'd been missing, strong enough that he was reminded of Kueli, who probably could have won the fight already, and who, for someone even older than Kiralo, possessed the kind of stamina that would have served him well.
Kiralo kept it up, sweat rolling down his eyes as he dealt a glancing blow to Ji'lae's side. Neither of them was wearing helmets, which in a real fight would be a mistake. The only way he was going to win was a blow to the head. With his level of power and the spirits he had, a blow like that would be clearly fatal to just about anyone if it were his real sword. There were stories of sages able to block a sword with their bare hands, but Kiralo had seen Ji'lae fight, and that wasn't something he could have managed.
Not yet, at least.
Kiralo felt old, even at twenty-five, fighting this young man. Not even a warrior, technically, for all he'd studied it. He'd never fought a campaign against bandits, or a battle (though that was excusable, battles were rare enough all things considered) and yet he'd honed himself into a weapon so potent that every second of fighting him stretched and stretched until Kiralo just wanted to end this.
One way or another. Ji'lae got another hit in, and it was enough to break his concentration and push him back. Now the fight was going the wrong way, and each moment was another chance to fail.
Sometimes a fight was all down to trying not to die. There was no time to think, even to use spirits beyond the ones that knew what to do on their own. He leapt back, landing roughly, and held his sword out after a particularly rough few seconds, his every breath burning his lungs with desperate need for air. But there was something else there as he looked at Ji'lae, who didn't immediately spring after him.
This time, he was waiting. "You're impressive, for someone already at your prime, for someone who just fights cavalry," Ji'lae said, and Kiralo hated that he sounded merely winded instead of exhausted. It was just...maybe six or seven years difference, yet it seemed to come with a reserve of confidence…
"You're impressive, for someone...who…" Kiralo held his sword straighter, "Who…"
And then he charged. Ji'lae actually reacted a little slow, surprised and perhaps wanting to hear Kiralo's banter. The sword struck against is arm, and then Kiralo was leaning into each stroke as hard as he could, and Ji'lae's reactions were a little slower. It was still enough to knock him back with a thrust to his chest that would have been fatal without armor...perhaps even with a wooden sword. Kiralo stumbled back, his feet already righting themselves, and grunted with effort as he counterattacked.
The audience had started yelling, but Kiralo didn't pay their words any mind. It didn't matter. This fight was going to take everything out of him that it could, and he'd probably still lose. So he might as well do his best.
The world was hot and cramped and each action, each strike, each feeling filled him with a sort of paring away of everything else. 'Know death and you know battle' the saying went.
Ji'lae was making mistakes now. But Kiralo was pretty sure that nobody outside of this fight realized it, Kiralo thought. Kiralo was not stepping fast enough, he wasn't moving his body quickly enough. A minute ago, or more--all sense of time in the fight had long ago fled--this would have meant his defeat. It should have meant he lost, but instead Ji'lae missed the opportunity. Kiralo was going to lose, but he needed to fight all out and hope for a mistake.
And then he got it.
Ji'lae's foot twisted as he tried to retreat from a furious, but brief, burst of action from Kiralo, and Kiralo's sword slammed against his side, and he almost topped, kicking out in a perfect stomach kick that Kiralo just barely dodged, slamming his own leg into Ji'lae's other leg to send him sprawling on the ground, almost collapsing from the effort as he swung his sword around and rested it on Ji'lae's throat.
"Sur…"
But he didn't even have the breath for that.
"I...give," Ji'lae said, sounding shocked. "You...by Ishin and the Ten Judges…"
Kiralo was just panting, but he held his sword level, even as the rest of him spasmed in pain. His legs were fine, he was a rider, but his other arm--for he held the sword with one hand now--was shaking, and sweat was soaking through everywhere.
"That was...how did you know to--"
"Experience," Kiralo said. "Give it a year, and if you live through a war, you'll be able to beat me without even trying. If you want to see a war."
"I do, I do more than anything else. With a war I could prove that I was worth more than anyone else, worth fame and glory and…"
He shook his head, flushing and slowly working to stand as the crowd yelled its shock and perhaps approval. The soldiers, for one, were yelling as if they didn't have training to do, and the courtiers were politely applauding even as others stamped their feet.
Kiralo offered his hand. "Well, you'll have a chance."
That's all Kiralo had wanted, too. A chance.
Major Gains (From the crits, Choose 3)
[] Reroll the Academy Bureaucracy option (it was a failure, if you're wondering.)
[] One of the soldiers spreads the tale around, and his victory reaches many ears, adding to Kiralo's reputation.
[] Having pushed himself to his limits, Kiralo has found strength on the other side. +1 to Personal Combat.
[] Kiralo has made not merely a servant, but a friend through this battle. Or perhaps just someone who likes to tag along, because now Ji'lae's trying to talk to him.
[] The rumors of a job have drawn more and more skilled Mages than expected. Coming out of their holes in something of a swarm.
Moderate Gains (Choose 5)
[] Hi'sen: A northerner who is said to have a real talent for calling upon spirits to heal injuries. There were rumors, apparently, that he was going to be placed on the staff of, say, a Governor if he successfully completed his challenging duel-lessons as doctor and Mage, but shockingly he has declared that he would rather make his name by working with the army. In his early 20s.
[] Hano: A bastard from Hari-Bueli, he has risen this far on fire and spirit, yes, but also a real skill with, apparently, defensive magic and a dedication to Csirit equal to the person he was named after, Hanae. Despite suspicions of his Bueli blood, he's proven himself loyal.
[] Qinlun: A young prodigy, he is only fourteen and yet many apparently rave about his flawless brush-strokes and cunning understanding of spirits. He lacks experience, and is in fact the son of a noble and a respected concubine, raised on dreams and with long fingers, and yet he apparently looks up to Ji'lae and has managed to convince the Academy to give him a pass to stop his education for a time to serve as a junior magical aide to the army, if Kiralo will have him.
[] Deshi: Almost Kiralo's age, he is the son of a solider, and physically skilled, and startlingly tall, which has no doubt led to rumors about his blood. Either way, he is known for the speed of his bindings, and his skill at unleashing spirits in scrolls with a quick, supple will that means that in a direct fight using spirits, none can beat him, and if it gets close, he's apparently almost as good at Ji'lae in a fight.
[] Gen'he: A strange one, he's in his early twenties and while he does know some combat abilities, his main skill is in long-term spirit-work, such as binding spirits to protect an army while it is sleeping, or using spirits to enhance the strength and fortitude of a castle.
[] Bao'ren: The son of a merchant, Bao'ren was in fact a 'Street Spirit-catcher' as they are called until he was thirteen, and he still specializes in finding spirits even in the wilderness. And along those same lines, he knows what sorts of spirits can be found where, leading to this city-boy having a skillset that might well be perfect for the army on the march.
[] Ji'lae has heard of a distant fugitive of sorts, who, despite their young age, has done much. He's said to be skilled in the Sage styles of the Southlands, and in fact he is said to perhaps be one of them. Ji'lae has been somewhat mum on this person. Except to endorse them as skilled.
[] Jaw-lung: Named for the ancient invasion of Sea-Raiders that his distant ancestor was said to have seen off, he grew interested in the Sea-Raiders magical arts, as well as those of the Anlan, and he has a strange obsession with cannons. Guns. Things that make explosions. On a battlefield, he's the first to go for the big, flashy spirit. Off the battlefield, he's more likely to improve equipment and work on customized weaponry and armament combinations for soldiers.
Minor Gains
Dozens of other Mages have pledged to join up, which is a pretty good haul.
*****
A/N: Okay. So. That...happened.
I can't believe you actually won.
Dear fuck those roll.
Duels had been a part of the traditional history far more than perhaps they should be. Even though they were out of fashion in Csirit, down south he'd seen plenty of duelists, and he'd seen people fight one on one, certainly. One didn't ride as a Rassit and not see the small scale action where one person pitted themselves against another.
But Kiralo ultimately thought that the whole format was ridiculous in a certain way. And so he dressed in his armor, and had to tell himself again and again that this was serious. That this would be a real duel, dangerous and powerful...even if they were using wooden swords and blunted arrowheads, each marked with dust that would mark the places where each blow hit.
Rassit armor wasn't meant for a duel, but then neither was he. He closed his eyes and calmly strode into the room two hours later ready for combat. Only to find that he had an audience. Dozens and dozens of courtiers and soldiers, all crowding around the edges of the training room.
"What rules are there?" Kiralo asked.
"None once we begin. I have brought," Ji'lae said, " A judge who will fairly indicate when this combat is done."
He was wearing heavier armor than expected, lamellar plates in place, in a yellow-green pattern that was clearly meant to invoke the Imperial colors. The young man looked across the distance, dozens of paces, and Kiralo saw in those eyes determination. Determination and a steady confidence as the young man moved his hand towards the sheath of his sword.
"We begin on three?" Kiralo asked, holding up his bow as he did. Short, but long enough for these close ranges, easily.
"Yes," said a rotund man in a iritu that had hints of imperial green. "You begin on three."
"Three." It started with muttering. Kiralo ran through the names of the spirits, of wood and wind, of arrows themselves. He had one chance to truly gain an advantage. Without the tip, he couldn't do some things, but he thought it was possible to punch through that armor. Or get him in the neck, and then the armor.
He had options, if he could just act. The longer the fight lasted…
"Two."
The worse it would be. No man rides a horse that long and fights and acts as a soldier for that long without building up some stamina, but in the long run, this was a young man who had devoted himself to the spirits and the blade. Even the spirits of stone whom he could call on wouldn't be enough in the long term to allow Kiralo to keep up. And in a fight, a moment of exhaustion meant death. He'd watched people die, and he'd killed people, who'd exhausted themselves and made a simple, sloppy mistake.
"One."
He drew, and fired what was a perfect shot. The spirits screamed their approval, and the arrow lanced through the air, seeming to cut it aside. And then in an act that he'd only heard of in stories, Ji'lae cut the arrow out of the air, the spirits scattering in terror as he roared and ran at Kiralo, who preferred to save his breathing, drawing another arrow.
He notched it and loosed it in a single breath. It was meaningless to think, to aim, when death was coming towards you. You face it or run away if you can. He smiled and watched the arrow slam into the other man's armor at the shoulder.
And the other man faltered for just a moment. Perhaps he hadn't expected the arrow to hurt as much as it did? Either way, Kiralo drew and fired again, but this time Ji'lae was moving, a growling blur, and the arrow simply bounced against his leg briefly on its way past, and then Ji'lae was upon him with a downward chop followed by a thrust, which Kiralo knew would be--
But knowing was nothing. The bodies and spirits reacted, and even without spirits Ji'lae was no doubt impossibly fast. With spirits, he was a blur, and his sword was a bright glimpse of the moon beyond clouds. A sign of death itself. Kiralo thought himself lucky to twist out of the way, the sword only briefly resting on his lower armor, but Ji'lae was still moving, and Kiralo retreated, tossing aside his bow as carefully as he could and drawing just in time to turn what might have been a 'fatal' blow into a rough blow to his side.
His ribs ached, and the battle was only a few seconds old. Ji'lae looked like one of the Judges themselves, his face stern and all knowing, even imperious, his every sword swing and thrust and cut perfect. Not just perfect, but practiced: not from a book. He knew to not invest too much in this slash there, because if he did Kiralo could make him pay for it.
Kiralo's lighter sword, an imitation of the Rassit sword he used, was not up to the task of taking the brunt of the damage, and he reached out, shoving Ji'lae as he whispered the names of the spirits of strength and stone. Ji'lae stumbled, more surprised than hurt, and Kiralo's sword glanced off his chest plate, marking it with a red streak as it did.
Kiralo almost didn't have the breath to mutter already, and he took a few steps back, wondering if Ji'lae would be foolish enough to give him a moment to breath--
No, he supposed not as he was driven back and back, his sides aching and his lungs screaming for mercy.
"Getting tired already?" Ji'lae asked, sounding almost confused, though his breath too seemed to be coming a little quickly, sweat starting to pool on his brows, as it had on Kiralo's. "Well…"
And then he surged forward, and the winds at his back slammed Kiralo's arm away, and he almost dropped his sword as Ji'lae leapt in an impossible downward sweep that was executed a little too slow. He could almost feel the wind of the…
He felt the wound almost open. The blade had been charged with spirits of wind to lash out. But a little blood on the neck wouldn't end it, surely? Kiralo swung at him as he landed.
By now, his arms were starting to ache with the force of the blows, but he knew his sword blows. Had trained at this, whereas Ji'lae was...was…
He reached out and grabbed Ji'lae's right arm and tugged him forward, rolling as if trying to pin him, but then letting him go at the apex of the tug. Ji'lae's sword swung by his head, the wood moments from dealing what would have been a deathly blow, and Kiralo's heart raced in excitement as he slammed his sword into Ji'lae's stomach and then followed up with another slash, and another. His hand didn't waver, his arm did not shake.
That was an advantage to the help of spirits. The more one faltered, the more they could hold one up, if one was trusted by them. If one trusted them. If one knew their names and had taken time to make sure they would come when you called. So they fought on with ferocity that didn't flag, but Kiralo saw the way that each of them were calling on more and more just to keep up.
Ji'lae, who had been a terrifying blur before, his every motion so perfect it made Kiralo realize just what he'd been missing, strong enough that he was reminded of Kueli, who probably could have won the fight already, and who, for someone even older than Kiralo, possessed the kind of stamina that would have served him well.
Kiralo kept it up, sweat rolling down his eyes as he dealt a glancing blow to Ji'lae's side. Neither of them was wearing helmets, which in a real fight would be a mistake. The only way he was going to win was a blow to the head. With his level of power and the spirits he had, a blow like that would be clearly fatal to just about anyone if it were his real sword. There were stories of sages able to block a sword with their bare hands, but Kiralo had seen Ji'lae fight, and that wasn't something he could have managed.
Not yet, at least.
Kiralo felt old, even at twenty-five, fighting this young man. Not even a warrior, technically, for all he'd studied it. He'd never fought a campaign against bandits, or a battle (though that was excusable, battles were rare enough all things considered) and yet he'd honed himself into a weapon so potent that every second of fighting him stretched and stretched until Kiralo just wanted to end this.
One way or another. Ji'lae got another hit in, and it was enough to break his concentration and push him back. Now the fight was going the wrong way, and each moment was another chance to fail.
Sometimes a fight was all down to trying not to die. There was no time to think, even to use spirits beyond the ones that knew what to do on their own. He leapt back, landing roughly, and held his sword out after a particularly rough few seconds, his every breath burning his lungs with desperate need for air. But there was something else there as he looked at Ji'lae, who didn't immediately spring after him.
This time, he was waiting. "You're impressive, for someone already at your prime, for someone who just fights cavalry," Ji'lae said, and Kiralo hated that he sounded merely winded instead of exhausted. It was just...maybe six or seven years difference, yet it seemed to come with a reserve of confidence…
"You're impressive, for someone...who…" Kiralo held his sword straighter, "Who…"
And then he charged. Ji'lae actually reacted a little slow, surprised and perhaps wanting to hear Kiralo's banter. The sword struck against is arm, and then Kiralo was leaning into each stroke as hard as he could, and Ji'lae's reactions were a little slower. It was still enough to knock him back with a thrust to his chest that would have been fatal without armor...perhaps even with a wooden sword. Kiralo stumbled back, his feet already righting themselves, and grunted with effort as he counterattacked.
The audience had started yelling, but Kiralo didn't pay their words any mind. It didn't matter. This fight was going to take everything out of him that it could, and he'd probably still lose. So he might as well do his best.
The world was hot and cramped and each action, each strike, each feeling filled him with a sort of paring away of everything else. 'Know death and you know battle' the saying went.
Ji'lae was making mistakes now. But Kiralo was pretty sure that nobody outside of this fight realized it, Kiralo thought. Kiralo was not stepping fast enough, he wasn't moving his body quickly enough. A minute ago, or more--all sense of time in the fight had long ago fled--this would have meant his defeat. It should have meant he lost, but instead Ji'lae missed the opportunity. Kiralo was going to lose, but he needed to fight all out and hope for a mistake.
And then he got it.
Ji'lae's foot twisted as he tried to retreat from a furious, but brief, burst of action from Kiralo, and Kiralo's sword slammed against his side, and he almost topped, kicking out in a perfect stomach kick that Kiralo just barely dodged, slamming his own leg into Ji'lae's other leg to send him sprawling on the ground, almost collapsing from the effort as he swung his sword around and rested it on Ji'lae's throat.
"Sur…"
But he didn't even have the breath for that.
"I...give," Ji'lae said, sounding shocked. "You...by Ishin and the Ten Judges…"
Kiralo was just panting, but he held his sword level, even as the rest of him spasmed in pain. His legs were fine, he was a rider, but his other arm--for he held the sword with one hand now--was shaking, and sweat was soaking through everywhere.
"That was...how did you know to--"
"Experience," Kiralo said. "Give it a year, and if you live through a war, you'll be able to beat me without even trying. If you want to see a war."
"I do, I do more than anything else. With a war I could prove that I was worth more than anyone else, worth fame and glory and…"
He shook his head, flushing and slowly working to stand as the crowd yelled its shock and perhaps approval. The soldiers, for one, were yelling as if they didn't have training to do, and the courtiers were politely applauding even as others stamped their feet.
Kiralo offered his hand. "Well, you'll have a chance."
That's all Kiralo had wanted, too. A chance.
Major Gains (From the crits, Choose 3)
[] Reroll the Academy Bureaucracy option (it was a failure, if you're wondering.)
[] One of the soldiers spreads the tale around, and his victory reaches many ears, adding to Kiralo's reputation.
[] Having pushed himself to his limits, Kiralo has found strength on the other side. +1 to Personal Combat.
[] Kiralo has made not merely a servant, but a friend through this battle. Or perhaps just someone who likes to tag along, because now Ji'lae's trying to talk to him.
[] The rumors of a job have drawn more and more skilled Mages than expected. Coming out of their holes in something of a swarm.
Moderate Gains (Choose 5)
[] Hi'sen: A northerner who is said to have a real talent for calling upon spirits to heal injuries. There were rumors, apparently, that he was going to be placed on the staff of, say, a Governor if he successfully completed his challenging duel-lessons as doctor and Mage, but shockingly he has declared that he would rather make his name by working with the army. In his early 20s.
[] Hano: A bastard from Hari-Bueli, he has risen this far on fire and spirit, yes, but also a real skill with, apparently, defensive magic and a dedication to Csirit equal to the person he was named after, Hanae. Despite suspicions of his Bueli blood, he's proven himself loyal.
[] Qinlun: A young prodigy, he is only fourteen and yet many apparently rave about his flawless brush-strokes and cunning understanding of spirits. He lacks experience, and is in fact the son of a noble and a respected concubine, raised on dreams and with long fingers, and yet he apparently looks up to Ji'lae and has managed to convince the Academy to give him a pass to stop his education for a time to serve as a junior magical aide to the army, if Kiralo will have him.
[] Deshi: Almost Kiralo's age, he is the son of a solider, and physically skilled, and startlingly tall, which has no doubt led to rumors about his blood. Either way, he is known for the speed of his bindings, and his skill at unleashing spirits in scrolls with a quick, supple will that means that in a direct fight using spirits, none can beat him, and if it gets close, he's apparently almost as good at Ji'lae in a fight.
[] Gen'he: A strange one, he's in his early twenties and while he does know some combat abilities, his main skill is in long-term spirit-work, such as binding spirits to protect an army while it is sleeping, or using spirits to enhance the strength and fortitude of a castle.
[] Bao'ren: The son of a merchant, Bao'ren was in fact a 'Street Spirit-catcher' as they are called until he was thirteen, and he still specializes in finding spirits even in the wilderness. And along those same lines, he knows what sorts of spirits can be found where, leading to this city-boy having a skillset that might well be perfect for the army on the march.
[] Ji'lae has heard of a distant fugitive of sorts, who, despite their young age, has done much. He's said to be skilled in the Sage styles of the Southlands, and in fact he is said to perhaps be one of them. Ji'lae has been somewhat mum on this person. Except to endorse them as skilled.
[] Jaw-lung: Named for the ancient invasion of Sea-Raiders that his distant ancestor was said to have seen off, he grew interested in the Sea-Raiders magical arts, as well as those of the Anlan, and he has a strange obsession with cannons. Guns. Things that make explosions. On a battlefield, he's the first to go for the big, flashy spirit. Off the battlefield, he's more likely to improve equipment and work on customized weaponry and armament combinations for soldiers.
Minor Gains
Dozens of other Mages have pledged to join up, which is a pretty good haul.
*****
Roll Off: 1d100+18+2 (Archery experience)+3 (Distance Advantage)+1d100+22 (PC)+5 (Spirits of War)=71 vs. 127...jesus christ.
Roll 2: 1d100+18+2+1 (Distance Advantage) vs. 1d100+27+10 (Beast Mode Guys)=98 vs. 70
Damage Roll: 1d100+18=59, strong blow on a shoulder plate.
Roll 3: 1d100+18+2 vs. 1d100+27+5 (Beast Mode calming down)-1 (Shoulder Check)=97 vs. 90
Damage Roll: 1d100+18-10 (Basically a tie)=38, glancing blow
Roll 4: 1d100+18-5 (Switching to sword) vs. 1d100+27=104 vs 124
Damage Roll (Ji'Lae): 1d100+27=48, moderate blow to the side.
Roll 4: 1d100+18-2 (The blow) vs. 1d100+26=108 vs. 126
Damage Roll (Ji'Lae): 1d100+26+10 (Perfect Roll)=77
Roll 5: 1d100+18-5 vs. 1d100+26=94 vs. 53
Damage Roll: 1d100+13=78
Trick Roll: 1d100=90
Roll 6: 1d100+0 (Trick) vs. 1d100+24=19 vs. 37
Damage Roll (Ji'Lae): 1d100+24=48
Roll 7: 1d100+13+10 (Rassit Hook) vs. 1d100+24=95 vs. 40
xDamage Roll: 1d100+23+5 (Big Win)=52
Roll 7: 1d100+13 vs. 1d100+22=75 vs. 68
Damage Roll: 1d100+13=27
Roll 8: 1d100+13 vs. 1d100+21=87 vs. 90
Damage Roll (Ji'Lae): 1d100+21=73
Roll 9: 1d100+11 vs. 1d100+21=97 vs. 56
Damage Roll: 1d100+11+3=57
Roll 10 (Beyond this exhaustion starts setting in): 1d100+11 vs. 1d100+19=27 vs. 27
Roll 11: 1d100+11-1 (The 'old man' gets exhausted first) vs. 1d100+19=89 vs. 38
Damage Roll: 1d100+10+3=74
Roll 12: 1d100+10-1 (Man, this is tiring) vs. 1d100+16-1 (Finally getting tired after that slash)=65 vs. 86
Damage Roll (Ji'Lae): 1d100+15=81
Roll 13: 1d100+7 vs. 1d100+15=58 vs. 37
Damage Roll: 1d100+7=51
Roll 14: 1d100+7 vs. 1d100+12=74 vs. 32, he's on the ropes now
Damage Roll: 1d100+7=66
Roll 15: 1d100+7-5 (All but blown out) vs. 1d100+8-3 (Getting there)=33 vs. 73, this could be it.
Damage Roll (Ji'lae): 1d100+5=22, whiff
Roll 16: 1d100+2 vs. 1d100+5=62 vs. 102
Damage Roll (Ji'lae), anything above fifty wins it: 1d100+5=22, wow
Roll 17: 1d100+1 vs. 1d100+5=67 vs. 1...natural botch
Damage Roll: 1d100+1+10 (above 70 is a win)=65
Roll 18: 1d100+1 vs. 1d100+1=54 vs. 47
Damage Roll (again, above 50=win): 1d100+1-10 (Barely a win)=56...and that's it.
[] The 'Gang of Roughs'
Need: 40, Rolled: 1d100+10 (Special win, counts towards getting a crit)+15 (martial bonus applies)=112, 'base' roll of 97, crit it is! 112+1d100=209...another crit. 209+1d100=307...another crit.
307+1d100=395, fucking finally.
Literally what the fuck?!?!
Pre-re-roll, just as a reference for it...--[] Academy Days: The Bureaucracy of Magic
Need: 35, Rolled: 1d100+7=24, failure
Roll 2: 1d100+18+2+1 (Distance Advantage) vs. 1d100+27+10 (Beast Mode Guys)=98 vs. 70
Damage Roll: 1d100+18=59, strong blow on a shoulder plate.
Roll 3: 1d100+18+2 vs. 1d100+27+5 (Beast Mode calming down)-1 (Shoulder Check)=97 vs. 90
Damage Roll: 1d100+18-10 (Basically a tie)=38, glancing blow
Roll 4: 1d100+18-5 (Switching to sword) vs. 1d100+27=104 vs 124
Damage Roll (Ji'Lae): 1d100+27=48, moderate blow to the side.
Roll 4: 1d100+18-2 (The blow) vs. 1d100+26=108 vs. 126
Damage Roll (Ji'Lae): 1d100+26+10 (Perfect Roll)=77
Roll 5: 1d100+18-5 vs. 1d100+26=94 vs. 53
Damage Roll: 1d100+13=78
Trick Roll: 1d100=90
Roll 6: 1d100+0 (Trick) vs. 1d100+24=19 vs. 37
Damage Roll (Ji'Lae): 1d100+24=48
Roll 7: 1d100+13+10 (Rassit Hook) vs. 1d100+24=95 vs. 40
xDamage Roll: 1d100+23+5 (Big Win)=52
Roll 7: 1d100+13 vs. 1d100+22=75 vs. 68
Damage Roll: 1d100+13=27
Roll 8: 1d100+13 vs. 1d100+21=87 vs. 90
Damage Roll (Ji'Lae): 1d100+21=73
Roll 9: 1d100+11 vs. 1d100+21=97 vs. 56
Damage Roll: 1d100+11+3=57
Roll 10 (Beyond this exhaustion starts setting in): 1d100+11 vs. 1d100+19=27 vs. 27
Roll 11: 1d100+11-1 (The 'old man' gets exhausted first) vs. 1d100+19=89 vs. 38
Damage Roll: 1d100+10+3=74
Roll 12: 1d100+10-1 (Man, this is tiring) vs. 1d100+16-1 (Finally getting tired after that slash)=65 vs. 86
Damage Roll (Ji'Lae): 1d100+15=81
Roll 13: 1d100+7 vs. 1d100+15=58 vs. 37
Damage Roll: 1d100+7=51
Roll 14: 1d100+7 vs. 1d100+12=74 vs. 32, he's on the ropes now
Damage Roll: 1d100+7=66
Roll 15: 1d100+7-5 (All but blown out) vs. 1d100+8-3 (Getting there)=33 vs. 73, this could be it.
Damage Roll (Ji'lae): 1d100+5=22, whiff
Roll 16: 1d100+2 vs. 1d100+5=62 vs. 102
Damage Roll (Ji'lae), anything above fifty wins it: 1d100+5=22, wow
Roll 17: 1d100+1 vs. 1d100+5=67 vs. 1...natural botch
Damage Roll: 1d100+1+10 (above 70 is a win)=65
Roll 18: 1d100+1 vs. 1d100+1=54 vs. 47
Damage Roll (again, above 50=win): 1d100+1-10 (Barely a win)=56...and that's it.
[] The 'Gang of Roughs'
Need: 40, Rolled: 1d100+10 (Special win, counts towards getting a crit)+15 (martial bonus applies)=112, 'base' roll of 97, crit it is! 112+1d100=209...another crit. 209+1d100=307...another crit.
307+1d100=395, fucking finally.
Literally what the fuck?!?!
Pre-re-roll, just as a reference for it...--[] Academy Days: The Bureaucracy of Magic
Need: 35, Rolled: 1d100+7=24, failure
A/N: Okay. So. That...happened.
I can't believe you actually won.
Dear fuck those roll.
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- Pronouns
- They/Them
Hot damn. I can see why you were... the way you were, earlier
Hella nice action here.
Ji'Lae is damn fine tho, at.. 18? That feels really young. He's exceptional right? He must be.
Court can't complain we're a boring recluse now, eh? Eh?
Heh.
Or maybe Kiralo is just getting old. He's practically a geezer already.
- Location
- ?
For major stuff, I want these three. Reroll the fail, reputation is influence (well, sort of? It helps?) is actions, and personal improvements.
For other stuff, will need a closer look, and possibly to sleep on it.
More names to keep track of. Mah memory can't handle the strain! I'm an old and decrepit person who makes Kiralo look young (ish)
E: okay so I want to grab the kid. Others are still undecided.
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For major stuff, I want these three. Reroll the fail, reputation is influence (well, sort of? It helps?) is actions, and personal improvements.
For other stuff, will need a closer look, and possibly to sleep on it.
More names to keep track of. Mah memory can't handle the strain! I'm an old and decrepit person who makes Kiralo look young (ish)
I don't feel personal combat is really that important. I would prefer to take shounen friendship option honestly.