Set in the world of Exalted, the story of a Dragon-Blood reassigned to a backwater mudhole to get them out of the way, and their likely travails with mud, holes, holes filled with mud, illiterate goat farmers, and the chronic inability to find a good stiff drink.
Cast out. Gotten out of the way. Kicked out to the middle of nowhere. It's not "exile" per se but it's the closest that it gets without actually being dragged before a Magistrate and banished from the Scarlet Empire. A month ago you were being fed grapes and fanned by servants (or at least the ambiance was there) in the greatest bastion of technology and wealth in the world. Today you're out on a grand mission to the absolute middle of nowhere. You've been given complete authority to remould the satrapy in your own image (nobody in the Scarlet Empire says "king" - kings are what barbarians call their dirt-covered warlords - but you have all the right sort of power. If only it was over someplace worthy of you!) But as you survey your charge, you can't help but feel that the material you have been given to mould in your own image is, well, mold.
And since it is a satrapy, they're still expecting tribute, and will probably make some demands upon you. Halfway across the world from the Empire and you can't even get away from them completely.
But young as you are, inexperienced as you are, cast out as you are, you are still a Prince of the Earth. The power of the Elemental Dragons runs through your blood; yours is the power that turned back the Age of Nightmares, that saved Creation from calamity time and again, and that conquered and tamed the world. This might be a punishment assignment to a place where the most eventful happening in a week is an errant goat, but you'll turn it into something great. And show them, show them all.
Assessing what you've actually got on hand comes first, though. Where were you sent?
[ ] A group of quiet villages on an island in the Great Western Ocean
This might actually be even duller than you had previously imagined. It's a stopover on one of the more minor trade routes, where ships bearing pearls and fire-flowers stop by to resupply with salted fish and fresh timber and maiden tea (fire-flowers have a bad habit of setting things on fire). The forests inland are rumored to be haunted, but given the number of logs you see rolled in it can't really be that haunted.
Advantages: Ample food and lumber, hearty population, pleasantly isolated, ocean trade route, few enemies
Disadvantages: Small population, unpleasantly isolated, few metal supplies, haunted forest
[ ] A collection of tents out in the cold North
"Satrapy" is a funny term, this group of nomads owes tribal fealty to the Scarlet Empress and they'll listen to you as her representative, but they don't really have a distinct homeland as such. They are exceptionally good fur trappers and the hats are all the rage back home which is the only reason the Empire would even bother with them, but you are not feeling good about living in a tent. Even a big tent. They're superstitious too, all this talk about a "white fog"
or "white walkers" or something, your Skytongue is a little rusty.
Advantages: Doughty population, nomadic, fur trade
Disadvantages: Insecure food supply, primitive, nomadic
[ ] A walled and decorated city in the hot South
At least you got sent to something resembling civilization, a poor imitation though it is. An outpost along one of the innumerable veins that carry wealth from the South into the hands of the Scarlet Empire, it's got a bit of money, plenty of lodgings and most importantly, a great big five-dragon flag to fly on the highest parapets. The people are strange and their gods are stranger, but nobody makes a fuss about the Immaculate Doctrines this far out, especially not when there's money to be made. The dunes are dangerous, filled with lion people, skinless night-walkers and human bandits alike, but this is a good enough locale that you might even decide to stay instead of fleeing at the first opportunity.
Advantages: moneyed, not completely primitive, city walls, good overland trade route
Disadvantages: religious tensions, insecure water supply, not isolated, little room for expansion
[ ] A colony on the Dreaming Sea
The relationship between the Scarlet Empire and the Dragon-Blooded state of Prasad is... complex, and there are a collection of small redoubts that the Empire maintains to fly the flag. They are broadly tolerated as long as they don't appear to be getting too big for themselves, but there have been times the Imperial Dragons in them went out for a shopping trip and came back to a ruin. On the one hand you have access to an empire (you won't flatter it by using a capital E) of dragons (you won't flatter them by using a capital D), on the other hand you'll be perpetually under their gaze. Still, it's the closest thing to real civilization that a castaway can get.
Advantages: very nearly civilized, good location, educated population
Disadvantages: under the thumb of a dragon empire (small d, small e), small population, many enemies
[ ] A puppet kingdom in the Scavenger Lands
The most populous region of barbarians in Creation has never been fully subjugated but a number of smaller principalities have sworn themselves to the Scarlet Empire in hopes of being protected from their numerous and belligerent foes. Sometimes it even works. This one is a particularly sorry example - you can ride across it in a day, there are kids playing hide-and-seek in the throne room and you find the "king" at the pub. Even worse, he refers to you as "my dragon friend," and the legal fictions surrounding your place here mean you probably can't kill him for the insult. Still, he's happy to hang on your every word, so free reign is free reign.
Advantages: central location, ample room for expansion
Disadvantages: incompetent advisors, many many enemies
Of course the circumstances of your exile are nothing without the root cause. How did you get sent out this far?
[ ] Dueling
Technically dueling is illegal in the Scarlet Empire, but with ten thousand dragons all concerned with their honour it happens pretty regularly. It's rarely lethal - being openly responsible for the death of a Dragon is a much more serious affair than any mere duel. You were more concerned with your honour than most and you were a regular sight in the open secret rings and clubs. You made the mistake of dueling an elder; your family sent you far away in hopes that maybe they'd cool down about it in a few decades. (Gives a bonus to Martial and especially personal combat, but you will have a powerful Enemy)
[ ] Embarrassment
There is a crime that is greater than actual crimes in the Empire, and that is the crime of being an embarrassment. Really, how were you supposed to know that the noodles were greased, or that the Matriarch's favorite concubine had an allergy? And really the incident with the singing swans was everybody's fault but yours. And the bit where you chased a spy while ferociously wielding a breadroll was for the good of the Empire! Needless to say your family wanted you out of the way as soon as possible. (Gives a bonus to Diplomacy and especially in audacious acts, but rumors of your impropriety may follow you)
[ ] Decadence
Dragons are expected to have a taste for the finer things in life, enthusiastically and to excess, but there's a very careful dance about appearing to be virtuous at the same time. You failed in this masquerade and were uncloaked as a profligate and a layabout, and maybe you sort of deserved it a little. Your family sent you out to the middle of nowhere in hopes that mortal danger and a lack of nice things would straighten you out. (Gives a bonus to Stewardship and especially in acquisition of goods, but you'll have a spending habit to feed)
[ ] Usurpation
Speaking of careful dances, getting a rival out of the way is a carefully-orchestrated weaving of embarrassment, incompetence and vice that culminates in your target being declared unfit to be a Dragon. It's a beautiful thing when it works, but you got caught and had the tables turned on you. Your family wants you out of the way so you don't catch a knife to the back. (Gives a bonus to Intrigue and especially to plotting, but you will have a relentless Enemy)
[ ] Revolution
An especially careful dance is the one the Dragons do around the Immaculate Doctrines, which stipulate a lot of noblesse oblige and being a leader worthy of the mantle of Dragon and a whole lot of NO FUN. Most Dragons who are not monks or aligned with the Immaculate Order pay lip service to the Doctrines or donate large sums in lieu of personal piety, but many take them seriously. You took them so seriously you started a peasant revolt against a Dragon who was abusing his subjects. Your family got you out of the way so you couldn't spread that sort of thing any further - leave it to the real monks, at the very least! (Gives a bonus to Piety and especially to dealings with Immaculate believers, but you will cause religious strife among non-Immaculate believers)
[ ] Impiety
The other side of the coin; you delved into forbidden knowledge that is contrary to the orthodoxy of the Realm, whether it was secrets from gods and demons or in the dusty books of ancient Anathema libraries. Your curiosity got the better of you when you were found stealing tomes belonging to a sorcerer. Your family couldn't see you branded a heretic without the shame of it being cast on them as well, so they were happy to send you somewhere where
you wouldn't draw processions of monks declaring your sins. (Gives a bonus to Learning and especially in occult matters, but you will cause religious strife among Immaculate believers, and have an esoteric Enemy)
And before you can even think about your name and how it's going to be engraved upon history, there is your House Name: your immediate family, your extended family, your extended extended family and all the ancestors you are expected to not disgrace are all weights upon your shoulders as a Dragon of the Realm. You are of which House?
[ ] House Mnemon
The most powerful House headed by the Empress' most powerful daughter, builders par excellence. Pious but gifted in the arts of sorcery, they walk a tightrope that very few can manage. Expectations upon you (even as an outcast) will be extremely high, and Mnemon's power draws the jealousy and ire of dragons from every House.
[ ] House Ledaal
The keepers of a thousand secret lores and some say the true masters of the Realm, the Ledaal are always bringing illumination into dark places. You'll be expected to give them interesting occult knowledge or some of the more interesting artifacts that you find, but if you can return to their good graces you should have access to the same.
[ ] House Cathak
The keepers of martial honor and the mailed fist of the Empire. Harsh disciplinarians and demanding of their mortal subjects, the Cathak are the proudest and most traditionalist House. They are well aware of their standing in the world, confident in the support of the Immaculate Order and full well happy to fight for anything, any time.
[ ] House Ragara
The bank of the Empire, the Ragara are owed money by basically everyone. Business is their battlefield (well, battlefields are their battlefield, but business comes close). The superpower of being able to turn an entire battlefield into a fiery apocalypse is nothing compared to the superpower of having more money than everyone else. Financial support for your satrapy will be better, but you'll be expected to give more back, too.
[ ] House Sesus
A mighty martial house with great standing with the Imperial Legions, but little more than that. Still, when you have a hammer the size of a small horse it's easy to succumb to the temptation of seeing everything as a nail. They are not as traditionalist or punishing as Cathak to their friends, but they are not kind overlords and worse enemies.
[ ] House Cynis
Traders in luxuries, forgers of connections and the greatest matchmakers to ever walk Creation. It doesn't matter if it's an advantageous marriage, a giant war beast to ride into battle on, or the exotic components for your sorcerous ritual, the Cynis know what you want and how to get it for you for the right price. They're all too understanding of the foibles of humanity and dragonkind, and they'll be more inclined to deal with you despite your outcast status.
[ ] House Peleps
The keepers of the Imperial Navy, the Peleps are the unquestioned masters of the waves. As the Empire is an island nation (even if the "island" is enormous), they are the first line of defense against foreign invasion and the Wooden Wall between barbarity and civilization. They have the furthest reach of any House because of it, which is both good and bad for you.
[ ] House Nellens
The thinnest blood and the least Dragons, but the Nellens have a strong grip on the Realm's bureaucracy that's required for the great beast to function, and such a diversity of business interests that they could be a terror on par with Ragara if they had the opportunity. Looked down upon by other Houses with regularity, but in possession of enough money and power that they can handle the attention. They'll probably give you a free hand as long as you bring in the money.
[ ] House Tepet
The third of the great martial houses, Tepet are the unparalleled masters of intelligent warfare and counterinsurgency. When you absolutely positively need a rebellion stamped out with a minimum of collateral damage, call Tepet. You hate to miss out on the great Northern campaign they're gearing up for, but orders are orders.
[ ] House V'Neef
The newest House on the block and the masters of the Imperial Merchant Marine forces. V'Neef herself was elevated to being a Matriarch not long ago (in the time scale of Great Houses) and currently seems to be the Scarlet Empress' favorite, which means that everyone hates her House even more than Mnemon's, if that were possible.
[ ] House Iselsi
A disgraced House, they can't actually afford to be throwing you out over something so trivial as dueling or fomenting revolution. Your exile was a cover for a greater work - maybe you'll be needed to keep an eye on the Realm's enemies from your distant perch, or find something vital to its (or to Iselsi's) survival, or safeguard something terrible that cannot be allowed near the Realm. Your House is criminally shy of resources, but you can count on their full support from the word "go."
Hello, everyone! This is an attempt at an Exalted setting kingdom-builder, where you're a Dragon-Blood of the Scarlet Empire that's been thrown out and given an insignificant kingdom and told to make something of yourself. The decision to do this was inspired in no small part by BoneyM's Divided Loyalties, so while it is going to use the CK2 mechanics as you build your mudhole into a shining bastion of civilization, your advisors may well have their own agendas and side projects. Generally the more competent and powerful they are, the more of their own interests they're going to have. CK2 mechanics, for the uninitiated, use stats of Diplomacy, Martial, Stewardship, Intrigue, Learning and Piety, and use a d100 roll + stat + modifiers +/- circumstances vs a static difficulty (or an opponent's roll of the same for contested rolls). You're an elemental demigod, if a young one, so there are going to be a LOT of modifiers.
As veterans of the Exalted setting might be able to tell from the above descriptions, this begins many years before Year Zero described in the game books. The world is still filled with peril and magical threats, but it's a lot less on fire as of your first Turn so you have some room to grow and come into your own. All events that happen after the beginning are going to be broadly non-canonical and often determined by dice rolls, so it may come to pass that the Realm of your character's birth does not merrily light itself on fire and splinter after the disappearance of its immortal sovereign. But since that would involve me giving up an absolutely choice midgame crisis, that's probably still going to happen - just maybe not when, where and how it's supposed to.
The next update will get into the finer details of character creation and there aren't going to be a ton of restrictions based on your choices in this first one, so if you're worried that being a Mnemon who got kicked out for being too Pious will bar you from being a Sorcerer as well, fret not. Great Houses are gigantic clans that contain multitudes, as well, so even if the stereotype of a Cathak is a big fiery commander of legions, a bookish Cathak scholar might get along less-well with their relatives but people are varied as people are no matter whether they're Dragon-Bloods or not. House choice is about the social and material expectations that will be levied upon you from back home, rather than a straightjacket.
The wealthy and independent House Nellens counts all other Houses as its rivals and all other Houses as its allies. However, the strength of its bloodlines are weaker than that of other Houses. You were taught to endure slights from other Dragons for being a member of that House since you were old enough to walk, taught to win people over with a smile and if that failed, with a dagger to the heart. So it is that in order to be considered enough of an Embarrassment to a perpetually-slighted House to be sent away, your humiliation had to be truly spectacular. Already Nellens is not taken seriously by the women and men of the Realm, but you set your fist against that barrier and smashed it to flinders.
How did it happen? Was it the time you accidentally let loose a herd of untrained austreches to rampage over the streets of the Imperial City, to much destruction and particularly the trampling of a Magistrate's favorite hat? Was it the time you valiantly saved your mother's handmaiden from a poisonous snake, but were caught (and villainously misunderstood) sucking out the poison? Was it time you lost a bet and had to wear bunny ears for an entire day and were called in for a surprise oral exam in front of your entire class? Was it the breadroll?
No, it was none of these things, and of your shame you will not speak, for the less said about the Noodle Incident, the better.
But you could do much worse - the power of Nellens is widespread and routinely underestimated. With the isolation of your new home in the West, your rivals are unlikely to bother with you. And maybe, just maybe, you can turn this insignificant collection of fishing villages into something worthy of the Empire's attention.
Cast out for being a joke? You'll return atop a sea of wealth and soldiers! You'll make them know your name! Who the hell do they think you are?
So, this is a bit of an experiment! The Dragon-Blooded are powerful, but they work best in cooperation and with the backing of loyal and highly-competent minions - you're amazing, but not enough so to just do everything yourself. This means your CK2-style council is actually going to be kind of important, as full characters with their own traits and motivations that may not necessarily line up with your own. You'll issue orders but they'll be just that - orders. The more comparable Councillors are to you in power and social standing the more likely they are to have their own ideas about how things should go, but also the more able they are to get things done. The headman of a fishing village is unlikely to question or subvert the will of a mighty Dragon, but if you happen to somehow talk a Lunar Sorceress into working for you, they'll be very independent in their work and their results might not be what you wanted. Will you choose for merit or loyalty? Will you pack the council with yes-men knowing you can boss them around with impunity, or forge a Brotherhood of willful demigods who can shake the heavens if they work in concert?
Why do I mention this? Well, some of your character creation options affect your Council - this matters for more than just stats.
You'll also get Personal Actions to do things yourself (including helping Councillors or just straight-up doing things for them, if you really need to see something done), so it's not like all that ferocious dragon power is going to go to waste. ("Guan," you ask, "did you basically just steal this from the Divided Loyalties omakes?" Yes. Yes I did. It was presented as a joke but I'm genuinely curious if it'll work!)
So yeah, who are you, anyway? This is a Plan Vote.
[ ] Name: (Eastern-style is favored by the Realm; your House Name is written first and is Nellens)
[ ] Appearance: (Optional, but I do love me some character images)
[ ] Sex: (The Realm is a Matriarchy to the point where the heads of Houses are all Matriarchs, it's just that occasionally a Matriarch also happens to be a man. No mechanical effects, but many cultural ones.)
Aspect: (The blood of the Dragons manifests itself in five Aspects, each for the five Elements of Creation. Although all Dragons can command all five elements, each is Exalted with a special affinity for one in particular. Which elemental expression do you favor? Each grants bonuses to certain rolls.)
[ ] Earth Aspect. The strength of stone in melee, the rock-solid loyalty of a friend, and the implacable hardiness of the body. You are the most unyielding type of Dragon; the power of Pasiap will never leave you.
[ ] Fire Aspect. The roaring of flame in battle, the fiery oratory of the demagogue, and the burning passion of the heart. You are the most straightforward type of Dragon; the power of Hesiesh is yours to command.
[ ] Air Aspect. The rush of wind in flight, the airy wisdom of the sage, and the intellectual heights of the mind. You are the most canny type of Dragon; the power of Mela swirls around you.
[ ] Water Aspect. The flow of water in footwork, the mercurial shifting of alliances, and the bottomless depths of the soul. You are the most adaptable type of Dragon; the power of Danaa'd is yours to channel.
[ ] Wood Aspect. The connection of one being to another, the truth spoken from the heart, the pulse of life of the world. You are the most cooperative type of Dragon; the power of Sextes Jylis is ever your ally.
Specialty: (Given your peerless education and your power as a demigod you are at least competent at nearly everything. But every Dragon has something that sets them above their peers. What is yours? Each will come with its own suite of supernatural abilities, so don't feel like you're missing out if you don't choose to start with Sorcery - a Stewardship-Dragon is a Business Wizard just as much as a sorcerer is a Wizard Wizard.)
[ ] Socialization. It's hard to be a socially inept Exalted, but your gregariousness stands out. You are the life of the party, every party, and talking people into things they really don't want to do comes easier than blinking.
[ ] War. Every Dragon learns the ways of war and battle at least a little: your forever-war with the moon-demons makes it so that a defenseless dragon is a dead dragon. Nevertheless, you have learned the business of warfare at a level that others should fear.
[ ] Business. Money is the lifeblood of the Scarlet Empire, and your financial acumen dwarfs that of any mortal. Of course they have to to support your spending habits and the spending habits of your peers.
[ ] Skulduggery. The Empire is a hotbed of intrigues as every House and every person tries to gain an advantage over the other. You played this game and barbarian plots are adorable by comparison. They aren't going to know what hit them.
[ ] Martial Arts. Religious observance in the Scarlet Empire is short on incense and long on flip-kicks. Not the art of commanding squads or armies, but the Perfected Lotus has one-hundred-and-eight emulative paths to personal power, and you've learned the fundamentals of one. (Yes, Piety is going to be your stat for Martial Arts. The Realm is like that. You'll be able to choose which Style you favor.)
[ ] Sorcery. The power to weave reality, to work miracles by the crystal clarity of your mind. Whether it's quickly filling a battlefield with obsidian butterflies or slowly enchanting the land with fertility, with enough time, effort, exotic components and the very small possibility of accidentally causing yourself to explode, you can create anything you set your mind to. Particularly of interest to sorcerers is the ability to conjure and bind powerful servants. (You'll be able to choose what Spells you know.)
Finally, you have Seven points to spend on Merits. Choose wisely! Certain Merits where it would make sense (i.e. Artifact, Ally) can be chosen more than once. If you want a random lootbag, just buy points in a category and then don't specify what they're for.
Pedigree - this affects your chances of having Dragon-Blooded children and consequently how marriageable you are considered. Confers a social advantage or disadvantage specifically in those spheres.
Unremarkable: Your line is unexceptional, except insofar as it permitted you to become a draconic demigod. You will stand or fall on the strength of your deeds. (Refunds 1 point)
Minor: You are a distant relative of a great hero of the Realm, or have a family that has produced many Dragons. This is good for House Nellens but quite normal in the Scarlet Dynasty as a whole. (0 points; this is the default if you do not choose anything from this category.)
Middling: You are the second-degree relative (i.e. nephew, granddaughter) of a great hero of the Realm, or can draw your ancestry to the Scarlet Empress. The Dragons' power swims in your line. (1 point)
Note: Further pedigree options locked by virtue of being Nellens. Sorry, maybe your kids will have the honor!
Ally - You aren't the only one who went into exile. Of course a subset of your servants went with you, but this is someone that can actually be relied upon to get things done. Whether a loyal retainer or an actual friend it's nice to have someone who has your back, and it's really nice to have a guaranteed-competent member of your Council going into a town of buck-toothed hayseeds. Choose their specialty from Diplomacy, Martial, Stewardship, Intrigue, Piety or Learning, and make a note about your relationship. A name too, if you're feeling cheeky.
A mortal retainer of your own, competent but no more than that (1 point)
An exceptionally competent mortal ally, a boon from your family and a sign that they aren't throwing you out for good (2 points)
Another Dragon-Blood, your partner in crime (Martial Arts or Sorcery specialties also available.) (3 points)
A friendly or oathbound elemental spirit with powers that you lack. Not as powerful as a fellow dragon, but more inclined to let you have your way (choose an element between air, water, wood, fire and earth) (3 points)
Artifact - Magical items to go beyond mortal limits. It'd be silly to not bring along at least some of your panoply. (You get one point in Artifact for free, unless…)
Really? You forgot to pack ANY of them?! (Refunds one point, cannot buy any Artifacts, you start with strictly mortal equipment)
A convenience, like a collar that never lets you get dirty, or a shawl that means you're always cool. (1)
A real advantage, like unbreakable armor or a sword sharper than any mortal steel (2)
A strong piece of gear, like a warhammer wreathed in flames or a shield that consumes and can spit back arrows (3)
Connections - You aren't a complete unknown in your new home; this is someplace you've been before when you were younger and traveling the world.
You made a huge mess of things and everyone hates you. (Refunds one point; you're just one Dragon-Blood and a disloyal Council and hateful populace is no joke, don't underestimate this one)
You did some exceptional deed and made a great impression, you'll probably get at least a few free rounds at the bar out of it. (1 point)
You saved the day and there is a statue of you about somewhere. Punishment assignment? Hah! People love you here. (2 points)
You made connections with some kind of exceptional force, whether a spirit court, a volcano god, floating city of traders or a traveling troupe of the Fair Folk. You can reconnect with them when you arrive. (1 point)
Command - You can't bring many, but some House Guards are more elite than anything a backwater gets and will do wonders for enforcing your will.
Just a solid core of ten bodyguards, enough to shake people down or scare them. (1 point)
A proper guard force of fifty. This many could train a sizable number of others and could be a decisive advantage, if properly supported. (2 points)
Familiar - A creature that you have a magical connection with that will follow you around. Their loyalty to you is absolute. Give the broad outlines of what you want, given the following guidelines.
A somewhat magical beast like a hearthcat or a smart and sharp-eyed hawk. (1 point)
An animal that can serve as a guardian or a mount, like a panther, a tiger or a simhata (an intelligent lion-horse), or a creature intelligent enough to independently spy for you (2 points)
A large and powerful creature that can properly classify as a war beast, like an elephant, a siakal (giant shark), an auroch (giant bull) or a tyrant lizard (t-rex), or an animal companion with human-level intelligence and the power of speech, capable of serving as a Councillor (choose from among mortal specialties) (3 points)
Unlocked by Nellens:
Thousand Scales: You have knowledge of the workings of the legion of bureaucrats that keep the Realm running. (Bonus to Stewardship and administration, may sometimes find money in the strangest places) (1 point)
Business Diversification: House Nellens have their fingers in every pie. Your location possesses a branch office of a Nellens-owned corporation, which means your requests are less likely to be ignored. (Bonus to commerce, bonus to calling on support from home) (1 point)
Knife Behind a Smile: The creed of Nellens is that if someone is your enemy, you just haven't found the right leverage. (Bonus to Intrigue and investigation, may sometimes just happen to come into useful information) (1 point)
Unlocked by West:
Ship - You have no need to rely on chartering a vessel for your own use, you have your own!
Er, or you would, but there's this funny story about barrels of firedust and you were high on just a spectacular amount of Black Lotus, and... (Refunds 1 point; there will be some trouble traveling until you can get your hands on a replacement)
A courier vessel, nimble but with limited storage space and a low crew complement. Great for getting around, though. (0 points; your default if you do not pick an entry from this category)
A Cutter, the last word in speed upon the waves, for trading in exotics where freshness and rarity counts for more than weight (1 point)
A Yacht worthy of a Dragon-Blood. Big, fast enough to be dangerous and great for parties (2 points)
A Realm frigate, the terror of the waves (if taken with Command, your House Guards will be Marines, trained in amphibious warfare) (3 points)
Diplomacy: 13+2=15 - You're pretty well convincing to your fellow man when you need to be.
Martial: 15 - You can lead or train armies with thorough, if not exceptional, competence.
Stewardship: 14 - A business wouldn't flounder under your care.
Intrigue: 26+2=28 - You are a spider in the web, subtle as sin when you need to be.
Piety: 12 - You know enough about the spiritual side of things to not be made a fool of, but you haven't made them part of your life.
Learning: 16 - You received a Dynastic Education and, despite all appearances, actually paid attention.
Audacious - your experience with the heights of embarrassment has left you better at dealing with its lows. (+2 Diplomacy, +10 for Audacious Acts)
Knife Behind a Smile - the creed of House Nellens is that if someone is your enemy, you just haven't found the right leverage yet. (+2 Intrigue, +10 to Investigations, can sometimes turn up bonus information)
Air Aspect - Mela's grace is in your step. (Bonuses to Air-aspected actions, cannot be damaged by falling from great heights, can penalize enemy ranged attacks)
Use of Charms costs Essence, which imposes a hard limit on their use... when time is measured in the course of hours or days. At the time scales of this quest, unless you're specifically pressed for time we'll just assume that you can use them freely. We'll figure out how to track running out in Personal Combat in the future.
Wind-Carried Words Technique (May send short messages at a distance of 10 miles)
Naked Thief Style (+15 to concealing objects no larger than your fist)
Observer Awareness Method (+10 to personal Counterspying)
Cryptic Essence Cipher (+10 to creating ciphers; may create a coded message that one person can intuitively read)
Signature Stealing Calligraphy (+10 to forging others' handwriting, signature and seals)
Armor-Rupturing Fang (In personal combat, successful strikes degrade enemy Armor)
Mela's Twin Fangs (In personal combat, reroll two misses per combat)
Venom Expulsion Method (May attempt to cure or banish poison instantaneously, or gain +10 to an attempt to treat it by taking your time)
Permeating Insight (+10 to case and assess crime scenes, profile criminals)
Slippery Thoughts Technique (May use Intrigue to resist mental influence)
Your childhood friend who you never thought would be so successful as to accompany you to a backwater punishment assignment.
Still, he seems to be in good humor about it.
Sorcerer - Can learn and cast spells and create Sorcerous Workings
Heptagram Graduate - +2 Learning
Geomantic Prodigy - Once per Turn, +15 to a roll involving manse creation or geomantic scrying
Wood Aspect - Bonuses to Wood-aspected actions. Immune to plant-based poisons and resistant to all others; anima flux is poisonous.
Spells:
Demon of the First Circle (Can summon and bind the Serfs of Hell)
Summon Elemental (Can create and bind elementals)
Flight of Separation (Can escape from personal combat by turning into birds)
Corrupted Words (Can curse someone to vomit maggots whenever they attempt to speak about a forbidden topic. Signature spell; can do this without obvious display.)
Wood Dragon's Claws (Can sheath arms in powerful wood claws)
Infallible Messenger (With preparation, can send full messages an unlimited distance; this takes some time to arrive)
Death of Obsidian Butterflies (An immense battle spell)
Charms:
Wind-Carried Words Technique (Can send short messages at a distance of 10 miles)
Spirit-Detection Mirror Technique (Can see dematerialized spirits in reflective surfaces)
Secret Wind Revelation (Is able to perceive the subtle signs of dematerialized entities)
Once upon a time, your tutor. It's not a role he's entirely left.
Name: Kasena Daro
Gender: Male
Type: Mortal
Affiliation: Scarlet Empire
Occupation: Babysitter
Severe - +2 Stewardship, -2 Diplomacy
Tutor - +10 to teaching individuals
Scarred - +1 Martial
Art of War - +5 to strategic planning and may use Learning
Poisoner - +10 to detecting and committing assassinations
Nellens Nalazir and His Friends 10
Nellens Nemiki and Her Dog 6
Nellens Guanyin and Their Loyal Soldiers 5
Randomization results: Sorcerer Ally is a Male Nellens Wood Aspect
Mortal Retainer is also Male and VERY GOOD AT THINGS.
You are Nellens Nalazir. The seaspray splashes against your face as you stand astern on your courier vessel. It's not a comfortable ride by any stretch of the imagination, but it is a fast one. You meticulously calculated how much wine you could fit in the hold compared to how much wine you'd need to make the trip, and given that land is in sight and you're currently nursing the last few drops out of the last bottle, you feel a surge of satisfaction.
Hah. Got that one about right.
Your vessel isn't actually big enough to carry the House Guard you've brought with you, but as you look starboard of your vessel you see the telltale trail of rainbow light in the water that means they're keeping up just fine. The belly of a bound elemental spirit isn't a comfortable place to make a long ocean trip either, so by comparison you can count yourself lucky.
"Can't believe you dragged me out here and then took the last bottle," comes the scoff from your chestnut-haired childhood friend, your partner in crime and today an actual honest-to-goodness Sorcerer, Nellens Kahu. You really never thought he'd make it, he was always blowing off his responsibilities, but then so were you and look how well you've turned out! The part where he was blessed of Wood was absolutely no surprise to you at all, though. "Didn't they tell you that's the worst sin? Taking the last of anything?"
"I am a famously poor study at etiquette," you say, and he tuts at you.
"And history," he says with a downright sorcerous level of gravitas, learned in the exalted high halls of the Heptagram Academy, "let me enlighten you: Mnemon stabbed a man a hundred times for taking the last mint and the Empress? Gave her her own Great House for it. Said that someone who reacted so violently to so grave an injustice was fit to rule."
If the two of you were younger you'd whap him upside the head, but older and wiser and more even-keeled you would never do such a thing and incidentally from where you're perched you can't quite reach without risking an embarrassing stumble. Instead you point to the dot on the horizon, "look, we'll get more when we get there. It's not much just yet, but a whole kingdom to ourselves to rule, all without our elders looking over our shoulders!"
As if on cue, the captain of your small vessel scoffs too. "Sounds like I'll have to start doling out discipline early and often. You might be an adult and Exalted now, but you still need direction."
"Well," you turn back and wink at him, "most of our elders."
Kasena Daro might be mortal but he's one of the most terrifying tutors you've ever had, a man who requires a child to learn their poisons by age eight and then rigorously tests that knowledge with live demonstrations is a man who shouldn't be trifled with (the fact that that knowledge saved your life at age twelve, well, there's also a good reason he has his job). That he's here means someone in your immediate family was very sorry about the whole exile thing, and you have almost as many suspicions as to who as you have immediate family members.
Still, what's the point of being older and Exalted if you can't have a little fun with the old man? (You say old, you're pretty sure he's over sixty but clean living and age-extension drugs mean he's just starting to see streaks of gray in his hair. The Dragons provide well for their favored servants.)
"I was thinking the first thing we could do is get, just, roaring drunk and burn the whole place down, start from scratch, build it our way," you say, delighting in Daro's severe expression. There's this way his nostrils flare that could send you scurrying when you were small, so it's a little thrill that he has to sit and take it and steer the ship.
"Nalazir, the last time you built anything," he says, and you think you catch a chuckle in his voice, "they had to call in the monks to get all the demons out of it."
That was actually one of your proudest achievements. They'd tried to exorcise it for a day and a half before they figured out that the tower was constantly shaking and bleating and bleeding not because it was possessed but because you'd cleverly built it to hide a goat and a slowly-trickling jug of beet juice.
Why had you done that, anyway? The act itself gave you great joy but the reason for it was a little fuzzier now. Was it to impress a girl? Yeah, you're pretty sure it was to impress a girl.
"No," he continues, "we're going to do this the Realm way or I'm turning this boat right around."
"You mean inserting ourselves at the top of the power structure, gaining legitimacy by subverting existing institutions and having a corps of heavy infantry and Dragons to horribly maim anyone who tries to make too much of a fuss about it?" you rattle off, paraphrasing at the end.
"No, no," Kahu chimes in, "it's settling in offshore with a ton of bound demons and ships with giant cannons and sending over friendly envoys that say, 'we've got wonderful goods and we'd like to trade for yours, but if you're feeling reluctant about it please notice that we have enough firepower to turn your whole kingdom to ash.'"
Daro doesn't laugh long; he does it short and once, "you were paying attention to your lessons after all. I may have to demand more pay."
Your target is well and truly close and it's… from the description your mother gave you you expected them to be living in straw huts, but it does actually look like these villagers have some buildings. You pull into the docks to very little fanfare; three men coming aboard a courier vessel isn't especially noteworthy even if these docks are currently serving exactly zero other ships, and you overtip the dockmaster so casually that he doesn't notice you just bought his house and everything in it until you're already ashore. The lack of attention changes immediately when a pair of great rainbow sea serpents beach themselves near the docks and disgorge fifty very wet and discomforted soldiers. As the three of you take your place at their head there's already some yelling before you wave your pocket Nellens flag in the air and tell the people who were finding their weapons that you're from the Realm, nobody's getting invaded today and everything's going to be fine.
1d100 + Diplomacy 15 vs Difficulty 35. 85+15=100 vs 35. Great success. A good start!
It goes… well, which is to say people stop looking like they're going to shoot you. The Governor, a wiry fellow with bad posture comes out of his slightly-better-than-average house (which by your standards is still pretty much a hovel) to talk with the two Dragons and their large armed contingent. You provide him with the letter that appoints you as his replacement and his face lights up and he pumps your hand and Kahu's hand and runs off yelling, "I'm free! I'm free!"
Not exactly the stately exchange of power you were expecting, but you're now in charge.
Sweet Mela, you're now in charge!
And you've drawn a pretty good crowd, people stopping their work to get a look at their new Governor. What do you do?
[ ] Give a speech to the villagers about what they can expect from your rule. Maybe get a little dramatic about it.
[ ] You promised Kahu wine and it's been a hell of a long trip, you may not burn this place down but you are going to get roaring drunk together.
[ ] Chase after the old Governor before he's out of sight. What does he mean, "I'm free"?!
[ ] Other (Write-in)
1d100 + Diplomacy 15 vs Difficulty 30/40/50 = 38+15=53. Top score.
You turn from the retreating Governor to the crowd you've gathered. It's not like he's going anywhere (not unless he's a very good swimmer), but crowds are a treasure that you cherish. There are a thousand things you can say. You can promise to uphold their institutions. You can promise to lead them to glory. You can assert your authority. You can wow them with flashy displays of magic. You can establish yourself as a fair and just ruler.
Or… you look back at Daro, and he looks at you expectantly. You flash him a grin and he bristles in anticipation of something very Nalazir about to happen. That settles it.
Know your audience, they say. These are simple people, the common clay of the West. You know, morons. A grandiose or elaborate speech won't do it.
"Nellens Nalazir," you press your fist to your chest, "my friends Nellens Kahu and Daro. Congratulations on having me as your new Governor. Which way is the bar? The first round's on me!"
A hearty cheer erupts around you and Daro just slowly shakes his head as you're half-led half-pushed in the direction of an open-air building with plenty of floor space, your friends and soldiers trailing behind.
…
"Look at that," Kahu says, raising a large wooden bowl to you, his feet propped up on the table and his shoes kicked off, "you managed to get everybody what they wanted. Here's to you, Governor!"
The three of your bowls clonk together, and the sorcerer quickly downs his drink.
"Eugh," he makes a face only after he's finished, "this is terrible. I hope they have more of it. In fact, give me yours."
It is a downright bizarre concoction compared to the clear wines you're used to, closer to a banana mash that's been watered-down and fermented than anything a civilized human being would consume. Daro is downing his without complaint, and not to be undone you dig in too even if you feel the need for a spoon to drink it with.
"A good first impression is valuable," your old tutor says after he's chewing on his drink, "but you'll want to assert your authority quickly. Assemble a council who can execute your will."
"You know, I thought it would be just the three of us against the world," you say with your best impression of a starry-eyed mooncalf. "Oh, wouldn't that be romantic?"
"Six is traditional," Daro says, not even dignifying that with a response, "more becomes unwieldy. Less leaves matters ignored, or forces us to cover for each other. A diplomat, a commander, a steward, a spymaster, a monk and in our case, a sorcerer. " He nods briefly to Kahu, who snaps back to attention from looking at a couple of dancers.
"And you think we're going to find four people who can keep up with us?" Kahu raises an eyebrow.
"Absolutely not," Daro smiles very slightly, a twinkle in his eye, "but what are barbarians if not clay to be worked by our hands?"
At the very least it sounds like a more interesting few days than just getting drunk (although you're absolutely going to do that a couple more times too). The three of you split up and see what you can find with a promise to reconvene when you feel confident that you have gotten the best that this sorry island has to offer. May the Dragons have mercy on their souls.
Choose your council! This is a Plan Vote, and I'll keep it open a while.
You're a good study in reading people from your Intrigue focus, and combined with the Dragons' power you can get a solid idea of how good at their jobs they are instead of having to guess at a range. Listed are their base values before modification by traits.
If you wish to shuffle councilor appointments (for example, appointing A Little Bird as your Piety advisor instead of Intrigue or the bartender as your Diplomat instead of your Steward) you can, but you won't know their relevant stat and trait in advance. Some of them might be less than thrilled, but it's a great honor anyway, right?
Daro assumes that he'll fill a place on your Council but will leave it to your discretion on how; you can replace any one of the proffered candidates with him. For easier reference, his statblock is as follows:
Traits: Severe (+2 Stewardship, -2 Diplomacy), Tutor (+10 to teaching individuals), Scarred (+1 Martial), Art of War (+5 to strategic planning), Poisoner (+10 to detecting and committing assassinations)
Diplomacy: If you have to be honest, this place is so small that you'll probably live or die by how you interact with your neighbors. That or you'll conquer the hell out of them, so maybe blowing this one off isn't such a big deal after all.
[ ] Lucky Break: A seven-foot giant of a beast-blooded woman, enough generations removed from the moon-demons' experiments that she's just another human but for the markings on her face and weird ears and the tail. No real title, but a sort of a rough-and-tumble troubleshooter that people go to when there's trouble no one else can handle. You met her at the bar and ended up trying to armwrestle with her and your arm still hurts. Around these parts, getting away with that qualifies you to be a diplomat. Diplomacy 10, Brave.
[ ] Onyx Mouse. A lady on the run from her former comrades, a crime syndicate in Wu Jian. She's well-traveled and knows a lot of the right people, but also a lot of the wrong people want to kill her stone dead. When you ask Kahu why he didn't recommend her for Spymaster, he says she wants to leave that life behind. Leave a life of trickery and plots? Why would anyone want to do that? Diplomacy 6, Shrewd.
[ ] Headman Orphon. The elected representative of the villages to interact with the Governor (that's you!), this is probably the man that'd be in charge of everything if the Realm weren't around. Daro thinks having him on the inside will signal to your people that you intend to take their concerns seriously. Which you- pffff, ahaha. Yeah. Okay. Diplomacy 11, Elected.
[ ] Delay Diplomacy Advisor Appointment.
Martial: As you watch the people going home from their work and note the procession of muscles and well-bronzed skin, a small comfort is that there's very little weakness in them at all. You really have no shortage of people who can personally beat things up, but your list of people who you can really trust with administration of ships and armies begins and ends with Daro. Still, nobody seems to be raiding or invading you right now, so maybe they'll have time to learn. Or you'll have time to find a replacement and drop them like an invitation to an Iselsi salon.
[ ] Sharkslayer Broughleo. You have to admit the young man is in exceptionally good shape, but you're also certain his bragging about strangling sharks with his bare hands is complete bullshit. Still, he's got a great shouting voice and more importantly people listen when he talks. You're pretty sure all the jokes about him roundhouse kicking mountains apart will get stale in, like, a year, tops. Martial 8, Proud.
[ ] Head Hunter Falling Petals. You were thinking something very different when you heard she was a "headhunter" but it turns out it's two words. Usually concerned with hunting animals for meat and hides, when monsters threaten the island and they're something that can be handled with a lot of arrows she's the one who organizes the response. Daro thinks her experience will be valuable. Martial 9, Hunter.
[ ] Scalelord Maroto: Kahu didn't spend a lot of time looking for this one; this is the head of your little private army. House Guards tend to be chosen for their ability to twist a thief's head off with their bare hands rather than skill in organizing military campaigns. Maroto can certainly do the first one, but he's not really Marshal material. Martial 6, Loyal.
[ ] Delay Martial Advisor Appointment.
Stewardship: It's a challenge pulling together enough literate people in this backwater to actually have real options for a Steward, but Daro insists it's necessary to have someone in charge of budgeting and figures.
[ ] Dockmaster Teague: Oh, you remember this one! He's... a little slow, actually. The man in charge of checking in ships that come in. He's a friendly enough fellow, and Daro thinks he knows naval affairs well enough that he'll be an asset. He does the most sums of anyone here, so there's that. Stewardship 8, Assessor.
[ ] Markus Mercia: You're familiar with him already, he owns the bar and seems to be doing well for himself. You think if you appoint him you can talk him into free drinks at every meeting, which would be a vast improvement in the state of affairs. Wait, he wouldn't just take the price of the drinks out of the budget and not say anything, would he? Stewardship 7, Gregarious.
[ ] Matron Yaga. You don't need to guess how Kahu found her: this severe-looking middle-aged woman runs the largest brothel on the island. Still, she's probably dealt with the most trouble in her life and has the most business sense of the three. Stewardship 10, Diligent.
[ ] Delay Stewardship Advisor Appointment.
Intrigue: You get the impression that a "Spymaster" on this one-horse island will mostly concern themselves with who's stealing whose hog. Which is fine, because nobody here can even begin to match you in the Trade.
[ ] Yasmina the Unstoppable. A matchmaker, a vital role to the functioning of society no matter where you are. Yasmina is a lot less subtle than the Realm's matchmakers; she's more of a gossip than a real schemer. Nonetheless she seems to have a good handle on what's happening on the island. Kahu is entirely confident in your own ability to uncover real plots and thinks you should legitimize her to keep other matchmakers away, as their ilk tend to be territorial. Intrigue 5, Ear to the Ground.
[ ] Red Morning. Daro rounded up the local sheriff. He is indeed mostly concerned with who's stealing whose hog, and seems to have a reputation for being No Fun, but you can count on him to faithfully execute his role. Intrigue 8, Enforcer.
[ ] A Little Bird. A crow brought you a meticulously written resume. How charming! After a spirited interview you determined that he isn't some spy for a moon-demon but a Small God who wants to move up in the world, and he thinks signing on with you will bring his star into the ascendent. Intrigue 6, Small God.
[ ] Delay Intrigue Advisor Appointment.
Piety: In civilized lands the Immaculate Order has thoroughly convinced the gods their place is to properly manage their domains and leave mortals alone, and the duty of a spiritual advisor would mostly be to keep the Order itself off your back. Out here the divine scene is a jungle, and monks, priests and shamans are necessary to keep the gods happy.
[ ] Salt-Blood. Funnily enough he's probably the most competent person you've found on this island, Salt is a priest and concerns himself with placating the storm gods. He's got a voice like a thunderclap himself and a barrel chest you could fit a legion in. Kahu really outdid himself on this one. Piety 11, Strong.
[ ] Mnemon Iguta. Whoa! You're not the only one who's been disgraced and exiled to this island! It turns out there's a sad little Immaculate shrine that's growing moss and an old mortal monk woman busy drinking herself to death inside. Daro is visibly uncomfortable recommending her, but says it is the Realm's tradition to have an Immaculate monk fill this position. Piety 5, Cynical.
[ ] Quiet Moonrise. Okay, okay, you were running a little short on time, because this woman's only credentials involve her ability to take people to heaven. Her long silver hair is quite something to look at, though, and many gods are subject to the same drives as men. Should make council meetings more interesting too. Piety 5, Lustful.
[ ] Delay Piety Advisor Appointment.
Learning:
[ ] Nellens Kahu: Your childhood friend and your partner in crime. There's an unspoken assumption that Kahu will be filling this position; none of you bothered to look for other candidates. Learning 26, Sorcerer.
[ ] Delay Learning Advisor Appointment. The unspoken assumption that he'll fill the role is so strong that Kahu will simply consider this you giving him a vacation.
You make your choices; now it's just a matter of letting them know they've got the job. Hopefully you've got enough banana mash to see you through the job.
Plan Straightforward 5
Plan Audacity 4
"You made the right choice, boss!" Lucky Break is wearing her customary admiral's coat, bright brass buttons gleaming in the lantern light of the very early morning. With the dearth of good commanders you had approached her to find out if she was suitable for an admiral's position, but quickly determined that it's just an affectation. 'Belonged to a friend,' she had said, and your prying as to what was involved was what led to the arm-wrestling. Still she is very distinctive, and the massive greatsword on her back is the kind of diplomacy that you're all about. "People around here don't go in much for fancy ceremonies and state dinners and all that," she explains, "drink together, cut a mad ghost so hard his ancestors feel it, maybe grab some spears and get yourselves some octopi and cook them, that's what you need to win hearts." She leans way, way down to lean on your shoulder and gesture into the wild blue yonder. "We're gonna have adventures."
...
Daro is entirely unruffled and, indeed, entirely unsurprised that you didn't select a single one of his offerings. "The headman, the hunter, the dockmaster, and our good monk aren't going anywhere," he says, looking over the list of your choices and making notes in the margins. "If one of your selections happens to spectacularly burst into flames, well."
"Are you going to say you told me so?" you ask.
"Maybe," he smiles at you very slightly, "depends on the size of the fire."
"And you're fine with handling military affairs?"
"Fine with it?" he scoffs, "Nalazir, it's probably the only sensible decision you've made here. There's unworked material here, and the lack of immediate threats should give me plenty of time to turn your coven of chaos into something to be reckoned with."
"It's nice to know the years haven't dulled your edge, old man," you say as you turn to leave. "I look forward to seeing them screaming and running in terror from you."
"Just one thing," he stops you before you go. "The god. It is your right as one of the Dragon-Blooded to liaison with the gods, and if he happens to want to serve under your aegis more closely, in circumstances such as this, it isn't quite as heretical as you would think."
"There's a 'but' there, isn't there?" You know Daro well enough to know it just from his tone.
Daro nods. "But don't let him be worshiped beyond his due. It's how gods get too big for themselves. The Empire fought for centuries to stamp that out within its borders. No god will turn it down without a good reason, and the only reliable reason we've ever found was a Dragon's fists."
Right. That.
....
"A pleasure, but not a surprise," Matron Yaga says, lighting another stick of incense inside her office. It's a cozy, pleasant place, for a barbarian lodging. Nice hangings on the walls, lots of pillows. You might even call it rustic. That this is the most formal interview is promising, considering that you're hiring her to be the most sensible (save Daro) part of your little coterie. Her black hair is done up in a bun and stuck through with thin crossed sticks - you're not sure if she's modeled herself after Realm fashions or if it's a matter of the pervasiveness of Realm culture or if that look is just popular everywhere.
"And why is that, exactly?" you ask.
"I've built this business from nothing," she gestures to the building around you. It is one of the largest operations on the island, even if that's a bit like being the cleanest pig in a pen. "You're one of the Exalted; even if you've been appointed over us you must have grander aspirations. You need someone with sense and you need someone with ambition."
"No, I need someone to handle the books." More than that is a bonus, really.
"Yes," she smiles, more to herself than to you, you reckon, "you need someone to handle messes. I assume you're hoping to handle transactions in coin. Silver, perhaps. Jade is a bit too much for us."
"Or scrip. I expected scrip," you offer. Scrip is the thing that peasants use because they're too poor to afford Jade and it's illegal for them to handle it anyway, but you're well aware of the value of silver.
"Good luck. In a place where everyone knows each other I can let a shoemaker go without paying because I know my girls will need shoes and I know he's good for it. If the taxes need to be paid and what you do is spin linen, you pay your taxes in linen. It's like that all over. There's nothing neat or tidy or organized about it. And nobody uses scrip."
"And the ships?"
"Sailors pay coin," she agrees. "Or cowries. Or beads. The one who tried to pay with the promise that there was a stone wheel the size of a man that belonged to him back on his island got thrown out."
It is a pretty sticky proposition. Maybe you should've gone with the Bartender, he knows how to make change, right? "Mess it might be, but I'm offering to make this your mess. Can you handle it?"
"Of course," she doesn't hesitate. "Else I wouldn't have offered. I handle stranger payments every day. Silverback horns. Shark teeth. Everything has a value, you just need to figure out what it is."
"And your business?" you know your madames; there's not a chance she would have agreed to this without something in it for her.
"Will grow," she says as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "And I will acquire more of them. Else I wouldn't have offered. But you can count on me to back you up."
This woman will be trouble. But you like trouble.
...
It's not hard to get ahold of A Little Bird, all you have to do is whistle in just the right way and hold something tasty up into the air. With him perched on your shoulder scarfing down a bun the two of you take a survey of the docks, which are probably the most well-made part of this island. It makes sense, the ships that stop for resupply are their only claim to fame.
"Not why," A Little Bird croaks when you mention it. "A grand campaign, years and years ago. Too long ago for humans to remember. This? A little piece of it. Dragons build strong. There should be more. Buried by the green. Claimed by the little gods. Forts. Weapons."
Oh. "That's… actually really helpful."
There's a little noise in his throat that sounds like a laugh and he dips his head. "Hidden treasures."
"Oh!" understanding immediately, you are delighted by so base a motivation, "so that's what you're after? I thought it would be prayer." Being prayed to makes gods powerful; the more worshipers, the bigger the god. In places where the Immaculate Order is weak the gods can become very powerful indeed.
"Realm says just a little for all." He turns his head and looks at you slyly, "just a little bird. Get enough hidden treasures, become a god of hidden treasures."
"Is that how it works?" You had heard that the other way gods could advance themselves was to get more domains to manage. You hadn't figured it could be quite so… direct.
"Told so."
Well, that's not promising for a grand ambition. You get the feeling he's leaving some details out, too. "And if you're wrong?"
There's a ruffling of his wings that resembles a shrug. "Just a little bird with hidden treasures."
You chuckle. Well, at least he'll be happy either way.
"You know the Immaculate Doctrines say you shouldn't amass material wealth either," you say, although you think you know the answer.
"Not my treasures," he caws with confidence, "your treasures. That I look after."
Mm. Subtle maybe not, sneaky yes. If he can manage it, you'll get along with him just fine.
...
Speaking of the gods, the storm gods are propitiated in terror by everyone who wants to survive on the waves. That's a problem for another day (if ever, really). Salt-Blood introduces himself as a priest of the mighty Astoros, who he explains that as storm gods go is one of the nice ones because he's careless rather than malicious. Obtaining protection from storms that he's caused is more about getting him to realize you're there rather than placating an active divine sadist, and his maw is hungry for prayer and offerings because he's a big, big guy with appetites to match rather than out of greed or ambition.
He also demands strength from his priests, and considering the whole time he's been explaining all this Salt-Blood has also been lifting logs out of a river and chucking them ashore to a waiting team of laborers, he's got at least one follower who takes this very seriously. He also knows the doctrines of placating the other gods, he explains, (who are described in his holy writ as divided into pantheons of "chill" and "not chill" and the one specially reserved for shark gods who are "100% maximum no chill."), because only knowing one god is a good way to piss the rest off.
The last log is heaved up on the shore and he wades out of the river, his bared chest muscles gleaming in the sunlight. Yeah. He'll do.
…
You find Kahu at the bar and let him know that you'll be putting him to work soon.
"Hell yes," he says, only swaying a little as he gets out of his seat, "it's about time."
You could talk about priorities or motives or inspire him, but this is Kahu. You look in his eyes. He looks in yours. You grin. He grins back.
You don't need words with Kahu, that part is just for fun. A pact that will shake the world is sealed with a fistbump.
"Let's go do some damage," you say.
The day approaches for your first full meeting, and you quickly rule out the old governor's house. First of all it's too small, second of all it seems to be packed to the brim with stacks and stacks of paperwork. You went through a couple of them and they were things like "Formal Report of Crime: Petty Theft" with five pages of meticulous witness statements and a notice recommending escalation to the Governor's office to settle things and a note scrawled at the end in a different hand "pig got stuck in a tree. Stop wasting my time!" The next one in the stack was another, nearly identical Formal Report of Crime: Petty Theft with witness statements. At the sight of so much red tape with so few people you were inspired to flee immediately, so the first meeting of the hands of the governor are meeting in the place with the largest table, which happens to be a large open space that your minions have dragged a large round table to. There's no paperwork for a first meeting so it's not like you have to worry about it blowing away.
You approach to the sounds of a struggle and your first thought is that you've made a mistake. Lucky Break's greatsword and admiral's coat are tossed on the ground and she and Salt-Blood are currently grappling with each other, red-faced and muscles straining as they fight for advantage. Salt-Blood catches hold of giant beast-blooded woman and almost throws her down but she tumbles like an acrobat and springs up about an inch shy of your face before launching herself back into the fray.
Matron Yaga is standing and smiling to herself, entirely unperturbed by the melee. A Little Bird is perched on her shoulder. She nods as you, Kahu and Daro come up alongside her.
"They're pretty well matched," she says, Lucky Break having gotten Salt-Blood into a headlock. "I'll give you even odds on either. 3:1 that they both wear themselves out and there's no winner."
"I'll get in on that action! What are we betting?" Kahu says immediately, as Salt thrusts his feet into the ground and drives them both backward and knocks Lucky's head into the Council table so hard she lets him go.
"Anything you like. Within reason, anyway," she says. If she noticed that Kahu perked up before she added the caveat and then settled down afterward, she doesn't say so. "Well?"
[ ] Bet!
-[ ] On who?
-[ ] Wagering what?
[ ] Do not bet.
[ ] A wrestling match? Hell yes! Strip to the waist and wade right in.
[ ] Break this up immediately!
[ ] Other (write-in)
Gambling is all well and good (in fact better than well and good), but there's something to be said for asserting your dominance early. If they're going to have wrestling matches at your meetings, they're going to have to deal with the possibility that the boss gets involved.
Kahu gets a big grin as you shed your leather breastplate and your shirt. "So I was going to bet on Lucky Break," he says, punching your arm, "think I still might."
"Don't bet anything you can't afford to lose, then," you tell him, and whistle to get your two councillors' attention. They look between the two of them and immediately decide to join forces against such a mighty threat - a little reminder of why you usually avoid direct confrontations.
They come at you with surprising speed for their size - no mere laborers these, but a man and woman with the long experience of many fights. It doesn't matter, you duck around their grapples like you're nothing but a breeze, twirling and showing off as you do. You can dart just close enough to them that they feel they should connect, but the slightest graze on your skin isn't going to slow you down for a second. They try coordinating, Salt-Blood comes in and occupies your attention with a rush at your shoulder while Lucky Break comes in with a heavy two-handed blow. It goes less well for them as Salt-Blood catches it on the back and goes down, but you too get cocky from the rush of evading something so heavy as Lucky Break's follow-up of a knee to your stomach knocks the wind out of you.
Salt-Blood: 1d100 + Personal Combat 11 + Strong 10 = 20 + 11 + 10 = 41
Lucky Break: 1d100 + Personal Combat 12 + Beast Size 5 = 74+12+5 = 91
Nellens Nalazir: 1d100 + Personal Combat 21 + Float Like a Butterfly (Air Aspect) 10 = 24+21+10=55.
These two fight dirty! You're going to get along with them better than you thought. While you're staggered Lucky Break manages to get her arms around you and starts pushing against your stance, trying to overpower your support and wrestle you to the ground, and with the sheer difference in size and strength she should succeed.
Should.
Reroll! 1d100 + Personal Combat 21 + Float Like a Butterfly (Air Aspect) 10 = 97+21+10=128. Critical success!
You are the wind as you slip out of her hold and around behind her, your well-toned arms seizing her around the middle and starting to lift. She starts to flail as the influence of Air makes you both lighter than you have any right to be. You bow your body backwards and pull her along for the ride and there's a mighty crack heard a mile around as you suplex her into the middle of the council table, breaking the thing in two.
...
"Right!" you've put your shirt back on, Salt-Blood is nursing an impressive set of bruises but doesn't seem too put out about it, A Little Bird is fussing over a Lucky Break who insists she hasn't fractured her skull and just has a hard head, and Kahu (up some kind of written IOU from the 1:1.25 odds on you) is slowly but surely coaxing the wood of the council table to put itself back together. Daro, for his part, has already started to take notes. "The first meeting of the… hey, what is this nation called, anyway?"
All eyes turn to Matron Yaga, who sits calmly in her seat.
"The Most August Confederation of the Unser People Under the Exalted Auspices of the Scarlet Empress Long May She Reign and Her Representatives the High House Nellens Long May They Prosper in All Matters Under Heaven," she recites.
Kahu looks up and grimaces like he's been physically struck. "Awful name."
For once Daro agrees. "Not exactly something to strike fear into the hearts of our enemies."
"I don't know, it has a certain lilting charm to it," you say, and this time you get scowls from both of them.
"As Governor you do have the authority to change it for all but the most formal of Realm communications," Daro says.
Under the force of twin evil eyes you relent. "Well, that's a good first step," you make a sweeping gesture across the table, "what should we call ourselves?" (This is separate from the plan vote below.)
[ ] Dynaxia! Lucky Break's suggestion.
[ ] The August Confederation; Daro suggests it would be more practical to just shorten the name a little.
[ ] Wind-on-the-Waters. Does Yaga secretly have a poetic side or has she been giving it some thought?
[ ] A Little Bird! ...yeah, all right, thanks, buddy.
[ ] Might. Nice and straightforward from Salt-Blood.
[ ] Banana Mash Island? Kahu's flippant offering.
[ ] Nalaziria: the properly authoritative act would be to name it after yourself.
[ ] Or you could name it after its people. Unser is nice and short.
[ ] Evil eyes notwithstanding, keep it as-is. Insist on having it spoken and written fully each time it's used.
[ ] Other (Write-in)
"...is called to order!" you repeat when you've got the name well in hand. "I didn't give you much time to plan, so consider this your first test. What have you all got for me?"
Everyone starts to talk at once. With such a display of authority as you've shown it only takes a little bit of coaxing to get them to go in order.
To how this quest is gonna work! Every Season (three months in Creation) you'll reconvene to go over results and discuss future plans. Each Councillor will present a report on how their activities have gone and will present plans (usually two or three) on where they want to go next. Sometimes things will take longer than expected and they'll only present one plan to continue what they're doing. You can write-in a different plan any time you like; if it's enormously different than what they had in mind this may be considered indicative of a lack of trust, or they may consider it a sensible alternative that they just hadn't thought of, depending on what it is! You can micromanage, but you hired these guys so you wouldn't have to go over every single detail.
Your starting Council is mostly composed of baseline mortals and as a Dragon-Blood you have spiritual (and political) authority over them, so they're unlikely to question or subvert your will even if you ask them to do something highly unorthodox (unless you really piss them off). Your two allies are likewise firmly on your side, so strange orders are more likely to be regarded just as Nalazir being Nalazir.
You'll have three personal actions, which represents the time you have to do things yourself. Assigning multiple councillors to a task will make the job a collaboration, which may get you improved results if they work well together or have aligned skills. Using a personal action on a councillor's task means you're collaborating with them, which may get you vastly improved results if your skills or other factors are aligned (for example, because of your status you'll always be a good addition to diplomatic meetings), or nothing at all if they're entirely absent (helping Kahu summon a bunch of bottle bug demons to cure a plague is mostly going to consist of you standing around in the background providing color commentary, unless something goes terribly wrong in which case you're a genius for having foreseen it).
The beginning is pretty low-stakes on purpose, so feel free to experiment!
Each Season in Creation corresponds to a particular Element (frankly it'd be easier to find things in Creation that don't), and is divided into Ascending, Resplendent and Descending months. In certain corners of Creation the weather varies a lot depending on your season! Yours isn't one of them, with one fairly large exception.
Air Season closest to Winter. However, out West you're in a much more even-keeled climate, so it's cooler but with light rains, a very pleasant time to be out and about.
Water Season is a Big Deal in the West, because in Creation instead of a summer monsoon or winter monsoon, you just have a full Monsoon Season. A monsoon that is too mild can result in scarcity if the fish also aren't biting. Just right and there will be prosperity. Too heavy and there is devastation and it is said that the gods are angry.
Wood Season is comparable to Spring, and is the time of renewal and growth and new projects. You are currently here! Because making you spend your first turn getting ready for monsoon season just seemed needlessly cruel. The islanders seem to have come out of it pretty well.
Fire Season is comparable to Summer, when the sun is hottest and the growing season is in full swing.
Earth Season is comparable to Autumn; the heat breaks, the taxes get collected, tribute to House Nellens is sent off and you get to congratulate yourself on a year well spent, because…
Calibration is the five days at the end of the year, a time for reflection and feasts or of locking your doors and praying your spirit wards work, depending on where you live. The moon disappears, most of Heaven has a gigantic party (except the poor Pattern Spiders re-calibrating the Loom of Fate, hence the name), the weather is strange and the barriers between worlds become thin. This'll be our time for extra random events and for recapping the year.
Turn 1: Wood Season, RY 753
Choose at least one from each category. This is a plan vote.
Diplomacy: The giant beast-blooded adventuress Lucky Break has all the subtlety of a volcano. But it's good to have her on your side - and that suplex seems to have done the trick of that.
[ ] You're just arrived on the island and you made a smashing first impression. Lucky Break suggests following this up with a charm offensive. She will personally attend every wedding, every celebration and every event with an open bar. If you want to come with, that's your right as the Punchiest Guy Around.
[ ] Fire Season is traditionally the time for raiding neighbors. You're told that this place isn't rich enough to usually worry about that, but just in case it might be prudent to visit the neighboring islands and make very clear that there's a bigger fish in the reef now. She doesn't need need your help but you'd make a hell of a splash if you wanted to come along.
[ ] Island raiders aren't something you have to worry about as much but pirates on the waters are everyone's trouble. If you could lend her that very fast ship or those very pretty elementals, she could get some lads together and see about hunting pirates and building some goodwill for your new regime.
Martial: Daro is your old tutor and a sterling example of how the Scarlet Empire demands the best even from its servants. The most responsible advisor a man could ask for.
[ ] Since you've appointed him to oversee the military, Daro intends to oversee the military. He wants a full census of the population of the island, including how many are fit for service and what experience they already have. He intends to be very thorough.
[ ] The docks seem to be well in order if you wanted to start on a navy larger than fishing boats, but he's concerned about the supply chain. Timber, pitch, cloth, rope - everything that isn't produced will have to be imported, and he wants to find out what your vulnerabilities are where that's concerned and how that might be corrected.
[ ] Alternatively, you could make use of his other talents. He is still one of the finest teachers in the world, you can attest to that personally. Have him start to bring one of your other councillors up to a more respectable standard. (Who?)
Stewardship: Matron Yaga is one of the most successful businesswomen on the island. You really hope that'll translate well to larger affairs.
[ ] Nobody uses scrip and what's left is an unholy mish-mash of currencies, favors and social credit. In addition, taxes are mostly conducted via payment in kind which means a non-trivial percentage of your treasury is currently in the form of salted fish. Yaga thinks she can compile a more thorough and organized set of conversions than she herself uses so you can know just how much money you have and how much things will cost.
[ ] On the other hand, if you're content to leave the precise figures to her, she can work together with a census effort to get taxes assessed. The old Governor's papers might be helpful for this if you gave her leave to make use of them.
[ ] On the other other hand if you're confident that financial matters will work themselves out in time and that the islanders have quietly paid enough tribute to keep the Realm happy for decades and don't show any sign of stopping, she's happily willing to look for opportunities to expand the wealth of the island instead.
Intrigue: A Little Bird is a small god who wants to become a god of hidden treasures. You're not sure that's how it works, but he's charming enough that you're willing to let him try.
[ ] Bird Friends! A Little Bird can have a series of friendly chats with the birds on the island to have them keep an eye out for trouble, secrets, treasures, and troublesome secret treasures, not necessarily in that order.
[ ] Buried Shinies! When he got the job A Little Bird proposed finding things the Realm left behind on the island when they finished their campaign all those years ago. He's willing to try to dig them up.
Piety: Salt-Blood towers over everyone else (except Lucky Break). He's an unconventional priest, but his god is pretty chill, or so you hear.
[ ] A grand ceremony would be just the thing to establish your standing in the eyes of the gods. As a Dragon-Blood you are considered their equal (or should be, by the Doctrines), thus this would be more the divine rite equivalent of a block party than an actual supplication.
[ ] Alternatively a ceremony specifically focused on his god might be the first step to outright patronage for the island. It's stepping into a divine landscape you know very little about, but if you want to make an ally a friendly storm god isn't a bad bet.
[ ] If you're worried about the expense, he's willing to make a number of smaller offerings - more like a set of letters to the neighbors than a block party on the divine scene.
Learning: Kahu is a sorcerer and more importantly, your brother from another mother. Thinking about it he's actually a lot less likely to stab you in the back than your blood relatives.
[ ] Kahu heard two words when he got here: "haunted woods." He also heard "don't poke the" but that sounds like such a mortal concern. Apparently there's a haunted woods inland and he wants to poke it. Gently, he says.
[ ] Summoning is one of the most absurdly versatile tools that any individual can have at their disposal. The demons of Hell are strange and alien but not universally malicious, and the shaping of elementals to solve problems has a history older than the Realm. Have Kahu provide supernatural backup to someone else's plan. (Whose?)
[ ] He could just strive to make himself generally helpful. Sorcerous Workings of the scale he currently has the time and resources for are little stuff; blessings to roads and fields, creation of small springs, weapons and tools that can repair themselves, that sort of thing. But little stuff adds up.
Personal (Choose 3): You are Nellens Nalazir. And the world is your oyster.
[ ] Find out what happened to the old Governor. "I'm free, I'm free" is not the usual reaction to a man of power being relieved of his office, no matter how small. If you're in for a wild ride you should know now.
[ ] Write home. Let your family know you've arrived in good health. Find out what the expectations of House Nellens will be, and what support they're going to offer you. You're, like, a hundred and eighty percent sure that this island can't afford Daro's salary, much less your or Kahu's stipend.
[ ] Write home. Offer fond regards to a relative of your choice. (Nalazir has a big family - choose a relation and he'll probably have it, or close to it.)
[ ] Accompany a Councillor on their task, either to provide oversight or assistance. (Who?)
[ ] Accomplish something suggested that you didn't give to your Councillor. (What?)
[ ] Investigate a Councillor. Discreetly. You're very good at that part. (Who?)
[ ] Investigate someone or something else. (Who or what?)
[ ] Replace a Councillor. (Who?)
[ ] Other (Write-In)
You and Lucky Break set off to make the most smashing first-and-second impression that's ever been made, making an appearance at every celebration of note that she can think of and a few she hasn't.
Lucky Break. 1d100 + Diplomacy 10 + Party Animal 5 = 98+10+5=113. Critical success!
Nalazir assist - Gubernatorial authority, full bonus. 1d100 + Diplomacy 15 = 83+15=98. Total of 211 vs. DC 30/50/70. Draconic success!
A huge increase in goodwill, and other actions concerning your and your council's interactions with the Unser this year receive a +20 bonus.
Got some juicy rumors as well; expedition investigation options will be available in the next planning phase.
It goes… well. After a fashion.
(Interlude: Party Down Governor!)
Sometimes you succeed well beyond what is expected. A roll of 96-99 is considered a critical success if it passes the DC, and a roll of 100 is always considered a critical success. You can also obtain this with a result more than twice the maximum Difficulty. These provide extra benefits or long-lasting boons commensurate with how difficult the task was in the first place, and are representative of pulling off something worthy of legend.
Conversely, sometimes things just go horribly wrong. A roll of 1 is always considered a critical failure, and a roll of 2-5 is a critical failure if it doesn't pass the DC. This represents an extraordinary setback, and may result in some sort of debilitation or lasting obstacle.
Yes, you can face opposition so stiff or attempt something so impossibly audacious that a roll of 99 won't do it. And (as you do indeed do later this turn) you can stack modifiers so high that you can succeed on a 2. Exalted are sort of like that.
You see Daro and Yaga working together frequently in your time on the island, employing a collection of matchmakers, women of ill repute and then actual census employees; they inform you that they'll provide a full report when they're finished, but their efforts are proceeding well. (The fact that you've suddenly become a very popular man on the island seems to have opened some doors to them, as well.)
Over nightly drinks, Daro informs you that the island is not well-populated but it is pretty well-armed. Engagements when they happen don't involve standing armies (nobody around has the resources for that) but militias made of hearty men and women with a lifetime's experience with hard labor and throwing spears, and for a defensive engagement you should be able to call upon some solid strength to back your own private army. Still nothing compared to the Realm's soldiers, of course, but being worse than the best in the world is just the lot of Threshold people.
You also see him drilling your House Guards - you anticipated there'd be more for them to fight, and while they're loyal a group of highly-trained soldiers sitting around idle is a headache for everyone, so Daro keeping them busy is definitely welcome.
You aren't the only one with multiple actions! Your Councilors will do things either that they think is best or to benefit themselves or their own affairs. These aren't necessarily nefarious, and sometimes they'll help you; Daro felt that your House Guards left unoccupied could become a discipline problem, so he decided to deal with that.
The disadvantage of not accompanying someone for a task personally is that you don't get to see what they rolled. Did they fail, and spend extra actions trying to make up for it? Did they succeed beyond your wildest imaginings and keep it to themselves, whether out of humility or so they don't peg your expectations too high? Guess we'll find out!
If you're in the neighborhood you'll be able to interact with them to see how things are going, or they might report in early if something is particularly important. By contrast if you're off on an adventure (or they are), you'll only hear about it when you return (or when/if they return). But surely this crew of misfits is trustworthy enough for a long leash?
At a housewarming party for a newlywed couple you run into Yaga, who lets you know that taxation-in-kind is going to be an ongoing thorn in her side for determining income and treasury, but one advantage of the system is that her tax assessment is also a highly effective summary of the island's production capabilities. She might be able to speed up Daro's plan to determine what's needed for a real navy considerably.
You also see A Little Bird getting on well with his friends. He lets you know that it's taken some shinies, but you should have the crows on your side. Crows on Unser are apparently quite smart and make lasting friends and hold grudges. This seems impressive until you tell Daro. He informs you that no, actually, all crows are like that, and that they have generational friendships and grudges. Don't mess with crows.
You don't attend the ceremony to the gods personally, but given the spread Salt-Blood is putting together in offerings it had damned well better get a good reception. Yaga knows better than to complain, but you do notice her eye twitch when you mention the expense.
From what you've asked of the locals the only real watchword is "don't poke the haunted forest," but if you get to have fun then Kahu gets to have fun. Together with a pair of hulking earth elementals as bodyguards you bid him farewell at the border of the mists surrounding the forest. The owls hooting are a nice touch, as is the sudden absence of crickets, but Kahu is utterly unruffled by Weird Stuff.
"Make sure to come back," you say, punching his arm, "I don't think I could run this place without you."
"You worry too much!" your oldest friend isn't quite skipping, but all the attitude is there. "Compared to finals week at the Heptagram this'll be a nice spring stroll."
Two weeks later, you find him and his elemental bodyguards drinking at the bar. The earth elementals are trying and failing to drink out of the tiny (for their hand size, anyway) wooden bowls.
"So, how'd it go?" you slide into a seat across from him.
"How did what go?" he looks at you, puzzled. His breath smells heavily of alcohol - he must have really found something good.
"The forest, of course," you say, giving a surreptitious sign to the bartender that he's had enough.
"Oh yeah, I was going to do that!" Kahu pounds the table with his fist. "I'm getting to it, I swear."
...how much did he have to drink? "Kahu, I literally watched you go in."
He stops. Puts aside his bowl. Suddenly he seems a lot more sober.
"Tell me more. What's the date today? Detail how many days it's been and what you've been doing."
You tell him, and he pulls out his notebook. He looks for what notes he might have written, comes up empty, and starts writing furiously in its place.
You lay a hand on his arm, concerned, and he doesn't stop writing. "Kahu, are you all right?"
"Better than all right!" he says with a manic energy. He's got that gleam in his eye that tells you that he'll be fine if only he can figure this out. "If it's got something in there that's got an effect on memories, and maybe written records too? That's way more interesting than just a forest filled with ghosts. Maybe touched by the Wyld, or even a demesne! Alive and wilful, or just metaphysically inclined to be forgotten? I'll need… hmm," he taps his pencil against the table, thinking about it. "An ink that doesn't become writing for a day or two. Can't trust paper so I'll have to write it on my skin. To make it… powdered sapphire would be best. Air and water associations. Something to hold it that won't forget, maybe ivory? Let's do ivory. Nalazir, this is great!"
Well, getting powdered sapphires and ivory out this far is going to be an endeavor. But you're glad he's found himself an interesting puzzle to solve after all.
No progress, investigation halted; cannot be resumed without acquiring exotic components.
Personal. 1d100 + Diplomacy 15 - Embarrassment 10 = 90+5=95 vs DC ???. Nearly the best you can do.
Words have always been one of your weapons, and the letter you compose for your family is filled with the sharpest knives of erudition that you possess. You are a dutiful son, much-maligned it is true but honored by the responsibility they have entrusted to you, at which you will not fail. There are subtle implications that when you come back, it's going to be on a wave of ancient artifacts and wealth and that they'll be terribly sorry they ever threw you out, but it's all put in tones that would leave a person aglow with the upstanding and unimpeachable nature you possess and the grace with which you have taken to your new duty.
They probably won't be fooled. But maybe they'll be sorry enough to throw you a bone.
As you stand on the docks, letter in hand, looking at a Realm courier vessel that is definitely smaller and shabbier than your own, you find that you have company.
All the company.
"Did anyone not write home?" you look at Lucky Break, Matron Yaga, Daro, Salt-Blood, A Little Bird and Kahu.
"Oh, no," Kahu says, petting A Little Bird's feathers, "this guy just came along for the ride."
"You have a spell for this, though," you cock your head at Kahu. He's sent plenty of correspondence to the Heptagram using conjured imps since his endeavor in the Forest.
"Goodness yes!" he laughs, "but for polite matters the Infallible Messengers have a bad habit of popping up during dinner. Great-Aunt Rifae gets a letter, she gets... twitchy about being interrupted at mealtimes."
Well, Nellens Rifae is definitely not someone you want to have twitchy at you, if she had to make her displeasure known she'd probably do it with a dreadnought. For a moment you wonder what Kahu wants from her, but this is Kahu, he'll be fine.
"I didn't know you two could read," you look at Lucky Break and Salt-Blood, who both point in unison to Yaga.
"I do take dictation, of course," Matron Yaga says, making Lucky Break snort and get a severe look for it. "And this is my home; I had some ideas for a venture that could benefit the island and wanted to inquire."
You raise an eyebrow, "and you were going to tell me about this…?"
"If it turns out to be promising," she says smoothly, "otherwise there's no need to waste your time."
It occurs to you that you're probably the foremost expert on ciphers and encryption in at least a hundred mile radius, and moon-demon plots occasionally use traps in letters (not that you're worried, it's just a thing that can happen). If you wanted to handle your council's mail that could increase your security and also give you an idea what business they've got going on, just in case Yaga is plotting something.
Or you could leave it alone. You aren't here to read people's mail, and they'd be grateful for the trust you're showing. Or you could go with your usual course of action and fob it off on Daro.
[ ] Personally Handle Council Correspondence
[ ] Let Daro Handle Council Correspondence
[ ] Do Not Handle Council Correspondence
Personal. 1d100 + Intrigue 28 + Knife Behind a Smile 10 + Party Down Governor! 20 = 6+58=64 vs DC 30/50. The plot is discovered, and some of its principals are too.
"I'm free, I'm free," is not the usual reaction to a man of power being relieved of duty, no matter how small that power actually is, and your consternation on the point is doubled when you find out he bought a ticket aboard the first merchantman that docked, so eager he was to be away. So your first course of action is to go through his house and his files and conduct some interviews to try and figure out what could have possibly engendered such a reaction. There are an awful lot of possibilities - the island is under the secret domination of a moon-demon, the gods are constantly harassing him, constantly possessed by ghosts from the haunted woods, secret ghost pirate patrols… it could be anything, really, couldn't it?
No one is willing to tell you directly what happened, but if that were any impediment to you finding things out you'd have to retire right now in absolute shame. It takes a lot of skimming through the stacks and stacks of reports that the old Governor had written down and a number of friendly discussions where you asked around the incidents without quite getting to the point. That you're present with Lucky Break at celebrations - and that the celebrations are going so well - gives you a nice opportunity to collect gossip on the subject too. If you'd been less wildly successful with them you might have missed something, or at least needed to start breaking out the funny disguises, which could have been… embarrassing.
But the full picture takes shape quite neatly. You had mused to yourself that barbarian plots are adorable just as a matter of comparison to the vicious backstabbing that the Realm enjoys with its daily bread, but what you uncover is probably the cutest nationwide conspiracy you've ever seen.
The old Governor had a problem with delegation, you see this quite clearly in his writings - he wanted things done his way and no other, and tended to step in whenever he felt someone was doing something wrong, which was usually. The degree of micromanagement detailed makes you want a stiffer drink than they make down at the bar just looking at it. He also seems to have had a problem with the idea that things might just resolve themselves if left alone.
On the other hand, the people didn't really have the means of telling him "no" or "go away" or "stop poking the haunted forest." He was, after all, still a representative of the Scarlet Empire with all the authority that carried, and throwing him out would have been a good way of being declared in rebellion and having all their villages leveled to the foundations. So, after some deliberation, the people conducted the friendliest and pettiest siege of the Governor's office in the history of the island.
Over his bulwark of bureaucracy they lobbed a constant barrage of complaints about pig theft or escape, which were always amicably resolved by the time he got there. Tunneling under his moat of ministry was the constant presence of the matchmakers complaining about the youth and their conduct and what he could do about it. But their greatest victories were gained, as they always are over a fortified bastion, by using people on the inside - a plucky farmer's wife was elected to spend about four hours a day hashing out proposals for hardier crossbred grain with him, an endeavor that lasted months and ended with them ultimately deciding to leave the grain as it was. Surrounded on all sides by complaints and proposals he never had the time to actually finish anything and the work of the office ground completely to a halt, which seemed to suit the locals just fine.
If you want to be exceedingly technical it was a conspiracy to undermine the workings of a Satrapy of the Scarlet Empire, but you really just want to pat every last one of them on the head. Unless of course it's some kind of nefarious plot by forces unknown, but in this particular case you doubt it.
Still, there is the question about what you want to do about it.
[ ] Now that you know what's going on it's pretty much toothless. Ignore it and direct your council to do the same.
[ ] Bring together the village heads, let them know you figured it out and that they're very good, but if they try that sort of thing on you you're going to keelhaul them.
[ ] Matron Yaga was almost definitely in on it, as her employees were regular cogs in the conspiracy. Use her as your vehicle for discreetly letting people know it's over.
[ ] Have a little fun with them. Make it look like you're going to go full crucifixions-and-fire on the scourge of hog thieves before revealing the joke.
[ ] Other (Write-In)
He also had a number of unfinished projects, from the dithering about crossbred grain to an attempt to dam the river to improve irrigation to a plan for a branch of secret police specifically chosen from hog farmers to make sure that it was never a problem again. Some of them are a bit batty, but some of them actually do have something going for them. Maybe you can save your people some time (especially planning - most of them never got out of the planning stage) by building on what he left.
Or you can decide they were the madness projects of a control freak losing his mind, and burn them and start anew.
[ ] Keep all old projects. Who knows when the Hogswatch might be needed? [ ] Sort through them and figure out- no, no, no. You have people for that.
[ ] Hand them over to Daro to sort through and figure out which ones are actually workable. Much better.
[ ] Let them be for now.
[ ] Burn them. Burn them all. Invite people to watch.
"Seems a little tame for a coming-of-age, doesn't it?" you say skeptically as you, Lucky Break, Headman Orphon and several of the island's elders wait at the edge of the forest. You think they're the movers and shakers on Unser, but the best linen weaver on the island, a wright who knows how to make incredible tar, the man with the largest pig herds and the woman with the largest extended family aren't exactly what you were thinking of. You've attended three weddings (only kissed two brides and eight bridesmaids, a record in restraint), one funeral (lightened up when you brought candy skulls), two housewarming parties (also kissed two brides), and one homecoming for a lost son who had made his fortune abroad as a mercenary.
"Tree octopi are pretty fierce, boss!" Lucky Break laughs, "they're as smart as people, they've got camouflage and the tentacles make them pretty nimble. More than a match for kids."
At your first Salon you were required to perform an entire Delarosa's Lament on the violin dueling against a harpist-demon capable of literally plucking at people's emotions, but you have to admit this particular ritual has the advantage of ending in fried calamari.
"So, if someone catches a tree octopus they get to be considered a full member of your people?" you ask.
Orphon looks at you, puzzled. "That is more or less-"
"Great!" you say, "be right back." Before he can clarify you're off like a shot, hopping from branch to branch until you're far off the ground, leaping from tree to tree on the lookout for your quarry. If you were a tree octopus, where would you be?
As far away from the kids as possible, most likely. They're trying to be sneaky as they creep through the forest, but…
"You know," you say from atop a branch right behind them, and they all jump a foot in the air. "You're trying to sneak up on tree octopi, but constantly shushing each other kind of gives the game away."
A couple of them scowl at their shush-targets of choice, as if to say that the one needing to be shushed was at fault. "Hello Governor!" one of them waves, "are you going to kill the Demon Queen?"
That gets an exceptional set of shushes. The kid bristles at his peers. "You were all wondering too and now I'm asking!"
Demon Queen, huh? That does sound promising. Is that what the Woods is all about? "Hmm, why don't you tell me about that? Nobody seems to know much about her, I bet you kids know a lot, huh?"
"They're all scared if they talk about her she'll visit," the kid scowls, "it doesn't work that way! She lives far away. She is kinda scary, though! She has monsters to pull her ships and big lions made of jade and she'll walk into your house and ask for wine and smokes and if you don't give it a volcano will explode."
Huh. You've actually heard stories about a volcano god who does that sort of thing, you wonder if the stories have just gotten mixed or if volcano-coerced hospitality is just the thing to do out West.
"I can certainly look into it," you grin, "anything else I should go out and smite? Keep hunting, I'll keep an eye out for octopi too."
As they trek through the forest they start to relax around you, and you hear about an island full of lion-dogs, a palace that's constantly on fire, a ghost ship that only appears every thirty years, and other stories. You are entirely familiar with how rumors work, but those four have enough tooth to them that they might be worth looking into.
"...we haven't seen a single one and I'm hungry." A boy complains, fishing in his pockets for a snack and stopping dead as his hand collides with something.
"It's stealing my bread!" he says, aghast. You look closely and the camouflage on the tree octopi is incredible, if you didn't know where to look you'd think it was just another bit of the forest, even as it's currently picking your companion's pocket. It's about to be swarmed by kids when it pushes off, knocking them all down with a whirl of tentacles and hopping for the brush.
"No you don't!" you surge forward dragon-quick and catch it by the beak. It tries to gnaw off your fingers, but you hold fast.
"So… bait?" the boy pulls himself to his feet.
"That sounds like an excellent idea," you nod, looking for something to tie up your catch with.
You and the rest of them emerge victorious, tree octopi bound in creepers, one each for them, seven for you.
"Look at that, boss! You've become a man!" Lucky Break laughs, but you see the eyes of the elders and they are practically shining. The Unser care a lot about their kids, apparently, and a willingness to look after them has won you a lot of points. Well, good on them.
A tremendous bonus to goodwill, and every Unser-related action taken by you and your council this turn enjoys a bonus.
Investigation options have been unlocked for the Demon Queen, the Isle of Lion-Dogs, the Fire-Petal Sultanate and the Ghost Ship.
