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[X] You are Lord Ramiro
[Exalted] A Kingdom of Cinders
- Thread starter SunnySprings
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- exalted (white wolf)
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👀wow this is a close one
Leingod
Immaculate Blooming Lotus
[X] You are Lady Julia.
-You never really cared about your family name. That isn't to say you don't love your family, far from it; you watched, tears streaming down your face, as your parents begged the Guild debt collectors for more time after your brother's funeral, furious at how they humiliated your parents. You now know that titles are empty words, meaningless in the face of actual power. People, however, are very valuable; both the nobles and the Guild would be nothing without them. You are a Wood Aspect, and the peasants you will come to rule are a fertile garden, waiting to be grown into your future base of power.
I like the implication of a canny, politically-inclined protagonist here.
-You never really cared about your family name. That isn't to say you don't love your family, far from it; you watched, tears streaming down your face, as your parents begged the Guild debt collectors for more time after your brother's funeral, furious at how they humiliated your parents. You now know that titles are empty words, meaningless in the face of actual power. People, however, are very valuable; both the nobles and the Guild would be nothing without them. You are a Wood Aspect, and the peasants you will come to rule are a fertile garden, waiting to be grown into your future base of power.
I like the implication of a canny, politically-inclined protagonist here.
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I should probably mention, since I didn't really have any way of putting it into that post that made sense, that whatever character you choose will wield stupefyingly powerful and mystical martial arts. You don't get very far as an Exalt unless you're willing to throw down (or have another Exalt who will do it for you).
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Poor Lady Julia. I thought she was cool 🥲.
But in any case, dudes rock.
But in any case, dudes rock.
Chapter 1.2
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You help the poor man out; you flick your wrist just so, coaxing out the flame within you into a small globule of vermilion fire that levitates an inch above your palm. Now dramatically lit, you say, "I am Lord Synetos Ramiro, grandson of Baron Florentin. Upon the honor of my house, I have come to ward your village from further harm and to punish the malefactor who has dared wrong you!" You've had three days to practice this introduction in your head on the road; your only companions were the handful of books you brought with you and your horse, a chestnut-coated gelding from your family's stables by the name of Tireless. He goes to one knee the instant he heard your family name, as you would expect, lays on effusive praise of the Dragon-blooded, and introduces himself somewhere in between thanking the baron and you (his name is Luis), but then he says something that confuses you.
"Ah, my lord, are you working with the other Prince of the Earth here?" Luis's shoulders are clenching tightly, his pockmarked face is dripping with sweat.
You raise an eyebrow. "Who?"
He says, "There is a mercenary here, my lord, a foreigner. We had assumed your grandfather had hired him to deal with our problem." You stifle a laugh; your grandfather loathes the "barbarians" that live outside Amaya and outcastes just as much. Not to mention your family definitely could not afford the services of any Dragon-blood that knew their own worth.
"No, we have no need for any mercenary." You notice his shoulders loosen slightly, and then you ask, "Is there something the matter?"
"Well, my lord, he hasn't really done anything apart from drinking in our inn for the last two days, and, erm..." Luis stops.
"Continue on, Luis," you say. "I need to hear it all if I am to help."
He looks down at the ground as he replies, "He- He insults the peasants here, my lord, with crude jokes, and complains about receiving the gift of the Dragons. Says it ruined his life."
How odd. You personally have been elated with your own powers; the Exaltation burning within you has opened up new vistas of recollection and understanding, and your mind comes up with new ideas faster than any wildfire can spread. Your grandfather, the only other Exalt you know, considers it to be a mark of inherent splendor and spiritual purity. But, now you're curious: not every day you see someone who hates the Exaltation. What a novel perspective! However, you then recall what you're here to do.
On the road, you concluded that the first thing you would do in town is examine the body of the murder victim. Totaling the time it took for the crime to be reported via courier and the time it took you to get here, it's been rotting for eight days. For a mortal investigator, that would be undoubtedly a daunting task, but as an Exalt, you might be able to pull off getting some evidence from the corpse. Still, letting it rot for yet another night wouldn't exactly make it easier on you either, and you're equally curious as to what exactly happened here.
What should we do first?
[ ] Investigate the body. There's no time to waste! Any longer and vital clues may be lost.
[ ] Deal with the other Dragon-blood. You're the only one in town who can deal with a drunk and morose Prince of the Earth.
"Ah, my lord, are you working with the other Prince of the Earth here?" Luis's shoulders are clenching tightly, his pockmarked face is dripping with sweat.
You raise an eyebrow. "Who?"
He says, "There is a mercenary here, my lord, a foreigner. We had assumed your grandfather had hired him to deal with our problem." You stifle a laugh; your grandfather loathes the "barbarians" that live outside Amaya and outcastes just as much. Not to mention your family definitely could not afford the services of any Dragon-blood that knew their own worth.
"No, we have no need for any mercenary." You notice his shoulders loosen slightly, and then you ask, "Is there something the matter?"
"Well, my lord, he hasn't really done anything apart from drinking in our inn for the last two days, and, erm..." Luis stops.
"Continue on, Luis," you say. "I need to hear it all if I am to help."
He looks down at the ground as he replies, "He- He insults the peasants here, my lord, with crude jokes, and complains about receiving the gift of the Dragons. Says it ruined his life."
How odd. You personally have been elated with your own powers; the Exaltation burning within you has opened up new vistas of recollection and understanding, and your mind comes up with new ideas faster than any wildfire can spread. Your grandfather, the only other Exalt you know, considers it to be a mark of inherent splendor and spiritual purity. But, now you're curious: not every day you see someone who hates the Exaltation. What a novel perspective! However, you then recall what you're here to do.
On the road, you concluded that the first thing you would do in town is examine the body of the murder victim. Totaling the time it took for the crime to be reported via courier and the time it took you to get here, it's been rotting for eight days. For a mortal investigator, that would be undoubtedly a daunting task, but as an Exalt, you might be able to pull off getting some evidence from the corpse. Still, letting it rot for yet another night wouldn't exactly make it easier on you either, and you're equally curious as to what exactly happened here.
What should we do first?
[ ] Investigate the body. There's no time to waste! Any longer and vital clues may be lost.
[ ] Deal with the other Dragon-blood. You're the only one in town who can deal with a drunk and morose Prince of the Earth.
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[X] Deal with the other Dragon-blood. You're the only one in town who can deal with a drunk and morose Prince of the Earth.
[X] Investigate the body. There's no time to waste! Any longer and vital clues may be lost.
The dude spent two days drinking without issues, he can wait.
The dude spent two days drinking without issues, he can wait.
Leingod
Immaculate Blooming Lotus
On the one hand, we might end up wasting precious time and let the trail go cold dealing with what's essentially just an irritating drunk. On the other, depending on what this guy's deal is we might be able to get his help dealing with things, which could potentially make a huge difference.
[X] Investigate the body. There's no time to waste! Any longer and vital clues may be lost.
This is probably the more time-sensitive task, though. Worst that can happen is that the merc leaves and we don't get to know what his deal was.
[X] Investigate the body. There's no time to waste! Any longer and vital clues may be lost.
This is probably the more time-sensitive task, though. Worst that can happen is that the merc leaves and we don't get to know what his deal was.
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Histories 1.1
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Small update, boss. I've been reading the copy I made of that history text. It's up to you, but I'd skip the tangents he goes on about vineyards; even if you ignore the various heresies, I'd still think he deserves to be arrested solely for being insufferable. I've been leafing through the thousand pages of this mess, and I found something of interest:
Amaya's current social structure evolved out of the Three Princes War, ranging from 282 (after the suspiciously untimely death of King Ashiri Efiram) to 344 (the final victory of Princess Ashiri Eliya at the Battle of the Five Arroyos). Eliya and her companions, the Brotherhood of the Owl, were repulsed by the brutality of the conflict and swore that, upon achieving victory, that they would restructure society to prevent such senseless bloodshed from happening again. After long debates with each other and the Immaculate monks of the Levinfall Temple, the Brotherhood concluded that the idolization of the warrior class that Amaya had inherited from the Shogunate was a mistake; after all, it was the standing military's generals that had encouraged Eliya's brothers to seize the throne. The new society that Eliya envisioned was one in which the Dragon-blooded nobility were enlightened scholars and spiritual leaders who would cultivate the land, capable of leading an army if needed but only in defense or as a last resort. The mortal nobility would serve to implement their designs, and below them, the peasantry would endeavor to produce all that the nation needed. Below the peasantry, the merchants, who produce nothing and grow rich off other's labor. Outside of the order entirely, the military, whose profession only destroys.
Of course, one can easily see the flaws inherent in this idealistic system manifest today, despite the imbecilic bleating of Ramos of Jondo, who claims that the merchants "know their role and place in our nation." Fool, the merchants collaborate with The Guild to beggar this country's nobility! Nobles, lacking the standing armies of the days of old, turn to foreign mercenaries to settle their petty disagreements, and The Guild is all but happy to loan out its own for an ever-increasing price. I would gladly challenge Ramos to a duel if we were ever to meet; I know for a fact my draw with a flame piece will be faster than his.
What a completely ass-backwards country. Can't say that the Realm's merchants are on the straight and narrow, but our legions put the fear of the dragons into their greedy little souls, and that goes a long way. Anyway, point is that this arrangement these barbarians have makes them overly reliant on outcaste mercenaries, who have valuable experience leading armies that many of the alleged scholars here lack. Of course, Amayan society also shits on them constantly. Could be prudent to start recruiting them in the future.
-E
Amaya's current social structure evolved out of the Three Princes War, ranging from 282 (after the suspiciously untimely death of King Ashiri Efiram) to 344 (the final victory of Princess Ashiri Eliya at the Battle of the Five Arroyos). Eliya and her companions, the Brotherhood of the Owl, were repulsed by the brutality of the conflict and swore that, upon achieving victory, that they would restructure society to prevent such senseless bloodshed from happening again. After long debates with each other and the Immaculate monks of the Levinfall Temple, the Brotherhood concluded that the idolization of the warrior class that Amaya had inherited from the Shogunate was a mistake; after all, it was the standing military's generals that had encouraged Eliya's brothers to seize the throne. The new society that Eliya envisioned was one in which the Dragon-blooded nobility were enlightened scholars and spiritual leaders who would cultivate the land, capable of leading an army if needed but only in defense or as a last resort. The mortal nobility would serve to implement their designs, and below them, the peasantry would endeavor to produce all that the nation needed. Below the peasantry, the merchants, who produce nothing and grow rich off other's labor. Outside of the order entirely, the military, whose profession only destroys.
Of course, one can easily see the flaws inherent in this idealistic system manifest today, despite the imbecilic bleating of Ramos of Jondo, who claims that the merchants "know their role and place in our nation." Fool, the merchants collaborate with The Guild to beggar this country's nobility! Nobles, lacking the standing armies of the days of old, turn to foreign mercenaries to settle their petty disagreements, and The Guild is all but happy to loan out its own for an ever-increasing price. I would gladly challenge Ramos to a duel if we were ever to meet; I know for a fact my draw with a flame piece will be faster than his.
What a completely ass-backwards country. Can't say that the Realm's merchants are on the straight and narrow, but our legions put the fear of the dragons into their greedy little souls, and that goes a long way. Anyway, point is that this arrangement these barbarians have makes them overly reliant on outcaste mercenaries, who have valuable experience leading armies that many of the alleged scholars here lack. Of course, Amayan society also shits on them constantly. Could be prudent to start recruiting them in the future.
-E
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I'll be posting more of these in between future updates, but admittedly this is a small stopgap while I try to figure out the system I'll be using, as I discovered a rather unfortunate flaw with the one I threw together that would've made it suck. Apologies, dear readers, should have my shit together by the weekend.
Oh, a small nations overly relying on mercenaries always ends well.
Ramiro's going to want to invest in some War charms at some point. Something tells me they'll be useful.
Chapter 1.3
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You decide that, if your grandfather is going to make you do busy work, that you should be able to indulge yourself somewhat. This will probably be the most exciting thing that happens to you during this entire trip, after all. You say to Luis, as you dismount your horse, "Point me to the inn. I'll see if I can get the man to shape up and apologize for his treatment of you all."
He bows, and says, "Bless you again, my lord! It's over there." He points to one of the more well-lit buildings off in the darkness; the only thing that distinguishes it from the other sun-bleached buildings is that its one story taller and somewhat wider.
You nod and say, "Thank you. Have my horse stabled; I'll find lodgings for the rest of the night at the inn once I resolve this matter." Before you hand him the reins to Tireless, you reach into the pack mounted on his back. You had no need to be armed on the road; at the very least, banditry is not one of the issues that your barony faces when there is so much more profitable quarries to be pursued to the south of your lands. You don't have much in the way of armor; apart from a black gambeson thrown over your silk tunic, you're fairly vulnerable. You'll have to rely primarily on your skills and your weapon to defend yourself if diplomacy fails.
What weapon do we draw from our pack?
[ ] A spear. You were taught the Fuligin Tusk Style, an obscure and occult style focused on devastating spear charges and controlling the movement of your foe via gravity, by a demon your grandfather had summoned.
[ ] A pair of short swords. Donations made to the Immaculates in Adamanta secured you tutelage from a monk in Fire Dragon Style, an aggressive but graceful style that emphasizes fast strikes and pressing one's enemy relentlessly.
[ ] A bladed whip. A favorite of Amayan nobility inherited from the days of the Shogunate, still unable to be replicated by modern means. Your grandfather taught you personally in the difficult Wyrm's Tongue Style, made to fully exploit the bladed whip's natural range and to drain one's foes of both blood and Essence.
[ ] An axe. A foreign mercenary, an Icewalker exiled from his tribe in the Far North, was paid to teach you the art of wielding an axe. The style you learned from this man, the Mammoth Slayer Style, revolves around patiently setting up a devastating blow that will end a fight in one strike.
He bows, and says, "Bless you again, my lord! It's over there." He points to one of the more well-lit buildings off in the darkness; the only thing that distinguishes it from the other sun-bleached buildings is that its one story taller and somewhat wider.
You nod and say, "Thank you. Have my horse stabled; I'll find lodgings for the rest of the night at the inn once I resolve this matter." Before you hand him the reins to Tireless, you reach into the pack mounted on his back. You had no need to be armed on the road; at the very least, banditry is not one of the issues that your barony faces when there is so much more profitable quarries to be pursued to the south of your lands. You don't have much in the way of armor; apart from a black gambeson thrown over your silk tunic, you're fairly vulnerable. You'll have to rely primarily on your skills and your weapon to defend yourself if diplomacy fails.
What weapon do we draw from our pack?
[ ] A spear. You were taught the Fuligin Tusk Style, an obscure and occult style focused on devastating spear charges and controlling the movement of your foe via gravity, by a demon your grandfather had summoned.
[ ] A pair of short swords. Donations made to the Immaculates in Adamanta secured you tutelage from a monk in Fire Dragon Style, an aggressive but graceful style that emphasizes fast strikes and pressing one's enemy relentlessly.
[ ] A bladed whip. A favorite of Amayan nobility inherited from the days of the Shogunate, still unable to be replicated by modern means. Your grandfather taught you personally in the difficult Wyrm's Tongue Style, made to fully exploit the bladed whip's natural range and to drain one's foes of both blood and Essence.
[ ] An axe. A foreign mercenary, an Icewalker exiled from his tribe in the Far North, was paid to teach you the art of wielding an axe. The style you learned from this man, the Mammoth Slayer Style, revolves around patiently setting up a devastating blow that will end a fight in one strike.
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[X]A spear. You were taught the Fuligin Tusk Style, an obscure and occult style focused on devastating spear charges and controlling the movement of your foe via gravity, by a demon your grandfather had summoned.
Almost went for Fire Dragon style but this sounds to cool to pass up.
Almost went for Fire Dragon style but this sounds to cool to pass up.
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[X] An axe. A foreign mercenary, an Icewalker exiled from his tribe in the Far North, was paid to teach you the art of wielding an axe. The style you learned from this man, the Mammoth Slayer Style, revolves around patiently setting up a devastating blow that will end a fight in one strike.
A single strike to end the fight, a single strike to take his head.
A single strike to show exalted might, A single strike inspired dread.
"You'll die in a single strike." Was all he said.
A single strike to end the fight, a single strike to take his head.
A single strike to show exalted might, A single strike inspired dread.
"You'll die in a single strike." Was all he said.
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[X] A pair of short swords. Donations made to the Immaculates in Adamanta secured you tutelage from a monk in Fire Dragon Style, an aggressive but graceful style that emphasizes fast strikes and pressing one's enemy relentlessly.