The Pearl on the Shore
He did not emerge from belowdecks until the ship was nearing Luseng Harbor. Nilul had told him that he had an abrasive personality, especially to the uninitiated, and even Saery had agreed. Any first impressions made with words, rather than deeds, would be less than optimal. He had, therefore, studiously avoided overmuch human contact, except to send off a series of wax-sealed envelopes to Admiral Zao.
Those, he hoped, would put the Navy in a position to resist both the depredations of Western Pirates and the influence of Syn. The rest of the time, he'd trained with his blade.
Power could be drawn from an Artifact as the bond between wielder and weapon deepened; long experience and shared tribulation yielded the precious insights by which such weapons could be fully harnessed. Even the most veteran campaigner could wield a flame-daiklave that he was novice to, and do nothing more than hack or slash. Conversely, a young Dynast with that same weapon, bonded since childhood, might well summon army-devouring tides of lava from its unassuming edge.
The world was complex enough that there was normally no substitute for experience. But even its endless chaotic permutations would yield, eventually, to the analysis of the Solar Exalted. Experience yielded breakthroughs of knowledge and comprehension. Deriving similar breakthroughs through sheer theoretical reasoning was, almost always, a task beyond the human intellect. But it was not beyond the mastery of Odyssial.
The battle-meditation of the Lord Strategos had yielded the means by which the Realm Navy could stabilize against an unceasing tide of foes, within and without. That same methodology, he now applied to the blade Ambition. He did not have time to bind the weapon by wielding it in an endless series of travails. Luseng needed him in two days.
Two days, he'd thought. It would have to be enough.
---
Dragonlord Talomar was the highest-ranking officer of the Scarlet Dynasty still active in Luseng, and wasn't that a damn shame.
Nellens Talomar. Aspected to Water, one hundred and fifty-seven years of age. He numbered among the mightier of Nellens Exalted, though he wasn't able to challenge prodigies like Raern. Saery had told him that the new Satrap made Raern look like a boy playing at swords.
He hoped the dependable young miss was right, and that she didn't have a vastly over-inflated view of her friend. He knew that this Sesus Ulyssian had slain Polemgaos, but even Polemgaos would have had trouble salvaging this situation.
Saery had also warned him that the Sesus was notoriously anti-social, and had pleaded for Talomar to "help him." Help him! As he stepped out of his command post to look down upon the greater city, Talomar shook his head.
Help was in short supply these days. Especially here. Outside the city walls burned a thousand smoky fires, the huddled and miserable camps of refugees from all across the countryside. The Fae had cut a twisted path across the land, heading straight from their Freehold to the capital, driving the evacuated peoples before them like cattle. The beastmen held fifty percent of the Satrapy's landmass, the Deathlord another twenty. Much of the satrapy's population was concentrated here, where the Legion was stationed.
The Legion, or what was left of it. One thousand nine hundred and twenty-three men made up the forces at his command, and less than four hundred thirty in auxiliaries. Seven Terrestrial officers, the rest mortals. Bedraggled and multiply decimated, the Ghost-Water Legion was still a formidable force in any encounter, but not formidable enough to hold a satrapy on its own. Not one this beset.
Luseng was still a beautiful city; the sky a blue you'd otherwise find only in watercolors, the Glittering Ford... well, glittering, in the sun. It housed a proud people, cunning and industrious, and they had raised buildings of carved rosewood, pavilions and pagodas on which banners of scarlet and blue cracked and snapped in the brisk sea wind, alleys and thoroughfares arranged in a clean, orderly design. It was a poor thing, that the content of those now-overpopulated thoroughfares was the furthest thing from clean. Aside from the old Royal Palace, the nicest-smelling place in the city was now the Blue-Light District, which maintained strict standards of hygiene and had the pirate bouncers to enforce it.
Things had gotten bad enough that he had considered conscripting the Satrapy's administrative officers, those that were Dragon-Blooded, and their two surviving Immaculate Monks. With the new Satrap arriving at the head of a new Wyld Hunt...
Well, it'd probably still be necessary, but he'd face even more resistance. Perhaps better to do it now, present it as a done deal so this Ulyssian didn't think to reverse it.
Talomar considered, then re-considered. He'd risen to the rank of dragonlord by tactical pragmatism and Nellens savvy, but he'd survived a century and a half by keeping his head down and understanding those in power. A general was a nice, juicy target for assassination, but a dragonlord in a full Legion? Why bother, when there were nine more just like him?
Satraps were nice targets too, he thought grimly. The last hadn't fared well. Cathak Reval had been a stout administrator and dutiful warrior, but no fighter whose best descriptor was "dutiful" stood the remotest chance against the Lily of the Valley. Honest to Dragons, he didn't know if Polemgaos would have stood a chance. Two full Dragons they'd lost to her, and three-fourth of the auxilaries. Three of the Exalted - a staff officer and two Immaculate monks! - had defected to the Gardener to worship her.
He still remembered it every time he closed his eyes. The psychotic bitch with that Dragons-damned peaceful smile on her face, carving through their ranks without a care in the world. One blow she'd landed on Reval and he'd exploded with the force of a punctured balloon, meat and blood and entrails just misting down on top of his bodyguard...
Just days before, Ragmar had assassinated the General. That had been last week.
Talomar wiped his forehead and looked out to the sea, letting the graceful play of the tides sooth him. A crowd was gathering at the harbor, he noted. A crowd all in formal-wear, the thrice-damned viziers of this accursed place, and even some Legion officers. Realization struck Talomar like a knife made of ice. The Satrap!
He was here already, and Talomar was going to be late. The dragonlord took a moment to brace himself for massive disappointment - a coping strategy that had served him excellently in the past. Then, grabbing a bun from a street vendor, he flipped the old gran a half-coin of silver and blitzed his way down the cobblestones.
Late, late, he was going to be late!
---
Present Situation of the City
Luseng is a Throne-held satrapy currently garrisoned by the Nellens 2nd Legion, the "Ghost-Water." A competent but undecorated force, they conquered the satrapy alongside the Cathak 10th Legion, the "Fire-Blades," several months before. With most of the realm's satrapies having been partitioned out to Houses, Throne-held domains are increasingly rare, and the demands put upon them by the Deliberative increasingly unreasonable.
Mood in the Capitol is Mutinous and Panicked.
Overall City Administration is Competent - there are Dragon-Blooded mandarins at the helm, and the viziers of the old king, while self-serving, are politically capable.
The City's Economy is Above Average. Exports continue apace, though not at the lucrative rate of pre-war economic activity. Taxation, however, is Punishing.
The Military Power of the Satrapy is Underwhelming, consisting of one Realm Legion at 40% strength, its Auxilaries at 20% strength, and a basic native militia roughly 1,000 men strong.
The combined military strength of its enemies is Apocalyptic. A Fair Folk Expeditionary Force consisting of two behemoths, ten thousand hobgoblins and wyld horrors, and three hundred Cataphracts, is twelve to twenty-four hours from the capital. It is led by Duke Iron Sislay of the Sislay Chorus, the Raptor-Eyes, the Bane of Steel and Sharpness, who is a direct attendant of Empress Slay.
Luseng's Royal Palace contains a reasonably well-maintained Records Room, but the Great Library of Auseng Bu is deep within beastman-controlled territory. It does not otherwise contain any special repositories of lore, aside from bureaucratic archives from the satrapal administration.
The City Gods are Rudderless, the City Father having disappeared in recent weeks. He is presumed annihilated, a victim of the Abyssal Necromancer The Seeds of the Poppy.
Exalts and Supernatural Creatures
The garrison of Luseng, at full strength, ought contain twenty-four Terrestrial Exalts.
3 have fled to worship the Lily of the Valley, an Anathema of Death, Forsaken Caste.
5 were killed in action.
3 have been captured by enemy forces - 2 by the Fae, and 1 by the Lunar Ragmar. The Fae also hold Luseng's only sorcerer.
1 has disappeared, assumed desertion.
What remains are -
7 of 11 Officers of the Ghost-Water Legion, lead by Nellens Talomar by virtue of his seniority;
3 Officers of the Satrapal Administration, who manage the every-day goings-on of the city;
and 2 Officers of the Legion Auxiliaries, the Dragon-Blooded operative Sesus Maison, and the archer Void Scar.
Within Luseng also resides roughly thirty-two thaumaturges, though most of their powers are not relevant to concerns on the satrapal scale.
---
Ambition's power, awakened, compels you to action. What shall be your first act as Satrap? You may ask questions of your staff if you'd like more details, though I can't guarantee how long I will be online to answer them!
[ ] Head Off the Fae - The Fair Folk are, of course, the imminent threat. One that must be dealt with quickly, and efficiently. There is no time to pursue glory when lives are on the line, and none can move through this terrain like you can. Strike the Fae army in a series of hit-and-fade engagements, using your massive combat power to inflict devastating losses and decapitate their leadership. If - and this is a big if - you can slay their general, their cataphracts, and their behemoths, then what remains of the hobgoblins will be easy pickings for the Legion. [Gets you into the fight immediately, saving time and lives]
[ ] Siege Warfare - Your first impression was to be a deed, and a victory here, with the entire Legion arrayed and the whole city watching, will be a feat in deed. This will give you time to familiarize yourself with the Legionary command and see to the structure of their established fortifications, as well as giving you the full support of the Legion in the battle to come. However, the Fae will continue to blaze their path of twisted destruction across Luseng, and even a victorious battle could spill devastation into the main body of the city, especially among the refugee tents. Of course, fighting an enormous Fae army is also much more realistic with a Realm Legion, even one so diminished, by your side. [Substantially improves morale, and chances of a successful battle are moderately high]
[ ] Contemplation - You need to properly evaluate the situation before deciding on so drastic a course of action. Luckily, the Records Room, combined with the personal experience of the old court's viziers, does contain enough relevant information for you to productively employ a single strategic meditation. With at least twelve hours to go, you do barely have enough time as well, if you act with desperate haste. The paltry effects of mundane preparation are unlikely to matter in the course of a battle this size. Though it may seem enigmatic at best, suicidally insane at worst, your best course of action right now is to enter the battle-trance and discern the shape of the world. [May lower morale, but Prophet of Seventeen Cycles will impose significant penalties and grant substantial bonuses where appropriate, with effects that resound beyond this single siege. May unlock devastating stratagems for battle.]
[ ] Write-In - Of course, as the Satrap it is your prerogative to do what you want...
