SirLagginton
Shadow Cabal Caerbannog Bun-Bun
- Location
- Arrrghhh
Hmmmm, I wonder when the Aust twins are going to graduate? I would certainly not be opposed to some Dragonblooded mercenaries right now.
[Exalted, ?] Most High
- Thread starter Rihaku
- Start date
-
- Tags
- exalted (white wolf)
Signs point to yes.
SirLagginton
Shadow Cabal Caerbannog Bun-Bun
- Location
- Arrrghhh
I suppose I should also note that allying with the Lily means that we would be taking the Abyssals' heaviest hitter out of the equation (and also into our hands), which considering we're facing an entire circle of Abyssals is very helpful. The intelligence on her compatriots and the Gardener is also something to be considered as well.
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That's fast.
Also, take the fourth option and ally with both Lily and the Fae.
Well that depends on the terms of the Alliance. As well as what Gardener's agenda actually is. The way allying with Poppy locked out any other alliances is difficult to square. I had assumed it was likely because of higher levels of loyalty to the Gardener among the rest of the Abyssals, but the way it was implied that we could ally with Lily relatively easily calls that into question somewhat, unless the Gardener is cool with it in this case.
Rihaku
The Internet
It was mostly written already!
Heavy Lies The Crown
Rihaku
The Internet
Heavy Lies The Crown
While he decided on a course of action for the city, Ulyssian pondered the dozens of disasters - some minute, others grand - that plagued any large, newly vested administration. Though he had grown somewhat used to Luseng's chaos and had an affection for its crowded streets and magnificent beauty, he found himself... missing his friends at the Academy.
Nilul, Moon, Pearl and Zao. Saery and Hero. Even the presence of the other Dragon-Blooded there, the ones that had regarded him with disbelieving scorn during his time as a mortal, and awed deference when he was 'revealed' as Zao's secret apprentice. Not a few had tried to take advantage of the 'blunder' of his reveal to petition Zao, asking the legendary Headmaster to drop him and take them on in his place. His features curled into a grin. The Academy felt so far away, though he'd been here only a few weeks.
He could see, now, how thin the Realm's line of control ran. The Satrapy was the Realm's in name, but any order had to be processed through the motions of the Deliberative, then issued towards Home Office, which would place its own agendas and interpretations upon the missives given. Only then would they be placed on a boat, a scroll sealed with the red wax of the Lord Regent and the violet ink of the Home Office. That ship would have to navigate the narrow sea to the satrapy in question, and only then would the Satrap choose whether to obey his orders, or whether to ignore them. And if he did the latter, it would be weeks, if not months, until Home Office knew. If he did the former, but decided to interpret his orders in a way unintended - well, that made discipline even more difficult. And only the most egregious of Satrapal governors could be publicly punished to any significant degree, lest discontent boil over into rebellion on a dozen distant shores.
Anys Syn would likely expedite the process for him. But even "Hesiesh" had her limits. In the meantime, he ruled effective as king. Infalliable Messengers could be intercepted with certain sophisticated wards and faked, so they were no longer relied upon for official communications of this secure nature. He had the ingenuity of some Lunar sorceress to think for that. It'd been a change implemented only in these last four years; a stir had been caused when a prosperous Satrapy was baited into open revolt by a series of venomous miscommunications, worded carefully enough that the subtext was infuriating while the actual orders corresponded quite accurately to the original intent. It had taken Exalted investigators full days to discover the truth, in the aftermath of a gutted Satrapal palace and marrow burned to ashes.
Talomar was near his only friend in this entire nation, though Ulyssian got along well enough with the men of the Ghost-Water. His puported aide-de-camp seemed content to laze around doing not much of anything, and wary of sabatoge, Ulyssian had not intervened. As for the Dragon-Blooded administrators, he didn't dislike them, and none of them seemed to have been caught up in the matter with Teft Luwao.
Luwao. He'd given the corrupt Dragon-Blooded a stay of execution, somewhat against his better judgement. The man was still sentenced to die, but he was an instrumental gear in the satrapy's bureaucratic machine, and competence could buy him clemency. It wasn't an ideal solution, but he as Satrap couldn't afford a crippled administration, not when taxes were also so punishingly high. The Realm levied heavy tariffs and taxed exports, luxuries, the Blue-Light District, and administration revenue. The satrapy's first payment was scheduled to go out this week, along with word from Home Office of his ostensible 'orders.'
It was foolish to wish for friends, though. At this moment, Luseng was far from safe. Ragmar had assassinated the last General. The Abyssal manslayer, The Lily of the Valley, had slain the last Satrap in a single blow. All his bodyguards and armies hadn't saved him. Had barely stopped her.
He was not the previous general, nor the previous Satrap. He was a Solar Exalt, the full reincarnation of Odyssial, Lord Strategos of the Exalted Host, armed with the blade Ambition which had proved its wielder supreme among that Host in affairs of the sword. Trained for months by the legendary Lung Feng Zao. He had slain heroes and armies. But his friends were a different matter, and death on the battlefield - or even by assassin's knife - was not the only vector by which his foes could strike. He knew that well, having exemplified that very philosophy when he'd been a mortal.
Destroy your enemies before they know you even oppose them. That had been Odyssial's philosophy, and it'd served him well. But it was not a luxury afforded to the satrap of a city-state, who had to rule openly for several hours of the day. It was not practical, either, when Luseng had so many foes, was beset on all sides, and all of them so mighty. After all, this was the most disastrously regicidal territory his mortal foe could find, to assign him in.
He stood, and made his way out of the palace, taking note of the glances the Viziers shot his way when they thought he couldn't see. Fear, awe, respect - yes. But self-interested calculation as well, envy and the understanding that this state of affairs couldn't continue. This was no equilibrium; they were at a balancing point, and any wrong move might send the entire city tumbling into anarchy and ruin. They were snakes, these viziers, as much so as his fellow students in the Naval Academy.
Out on the streets, however, a different sentiment prevailed. Luseng was packed close to bursting, near twenty times over its normal carrying capacity in terms of population. Squalor and idleness permeated the realm, but none of that held purchase where he walked. The people had taken to him with a fanatical zeal that was both reassuring and bewildering. Reassuring, because it meant he could take to the streets even if official sanction attempted to lay him low. Bewildering, because he knew he wasn't typically a likable person. He'd made few speeches and cultivated few true allies, but the common man seemed to care only that he'd been a scourge against their enemies.
"King Sesus! King Sesus!" A group of refugees perked up as he approached, careful not to block him off, arms outstretched to brush against his armor.
"Honestly, sire, I thought we were dead when the Fae came. Truly you are a Prince of the Earth, not like those other squabblers, who sit in their forts and cower!" An old man who effusively shook his hands, eyes spirited. Ulyssian carefully surveyed the area for assassins.
"My daughter married a man in the Legions, my lord. He says you saved his life against the dead! A horde of fifty zombies, and you cut them down like butter!" A female baker, matronly, wearing a headscarf and blue apron. She pressed a loaf of bread into his arms.
"Teach me to fight!" A child ran out from under her skirts, waving a wooden sword. She hushed him swiftly, voice low and scolding.
"Dragons bless you, my lord..."
"Sire, may the Gods bless you. We are all praying for you..." Would information about him leak to Heaven, he wondered? It was all but inevitable, he supposed...
"I've named my child after you, sire. Say hello, Uly!" That deserved more than his standard noncomittal nod. He patted the child on the head, timidly.
"Those viziers aren't troubling you, are they, my lord? We'll have them out on the street!"
"Bit shamed to admit it, sire, but my wife and kids are the breadwinners now, with that prayer program of yours. Don't suppose you intend to re-conquer all the landfarm out there? I know it's a lot to ask, but for someone like you..."
"Sire, are you married? Do you have a girlfriend..."
"Thank you, Sesus Ulyssian. Thank the Dragons for you..." A sobbing man, gaunt and twisted over, who refused to explain himself.
"My lord, you deserve better. When're you gonna kill that Luwao prick? He deserves the sword. The sword, I say! I'd do it myself, I would..."
"Here." An outstretched hand, small and chubby. In it were coins of bronze and copper. A child with dirt-stained cheeks. "Daddy says you're low on money, but you saved us. So, um, I thought we should help."
"You needn't worry about that, little one," Ulyssian replied. "Thank you, but the money's yours. Your father wouldn't want you to be giving it out to strangers. That's unwise."
"You're not a stranger," the child protested. "You're the King!"
Had he... had he truly forgotten, what it was like to rule? Was there so little of Odyssial left? Or had Odyssial simply never, never seen his people on a level such as this? More than a mere burden, the people were, could be, a source of strength. As they drew strength from him, he could from them. Together.
Foolishness. Odyssial was no ivory tower savant, incapable of accurately modeling people with only theoretical information. And the acclaim of the masses rarely lasted long. They were fickle, and would abandon him when his need was direst. That he knew well. It was the nature of men, the nature of power. To grow attached to them, was only to expose them to those who would attack him through them. Not that they were especially safe otherwise, not here.
He couldn't even protect his own secrets as a Solar Exalt. He wasn't even confident he could secure this place for his friends, not with himself so weak still. How could he protect... all of them?
[ ] He could try - And he would try earnestly, but not to the degree that he would sacrifice all for it. This was not the ambition that burned in his being, and not every impossible task could be confronted so openly.
[ ] He could find a way - He could stop mooning about like his mortal self never would have, shut up, and find a way. Little is beyond his ingenuity and skill, and if he is to reign, he will not content himself with merely reigning 'well' compared to others. He is Odyssial, and they are his - adopted - peoples. Nothing more needs to be said.
[ ] Base Sentimentality - The crowd is capricious. Men are easy to rise in their esteem, easier to slander and defame. He will not alter how he acts to the common people, and deny them overmuch purchase in his heart. To do otherwise is folly unfitting of Odyssial. He will not be cruel, nor will he be colder than usual, nor will he particularly neglect them. But he has a mission, a goal, and a purpose already. He will not turn from for acclaim so fleeting as this. Today's conquering hero is tomorrow's despised tyrant. Every man thinks he can do better than the king. Well, he cares not what they think.
---
Later, when he'd made his way down to the docks, Talomar caught sight of him and raised a hand in greeting.
"Mornin', guvn'r," the Dragonlord said, chewing heavily on a croissant.
Ulyssian handed him the loaf of bread, which he took gladly. "Thanks, guvn'r! This is good stuff, this. Florent's Bakery, right? They give you another loaf?"
"It may be indirect advertisement for them," Ulyssian said cynically. "Why are you calling me guvn'r?"
Talomar blinked, somewhat embarrassed. "Er, ah. It seemed like the thing to do, sir. What with everyone calling you king and stuff. It's sort of the style among the young kids these days, and I thought, well, why not try it myself?"
"I see," Ulyssian said. "Has the ship come in yet?"
"Yup." Talomar nodded, pointing to the Realm cutter that was loading full barrels of obels into its hull. Orders from Home Office would no doubt arrive from its captain soon.
"I'm anticipating bad news," Odyssial said, as they walked through the maze of crates towards the cutter.
He was right.
---
Taxes up ten percent across the board. Orders to aggressively promote the Immaculate Philosophy, to strike immediately at all the Realm's enemies in the region, to build up Luseng's economy... a contradictory and ill-formed mess. Calculated to ensure he would fail in at least one area, whether from overwork or a simple lack of desire to try.
Well. Nothing unexpected.
[ ] Grin and Bear It - If this is the extent to which Anys is willing to interfere with you, then so be it. You will not escalate things with her, not at this time, not when you are still weak. She is giving you time, and even these ludicrous orders can be worked around. If you are made to fail publicly, so what? That is a matter of months from now, before it can even be confirmed, much less disseminated around the Realm. In the meantime, you'll continue to build your power base unmolested, save for the nuisance of higher taxes. The coffers of Luseng run low indeed, but you've a few ideas to fix that. Markets are systems like any other, and they come easily to you now. You might even call your talents prophetic...
[ ] Subversion - If Anys wants to play the game, she'll find her enemy a more than capable foe. Cut back on administrative duties and take out loans: It's time to show her just how obstructive a Solar strategist can be. Choke the life out of her bureaucracy, mire its every action in corruption, vested interests, and red tape. The Magistracies, the only officially sanctioned checks on House power, are already weakened to the point of uselessness. Conflict and division shall rain upon the Realm, and its Immaculate Philosophy will face a hundred thousand tiny heresies. It'll be a cold day in Malfeas before she gets another cutter out to you, much less one with orders like these.
[ ] Naval Assistance - Ask Zao to exert some influence on your behalf. Ensure that this ship's trip back is severely delayed due to naval operations of utmost secrecy along its route, and that the next one to arrive will takes weeks, if not months, of utterly necessary detours. Of course, this does not solve the problem at the root and may make things difficult for Zao, but it will direct heat against him, instead of you.
[ ] Write-In
Also, you received a one-time Limit vented from your interactions with the common folk.
While he decided on a course of action for the city, Ulyssian pondered the dozens of disasters - some minute, others grand - that plagued any large, newly vested administration. Though he had grown somewhat used to Luseng's chaos and had an affection for its crowded streets and magnificent beauty, he found himself... missing his friends at the Academy.
Nilul, Moon, Pearl and Zao. Saery and Hero. Even the presence of the other Dragon-Blooded there, the ones that had regarded him with disbelieving scorn during his time as a mortal, and awed deference when he was 'revealed' as Zao's secret apprentice. Not a few had tried to take advantage of the 'blunder' of his reveal to petition Zao, asking the legendary Headmaster to drop him and take them on in his place. His features curled into a grin. The Academy felt so far away, though he'd been here only a few weeks.
He could see, now, how thin the Realm's line of control ran. The Satrapy was the Realm's in name, but any order had to be processed through the motions of the Deliberative, then issued towards Home Office, which would place its own agendas and interpretations upon the missives given. Only then would they be placed on a boat, a scroll sealed with the red wax of the Lord Regent and the violet ink of the Home Office. That ship would have to navigate the narrow sea to the satrapy in question, and only then would the Satrap choose whether to obey his orders, or whether to ignore them. And if he did the latter, it would be weeks, if not months, until Home Office knew. If he did the former, but decided to interpret his orders in a way unintended - well, that made discipline even more difficult. And only the most egregious of Satrapal governors could be publicly punished to any significant degree, lest discontent boil over into rebellion on a dozen distant shores.
Anys Syn would likely expedite the process for him. But even "Hesiesh" had her limits. In the meantime, he ruled effective as king. Infalliable Messengers could be intercepted with certain sophisticated wards and faked, so they were no longer relied upon for official communications of this secure nature. He had the ingenuity of some Lunar sorceress to think for that. It'd been a change implemented only in these last four years; a stir had been caused when a prosperous Satrapy was baited into open revolt by a series of venomous miscommunications, worded carefully enough that the subtext was infuriating while the actual orders corresponded quite accurately to the original intent. It had taken Exalted investigators full days to discover the truth, in the aftermath of a gutted Satrapal palace and marrow burned to ashes.
Talomar was near his only friend in this entire nation, though Ulyssian got along well enough with the men of the Ghost-Water. His puported aide-de-camp seemed content to laze around doing not much of anything, and wary of sabatoge, Ulyssian had not intervened. As for the Dragon-Blooded administrators, he didn't dislike them, and none of them seemed to have been caught up in the matter with Teft Luwao.
Luwao. He'd given the corrupt Dragon-Blooded a stay of execution, somewhat against his better judgement. The man was still sentenced to die, but he was an instrumental gear in the satrapy's bureaucratic machine, and competence could buy him clemency. It wasn't an ideal solution, but he as Satrap couldn't afford a crippled administration, not when taxes were also so punishingly high. The Realm levied heavy tariffs and taxed exports, luxuries, the Blue-Light District, and administration revenue. The satrapy's first payment was scheduled to go out this week, along with word from Home Office of his ostensible 'orders.'
It was foolish to wish for friends, though. At this moment, Luseng was far from safe. Ragmar had assassinated the last General. The Abyssal manslayer, The Lily of the Valley, had slain the last Satrap in a single blow. All his bodyguards and armies hadn't saved him. Had barely stopped her.
He was not the previous general, nor the previous Satrap. He was a Solar Exalt, the full reincarnation of Odyssial, Lord Strategos of the Exalted Host, armed with the blade Ambition which had proved its wielder supreme among that Host in affairs of the sword. Trained for months by the legendary Lung Feng Zao. He had slain heroes and armies. But his friends were a different matter, and death on the battlefield - or even by assassin's knife - was not the only vector by which his foes could strike. He knew that well, having exemplified that very philosophy when he'd been a mortal.
Destroy your enemies before they know you even oppose them. That had been Odyssial's philosophy, and it'd served him well. But it was not a luxury afforded to the satrap of a city-state, who had to rule openly for several hours of the day. It was not practical, either, when Luseng had so many foes, was beset on all sides, and all of them so mighty. After all, this was the most disastrously regicidal territory his mortal foe could find, to assign him in.
He stood, and made his way out of the palace, taking note of the glances the Viziers shot his way when they thought he couldn't see. Fear, awe, respect - yes. But self-interested calculation as well, envy and the understanding that this state of affairs couldn't continue. This was no equilibrium; they were at a balancing point, and any wrong move might send the entire city tumbling into anarchy and ruin. They were snakes, these viziers, as much so as his fellow students in the Naval Academy.
Out on the streets, however, a different sentiment prevailed. Luseng was packed close to bursting, near twenty times over its normal carrying capacity in terms of population. Squalor and idleness permeated the realm, but none of that held purchase where he walked. The people had taken to him with a fanatical zeal that was both reassuring and bewildering. Reassuring, because it meant he could take to the streets even if official sanction attempted to lay him low. Bewildering, because he knew he wasn't typically a likable person. He'd made few speeches and cultivated few true allies, but the common man seemed to care only that he'd been a scourge against their enemies.
"King Sesus! King Sesus!" A group of refugees perked up as he approached, careful not to block him off, arms outstretched to brush against his armor.
"Honestly, sire, I thought we were dead when the Fae came. Truly you are a Prince of the Earth, not like those other squabblers, who sit in their forts and cower!" An old man who effusively shook his hands, eyes spirited. Ulyssian carefully surveyed the area for assassins.
"My daughter married a man in the Legions, my lord. He says you saved his life against the dead! A horde of fifty zombies, and you cut them down like butter!" A female baker, matronly, wearing a headscarf and blue apron. She pressed a loaf of bread into his arms.
"Teach me to fight!" A child ran out from under her skirts, waving a wooden sword. She hushed him swiftly, voice low and scolding.
"Dragons bless you, my lord..."
"Sire, may the Gods bless you. We are all praying for you..." Would information about him leak to Heaven, he wondered? It was all but inevitable, he supposed...
"I've named my child after you, sire. Say hello, Uly!" That deserved more than his standard noncomittal nod. He patted the child on the head, timidly.
"Those viziers aren't troubling you, are they, my lord? We'll have them out on the street!"
"Bit shamed to admit it, sire, but my wife and kids are the breadwinners now, with that prayer program of yours. Don't suppose you intend to re-conquer all the landfarm out there? I know it's a lot to ask, but for someone like you..."
"Sire, are you married? Do you have a girlfriend..."
"Thank you, Sesus Ulyssian. Thank the Dragons for you..." A sobbing man, gaunt and twisted over, who refused to explain himself.
"My lord, you deserve better. When're you gonna kill that Luwao prick? He deserves the sword. The sword, I say! I'd do it myself, I would..."
"Here." An outstretched hand, small and chubby. In it were coins of bronze and copper. A child with dirt-stained cheeks. "Daddy says you're low on money, but you saved us. So, um, I thought we should help."
"You needn't worry about that, little one," Ulyssian replied. "Thank you, but the money's yours. Your father wouldn't want you to be giving it out to strangers. That's unwise."
"You're not a stranger," the child protested. "You're the King!"
Had he... had he truly forgotten, what it was like to rule? Was there so little of Odyssial left? Or had Odyssial simply never, never seen his people on a level such as this? More than a mere burden, the people were, could be, a source of strength. As they drew strength from him, he could from them. Together.
Foolishness. Odyssial was no ivory tower savant, incapable of accurately modeling people with only theoretical information. And the acclaim of the masses rarely lasted long. They were fickle, and would abandon him when his need was direst. That he knew well. It was the nature of men, the nature of power. To grow attached to them, was only to expose them to those who would attack him through them. Not that they were especially safe otherwise, not here.
He couldn't even protect his own secrets as a Solar Exalt. He wasn't even confident he could secure this place for his friends, not with himself so weak still. How could he protect... all of them?
[ ] He could try - And he would try earnestly, but not to the degree that he would sacrifice all for it. This was not the ambition that burned in his being, and not every impossible task could be confronted so openly.
[ ] He could find a way - He could stop mooning about like his mortal self never would have, shut up, and find a way. Little is beyond his ingenuity and skill, and if he is to reign, he will not content himself with merely reigning 'well' compared to others. He is Odyssial, and they are his - adopted - peoples. Nothing more needs to be said.
[ ] Base Sentimentality - The crowd is capricious. Men are easy to rise in their esteem, easier to slander and defame. He will not alter how he acts to the common people, and deny them overmuch purchase in his heart. To do otherwise is folly unfitting of Odyssial. He will not be cruel, nor will he be colder than usual, nor will he particularly neglect them. But he has a mission, a goal, and a purpose already. He will not turn from for acclaim so fleeting as this. Today's conquering hero is tomorrow's despised tyrant. Every man thinks he can do better than the king. Well, he cares not what they think.
---
Later, when he'd made his way down to the docks, Talomar caught sight of him and raised a hand in greeting.
"Mornin', guvn'r," the Dragonlord said, chewing heavily on a croissant.
Ulyssian handed him the loaf of bread, which he took gladly. "Thanks, guvn'r! This is good stuff, this. Florent's Bakery, right? They give you another loaf?"
"It may be indirect advertisement for them," Ulyssian said cynically. "Why are you calling me guvn'r?"
Talomar blinked, somewhat embarrassed. "Er, ah. It seemed like the thing to do, sir. What with everyone calling you king and stuff. It's sort of the style among the young kids these days, and I thought, well, why not try it myself?"
"I see," Ulyssian said. "Has the ship come in yet?"
"Yup." Talomar nodded, pointing to the Realm cutter that was loading full barrels of obels into its hull. Orders from Home Office would no doubt arrive from its captain soon.
"I'm anticipating bad news," Odyssial said, as they walked through the maze of crates towards the cutter.
He was right.
---
Taxes up ten percent across the board. Orders to aggressively promote the Immaculate Philosophy, to strike immediately at all the Realm's enemies in the region, to build up Luseng's economy... a contradictory and ill-formed mess. Calculated to ensure he would fail in at least one area, whether from overwork or a simple lack of desire to try.
Well. Nothing unexpected.
[ ] Grin and Bear It - If this is the extent to which Anys is willing to interfere with you, then so be it. You will not escalate things with her, not at this time, not when you are still weak. She is giving you time, and even these ludicrous orders can be worked around. If you are made to fail publicly, so what? That is a matter of months from now, before it can even be confirmed, much less disseminated around the Realm. In the meantime, you'll continue to build your power base unmolested, save for the nuisance of higher taxes. The coffers of Luseng run low indeed, but you've a few ideas to fix that. Markets are systems like any other, and they come easily to you now. You might even call your talents prophetic...
[ ] Subversion - If Anys wants to play the game, she'll find her enemy a more than capable foe. Cut back on administrative duties and take out loans: It's time to show her just how obstructive a Solar strategist can be. Choke the life out of her bureaucracy, mire its every action in corruption, vested interests, and red tape. The Magistracies, the only officially sanctioned checks on House power, are already weakened to the point of uselessness. Conflict and division shall rain upon the Realm, and its Immaculate Philosophy will face a hundred thousand tiny heresies. It'll be a cold day in Malfeas before she gets another cutter out to you, much less one with orders like these.
[ ] Naval Assistance - Ask Zao to exert some influence on your behalf. Ensure that this ship's trip back is severely delayed due to naval operations of utmost secrecy along its route, and that the next one to arrive will takes weeks, if not months, of utterly necessary detours. Of course, this does not solve the problem at the root and may make things difficult for Zao, but it will direct heat against him, instead of you.
[ ] Write-In
Also, you received a one-time Limit vented from your interactions with the common folk.
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- Location
- Fabulously Rainbow Ireland
[X] Grin and Bear It - If this is the extent to which Anys is willing to interfere with you, then so be it. You will not escalate things with her, not at this time, not when you are still weak. She is giving you time, and even these ludicrous orders can be worked around. If you are made to fail publicly, so what? That is a matter of months from now, before it can even be confirmed, much less disseminated around the Realm. In the meantime, you'll continue to build your power base unmolested, save for the nuisance of higher taxes. The coffers of Luseng run low indeed, but you've a few ideas to fix that. Markets are systems like any other, and they come easily to you now. You might even call your talents prophetic...
[X] He could find a way - He could stop mooning about like his mortal self never would have, shut up, and find a way. Little is beyond his ingenuity and skill, and if he is to reign, he will not content himself with merely reigning 'well' compared to others. He is Odyssial, and they are his - adopted - peoples. Nothing more needs to be said
[X] He could find a way - He could stop mooning about like his mortal self never would have, shut up, and find a way. Little is beyond his ingenuity and skill, and if he is to reign, he will not content himself with merely reigning 'well' compared to others. He is Odyssial, and they are his - adopted - peoples. Nothing more needs to be said
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[X] Naval Assistance - Ask Zao to exert some influence on your behalf. Ensure that this ship's trip back is severely delayed due to naval operations of utmost secrecy along its route, and that the next one to arrive will takes weeks, if not months, of utterly necessary detours. Of course, this does not solve the problem at the root and may make things difficult for Zao, but it will direct heat against him, instead of you.
[X] He could try - And he would try earnestly, but not to the degree that he would sacrifice all for it. This was not the ambition that burned in his being, and not every impossible task could be confronted so openly.
[X] He could try - And he would try earnestly, but not to the degree that he would sacrifice all for it. This was not the ambition that burned in his being, and not every impossible task could be confronted so openly.
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Alectai
Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion
Yayyy!
That update made me smile so much. It's probably one of my favorite updates over the course of the Entire Ulyssian Saga, it's just so nice to actually have a chance to look at your deeds and see them pronounced as Good, not out of hubris or arrogance, but out of the sincere feelings of those you've protected.
That update made me smile so much. It's probably one of my favorite updates over the course of the Entire Ulyssian Saga, it's just so nice to actually have a chance to look at your deeds and see them pronounced as Good, not out of hubris or arrogance, but out of the sincere feelings of those you've protected.
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[X] Base Sentimentality
It's either this or A Way.
[X] Subversion
I am tempted by double Red, though.
It's either this or A Way.
[X] Subversion
I am tempted by double Red, though.
ThatGazzer
Minds Eye Bind
- Location
- PNW
- Pronouns
- They/Them
[X] Subversion - If Anys wants to play the game, she'll find her enemy a more than capable foe. Cut back on administrative duties and take out loans: It's time to show her just how obstructive a Solar strategist can be. Choke the life out of her bureaucracy, mire its every action in corruption, vested interests, and red tape. The Magistracies, the only officially sanctioned checks on House power, are already weakened to the point of uselessness. Conflict and division shall rain upon the Realm, and its Immaculate Philosophy will face a hundred thousand tiny heresies. It'll be a cold day in Malfeas before she gets another cutter out to you, much less one with orders like these.
[X] He could find a way - He could stop mooning about like his mortal self never would have, shut up, and find a way. Little is beyond his ingenuity and skill, and if he is to reign, he will not content himself with merely reigning 'well' compared to others. He is Odyssial, and they are his - adopted - peoples. Nothing more needs to be said
[X] He could find a way - He could stop mooning about like his mortal self never would have, shut up, and find a way. Little is beyond his ingenuity and skill, and if he is to reign, he will not content himself with merely reigning 'well' compared to others. He is Odyssial, and they are his - adopted - peoples. Nothing more needs to be said
Rihaku
The Internet
Indeed, Ulyssian doesn't get out much among the common people, but you can be well-assured that his spectacular triumphs are being heralded among them. After so long under the odious threat of the Abyssals and Fae, they're beginning to have hope again, hope in the sheer impossible invincible savior that has descended upon Luseng.
But can a king rule, by salvation alone? For a time, perhaps...
You intend to do that in Grin and Bear it, it's just they're so numerous and contradictory that there's no way a DB lawyer wouldn't be able to find fault.
You guys are aware that Subversion will wreck the Realm, right? You're majorly hastening the Realm Civil War and weakening Creation as a whole, in order to stall Anys from messing with you.
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Alectai
Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion
[X] He could find a way - He could stop mooning about like his mortal self never would have, shut up, and find a way. Little is beyond his ingenuity and skill, and if he is to reign, he will not content himself with merely reigning 'well' compared to others. He is Odyssial, and they are his - adopted - peoples. Nothing more needs to be said
Haven't decided on policy yet. But we need to do what Odyssial never did, and Save Everybody we Can
Haven't decided on policy yet. But we need to do what Odyssial never did, and Save Everybody we Can
Well. That hit me right in the feels. I'm tempted to go with finding a way, against my better judgment...
Rihaku
The Internet
I will note that Ulyssian-level trying as far as saving their lives might result in outcomes they would not personally prefer, or at least instinctively recoil from. It is also extremely time, effort, and labour-intensive for you, of course. Would have been easier with The Seeds on your side. He could try might well be the kinder path.
Feel the power of the Red Option flow through you...
ThatGazzer
Minds Eye Bind
- Location
- PNW
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Yup, and if all goes to plan we'll have the only true bastion of stability.
All will flock to He Who Was Odyssial.
All will swear fealty, or rot away with the rest of the Realm.
(Crack of Thunder, bond villain laugh, ect, goes here)
Rihaku
The Internet
Talomar's taking-up of the expression " guvn'r " seems to have affected a lot of people...
Oh look another reminder about how if Seeds we're still alive he could help our current situation. Gah so disappointed.