Exemplary Service - A Quest of Mortal & Immortal Politics
- Thread starter Morrowlark
- Start date
- Mature Fantasy
Euclaid Galieane
Addicted to Words
- Location
- Inside a Book
[X] Taz'Arrm, Helm of the Emperor
[X] Order
[X] Order
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Taz'Arrm, Helm of the Emperor
[X] Legacy
[X] Legacy
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Hdar-Fye, the Necropolis
[X] Legacy
[X] Legacy
Morrowlark
You've lost something, haven't you?
This extended vote brought to you by recovering from a tooth extraction.
Take care of your teeth y'all.
Take care of your teeth y'all.
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Taz'Arrm, Helm of the Emperor
[X] Legacy
[X] Legacy
Morrowlark
You've lost something, haven't you?
Alright. I've eaten. I can see exactly one of every object that's supposed to be there. The pain meds are working. A friend spotted me for nicotine patches since I can't smoke. My vile powers are returned to me.
One hour or less. I make no promises about just getting fucking impatient.
One hour or less. I make no promises about just getting fucking impatient.
Morrowlark
You've lost something, haven't you?
Fuck it close enough.
Where will we be raising Hell?
Where will we be raising Hell?
Morrowlark
You've lost something, haven't you?
Okay so maybe I actually need to sleep instead of finishing this immediately.
But by god
The moment I have caffeine
We begin
But by god
The moment I have caffeine
We begin
Turn 1 - Arrival
New
Morrowlark
You've lost something, haven't you?
It's time, it's time, it's finally time. You have to carefully counsel yourself against rushing as your cover identity is explained to you; you will be taking on the now-ended life of one Lady-Captain Jesca of House Niir. Niir is a big fish in the small pond of Hdar-Fye, exerting quite a bit of control over the local military by main force of, let's check your notes, having more children than a sunfish, but Jesca was never quite what you'd call an achiever. Though she was owed title and, technically, command, she spent her time as a shut-in, managing a business that handles messages for the Academy of Strife Unending, Hdar-Fye's school of necromancy. This suits you just fine. Your imps can hide amongst her messenger birds, people don't really know her socially, and her House isn't likely to interfere until you've had enough success to control the conversation. Honestly, this is suspiciously thoughtful of Furcas.
You make a mental note that you may be getting set up to fail so that Furcas can burn you and shake enemies within the infernal hierarchy. It's nothing personal. But if you're to succeed, you should be aware.
The relative isolation of Lady-Captain Jesca made it easy to insert infernal agents into her staff, who will be assisting you with acquiring the necessary resources to see to your work. Further acquisition of resources will be done in the field, as usual. Getting them from others in the Nine Hells will require a certain amount of favor-trading, browbeating, and wheedling, and to do any of that you need results to show first. Part of your briefing warns you that there will be taxes due every year as part of your cover; a cheeky editorial note describes these as 'an excellent incentive for your inevitable success', and is signed Greshil. Ah, Greshil. That osyluth prick does know how to make you smile, which is dangerous to your health considering that he is, again, a fucking bone devil.
You really need to see if he's single again.
A thorough look at Lady-Captain Jesca is provided for you, as a drawing would rather defeat the point. She's tall, for a hobgoblin, a fact that has likely contributed to her selection; short-cut dark hair, a certain scholarly mien, a strangely shaped scar around her left eye whose cause you cannot quite place. Perfecting your major image of her features while she watches is likely quite stressful for her, but to be quite honest she'll forget it as soon as she gets thrown into the pits to become a lemure. Possession may not be nine-tenths of the law, but conquest is certainly a significant part of Baator's legal system. Sucks to suck, mortal.
You are transported at night, into the former Lady-Captain's bedroom, a relatively utilitarian affair where the utility maximized above all else appears to have been amateur magical study. With the house asleep, you spend some time going over her tomes and notes; it appears that Jesca was far from unintelligent, and yet was struggling in her studies. A mismatch between her learning style and her culture's teaching style? Perhaps. You might want to study more closely to learn more, and to brush up on your own magical fundamentals. Pretending to be a wizard is so fucking annoying that if you're going to be here anyway it might be easier to just become one.
Locals simply call this place the Coop, but your new home's official name is Manor Hirgla, an obscure pun in the local language that means both 'where birds live' and 'where insane people live'. Tasteless and cruel, so, perfect. It has three stories, a cellar, and a tower that goes up to the roosts for Jesca's messenger crows; you direct your imps there for now, to await orders, and ascend to the roof to get a look at your target. Even this late at night the temperature is high - no Avernus, but high - and the air is thick with moisture.
Hdar-Fye is a blasted wasteland of a city, on a blasted wasteland of a plataeu, in a blasted wasteland of a culture. This is your first impression. Further inspection is not improving it in your estimation. Nestled on the edge of the plataeu itself, Hdar-Fye guards a road painstakingly carved down to the jungle, where you can see the firelights of forward positions in the eternal war with the trees as an entire dedicated army is spent simply to attempt to feed one city's hunger for wood and spell components. The terrain is rocky; despite this, most of the buildings heavily incorporate a blackened, pitted iron rather than using locally quarried stone; you can sense a fell power within the iron, dormant - nearly useless - and yet omnipresent, which gives Hdar-Fye the impression of a jagged growth of metal which is rising from the earth in three tiers. At the top will be the Prince, the Academy, and whatever nobles are currently in the good graces of both (merely being in the good graces of either sticks you in the second tier). Your new home base is in the lowest tier, and it's a long walk up there.
Perfect.
There is a tang of misery in the air that you recognize. Even this late at night, slaves roam the streets, shuffling and trying not to make eye contact with patrols of soldiers. Most are branded; even more have had some part of their body cut off or removed. You frown as you realize the majority of the ones you're seeing are other goblinoids, goblins and bugbears in particular, and make a mental note that the system of racial supremacy here seems to not have built a pan-goblin coalition. Another lever.
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
Let's get to work.
Current Strategic Resources
Supply: 5 (+1 at the end of this turn); taxes due at the end of Turn 4.
Actions: 3
Imp Actions: 1
Infernal Agents: Providing +1 Supply at the end of each turn
Personal Actions
Sometimes you just have to handle certain things yourself.
[ ] Establish a Contingency (2 Supply, non-action)
[ ] Introduce yourself to your infernal agents (1 action, unlocks Agent Actions)
[ ] Study Lady-Captain Jesca's library (1 action)
[ ] Explore your new headquarters (1 action)
[ ] Scout the necropolis (1 action)
[ ] Meet your household slaves and take their measure (1 action, unlocks further actions)
[ ] Contact Mellifleur, the Lord of the Last Shroud (1 action, unlocks Cult Founding)
[ ] Review Lady-Captain Jesca's duties to the Academy (1 action, unlocks Academic Actions)
[ ] Find out what personal training is available in this city (1 action, unlocks Training Actions)
Imp Actions
Idle hands do not, in fact, do the devil's work. Your cohort of imps can take 1 unsupervised action per turn, requiring no roll (and therefore not risking consequences for failure, nor bonuses for exceptional success). Further Imp Actions can be taken under your supervision; these typically roll Delegation and spend actions from your pool.
[ ] Discreetly acquire resources (1 action, +1 Supply next turn)
[ ] Intercept and copy mail (1 action, +1 Leverage next turn)
[ ] Take the temperature of the city's culture (1 action, requires interpretation on your part)
[ ] Scout out other extraplanar influences (1 action)
[ ] Study the labor camps at the bottom of the road (1 action)
Infernal Actions
Hell is other people.
[ ] Desecrate your headquarters (2 Supply, 1 action; bonuses to Battle, Infiltration, and Thaumaturgy in your headquarters; pre-requisite to open a portal to Hell)
You make a mental note that you may be getting set up to fail so that Furcas can burn you and shake enemies within the infernal hierarchy. It's nothing personal. But if you're to succeed, you should be aware.
The relative isolation of Lady-Captain Jesca made it easy to insert infernal agents into her staff, who will be assisting you with acquiring the necessary resources to see to your work. Further acquisition of resources will be done in the field, as usual. Getting them from others in the Nine Hells will require a certain amount of favor-trading, browbeating, and wheedling, and to do any of that you need results to show first. Part of your briefing warns you that there will be taxes due every year as part of your cover; a cheeky editorial note describes these as 'an excellent incentive for your inevitable success', and is signed Greshil. Ah, Greshil. That osyluth prick does know how to make you smile, which is dangerous to your health considering that he is, again, a fucking bone devil.
You really need to see if he's single again.
A thorough look at Lady-Captain Jesca is provided for you, as a drawing would rather defeat the point. She's tall, for a hobgoblin, a fact that has likely contributed to her selection; short-cut dark hair, a certain scholarly mien, a strangely shaped scar around her left eye whose cause you cannot quite place. Perfecting your major image of her features while she watches is likely quite stressful for her, but to be quite honest she'll forget it as soon as she gets thrown into the pits to become a lemure. Possession may not be nine-tenths of the law, but conquest is certainly a significant part of Baator's legal system. Sucks to suck, mortal.
You are transported at night, into the former Lady-Captain's bedroom, a relatively utilitarian affair where the utility maximized above all else appears to have been amateur magical study. With the house asleep, you spend some time going over her tomes and notes; it appears that Jesca was far from unintelligent, and yet was struggling in her studies. A mismatch between her learning style and her culture's teaching style? Perhaps. You might want to study more closely to learn more, and to brush up on your own magical fundamentals. Pretending to be a wizard is so fucking annoying that if you're going to be here anyway it might be easier to just become one.
Locals simply call this place the Coop, but your new home's official name is Manor Hirgla, an obscure pun in the local language that means both 'where birds live' and 'where insane people live'. Tasteless and cruel, so, perfect. It has three stories, a cellar, and a tower that goes up to the roosts for Jesca's messenger crows; you direct your imps there for now, to await orders, and ascend to the roof to get a look at your target. Even this late at night the temperature is high - no Avernus, but high - and the air is thick with moisture.
Hdar-Fye is a blasted wasteland of a city, on a blasted wasteland of a plataeu, in a blasted wasteland of a culture. This is your first impression. Further inspection is not improving it in your estimation. Nestled on the edge of the plataeu itself, Hdar-Fye guards a road painstakingly carved down to the jungle, where you can see the firelights of forward positions in the eternal war with the trees as an entire dedicated army is spent simply to attempt to feed one city's hunger for wood and spell components. The terrain is rocky; despite this, most of the buildings heavily incorporate a blackened, pitted iron rather than using locally quarried stone; you can sense a fell power within the iron, dormant - nearly useless - and yet omnipresent, which gives Hdar-Fye the impression of a jagged growth of metal which is rising from the earth in three tiers. At the top will be the Prince, the Academy, and whatever nobles are currently in the good graces of both (merely being in the good graces of either sticks you in the second tier). Your new home base is in the lowest tier, and it's a long walk up there.
Perfect.
There is a tang of misery in the air that you recognize. Even this late at night, slaves roam the streets, shuffling and trying not to make eye contact with patrols of soldiers. Most are branded; even more have had some part of their body cut off or removed. You frown as you realize the majority of the ones you're seeing are other goblinoids, goblins and bugbears in particular, and make a mental note that the system of racial supremacy here seems to not have built a pan-goblin coalition. Another lever.
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
Let's get to work.
Standard turns take place over the course of four months. During each turn, you have access to three actions; your subordinates may or may not have actions they can take outside of this pool. If a chosen action needs a personal touch, that's an Operation, during which we'll zoom in for combat, infiltration, social manipulation, and the like. If something unexpected happens and you have to deal with it, that's a Crisis, which is similar except you don't get fucking prep time. One must try to be ready for emergencies.
Some actions cost supply, an abstract measure of your access to money, necessary spell components, expendable dupes, equipment, and other necessities. Until you change the situation, you owe 4 supply in taxes at the end of every 4 turns. Great success or wealth may increase these taxes until you get into a position where you can exempt yourself from them.
Rolls during turns will be made by you, the players. I'll call for rolls after actions are selected; this means you might not know for sure what, if any, rolls are necessary, though context clues might help.
Some actions cost supply, an abstract measure of your access to money, necessary spell components, expendable dupes, equipment, and other necessities. Until you change the situation, you owe 4 supply in taxes at the end of every 4 turns. Great success or wealth may increase these taxes until you get into a position where you can exempt yourself from them.
Rolls during turns will be made by you, the players. I'll call for rolls after actions are selected; this means you might not know for sure what, if any, rolls are necessary, though context clues might help.
Current Strategic Resources
Supply: 5 (+1 at the end of this turn); taxes due at the end of Turn 4.
Actions: 3
Imp Actions: 1
Infernal Agents: Providing +1 Supply at the end of each turn
Personal Actions
Sometimes you just have to handle certain things yourself.
[ ] Establish a Contingency (2 Supply, non-action)
[ ] Introduce yourself to your infernal agents (1 action, unlocks Agent Actions)
[ ] Study Lady-Captain Jesca's library (1 action)
[ ] Explore your new headquarters (1 action)
[ ] Scout the necropolis (1 action)
[ ] Meet your household slaves and take their measure (1 action, unlocks further actions)
[ ] Contact Mellifleur, the Lord of the Last Shroud (1 action, unlocks Cult Founding)
[ ] Review Lady-Captain Jesca's duties to the Academy (1 action, unlocks Academic Actions)
[ ] Find out what personal training is available in this city (1 action, unlocks Training Actions)
Imp Actions
Idle hands do not, in fact, do the devil's work. Your cohort of imps can take 1 unsupervised action per turn, requiring no roll (and therefore not risking consequences for failure, nor bonuses for exceptional success). Further Imp Actions can be taken under your supervision; these typically roll Delegation and spend actions from your pool.
[ ] Discreetly acquire resources (1 action, +1 Supply next turn)
[ ] Intercept and copy mail (1 action, +1 Leverage next turn)
[ ] Take the temperature of the city's culture (1 action, requires interpretation on your part)
[ ] Scout out other extraplanar influences (1 action)
[ ] Study the labor camps at the bottom of the road (1 action)
Infernal Actions
Hell is other people.
[ ] Desecrate your headquarters (2 Supply, 1 action; bonuses to Battle, Infiltration, and Thaumaturgy in your headquarters; pre-requisite to open a portal to Hell)
Exandria's other problems will not follow your schedule. Acquire power, influence, resources, and forces to assist in preventing someone else from ending this world. Spread damnation upon the incompetent and wicked so that you can peddle it to the righteous.
Voting will be in plan format.
Glory to the Lord Below.
Voting will be in plan format.
Glory to the Lord Below.
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[X] The Accelerated Beachhead
-[X] Personal Actions
--[X] Introduce yourself to your infernal agents
--[X] Meet your household slaves and take their measure
--[X] Contact Mellifleur, the Lord of the Last Shroud
--[X] Establish a Contingency
-[X] Imp Actions
--[X] Take the temperature of the city's culture
This is going to be spicy. By my count, the above uses three actions and two resources, leaving us to save three resources for later. The theme is to get as many balls rolling as possible as early as possible, to spread influence and unlock action routes, and try to increase what we have turn by turn.
Introduce ourselves to both sets of servants so that we can turbo-boost the action economy and get the books into our delegation powers, start up a cult to get THAT rolling. Imps get the lay of the land so that we can speed up expansion and influence. The Lord of Liches will be useful to us both as an ally and a patsy if he screws up later, will be dedicating Imps to cleric scouting later.
The above didn't use much in the way of resources, so add the free-action Contingency
-[X] Personal Actions
--[X] Introduce yourself to your infernal agents
--[X] Meet your household slaves and take their measure
--[X] Contact Mellifleur, the Lord of the Last Shroud
--[X] Establish a Contingency
-[X] Imp Actions
--[X] Take the temperature of the city's culture
This is going to be spicy. By my count, the above uses three actions and two resources, leaving us to save three resources for later. The theme is to get as many balls rolling as possible as early as possible, to spread influence and unlock action routes, and try to increase what we have turn by turn.
Introduce ourselves to both sets of servants so that we can turbo-boost the action economy and get the books into our delegation powers, start up a cult to get THAT rolling. Imps get the lay of the land so that we can speed up expansion and influence. The Lord of Liches will be useful to us both as an ally and a patsy if he screws up later, will be dedicating Imps to cleric scouting later.
The above didn't use much in the way of resources, so add the free-action Contingency
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- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] The Accelerated Beachhead
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] The Accelerated Beachhead
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] The Accelerated Beachhead
[X] The Accelerated Beachhead
Me: comes back to thread to check progress
Also me: cheering like I just landed a Moon Mission at so many people agreeing with my thoughts
Also me: cheering like I just landed a Moon Mission at so many people agreeing with my thoughts
Morrowlark
You've lost something, haven't you?
Alright.
One hour warning.
One hour warning.
SleepyCaterpilar
Just a Rapariga
[X] The Accelerated Beachhead
Morrowlark
You've lost something, haven't you?
Well then. Writing may be a bit delayed, there's something I need to take care of, but the plan is quite clear.
Morrowlark
You've lost something, haven't you?
Okay so the thing I had to do took awhile. This is first on my docket for things to do in the morning after I wake up; however, at this time I need to go to bed or the person Mister Rogers knows I can be is gonna go on vacation.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Would now be a good time to admit that I read The Screwtape Letters in high school for my English class?
Morrowlark
You've lost something, haven't you?
It's certainly not a bad time. Has it given you some thoughts on the proceedings?
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Well it's not given me any good ideas given that Wormwood fails in the book. I just figured it would be cute/fun to note.
Turn 1 Results & Late Roll
New
Morrowlark
You've lost something, haven't you?
"Was I forgetting something," I thought to myself last night with half this update written. "Surely not," I told myself, as I went to a fitful sleep. Open the doc this morning and realize I could/should have called for rolls and didn't like a fucking clown. I am a competent adult with more than 20 years of gamemastering experience, I promise.
MID-WRITING EDIT: If the EEPY could LEAVE ME IN PEACE and LET ME WRITE that would be great, I say, as I heal from a tooth extraction.
Also
WINNING VOTE
[X] The Accelerated Beachhead
-[X] Personal Actions
--[X] Introduce yourself to your infernal agents
--[X] Meet your household slaves and take their measure
--[X] Contact Mellifleur, the Lord of the Last Shroud
--[X] Establish a Contingency
-[X] Imp Actions
--[X] Take the temperature of the city's culture
MID-WRITING EDIT: If the EEPY could LEAVE ME IN PEACE and LET ME WRITE that would be great, I say, as I heal from a tooth extraction.
Also
WINNING VOTE
[X] The Accelerated Beachhead
-[X] Personal Actions
--[X] Introduce yourself to your infernal agents
--[X] Meet your household slaves and take their measure
--[X] Contact Mellifleur, the Lord of the Last Shroud
--[X] Establish a Contingency
-[X] Imp Actions
--[X] Take the temperature of the city's culture
No use in keeping your imps idle. You get them roused and double-check their chosen disguises, then send them out to investigate the local culture. You want to know who talks about what and why. It's about to be a great deal of information, but you'll have the luxury of sorting through it at your leisure; your cohort produces written reports, and they know what will happen if they fucking don't. They'll be awhile, which will give you time to take care of other business.
First on the docket: it's time to meet your agents. You have a list of names, not many, but all of them possessed of convenient licenses and privileges that let them legally and unsuspiciously generate money. You're looking forward to -
Why are there only four motherfuckers on this list.
This question consumes a solid week of your thoughts during which you do not leave your room and open the door only to take trays of food left by the house slaves. It is settling in just how bad the expenses-versus-income is in this house that you have four motherfuckers who are not slaves. Four motherfuckers. This would be an unbelievable bounty of infernal cultists if you were in fucking Emon but THE IRON AUTHORITY? With no Maglubiyet out here managing the goblinoids for some reason? Four? Four? You end up double and triple-checking your books and realize, to your fucking horror, that even fitting these four dudes into the staff has involved a certain amount of tax fraud. By the rod of Asmodeus this is dire. It's absurd. You catch yourself thinking about sending a letter for more funding and just manage to stop yourself from making what would, objectively, be a very stupid decision right now. Okay Nilaisha. Just enter your meditation, and think. Ignore how keenly you're feeling not having a pit fiend's level of intelligence and cunning right now; you're a smart girl, and you've been set up for success. What does this change about the plan?
...Nothing.
Okay.
So on the eighth day you put on your illusions, go out into the house, and inform your majordomo - the first of your infernal agents, a goblin named Nakta - that you are taking a meeting with herself and the other three this evening, just after dinner, in your tower study. Then you go to the tower study so you can work on appearing as ominous and refined as possible. The room is a fucking disaster and also, why in Mammon's gold-plated asscrack is there a separate study when Jesca's room is already a study? You have to tidy up the books, rearrange the candles, dodge your own slaves so you can haul up some additional chairs, and even then there's downsides. The room is drafty. The windows are in the wrong spots to catch sunlight or moonlight. There is a feral cat with six kittens nesting inside a chest that doesn't so much have a 'mousehole' as it does 'a royal road for His Majesty, the Rodent King, Praise His Name'. After some thought, you order the cats fed. They might be useful, and if they are not useful directly they will be useful to you as a form of constant practice in holding something weak within your power without hurting it. Also, not to put too fine a point on it, if the rest of the house is this bad you're going to either need to learn how to bend vermin to your will or get help exterminating them, and the cats are both free and already here.
They do not like you. Yet.
At last, your exactly four motherfuckers are gathered. Nakta, your majordomo, is a little green lass (why are the goblins here green? No, seriously. They're not green anywhere else. What the fuck happened on this world?) of serious disposition who addresses you solely as 'Lady-Captain' and cuts a nice figure in a forerunner to the business suit in your closet back on Avernus. Hragh (it's pronounced 'Hu-rahh') is a stocky hobgoblin boy in polished iron chain armor who bears a formal club that has been banded in the same metal, and is your 'duty officer', a title you quickly learn means he collects taxes from your tenants. So, okay, you're a landlord and you're still poor. This gets better and better. Musla, your Sergeant-at-Arms, commands your nonexistent house guard and as a result is actually in charge of the aviary. If you had to bet money, 'she' is gonna be the wrong pronoun there; you wonder if Musla knows yet and what that means to the local hobgoblins. Last, and certainly least, is the fragrant Gizail, a bugbear lass whom you mistake for a physician at first due to her thick layers of oiled leather, only to learn that she is in charge of the public garbage within your demense.
They gather nervously, and sit when you tell them to. You shut and lock the door; the curtains are already drawn over the useless windows. They gasp appropriately when you drop the illusion, revealing the full glory of your stolen celestial beauty to them. You're really going all-out for this one, concentrating to maintain a thin halo of black iron woven with chains of bone atop your perfect, flowing hair.
You take your seat and tent your fingers beneath your chin.
"Glory to the Lord Below," you begin, and they mumble something that sounds suspiciously like 'Hail the Lord of the Hells' back. Note to self, check in with a representative from the Ministry of Immortal Affairs before you somehow manage to cock this up badly enough to piss off the one man in Hell who can do whatever he wants. "I hope you understand the trust you are being extended in seeing this much. If you do your work well, you may receive the privilege of my name; other, more tangible rewards will precede this more intangible one, should you prove competent. Incompetence will receive instruction. Failure to learn will receive punishment."
There is a chorus of silent nods. Your majordomo is, interestingly, not intimidated. Fascinating; you make a mental note, and then you continue: "We will be working closely with one another. Once per week we will meet like this; when things get moving, that may become once per month. Consider me your student in your realms of expertise. Informing me of my ignorance is not a transgression against me; maintaining my ignorance if it was feasible to teach me will be. Now is the time to begin thinking about what it is you want out of this arrangement. You will find that honesty is appreciated."
Nakta makes a little 'hrm' sound, a refined clearing of the throat. "Lady-Captain, forgive your slaves; it would better enable us to serve your will if we knew your objectives."
You favor her with a smile that you know for a fact can damn, and indeed has damned, more than one human who thinks with their glands instead of their brain. "Not slaves. Employees. I don't keep or use slaves if I can avoid it; they're full of liabilities." You drop one hand, and drum your fingers on the desk. "...Short-term, we need to become financially solvent. We will require staff, soldiers, and respectability. In the medium term, I want command of this city, either de facto or both de facto and de jure."
Gizail raises her furry hand, and you acknowledge her with a nod. "Lady...what does de facto and de jure mean?"
You smile pleasantly. "De facto means 'in truth' or 'in fact', and 'de jure' is 'in law' or 'by the law'. I want to be the power behind the throne, or else I want to be princess of this city and wield the power openly. Which one has not yet been decided. Thank you for your question, Gizail."
You submit orders for financial reports by the end of the month, along with itemized lists of assets. Nakta is tasked with assisting the others as needed. At no point does Hragh speak up, and you make a note of this. Being pre-existing infernal agents suggests they have pre-existing bargains with other devils. If you are very lucky, it won't be Archdukes or anyone so grand, but luck is the rallying cry of fools, so it will pay to investigate. You don't need to be blindsided.
* * * *
The slaves are going to be more of a problem. Twelve in all, with the majority being domestic servants; some three are instead technically remanded to Gizail's authority. They are, like most domestic servants, used to being ignored; the weight of your attention, subtle as it is, spreads unease through the house. There are quiet conversations between you and individuals who will not meet your eyes, and slowly you learn the situation. The majority of your house slaves were sentenced to slavery by military tribunal, typically for 'cowardice'. Most bear the marks of the lash, though you cannot, for the life of you, find any whips or torture implements in the house (note to self, acquire some torture implements; they make for good conversation pieces even if you never use them). Your 'head chef' was a luckless human adventurer who had the misfortune of surviving the jungle, and is missing his left leg; the remainder are ordinary, if green, goblins. You cannot figure out for the life of you how they're kept in the house, until you finally resort to magical detection and realize that each and every one of them is laboring under a geas. Your blood runs cold. Someone, probably from Jesca's house, is expending a lot of money and power to keep these slaves doing something, and whatever that thing is, it's probably not following Jesca's orders.
You will need to proceed carefully. Especially if you want these to stop being slaves and start being useful. A geas only lasts for so long...this might be a problem to solve with patience. In the meantime, a light hand could go far. A harsh one might be useful in the short term, but how useful?
* * * *
About a month in, 'Jesca' announces that she is not to be disturbed, not even for meals, as she is in the midst of an experiment. Your statement about potentially lethal side effects isn't even that much of an exaggeration. Your privacy secured, you lock the door to your bedroom, in which you have slept not at all, and drop your illusions. You clutch a newborn crow in your skeletal left hand and sit, cross-legged, on the floor, and you pray. It is not a habit you have been known to keep, but it is rather more polite than sending a letter or a mephit, and the courtesy may well be appreciated by the Lord of the Last Shroud, who is often shown none.
It has been some time, Neverborn.
"Indeed it has, dread lord," you murmur politely, eyes closed. The crow grows still in your hand; not dead, no, but held, paralyzed by the touch of undeath. "I come bearing opportunity in a strange world."
It is within my sight. And yet I see it ringed by my enemies, and encased in a great shell. You see opportunity here?
"I do. You cannot make new enemies here, for those present already bear grudges. But you might make a new ally. It has been said by His Eminent Darkness that if I can produce results with your assistance, your status in the eyes of the Hells may be revisted. Further, I sit within the most prolific society of necromancers upon this world, who foolishly choose to follow the Tyrant Lord. When his faith is expunged root and branch, those arcanists will need someone to guide them."
Hrm. The lich-god Vecna is present...and yet he cleaves to old patterns. There is a space for me, this is true. What is your goal?
"Before this world may be damned, it must be preserved, dread lord. I seek an alliance with the Friend of Heroes, who undermines the wicked. And from that relationship, who knows what your role might be in the new world?" Left unspoken is the second opportunity; your failure doesn't have to drag Mellifleur down with you, if he plays his cards right. A delicate little dance, and a bold one to dance with a god, but the Lord of the Last Shroud has needs which are ultimately simple, and you trust in that simplicity.
Still, he hesitates. So you push your luck, just a little further: "Dread lord...is there a version of this where I somehow make your position any worse?"
A dry, rattling laughter fills your mind, full of genuine mirth and an ancient malice. And the Lord of the Last Shroud says to you:
I suppose we shall see, Neverborn. A blessing, once again.
Mellifleur withdraws from your mind, and you look down at your hand. The crow has gone still, and dead; it has, in fact, mummified, and you understand its use in an instant: whomsoever devours it will become a Cleric to the God of Liches, and give unto him a stake in this world. You smile to yourself, and lock it within your desk.
* * * *
I need two players to roll 1d20+3 (Wisdom Infiltration at Advantage); the higher result will be taken. This is to interpret the reports from your imps.
Additionally:
Slave Approach
[ ] The carrot
You cannot promise them their freedom. Not yet. But you can insinuate, and wheedle, and play up your financial straits. Privileges can be earned. Trust can be given. Education, perhaps, might be secured. There will be no change in your finances, but over time they will begin to trust you.
[ ] The leash
Here's the cold facts: you're broke, and Jesca spends a lot of money on these people. Meals can be cut down. Privileges can be curtailed. Contraband can be sold. +2 Supply at the start of Turn 2 and boy will you piss off all these slaves.
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- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] The carrot
First roll:
13 + 3 = 16! Pretty solid.
First roll:
13 + 3 = 16! Pretty solid.