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Fire, Ice, and the Kraken (Fate X ASOIAF, Jalter quest)
- Thread starter Mathen57
- Start date
- Crossover Fantasy
Fire, Ice, and The Kraken Quest
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- Ongoing
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Intro
Mathen57
Shotgun for a brain
- Location
- Jakarta, Indonesia
QM Note: Hey SV! Longtime lurker here with a Jalter Character quest. Creating this quest was a spur of the moment thing and so I'm new with the whole "being a QM" gig and writing stories in general; I am also not as well versed in the lore of both Fate and Ice and Fire as I would like to be, so do please temper your expectations. I'll be basing my setting in the TV Adaptation of Game of Thrones rather than the books (though I may incorporate some elements of the book to this quest if it fits), though I will also use the wiki as a source of info too. Updates will be irregular, depending on my motivation and circumstances. Anyways let's get on with this quest!
The year is 2018, and humanity faces incineration. The fate of the species now depends on a single organization, the Organization for the Preservation of Human Order, dubbed Chaldea. Through the Guardian Heroic Spirit Summoning System or "FATE", as it is called. The organization utilizes mythological and historical figures to aid them in their quest for survival. Men and Women who have left their mark in human history now come to save the present.
Their mission? To prevent a being of godly powers from rewriting human history and creating a new world over the old. He does this by inserting Holy Grails into specific instances of human history. Thus, a singularity is born, an abnormality in man's story that would lead to the incineration of the present if left unchecked.
The summoned heroic spirits, called servants, travel back in time to these instances to fetch these Holy Grails and resolve these singularities, so that mankind can see another tomorrow.
Now in the eve of their victory or their defeat, Chaldea fights one final battle to prevent extinction.
But this quest is not about Chaldea's mission to save humanity, but of one errant soul who should not be able to exist. A vengeful spirit of a woman who was not at all vengeful in life, made by a grieving monster who couldn't let go.
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You are nothing but a fake. A fictional villainess made real by the desires of a lunatic. A child-killing, sodomizing, heretical lunatic that deserved every bit of pain he received. Worst of all, it was that same lunatic who stayed close by your side till the end, only...he wasn't there till the end was he? was it a he?
Your mind's all fuzzy, somethings wrong. You try to recall your most recent memory, only to come up with nothing; remembering only the hate and regret of the distant past. The vile moments of THAT WAR from a life you've never truly lead are the only memories you can recall, and they accompany you in this hazy state. The more you try to think the lighter your head feels.
"uuggghhh"
You take a deep breath then the world around you becomes sharper, the blur in your vision gradually disappearing as if someone wiped away the fog from your glasses (are you even wearing glasses?).
The first thing you see were the stars in the sky. Were they ever so bright? So close? Shining so brilliantly that it reminds you of...of that woman. You feel your blood boil and the fire in your soul growing into a blaze. The hate drives you, ignites you, allowing the rest of your mind to be roused from a deep sleep
Your thoughts are much clearer now, and your memories are coming back to you, though only in incoherent fragments
Solomon...demon...trash heap
The synapses in your neurons finally propagate some impulse, and you feel the ground you were laying on. Its texture fills you with disgust. You feel fleshy tendrils around your exposed back, and your feet are trapped below some stone rubble. You realise that you're missing parts of your armour, making you feel naked and exposed.
"what the fuck just happened?"
You will your hands upwards only to see one rise up. A glance to your left shows that you're missing an entire arm and you began to notice the massive puddle of blood spread around your left side. You don't feel much pain, just numbness; it seems all of your senses haven't returned to working order yet. What other parts of your body are you missing? So you lift your head to discover the extent of the damage.
Immediately you feel your movement is restricted as sharp pains appeared all around your chest. Gritting your teeth, you raise your head despite it, only to see three obsidian spears jutting out of your stomach caked with your blood. Their design has a sort of familiarity to you that comes from the constant sight of it as if you've used those spears regularly.....
They're part of my noble phantasm! You realize.
But how did you get stabbed by it? Images of being shoved into the area you've cast your Noble Phantasm on by some cephalopod looking thing appears in your mind.
so that's how...
A-HAH, it's all coming back to you, Solomon, Demon Gods, and the trash heap, You're in the time temple and from what You could remember you were fighting the demon pillar Andromalus. You remember the satisfaction you felt burning its disgusting flesh in cinders.
Edmond, Shirou, Brynhildr...they were with you in that fight too. Did they leave you? Saw you as some deadweight and thought they were better off with HER.
You're starting to get irate now, but you feel something come up your throat before coughing out blood.
oh
You're dying
You're dying, and no one's here to see it
You're dying, and no one will ever mourn for you
Why did you even come here in the first place? It's not like---
BOOOOM
-- you feel a tremor in the ground you're laying on. Then a few more, before the entire world explodes. Debris begins to fall in the hundreds; this world is crumbling, falling apart, the end of a singularity. You sense a figure next to you, but you're too tired to look. The star above you brightens as your vision becomes saturated with white.
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Consciousness comes back to you like a crashing freight train. A sudden intake of breath, eyes wide open, chest heaving upwards. It's peaceful here, the only sounds present are the swaying of grass and your labored breathing. You feel whole again and flex your previously dismembered left arm. The haze from before is gone, and you can think and remember clearly. It seems that you were revived from your dying state.
The faint sounds of galloping horses and the shouts of their riders inform you that you're not alone, and where there are horse riders, there is civilization.
This land around you must be a new singularity, another deviation in humanity's past. A servant's existence cannot persist without the grail. Therefore there must be a grail in this era because why else are you still living and breathing at this moment. The Human Order Foundation is again threatened, and the Grand Order has not finished. Chaldea might come. How exciting.
You rise, pushing aside the tuft of tall grass around you. You look around only the see a sea of tall grass swaying with the wind. Each gust of wind bends the grass in a way to make it look like waves in the ocean.
You hear the sound of galloping come closer to you. You look towards to where the sound was coming from to see 2 dark specks approach you. You squint your eyes the to see horses and its riders; 2 tan half-naked men sit atop the horses, showing off their arms and torsos to the rest of the world. The one to the left is skinny but tall and darker than the other; he wields a curved sickle-like blade, a Kopesh from the looks of it, with his right arm. The other is much shorter but has more mass in his muscles and has lighter skin. He too wields the same weapon.
They'll approach you any second now, well its time to make your first impression with the natives of this era.
[] Burn them, you should be able to in your reinvigorated state
[] Ask them for directions and a general description of the area.
[] Summon your sword to your side and look at them menacingly
[] write in___
So starts my first-ever Quest!
Since this is a character-driven quest made in the same vein as Flandre's Quest, there won't be much RPG elements to it other than a few dice rolls here and there. This quest will focus mainly on Jeanne Alter's adventure in Planetos, and player decisions will determine if Jalter continues being the vengeful villain that she is or becomes the holy saint that she was. Or maybe something else? Hopefully, this quest ends with Jeanne getting the Grail and ending this "singularity," but that depends on the players now, doesn't it?
The year is 2018, and humanity faces incineration. The fate of the species now depends on a single organization, the Organization for the Preservation of Human Order, dubbed Chaldea. Through the Guardian Heroic Spirit Summoning System or "FATE", as it is called. The organization utilizes mythological and historical figures to aid them in their quest for survival. Men and Women who have left their mark in human history now come to save the present.
Their mission? To prevent a being of godly powers from rewriting human history and creating a new world over the old. He does this by inserting Holy Grails into specific instances of human history. Thus, a singularity is born, an abnormality in man's story that would lead to the incineration of the present if left unchecked.
The summoned heroic spirits, called servants, travel back in time to these instances to fetch these Holy Grails and resolve these singularities, so that mankind can see another tomorrow.
Now in the eve of their victory or their defeat, Chaldea fights one final battle to prevent extinction.
But this quest is not about Chaldea's mission to save humanity, but of one errant soul who should not be able to exist. A vengeful spirit of a woman who was not at all vengeful in life, made by a grieving monster who couldn't let go.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You are nothing but a fake. A fictional villainess made real by the desires of a lunatic. A child-killing, sodomizing, heretical lunatic that deserved every bit of pain he received. Worst of all, it was that same lunatic who stayed close by your side till the end, only...he wasn't there till the end was he? was it a he?
Your mind's all fuzzy, somethings wrong. You try to recall your most recent memory, only to come up with nothing; remembering only the hate and regret of the distant past. The vile moments of THAT WAR from a life you've never truly lead are the only memories you can recall, and they accompany you in this hazy state. The more you try to think the lighter your head feels.
"uuggghhh"
You take a deep breath then the world around you becomes sharper, the blur in your vision gradually disappearing as if someone wiped away the fog from your glasses (are you even wearing glasses?).
The first thing you see were the stars in the sky. Were they ever so bright? So close? Shining so brilliantly that it reminds you of...of that woman. You feel your blood boil and the fire in your soul growing into a blaze. The hate drives you, ignites you, allowing the rest of your mind to be roused from a deep sleep
Your thoughts are much clearer now, and your memories are coming back to you, though only in incoherent fragments
Solomon...demon...trash heap
The synapses in your neurons finally propagate some impulse, and you feel the ground you were laying on. Its texture fills you with disgust. You feel fleshy tendrils around your exposed back, and your feet are trapped below some stone rubble. You realise that you're missing parts of your armour, making you feel naked and exposed.
"what the fuck just happened?"
You will your hands upwards only to see one rise up. A glance to your left shows that you're missing an entire arm and you began to notice the massive puddle of blood spread around your left side. You don't feel much pain, just numbness; it seems all of your senses haven't returned to working order yet. What other parts of your body are you missing? So you lift your head to discover the extent of the damage.
Immediately you feel your movement is restricted as sharp pains appeared all around your chest. Gritting your teeth, you raise your head despite it, only to see three obsidian spears jutting out of your stomach caked with your blood. Their design has a sort of familiarity to you that comes from the constant sight of it as if you've used those spears regularly.....
They're part of my noble phantasm! You realize.
But how did you get stabbed by it? Images of being shoved into the area you've cast your Noble Phantasm on by some cephalopod looking thing appears in your mind.
so that's how...
A-HAH, it's all coming back to you, Solomon, Demon Gods, and the trash heap, You're in the time temple and from what You could remember you were fighting the demon pillar Andromalus. You remember the satisfaction you felt burning its disgusting flesh in cinders.
Edmond, Shirou, Brynhildr...they were with you in that fight too. Did they leave you? Saw you as some deadweight and thought they were better off with HER.
You're starting to get irate now, but you feel something come up your throat before coughing out blood.
oh
You're dying
You're dying, and no one's here to see it
You're dying, and no one will ever mourn for you
Why did you even come here in the first place? It's not like---
BOOOOM
-- you feel a tremor in the ground you're laying on. Then a few more, before the entire world explodes. Debris begins to fall in the hundreds; this world is crumbling, falling apart, the end of a singularity. You sense a figure next to you, but you're too tired to look. The star above you brightens as your vision becomes saturated with white.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Consciousness comes back to you like a crashing freight train. A sudden intake of breath, eyes wide open, chest heaving upwards. It's peaceful here, the only sounds present are the swaying of grass and your labored breathing. You feel whole again and flex your previously dismembered left arm. The haze from before is gone, and you can think and remember clearly. It seems that you were revived from your dying state.
The faint sounds of galloping horses and the shouts of their riders inform you that you're not alone, and where there are horse riders, there is civilization.
This land around you must be a new singularity, another deviation in humanity's past. A servant's existence cannot persist without the grail. Therefore there must be a grail in this era because why else are you still living and breathing at this moment. The Human Order Foundation is again threatened, and the Grand Order has not finished. Chaldea might come. How exciting.
You rise, pushing aside the tuft of tall grass around you. You look around only the see a sea of tall grass swaying with the wind. Each gust of wind bends the grass in a way to make it look like waves in the ocean.
You hear the sound of galloping come closer to you. You look towards to where the sound was coming from to see 2 dark specks approach you. You squint your eyes the to see horses and its riders; 2 tan half-naked men sit atop the horses, showing off their arms and torsos to the rest of the world. The one to the left is skinny but tall and darker than the other; he wields a curved sickle-like blade, a Kopesh from the looks of it, with his right arm. The other is much shorter but has more mass in his muscles and has lighter skin. He too wields the same weapon.
They'll approach you any second now, well its time to make your first impression with the natives of this era.
[] Burn them, you should be able to in your reinvigorated state
[] Ask them for directions and a general description of the area.
[] Summon your sword to your side and look at them menacingly
[] write in___
So starts my first-ever Quest!
Since this is a character-driven quest made in the same vein as Flandre's Quest, there won't be much RPG elements to it other than a few dice rolls here and there. This quest will focus mainly on Jeanne Alter's adventure in Planetos, and player decisions will determine if Jalter continues being the vengeful villain that she is or becomes the holy saint that she was. Or maybe something else? Hopefully, this quest ends with Jeanne getting the Grail and ending this "singularity," but that depends on the players now, doesn't it?
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Character Sheet
Mathen57
Shotgun for a brain
- Location
- Jakarta, Indonesia
Reserved Character Sheet post #1
Anyways, due to several peculiar events occurring not known to you, you find yourself in Essos alone and confused. Just by being a servant alone you are a being of immense power in this world, made even more so by how famous your legend is, giving you better parameters than most.
Now you are lost but you'll find your way maybe you'll find the grail and use it as a ticket out, or to summon dragons like Fafnir. What will you become in your journey in these lands full of suffering and sin, will you look past your burning hatred or will humanity's darkness validate your need to burn burn burn.
Abilities
Combat Prowess
Offense is your Forte, you're fast but you're fragile against most servants. Use your speed and whittle your enemies down with St.Catherine despite having only average skills with it. You can deal massive damage in a short period of time so don't stand still and keep moving.
When battles are looking precarious, use your lance to attack enemies from a distance. That way most servants won't be able to pressure you in a duel.
Skills
Le Grondement de la Haine
Anti-Army Noble Phantasms with two variations.
Jeanne d'arc Alter
The vengeful aspect of the holy saint made by a mad Gilles de Rais. You are Jeanne Alter, the Dragon Witch that brought France to heel, The Avenger whose hate burns eternally...and former Loli Santa?
Anyways, due to several peculiar events occurring not known to you, you find yourself in Essos alone and confused. Just by being a servant alone you are a being of immense power in this world, made even more so by how famous your legend is, giving you better parameters than most.
Now you are lost but you'll find your way maybe you'll find the grail and use it as a ticket out, or to summon dragons like Fafnir. What will you become in your journey in these lands full of suffering and sin, will you look past your burning hatred or will humanity's darkness validate your need to burn burn burn.
Abilities
Combat Prowess
Offense is your Forte, you're fast but you're fragile against most servants. Use your speed and whittle your enemies down with St.Catherine despite having only average skills with it. You can deal massive damage in a short period of time so don't stand still and keep moving.
When battles are looking precarious, use your lance to attack enemies from a distance. That way most servants won't be able to pressure you in a duel.
Skills
- Avenger B-rank : Self-Replenishment of mana. Mana generation increases during battle and surplus mana from Mana Generation can be used for initiating 1 or more Noble Phantasms.
- Memory Correction A-Rank : You will never forget your hatred and what made you the vengeful being you are today. Though that hate of yours cannot be replaced, having more wonderful memories than hateful ones can help restrain your anger. Gives you better attack on people you have a grudge on.
- Magic Resistance Rank-EX : Your ability to resist magic is immeasurable. Modern spells simply dissipate when targeted to you.
- Dragon Witch Rank-EX : You posses a unique charisma that wills Dragons ( and wyverns) into submission. Though you've never tried breaking the bond between mother and child with that skill.
- Ephemeral Dream Rank-A: You're born from the desire of an individual, a fictional interpretation of a woman from the diseased mind of that mad creator. Thus, you are a paradoxical existence, a contradiction. You exist, yet you do not, an illusion as real as reality itself, a reminder that your time alive is temporary. Gives you momentary invincibility and heightened fire damage.
- Self Modification EX-Rank: You were modeled by a madman who used the grail to invert the Saint into a Witch. You can change how you're body looks so long as you have limbs and parts to spare.
Le Grondement de la Haine
Anti-Army Noble Phantasms with two variations.
- The first variant rains down dark fiery spears to the enemy and has the potential to kill hundreds, thousands even.
- The second variant can create a trail of fire controlled by Jeanne. Once the fire finds its location it can enlarge itself and summon dark spears from the ground, similar to Kazikli Bey.
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Prologue 1-1
Mathen57
Shotgun for a brain
- Location
- Jakarta, Indonesia
Winning vote
[X] Summon your sword to your side and look at them menacingly - number of voters: 4
Fire spreads out of your hand as it forms the grip of Saint Catherine, that ceremonial sword you barely used, a weapon the other you have never swung. It was meant to just be a symbol of your authority during your days in the army, for now, it'll be used to hopefully dissuade those horseriders from any act of malice.
The riders immediately stop their tracks at the outburst of flame, seemingly startled. They regain their composure and trod their horses towards you at a much sedate pace, 'kopesh' at the ready.
As they approach you, you begin to notice several details you've missed before. The darker one to the left has several sheaths around his waist, possibly for daggers, and you notice his young features: a stubble for a beard, big eyes, and lanky arms shows that he may be around the ages of 15 to 16, barely a man. You notice that his eyes are glued to your womanly assets as you suppress a deep sigh.
The one to your right seems like the least armed of the two but has the most decoration. Gold plates are strewn around his waist, each plate depicting some sort of religious iconography you think. You're not sure, a closer look would give you a definitive answer. He has both his beard and his hair braided and has sharp eyes. Definitely the elder of the two. But your mind is still stuck on the fact that there are golden plates around his waist. Maybe they're some sort of looters who pillage villages and kidnaps women. But villages usually don't have golden plates they're too poor to afford them for decoration, no...only cities do. They're not wearing any heraldry or indication of whatever army they're apart of. Are they nomads then? Well, the only instances a nomadic horse tribe ever had the capability to sack cities was...
was either Atilla or Genghis Khan
That can't be right, they don't look like --
A grunt from the left rider interrupts your thoughts. You look at him and he is positively blushing . "sigh"
You narrow your eyes and look imperiously at him whilst getting into a high stance with your sword pointing towards the rider. Challenging him to do his worst, so he'll find out why that would be the worst mistake of his short life.
He speaks to you in askance, "Westorosi?"
Ah, he's asking where you're from though you've never heard of a "westorosi"
You reply accordingly, " les Francais"
They look at you with a blank stare then looked at each other in askance.
Well, you're not surprised.
The right rider shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head when the left rider gave him an inquisitive look.
" Kisha Jif jinak zasqa noreth vikeesi Khal Forzo, athtihar athzhokwazar ki mae." The left one said with an anticipatory tone.
You're left confused, shouldn't the grail have given you knowledge of the languages in this era?
The rider to the right speaks "Haf" his booming voice commands," Athtihar kirekosi anna mae vov. Anna lajak "
This gets a snort from the left rider, " Anna vo lajak" he points at you, "Athtihar qisi "
The rider to the right scowls, "Yeri toki rakh".
The left one jumps from his horse and twirls his Kopesh at you, cutting some of the tall grass.
well if its a fight he wants..
[] Burn him
[] Use your fist, teach him humility
[] Make it quick, use your sword.
[] Try to negotiate? write in...
[] Write in.
[X] Summon your sword to your side and look at them menacingly - number of voters: 4
Fire spreads out of your hand as it forms the grip of Saint Catherine, that ceremonial sword you barely used, a weapon the other you have never swung. It was meant to just be a symbol of your authority during your days in the army, for now, it'll be used to hopefully dissuade those horseriders from any act of malice.
The riders immediately stop their tracks at the outburst of flame, seemingly startled. They regain their composure and trod their horses towards you at a much sedate pace, 'kopesh' at the ready.
As they approach you, you begin to notice several details you've missed before. The darker one to the left has several sheaths around his waist, possibly for daggers, and you notice his young features: a stubble for a beard, big eyes, and lanky arms shows that he may be around the ages of 15 to 16, barely a man. You notice that his eyes are glued to your womanly assets as you suppress a deep sigh.
The one to your right seems like the least armed of the two but has the most decoration. Gold plates are strewn around his waist, each plate depicting some sort of religious iconography you think. You're not sure, a closer look would give you a definitive answer. He has both his beard and his hair braided and has sharp eyes. Definitely the elder of the two. But your mind is still stuck on the fact that there are golden plates around his waist. Maybe they're some sort of looters who pillage villages and kidnaps women. But villages usually don't have golden plates they're too poor to afford them for decoration, no...only cities do. They're not wearing any heraldry or indication of whatever army they're apart of. Are they nomads then? Well, the only instances a nomadic horse tribe ever had the capability to sack cities was...
was either Atilla or Genghis Khan
That can't be right, they don't look like --
A grunt from the left rider interrupts your thoughts. You look at him and he is positively blushing . "sigh"
You narrow your eyes and look imperiously at him whilst getting into a high stance with your sword pointing towards the rider. Challenging him to do his worst, so he'll find out why that would be the worst mistake of his short life.
He speaks to you in askance, "Westorosi?"
Ah, he's asking where you're from though you've never heard of a "westorosi"
You reply accordingly, " les Francais"
They look at you with a blank stare then looked at each other in askance.
Well, you're not surprised.
The right rider shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head when the left rider gave him an inquisitive look.
" Kisha Jif jinak zasqa noreth vikeesi Khal Forzo, athtihar athzhokwazar ki mae." The left one said with an anticipatory tone.
You're left confused, shouldn't the grail have given you knowledge of the languages in this era?
The rider to the right speaks "Haf" his booming voice commands," Athtihar kirekosi anna mae vov. Anna lajak "
This gets a snort from the left rider, " Anna vo lajak" he points at you, "Athtihar qisi "
The rider to the right scowls, "Yeri toki rakh".
The left one jumps from his horse and twirls his Kopesh at you, cutting some of the tall grass.
well if its a fight he wants..
[] Burn him
[] Use your fist, teach him humility
[] Make it quick, use your sword.
[] Try to negotiate? write in...
[] Write in.
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Kraken Wakes
Mathen57
Shotgun for a brain
- Location
- Jakarta, Indonesia
QM note: Tentacles and swearing sailors
Morren never wanted to die like this, in the ocean with no one to help him or hear his pleas. The waters are so cold so treacherous, he had never wanted to end up here. The Dagger was the name of the ship he was on. And it was manned by true Ironborn like he, and the Ironborn were made to rule the world's ocean. No amount of waves nor storm would've brought that ship down.
No he rationalizes, it was pulled down, by what I don't know, a whirlpool? Some whale? Or maybe even a Kraken. Shit, come to think of it, things were bloody strange after we passed Cape Kraken. Maybe it really was a Kraken, one so big its tentacles can pull a longboat under........ah shit this is fucken mad, I'm starting to sound like that old fucker Aeron, I must be losing my mind.
He keeps on swimming to where ever he thinks the shore is, keeping in mind how much stamina he has left before he gets too tired to even keep afloat.
Just my fuken luck, stranded at Blazewater-Fucking-Bay
It was supposed to be a simple mission to bring provisions and men to reinforce the garrison in Moat Cailin. They were supposed to pass the Salts Spear and into the river to Moat Cailin and It seemed to start off really well too, the men were up for a good looting, and some of the younger lads were eager to bring some Saltwives. Their captain was a good captain, he had a good head on his shoulders and knew what he was doing. Thus Morren was absolutely-fucking-sure that it was no wave that brought the Dagger down in Blazewater Bay.
Things went mad after they passed Cape Kraken. Some of the Younger crew boys started whispering - nay- babbling to themselves real fast and scratching their arms real manic-like. Then one by one crewmate after crewmate started jumping off the boat to the ocean which was mad enough, but the worse part was their silence. They would have this blank look in their eyes and stop doing what they were doing. Their bodies become completely still, like a stone statue, Their chest would stop rising after every breath and they would just...freeze. Then came the walk. The afflicted men would walk- no glide- to the edges of the boat, then plop! Into the sea again and again.
He was rowing the Dagger when it was pulled down. The boat suddenly stopped at its track despite the amount of rowing everyone did and a sudden jerk occurred. Morren was one of the luckier ones as the jerking motion the ship had pushed Morren into the sea. The moment he got up to the surface the boat was gone, no trace and no noise. He had been swimming ever since and now a bloody fog had set in.
He stops swimming as he hears the rowing of a boat near him he doesn't know where, as the mists covers his vision. He hears the commands of the captain and the faint sounds of chatter be drowned by the sound of the singing crew.
"I offer my foe to the god in the Sea,
Wielding an axe I am setting men free,
Your life or mine doesn't matter to me,
When I'm dead I will feast with my god in the sea,
What is dead, canno----"
"SOMEBODY FUCKING HELP"
The angry groans from previously singing men fill Morren with amusement, he swims closer to where the sound was coming from. He spots the ship, looking like the longship he crewed.
"Pick me up I'm Ironborn" he shouts.
What is presumably the captain stands at the edge at the side of the ship facing towards him. He shouts back.
"What, In the fuck, Has happened to your ship?"
"It was sunk"
"Sunk how?!"
"I-I...I don't know"
The captain is starting to sound irate now.
"You. Don't. Know... listen here you fucking knobhead, if I catch you lying I will personally---"
"It was suddenly pulled down sir"
"Suddenly pull-- what? have you gone mad you bloody wanker!"
Yeah... mad, that's the word he'd use for this mess of a journey. Nothing was the same after Cape Kraken and he can feel he is losing more and more of himself into anger. He knows he's becoming unhinged but he doesn't know why. The impulse to kill that bastard son of a who- captain...the impulse to kill that captain grows. Fuck it, he's tired of all this; he just wants to be back home.
"The crew's gone mad!" Morren shouts at the top of his lungs, though he isn't that far from the ship to require that sort of volume, "It's been nothing but mad, I'm probably going mad too!. Ever since we passed Cape Kraken nothing was right!", now he's getting a tad excessive, " Our boys kept murmuring to themselves and some of 'em just jumped overboard! Then the Dagger was tugged down by something big I swear! There's something big enough to bring the Dagger down and it's out there in Blazewater Bay, I saw it with my own eyes! I've been swimming way to shore this entire time so will you please let me aboard!"
There was a long pause followed by some chatter. Someone from the ship throws a rope at him, it lands next to his face splashing his face with salt water.
He grasps for the rope and is then pulled towards the ship, he hears the Captain engaging in a very animated conversation with what he assumes to be his first mate. He ignores their conversation as he gets nearer and nearer to the stern of the ship. The noises of the ship and crew slowly fade into the background as he contemplates on the mess so far.
I'm finally going home, fock Moat Cailin, fock Blazewater-focking bay, and fock Cape Kraken
Now the stern blocks his entire view and he begins to climb up. He notices that something's wrong. An eerily silence has taken place, the chatter of the crew and that of the Captain and his first mate have just disappeared.
"No...NO"
The fog has increased in intensity, he could barely see past his arms and even then he has to squint hard enough to see his wrist. He climbs and climbs faster and faster, the horror slowly building up within him. His hand grasps a railing and he pulls himself up to the deck. The fog is still heavy as ever and all he ever sees is the oppressive white mist.
"HELLO!" he calls out, " IS THERE ANYONE HERE!"
It's futile, there was no response.
Then out of nowhere, he is pushed by a sudden gust of wind and falls on his back. The wooden deck didn't give as much cushion as the water and he reels in pain.
Then to his wonder, the fog around him dissipates. He could see the entirety of the ship but the sky and the horizon is still blocked by that damn white mist.
"My my" The voice of a little girl speaks, yet it lacks the bright bubbliness that children usually sound like when they speak. This voice is emotionless, listless even.
Morren jumps up from his prone state and frantically looks around. His heart is beating fast and his eyes widen as far as any man could. The voice sounded like it came from the fog, near the bow of the ship.
"What a resilient mind you have, to resist my loss of sanity skill" The voice speaks again only that it sounds like it came from the ship's stern.
Fock me
It speaks again, sounding closer to him, " You see, I am very dearly lost here. Usually, Ş̘͖̘̬͙̣̿̈́ͥ͛͗̀ͨ̍̈̄̌͛ͬͫ̀̅̍͘͢͠ư̵̸̔̓̃̋͒҉̴̜̲̩̩͉͚͉̞̠̻̩̙̪̹̳̲̙̺ţ̶̴̖͉̲̼̮͌ͭ͐́̒̒ͪͬ́̾̀͂̿͡-̵̡̗̹͓̝̘̮̭̯͎̆̂̔͑̓̅̚̕͝T͕̳̙͖̤̹̳͙ͥ̇ͩ̎̃̔͊͗ͥ̌̆ͬ͒ͥ̚͟͝y͑̈́ͥ͊̋͋̌̅ͪ̆̉҉̸͇̥̟͘͡ͅp̷̨͇͓̖̙͈̻̥̤͔͈̖͍̱̙̲̯̑͊͒̑̇ͬ̍̈ͭ̈́ͣ͆͢ḣ̶̵̳̺͈͚̼̥̘̂̇ͩơ̱̫̪̦̤̟̽̌̿̄ͭ̌̽̓̏̒ͯ́͟ǹ̨͙̱̗̇͑ͮ͌͋̽ͩ̌̔͗̎ͥͣ̕ tells me things when I'm very lost, but strangely he doesn't know anything about this world, and the men here were very incoherent when I asked them. They babble and froth at their mouth and say useless things, things about drowned gods and deep ones. It's all very frustrating, they tell me nothing useful, I can't help it when their weak minds succumb to my presence"
There's a banging in Morren's head like he's being hit by a hammer, again and again, it throbs violently. He grasps his hair with his hands and pulls, slowly succumbing to madness. His eyes become bloodshot and he begins to bleed from his nose.
It continues " You, however, seem coherent enough to tell me of this world. What are these drowned gods? and who are these deep ones? Please do enlighten me, you would have my gratitude".
Morren collapses and falls to his knees. In his addled state, he looks up to the visage of a white-haired girl. Her blue skin stands out in the white fog, she wears a large hat with many bowties, and she holds a massive intricate key with her left hand. There's something bright on her forehead but Morren can't really concentrate that well to see what it is.
"Even if you can't tell me anything useful", She smiles ear to ear showing her sharklike teeth, " You'd just be food for my children".
The last thing Morren ever sees was a writhing mass of tentacles grasping him.
QM Note: Feedback is appreciated!
Morren never wanted to die like this, in the ocean with no one to help him or hear his pleas. The waters are so cold so treacherous, he had never wanted to end up here. The Dagger was the name of the ship he was on. And it was manned by true Ironborn like he, and the Ironborn were made to rule the world's ocean. No amount of waves nor storm would've brought that ship down.
No he rationalizes, it was pulled down, by what I don't know, a whirlpool? Some whale? Or maybe even a Kraken. Shit, come to think of it, things were bloody strange after we passed Cape Kraken. Maybe it really was a Kraken, one so big its tentacles can pull a longboat under........ah shit this is fucken mad, I'm starting to sound like that old fucker Aeron, I must be losing my mind.
He keeps on swimming to where ever he thinks the shore is, keeping in mind how much stamina he has left before he gets too tired to even keep afloat.
Just my fuken luck, stranded at Blazewater-Fucking-Bay
It was supposed to be a simple mission to bring provisions and men to reinforce the garrison in Moat Cailin. They were supposed to pass the Salts Spear and into the river to Moat Cailin and It seemed to start off really well too, the men were up for a good looting, and some of the younger lads were eager to bring some Saltwives. Their captain was a good captain, he had a good head on his shoulders and knew what he was doing. Thus Morren was absolutely-fucking-sure that it was no wave that brought the Dagger down in Blazewater Bay.
Things went mad after they passed Cape Kraken. Some of the Younger crew boys started whispering - nay- babbling to themselves real fast and scratching their arms real manic-like. Then one by one crewmate after crewmate started jumping off the boat to the ocean which was mad enough, but the worse part was their silence. They would have this blank look in their eyes and stop doing what they were doing. Their bodies become completely still, like a stone statue, Their chest would stop rising after every breath and they would just...freeze. Then came the walk. The afflicted men would walk- no glide- to the edges of the boat, then plop! Into the sea again and again.
He was rowing the Dagger when it was pulled down. The boat suddenly stopped at its track despite the amount of rowing everyone did and a sudden jerk occurred. Morren was one of the luckier ones as the jerking motion the ship had pushed Morren into the sea. The moment he got up to the surface the boat was gone, no trace and no noise. He had been swimming ever since and now a bloody fog had set in.
He stops swimming as he hears the rowing of a boat near him he doesn't know where, as the mists covers his vision. He hears the commands of the captain and the faint sounds of chatter be drowned by the sound of the singing crew.
"I offer my foe to the god in the Sea,
Wielding an axe I am setting men free,
Your life or mine doesn't matter to me,
When I'm dead I will feast with my god in the sea,
What is dead, canno----"
"SOMEBODY FUCKING HELP"
The angry groans from previously singing men fill Morren with amusement, he swims closer to where the sound was coming from. He spots the ship, looking like the longship he crewed.
"Pick me up I'm Ironborn" he shouts.
What is presumably the captain stands at the edge at the side of the ship facing towards him. He shouts back.
"What, In the fuck, Has happened to your ship?"
"It was sunk"
"Sunk how?!"
"I-I...I don't know"
The captain is starting to sound irate now.
"You. Don't. Know... listen here you fucking knobhead, if I catch you lying I will personally---"
"It was suddenly pulled down sir"
"Suddenly pull-- what? have you gone mad you bloody wanker!"
Yeah... mad, that's the word he'd use for this mess of a journey. Nothing was the same after Cape Kraken and he can feel he is losing more and more of himself into anger. He knows he's becoming unhinged but he doesn't know why. The impulse to kill that bastard son of a who- captain...the impulse to kill that captain grows. Fuck it, he's tired of all this; he just wants to be back home.
"The crew's gone mad!" Morren shouts at the top of his lungs, though he isn't that far from the ship to require that sort of volume, "It's been nothing but mad, I'm probably going mad too!. Ever since we passed Cape Kraken nothing was right!", now he's getting a tad excessive, " Our boys kept murmuring to themselves and some of 'em just jumped overboard! Then the Dagger was tugged down by something big I swear! There's something big enough to bring the Dagger down and it's out there in Blazewater Bay, I saw it with my own eyes! I've been swimming way to shore this entire time so will you please let me aboard!"
There was a long pause followed by some chatter. Someone from the ship throws a rope at him, it lands next to his face splashing his face with salt water.
He grasps for the rope and is then pulled towards the ship, he hears the Captain engaging in a very animated conversation with what he assumes to be his first mate. He ignores their conversation as he gets nearer and nearer to the stern of the ship. The noises of the ship and crew slowly fade into the background as he contemplates on the mess so far.
I'm finally going home, fock Moat Cailin, fock Blazewater-focking bay, and fock Cape Kraken
Now the stern blocks his entire view and he begins to climb up. He notices that something's wrong. An eerily silence has taken place, the chatter of the crew and that of the Captain and his first mate have just disappeared.
"No...NO"
The fog has increased in intensity, he could barely see past his arms and even then he has to squint hard enough to see his wrist. He climbs and climbs faster and faster, the horror slowly building up within him. His hand grasps a railing and he pulls himself up to the deck. The fog is still heavy as ever and all he ever sees is the oppressive white mist.
"HELLO!" he calls out, " IS THERE ANYONE HERE!"
It's futile, there was no response.
Then out of nowhere, he is pushed by a sudden gust of wind and falls on his back. The wooden deck didn't give as much cushion as the water and he reels in pain.
Then to his wonder, the fog around him dissipates. He could see the entirety of the ship but the sky and the horizon is still blocked by that damn white mist.
"My my" The voice of a little girl speaks, yet it lacks the bright bubbliness that children usually sound like when they speak. This voice is emotionless, listless even.
Morren jumps up from his prone state and frantically looks around. His heart is beating fast and his eyes widen as far as any man could. The voice sounded like it came from the fog, near the bow of the ship.
"What a resilient mind you have, to resist my loss of sanity skill" The voice speaks again only that it sounds like it came from the ship's stern.
Fock me
It speaks again, sounding closer to him, " You see, I am very dearly lost here. Usually, Ş̘͖̘̬͙̣̿̈́ͥ͛͗̀ͨ̍̈̄̌͛ͬͫ̀̅̍͘͢͠ư̵̸̔̓̃̋͒҉̴̜̲̩̩͉͚͉̞̠̻̩̙̪̹̳̲̙̺ţ̶̴̖͉̲̼̮͌ͭ͐́̒̒ͪͬ́̾̀͂̿͡-̵̡̗̹͓̝̘̮̭̯͎̆̂̔͑̓̅̚̕͝T͕̳̙͖̤̹̳͙ͥ̇ͩ̎̃̔͊͗ͥ̌̆ͬ͒ͥ̚͟͝y͑̈́ͥ͊̋͋̌̅ͪ̆̉҉̸͇̥̟͘͡ͅp̷̨͇͓̖̙͈̻̥̤͔͈̖͍̱̙̲̯̑͊͒̑̇ͬ̍̈ͭ̈́ͣ͆͢ḣ̶̵̳̺͈͚̼̥̘̂̇ͩơ̱̫̪̦̤̟̽̌̿̄ͭ̌̽̓̏̒ͯ́͟ǹ̨͙̱̗̇͑ͮ͌͋̽ͩ̌̔͗̎ͥͣ̕ tells me things when I'm very lost, but strangely he doesn't know anything about this world, and the men here were very incoherent when I asked them. They babble and froth at their mouth and say useless things, things about drowned gods and deep ones. It's all very frustrating, they tell me nothing useful, I can't help it when their weak minds succumb to my presence"
There's a banging in Morren's head like he's being hit by a hammer, again and again, it throbs violently. He grasps his hair with his hands and pulls, slowly succumbing to madness. His eyes become bloodshot and he begins to bleed from his nose.
It continues " You, however, seem coherent enough to tell me of this world. What are these drowned gods? and who are these deep ones? Please do enlighten me, you would have my gratitude".
Morren collapses and falls to his knees. In his addled state, he looks up to the visage of a white-haired girl. Her blue skin stands out in the white fog, she wears a large hat with many bowties, and she holds a massive intricate key with her left hand. There's something bright on her forehead but Morren can't really concentrate that well to see what it is.
"Even if you can't tell me anything useful", She smiles ear to ear showing her sharklike teeth, " You'd just be food for my children".
The last thing Morren ever sees was a writhing mass of tentacles grasping him.
QM Note: Feedback is appreciated!
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Prologue 1-2
Mathen57
Shotgun for a brain
- Location
- Jakarta, Indonesia
Winning Vote : Use your fist, teach him humility
You drop your sword to the ground, giving him a mocking grin whilst you get into fighting stance. Feet shoulders apart, right foot in front, and both Hands up.
The older rider speaks up seemingly chastising the younger boy, "Laz't yer tihat toki rakh? mae tihikh yer ven jin haj rakh"
Your opponent seems to get agitated, it seems your dismissal of his strength by dropping your sword is getting to him.
Good, he'll be sloppy
Then slowly he approaches you, brandishing his Kopesh and twirling it around. He's better off being a performer not a fighter. You tense your body up for an attack, and you can't help but grin.
He is only human and you're a servant, an existence that is much more powerful. You are the manifestation of a hero (albeit its twisted form) and he is but a grunt.
Men like him might be fast against other opponents but to a servant? he may as well be a snail.
His Kopesh-looking weapon slashes at you but you see it from a mile away. You've fought monsters, You've fought demons, and went toe-to-toe against great heroes; whats another grunt to you?
You duck mid-swing in an exaggerated way whilst you grin, further fueling his anger and embarrassment. He uses the momentum of his swing to go for an overhead slash hoping to slice at your head, he didn't even cut a single hair. You sidestep from his attack which catches him off guard, was I too fast for you, and he flails his Kopesh to your general direction all the while cutting off the tall grass around you.
It would've made for a good picture at least, two warriors fighting in a sea of grass at sunset, your silhouettes dancing with each other as tall grass after tall grass are cut down during the fighting. If only he was good.
You start to grow bored playing with him, your dodging and weaving have brought him to a state of utter rage now, he shouts loudly after each swing. His rage would've led to a good fight if he was a berserker, not a mundane human. You stop dodging and stand perfectly straight. You've got a good idea of how sharp his Kopesh is and you allow him to hit your arm-piece with it. The weapon hits you at the forearm but it didn't even penetrate the armour. He freezes in petrifying shock.
You know he won't understand you but you take the time to say the obvious anyway.
"You're an idiot, an overeager idiot" You bring out your most patronizing and condescending voice for him to hear, at least he'll understand that.
You can see him sweat furiously and his legs start to shake though you could see the incomprehension on his face.
"But you're young, So I'll just give you this lesson rather than kill you", you stare balefully at him, your smile and narrow eyes promising him pain. " I'm a generous teacher, but a teacher still needs to get paid. So for payment well..."
Still smiling, you grasp his Kopesh holding arm and squeeze. He screams as his grip slackens and the Kopesh falls. Then you grasp him by the neck with your armoured glove as you lift him up, up above the tall grass.
The younger rider regains his composure but just barely, in a pleading tone he speaks, "tat vo nakho anna qafat! anha ki toki qafat tiholat!"
He's probably asking you to spare his life, oh what a wuss it'll only hurt a bit.
A single gut punch shuts him up as he struggles for breath, gasping deeply for air. Eventually, he passes out as you drop him to the ground landing with a thud.
"You good fight" The baritone voice of the older rider reminds you of his existence. The elder rider looked at the passed out body of the younger one and spits at him. "He dumb boy, want please Khal Forzo with you". he points at you
huh...so they can speak broken English?
This just creates more question on what era you've appeared on but from what you're surmising, the boy wanted to give you to his tribe chief to please him and so you could bear his children? You snort derisively at that.
"Well if he isn't hopeless he'll learn his lesson"
The older rider gives you an approving look, "Hopeless die"
You chuckle and grabbed St.Catherine from the ground and held it casually.
A silence has set in between you two as the older rider eyes your black sword.
What to do...
[] Ask the man how he's learned to speak English.
[] Ask him where the nearest city is.
[] Ask the rider if you could take the boy's horse
[] Come with him to wherever he's going
[]Write in___
QM Note: Yeah Jeanne is really powerful in this world and the other 2 servants too. I don't really have much of the overarching goals for the other servants realized yet, but you won't be meeting them in a long time . Unless you go directly to Westeros of course but you've still gotta find them.
After some reflection I realize my writing can be a bit stiff and Unnecessarily wordy so Feedback is much appreciated!
You drop your sword to the ground, giving him a mocking grin whilst you get into fighting stance. Feet shoulders apart, right foot in front, and both Hands up.
The older rider speaks up seemingly chastising the younger boy, "Laz't yer tihat toki rakh? mae tihikh yer ven jin haj rakh"
Your opponent seems to get agitated, it seems your dismissal of his strength by dropping your sword is getting to him.
Good, he'll be sloppy
Then slowly he approaches you, brandishing his Kopesh and twirling it around. He's better off being a performer not a fighter. You tense your body up for an attack, and you can't help but grin.
He is only human and you're a servant, an existence that is much more powerful. You are the manifestation of a hero (albeit its twisted form) and he is but a grunt.
Men like him might be fast against other opponents but to a servant? he may as well be a snail.
His Kopesh-looking weapon slashes at you but you see it from a mile away. You've fought monsters, You've fought demons, and went toe-to-toe against great heroes; whats another grunt to you?
You duck mid-swing in an exaggerated way whilst you grin, further fueling his anger and embarrassment. He uses the momentum of his swing to go for an overhead slash hoping to slice at your head, he didn't even cut a single hair. You sidestep from his attack which catches him off guard, was I too fast for you, and he flails his Kopesh to your general direction all the while cutting off the tall grass around you.
It would've made for a good picture at least, two warriors fighting in a sea of grass at sunset, your silhouettes dancing with each other as tall grass after tall grass are cut down during the fighting. If only he was good.
You start to grow bored playing with him, your dodging and weaving have brought him to a state of utter rage now, he shouts loudly after each swing. His rage would've led to a good fight if he was a berserker, not a mundane human. You stop dodging and stand perfectly straight. You've got a good idea of how sharp his Kopesh is and you allow him to hit your arm-piece with it. The weapon hits you at the forearm but it didn't even penetrate the armour. He freezes in petrifying shock.
You know he won't understand you but you take the time to say the obvious anyway.
"You're an idiot, an overeager idiot" You bring out your most patronizing and condescending voice for him to hear, at least he'll understand that.
You can see him sweat furiously and his legs start to shake though you could see the incomprehension on his face.
"But you're young, So I'll just give you this lesson rather than kill you", you stare balefully at him, your smile and narrow eyes promising him pain. " I'm a generous teacher, but a teacher still needs to get paid. So for payment well..."
Still smiling, you grasp his Kopesh holding arm and squeeze. He screams as his grip slackens and the Kopesh falls. Then you grasp him by the neck with your armoured glove as you lift him up, up above the tall grass.
The younger rider regains his composure but just barely, in a pleading tone he speaks, "tat vo nakho anna qafat! anha ki toki qafat tiholat!"
He's probably asking you to spare his life, oh what a wuss it'll only hurt a bit.
A single gut punch shuts him up as he struggles for breath, gasping deeply for air. Eventually, he passes out as you drop him to the ground landing with a thud.
"You good fight" The baritone voice of the older rider reminds you of his existence. The elder rider looked at the passed out body of the younger one and spits at him. "He dumb boy, want please Khal Forzo with you". he points at you
huh...so they can speak broken English?
This just creates more question on what era you've appeared on but from what you're surmising, the boy wanted to give you to his tribe chief to please him and so you could bear his children? You snort derisively at that.
"Well if he isn't hopeless he'll learn his lesson"
The older rider gives you an approving look, "Hopeless die"
You chuckle and grabbed St.Catherine from the ground and held it casually.
A silence has set in between you two as the older rider eyes your black sword.
What to do...
[] Ask the man how he's learned to speak English.
[] Ask him where the nearest city is.
[] Ask the rider if you could take the boy's horse
[] Come with him to wherever he's going
[]Write in___
QM Note: Yeah Jeanne is really powerful in this world and the other 2 servants too. I don't really have much of the overarching goals for the other servants realized yet, but you won't be meeting them in a long time . Unless you go directly to Westeros of course but you've still gotta find them.
After some reflection I realize my writing can be a bit stiff and Unnecessarily wordy so Feedback is much appreciated!
Last edited:
Prologue 1-3
Mathen57
Shotgun for a brain
- Location
- Jakarta, Indonesia
QM Note: oof, this one was a doozy. Dialogue and character interactions are quite hard to do and easy to mess up.
After the trading of gestures and broken sentences, He finally realizes that you want to go with him to wherever he came from. He looks at you in silence and gives you a long pause, the wind swaying his braided beard during the setting sun. Eventually, he nods in assent and drops down off his horse to grab the young boy's body. He hefts the young boy up, supporting the unconscious kid with his shoulder before putting him at the back of his horse. The elder rider jumps up to his horse and proceeds to support the kid with his back to keep him from falling.
The young kid's horse is left vacant as you look to the elder rider in askance. He grunts and shakes his head and proceeded to bring his horse near the young kid's and grasp its reins. He now directs two horses whilst supporting the weight of a passed out kid, it paints a surreal picture to be sure but you've seen weirder.
He gently trods his horse to some direction as the young kid's horse follows, you jog up to his side as the armour at your arms and legs clink at your every step. The wind freezes you as the feeling of cold spreads throughout your body. You look down and you realize that you should probably manifest your old armour soon, either the one with or without the cape you're not sure, you just want to cover up. Maybe you should manifest that armour when you have your own privacy or maybe when he isn't looking, but even then he'd probably ask about it when he looks back at you. Speaking of manifesting, he seems to be looking just straight ahead, and whilst you have the chance you manifest a sheath for St.Catherine out of his sight and insert the holy sword there. Hopefully, he has never noticed that you didn't have a sheath with you this entire time.
You absolutely have no idea about the state of Magecraft and Magi in this era and you'd rather not flaunt your servant power right now, not until you know more. Which is a strange new feeling, different than your time in the French singularity. Back then you had an idea of who was who and what was what, and you were given the tools to bring it all down thanks to that madman. You've burned all those sycophants in Orleans, Conquered Paris in a day, and the feeling you had burning that damn bishop...Oh yes! His screams still haunt your dreams in the most pleasant way. it's a shame Chaldea had to reset it all for the Grand Order, double shame that you had to fight HER.
sigh If only you had the grail right now, you could summon those dragons again, and maybe even Fafnir, how glorious would that be? how fun? The elder rider grunts at your direction interrupting your blissful reminiscence.
"yer hash...not Westorosi?" He asks
"No, French" You respond
The man scrunches his face up, clearly thinking very hard
"What...is...Fur-ren-cha" you can hear each syllable spoken was given a lot of thought.
"A country" You leave it at that
"Country...ah! Rhaesh, Country is Rhaesh"
"If you say so..." He grunts deeply. "say" He turns his head towards you, " who taught you to speak English?"
"Eeng-gul-lish?"
You make a gesture of words coming out of your mouth, "You know, the language I'm speaking and the one you're attempting speak. "
"Oh, Kommon Tang?"
Common Tongue? Is that what English is called here? "sigh" And just when you thought you wouldn't be more confused about this era...
"Yes common tongue" you say exasperated
"Khal Forzo Nayat teach me" He says, ignoring your tired tone.
Hmm, So this Khal Forzo, who is likely to be his tribe chief, taught him. Is Nayat a last name for his people or does it mean something else like a scribe or an educated man?
"Oh? why is that?" You ask.
"I am Ko" He grins as if being a Ko is a matter of pride.
"What's a Ko "
"Ko Is uhh... Jin shillat akkelenak fin lajat ha Khal" He speaks louder this time after a moment of hesitation.
A short pause settles and you can't really comprehend what he's saying despite the emotions he's putting behind his words.
"Nevermind" You say. He nods at your response and proceeds to look forward, Night has set in and the stars shine bright. Though there's something strange about the arrangement of the stars that you can't really put your finger on. The night sky still looks beautiful and there isn't much sound to distract from your observation.
You look to the elder rider to your side and speak, "You know, I've never asked you where you're from"
"Where I from?" He rubs his nose as he says it and narrows his eyes.
"Yes"
"Where I from? I from Dothraki' He puts at fist at his chest with a fist as he says this.
You quirk an eyebrow at that, Dothraki he says, Can't say I've ever heard a horsetribe be named that.
You ask him again, "and what are Dothraki?"
"Dothraki...ride horse.........."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
".......and what do you call that weapon, a Kopesh?" You point at his curved blade
" ah no no no" He shakes his head and spins the sickle-like-weapon with his fingers, he then stops and points it at you, "Arakh" he says, before swinging the weapon around, slashing at imagined enemies. Each swing creates a fwup sound as his performance goes on for a bit before stopping.
You've been walking, he's been trodding, for a while now. The moon is right above you and there are no sounds, 'cept for the clopping of horses in the dead of night.
You start to see something ahead of you, as you focus your eyes, you see large circle huts dot the area with only torches lighting them up. About 4-5 men holding torches patrol the area, some of em seem to be in conversation with one another. And at the centre of this gathering of huts is a hut that dwarves the rest of them. Larger and taller than all the other huts, this might be where this tribe chief is.
Eventually, you're within throwing distance of the largest hut as the elder rider exclaims his arrival.
"Anha'm tat tihat anna qoy anni qoy!"
The torchbearers scramble to your direction, you spot one of them go to the central hut as everyone else gets nearer to you. The elder rider drops down and grabs the unconscious boy with him, one of the torchbearers goes towards the rider as the rider just throws the boy at him. The torchbearer brings the Lanky Kid into a fireman carry and sprints to the hut closest to the central one. Then the rest of the torchbearer's circles around you with their Arakhs pointed towards you. The moment becomes tense as everyone is silent, Then the elder rider shouts at them and they disperse, clearly he's got some authority here. You move on with your companion unmolested and he guides you to the central Hut.
The Hut itself is quite plain, mainly comprised of some brown leather. But the man who comes out of that hat is the opposite of plain. He has quite the massive body, one may call it fat, but he doesn't walk nor stand like a person who never had exercised in months. He seems fit for a person of his stature, you can see some defined muscle tone on him despite the seemingly chubby exterior. He's taller than you, at least by a head, and he's got a braided beard just like your companion here only longer. His hair too is braided and longer too, You're guessing that the more the braids, the stronger the man in this 'Dothraki' culture. His nose is huge and thick whilst his eyes are narrow and menacing.
Which is contrasted by the warm smile you see upon his face.
He speaks in a voice much higher and raspy than your companion and hugs him tightly.
" Qoy anni qoy, anha davra ha yeri tikh jadat irge" He speaks warmly and happily
Your companion reciprocates his hug, "Anha tikh vo tikh elat rek dik qoy anni qoy", He says
You're starting to feel left out in all of this. Maybe you should really learn the language sometime.
They both de-attach themselves from each other as the Chief looks at you quite intensely. He looks back at the elderly rider, " jin nayat ajjin fin tat jin mem?" He asks him.
Your companion nods, "sek, akka mae's jin davra lajat ale, fichat yeri nayat here, mae disse stat common"
The chief shouts, "Laenesha!", immediately you hear someone scrambling out of the tent. The women that came out of the tent doesn't look like the copper-skinned riders around this gathering of huts. In fact, she's pretty light skinned with Caucasian features and has a pretty plain face to look at. A pointy nose that bends upwards, somewhat big eyes, and raven black hair; You guess she can be considered exotic around these parts.
The massive chief whispers something softly to the woman, she nods in assent and looks at you.
Her voice is levelled and sounds light and soft as if she was some delicate flower.
"Greetings Wanderer," She says.
Finally, someone, I could understand
"You are at the presence of the great Khal Forzo son of Lavakho, do show him the respect and dignity that he deserves"
He speaks softly to the lady again, "Khal Forzo is stunned by your beauty oh ethereal wanderer, he allows you the honour of being his concubine -- no -- Khaleesi, wife"
"Do I have any say in this?" You ask exasperated, this is starting to get quite irritating and you think up a hundred scenarios to kill this chief in front of you.
" Why would you deny it? The position of Khaleesi is a great position to be in his Khalasar, It is known"
" But What if I deny him?"
The woman looks at the chief and tells him something in that enigmatic 'Dothraki' language. The chief tells her something else, his voice firm and almost loud.
The woman finally looks at you and says, "Then he will have his men enslave you ".
That does it now, "Well..." You slowly walk forward towards the presumed chief. He looks at you with intensity, as if daring you to strike at him. " Tell this Khal Forzo that if he or any of his men try to touch me or force themselves onto me I will personally burn this entire shithole of a tribe. I'll burn every woman and child, impale every man here" You pause for a bit, letting your words sink in the translator's head. You then adopt a twisted ear to ear grin as you kept advancing towards the chief, " and I'll leave you to die last so I could watch you die a slow painful death as the maggots and flies desecrate your body".
You realize that you've drawn a crowd, 6 of these copper-skinned Dothraki men hold their Arakhs to themselves and watch your every move.
Khal Forzo doesn't break your sight as he speaks in a low voice. "hash..."
The lady relays it back, "that is quite the bold statement"
You respond, "One I'm willing to back"
The woman relays what you said to Khal Forzo, Forzo speaks a single word deeply and threateningly, "qosarvenikh..."
The Woman looks at you right at your sickly yellow eyes, "The Great Khal wants you to prove it"
[] Use your sword to dispatch the Dothraki men surrounding you.
[] Summon your great lance and sweep the area
[] Burn them all, you wonder how prone grasslands are to wildfires.
[]Write in...
After the trading of gestures and broken sentences, He finally realizes that you want to go with him to wherever he came from. He looks at you in silence and gives you a long pause, the wind swaying his braided beard during the setting sun. Eventually, he nods in assent and drops down off his horse to grab the young boy's body. He hefts the young boy up, supporting the unconscious kid with his shoulder before putting him at the back of his horse. The elder rider jumps up to his horse and proceeds to support the kid with his back to keep him from falling.
The young kid's horse is left vacant as you look to the elder rider in askance. He grunts and shakes his head and proceeded to bring his horse near the young kid's and grasp its reins. He now directs two horses whilst supporting the weight of a passed out kid, it paints a surreal picture to be sure but you've seen weirder.
He gently trods his horse to some direction as the young kid's horse follows, you jog up to his side as the armour at your arms and legs clink at your every step. The wind freezes you as the feeling of cold spreads throughout your body. You look down and you realize that you should probably manifest your old armour soon, either the one with or without the cape you're not sure, you just want to cover up. Maybe you should manifest that armour when you have your own privacy or maybe when he isn't looking, but even then he'd probably ask about it when he looks back at you. Speaking of manifesting, he seems to be looking just straight ahead, and whilst you have the chance you manifest a sheath for St.Catherine out of his sight and insert the holy sword there. Hopefully, he has never noticed that you didn't have a sheath with you this entire time.
You absolutely have no idea about the state of Magecraft and Magi in this era and you'd rather not flaunt your servant power right now, not until you know more. Which is a strange new feeling, different than your time in the French singularity. Back then you had an idea of who was who and what was what, and you were given the tools to bring it all down thanks to that madman. You've burned all those sycophants in Orleans, Conquered Paris in a day, and the feeling you had burning that damn bishop...Oh yes! His screams still haunt your dreams in the most pleasant way. it's a shame Chaldea had to reset it all for the Grand Order, double shame that you had to fight HER.
sigh If only you had the grail right now, you could summon those dragons again, and maybe even Fafnir, how glorious would that be? how fun? The elder rider grunts at your direction interrupting your blissful reminiscence.
"yer hash...not Westorosi?" He asks
"No, French" You respond
The man scrunches his face up, clearly thinking very hard
"What...is...Fur-ren-cha" you can hear each syllable spoken was given a lot of thought.
"A country" You leave it at that
"Country...ah! Rhaesh, Country is Rhaesh"
"If you say so..." He grunts deeply. "say" He turns his head towards you, " who taught you to speak English?"
"Eeng-gul-lish?"
You make a gesture of words coming out of your mouth, "You know, the language I'm speaking and the one you're attempting speak. "
"Oh, Kommon Tang?"
Common Tongue? Is that what English is called here? "sigh" And just when you thought you wouldn't be more confused about this era...
"Yes common tongue" you say exasperated
"Khal Forzo Nayat teach me" He says, ignoring your tired tone.
Hmm, So this Khal Forzo, who is likely to be his tribe chief, taught him. Is Nayat a last name for his people or does it mean something else like a scribe or an educated man?
"Oh? why is that?" You ask.
"I am Ko" He grins as if being a Ko is a matter of pride.
"What's a Ko "
"Ko Is uhh... Jin shillat akkelenak fin lajat ha Khal" He speaks louder this time after a moment of hesitation.
A short pause settles and you can't really comprehend what he's saying despite the emotions he's putting behind his words.
"Nevermind" You say. He nods at your response and proceeds to look forward, Night has set in and the stars shine bright. Though there's something strange about the arrangement of the stars that you can't really put your finger on. The night sky still looks beautiful and there isn't much sound to distract from your observation.
You look to the elder rider to your side and speak, "You know, I've never asked you where you're from"
"Where I from?" He rubs his nose as he says it and narrows his eyes.
"Yes"
"Where I from? I from Dothraki' He puts at fist at his chest with a fist as he says this.
You quirk an eyebrow at that, Dothraki he says, Can't say I've ever heard a horsetribe be named that.
You ask him again, "and what are Dothraki?"
"Dothraki...ride horse.........."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
".......and what do you call that weapon, a Kopesh?" You point at his curved blade
" ah no no no" He shakes his head and spins the sickle-like-weapon with his fingers, he then stops and points it at you, "Arakh" he says, before swinging the weapon around, slashing at imagined enemies. Each swing creates a fwup sound as his performance goes on for a bit before stopping.
You've been walking, he's been trodding, for a while now. The moon is right above you and there are no sounds, 'cept for the clopping of horses in the dead of night.
You start to see something ahead of you, as you focus your eyes, you see large circle huts dot the area with only torches lighting them up. About 4-5 men holding torches patrol the area, some of em seem to be in conversation with one another. And at the centre of this gathering of huts is a hut that dwarves the rest of them. Larger and taller than all the other huts, this might be where this tribe chief is.
Eventually, you're within throwing distance of the largest hut as the elder rider exclaims his arrival.
"Anha'm tat tihat anna qoy anni qoy!"
The torchbearers scramble to your direction, you spot one of them go to the central hut as everyone else gets nearer to you. The elder rider drops down and grabs the unconscious boy with him, one of the torchbearers goes towards the rider as the rider just throws the boy at him. The torchbearer brings the Lanky Kid into a fireman carry and sprints to the hut closest to the central one. Then the rest of the torchbearer's circles around you with their Arakhs pointed towards you. The moment becomes tense as everyone is silent, Then the elder rider shouts at them and they disperse, clearly he's got some authority here. You move on with your companion unmolested and he guides you to the central Hut.
The Hut itself is quite plain, mainly comprised of some brown leather. But the man who comes out of that hat is the opposite of plain. He has quite the massive body, one may call it fat, but he doesn't walk nor stand like a person who never had exercised in months. He seems fit for a person of his stature, you can see some defined muscle tone on him despite the seemingly chubby exterior. He's taller than you, at least by a head, and he's got a braided beard just like your companion here only longer. His hair too is braided and longer too, You're guessing that the more the braids, the stronger the man in this 'Dothraki' culture. His nose is huge and thick whilst his eyes are narrow and menacing.
Which is contrasted by the warm smile you see upon his face.
He speaks in a voice much higher and raspy than your companion and hugs him tightly.
" Qoy anni qoy, anha davra ha yeri tikh jadat irge" He speaks warmly and happily
Your companion reciprocates his hug, "Anha tikh vo tikh elat rek dik qoy anni qoy", He says
You're starting to feel left out in all of this. Maybe you should really learn the language sometime.
They both de-attach themselves from each other as the Chief looks at you quite intensely. He looks back at the elderly rider, " jin nayat ajjin fin tat jin mem?" He asks him.
Your companion nods, "sek, akka mae's jin davra lajat ale, fichat yeri nayat here, mae disse stat common"
The chief shouts, "Laenesha!", immediately you hear someone scrambling out of the tent. The women that came out of the tent doesn't look like the copper-skinned riders around this gathering of huts. In fact, she's pretty light skinned with Caucasian features and has a pretty plain face to look at. A pointy nose that bends upwards, somewhat big eyes, and raven black hair; You guess she can be considered exotic around these parts.
The massive chief whispers something softly to the woman, she nods in assent and looks at you.
Her voice is levelled and sounds light and soft as if she was some delicate flower.
"Greetings Wanderer," She says.
Finally, someone, I could understand
"You are at the presence of the great Khal Forzo son of Lavakho, do show him the respect and dignity that he deserves"
He speaks softly to the lady again, "Khal Forzo is stunned by your beauty oh ethereal wanderer, he allows you the honour of being his concubine -- no -- Khaleesi, wife"
"Do I have any say in this?" You ask exasperated, this is starting to get quite irritating and you think up a hundred scenarios to kill this chief in front of you.
" Why would you deny it? The position of Khaleesi is a great position to be in his Khalasar, It is known"
" But What if I deny him?"
The woman looks at the chief and tells him something in that enigmatic 'Dothraki' language. The chief tells her something else, his voice firm and almost loud.
The woman finally looks at you and says, "Then he will have his men enslave you ".
That does it now, "Well..." You slowly walk forward towards the presumed chief. He looks at you with intensity, as if daring you to strike at him. " Tell this Khal Forzo that if he or any of his men try to touch me or force themselves onto me I will personally burn this entire shithole of a tribe. I'll burn every woman and child, impale every man here" You pause for a bit, letting your words sink in the translator's head. You then adopt a twisted ear to ear grin as you kept advancing towards the chief, " and I'll leave you to die last so I could watch you die a slow painful death as the maggots and flies desecrate your body".
You realize that you've drawn a crowd, 6 of these copper-skinned Dothraki men hold their Arakhs to themselves and watch your every move.
Khal Forzo doesn't break your sight as he speaks in a low voice. "hash..."
The lady relays it back, "that is quite the bold statement"
You respond, "One I'm willing to back"
The woman relays what you said to Khal Forzo, Forzo speaks a single word deeply and threateningly, "qosarvenikh..."
The Woman looks at you right at your sickly yellow eyes, "The Great Khal wants you to prove it"
[] Use your sword to dispatch the Dothraki men surrounding you.
[] Summon your great lance and sweep the area
[] Burn them all, you wonder how prone grasslands are to wildfires.
[]Write in...
Last edited:
Prologue 1-4
Mathen57
Shotgun for a brain
- Location
- Jakarta, Indonesia
[X] Summon your great lance and sweep the area
Are all of these Dothraki as stupid as the young kid you fought? It's a wonder that they're able to face cities when their own leaders, these Khals, act so greedily and shortsightedly. If this Forzo wanted you as a concubine couldn't he just wait a bit? It's much more sensible to give a wanderer food and a roof to sleep under then bring up the question rather than demand them outright. Though you would've denied it anyway. What a crappy first impression you're having of them.
You notice 6 different Arakhs just touching your throat ready to slice you up, the Dothraki companion of yours grabs this Khal Forzo by the shoulder, he says something in what seems like a warning, Forzo just pushes him aside and snorts derisively.
"Yer astat mae davra vosma mae disse lajat losha, mae vo haj. Tihat mae lajat zhinda dothraki qoy sajak akka kisha tihat fin mae davra " He says pompously, "Arrek ishish mae ishish worth kishi kashi".
Guess that's your cue to give em a show. The Arakhs at your throat puts you in a tricky situation, dodge to the right and that's your throat sliced, Dodging left would've had the same outcome. So you do what you always do when you're in a bad situation, a situation so bad that there's nowhere else to go but up.
FWOOM
You jump as high as the central hut leaving them dumbfounded and staggered. You feel parts of your body's been scratched by the Arakhs but they are what they are, just scratches. You land away from the staggered circle of the 6 confused Dothrakis. You slowly stand up, back ramrod straight, arms crossed and chin up. They stare dumbfounded at your imperious form.
The Dothrakis gain their composure back as they're reinforced by some more of their men, most likely brought here because of the commotion. The group now numbers around 13 men they have an assortment of arms with them. You see men wielding whips, Bolas, and those ubiquitous Arakhs. They slowly approach you, stances low and ready to pounce.
You will your main weapon to manifest as fire ignites out of your wrist to form a ludicrous lance twice your height. The flag of your sigil sways proudly in the night wind with the vague visage of a dragon's form sewn into the centre of the purple and white flag. Your unholy black lance causes the group to stop and pause. You drink the tense silence as you look at the faces of every confused Dothraki in the group.
You will your flag to wrap itself around your lance so it won't get in the way, this startles the group even more. There is a pregnant pause in this Dothraki camp as you see both your Companion and Forzo contemplate the impossible sight of a short girl like you holding such a massive lance.
You hope your visage and the sudden appearance of the lance would dissuade them from attacking you. Anyone can hold a sword and look menacing, but it takes a special skill to hold a massive lance comfortably and with confidence. A skill you hope they notice is within you and discourage them from conducting acts of malice upon your person.
The dam breaks, one of the riders pounce at you with his Arakh screaming.
AIIIIIIYAYAYAYA ---- Fwup! Scrunch!
His scream is interrupted by your swing of the lance, its shaft striking him at the chest as you hear his ribs break. He lies bonelessly to the left of the group, you could see his chest still rise up and down indicating that he's alive.
One
Your world is suddenly saturated by the sounds of Dothraki screaming at you with fury.
A horizontal Swipe of your lance takes out 3 men from the group, leaving about 9 men arrayed against you.
4
A Dothraki readies his whip as you notice another Dothraki about to slash your back with his Arakh. You turn around to slap his Arakh away with your free hand before jabbing him at his head. He staggers a bit, both hands covering his now crooked and bleeding nose before collapsing, reeling in pain.
5
You feel something pull at your lance as you see the Dothraki's whip wrapped around it, you suddenly feel something tie your free arm to your torso as you notice the Bola wielding Dothraki at the far back of the group. A glance to your right shows yet another Dothraki with an Arakh slashing towards you. A side step allows the Dothraki's Arakh to narrowly miss your chest and instead slice at the Bola's chains, it barely cuts but it is enough for you to free your hand, breaking the chains entirely.
So arrogant, To think they can subdue me with this, You hold the chains connected to one of the weights of the Bola and swing it at the offending Dothraki. You're too fast for him and the weight caves his head in with a sickening crunch.
6
The Whip wielder is still attempting to pull at your lance but it is futile, Human strength is nothing compared to that of a servant, and you're one of the stronger ones. You pull your lance towards you which sends the Whip wielder flying. You intercept his flying body by throwing the Bola at his direction. It hits him in the chest as he goes "OOF", the crunch of broken ribs fills you with delight. He drops to the ground bonelessly.
7
Two Dothraki men flank your sides as a bowman aims at your back and the Bola wielding man readies to throw again. You dodge the arrow as it hits the Bola wielding Dothraki, and proceed to twirl your lance, it's shaft hitting the flanking copper-skinned men at your sides. They both collapse as you turn to face the bowman.
10
The bowman is guarded by an Arakh wielder who's using a defensive stance, His arms are close to his body whilst his legs are spread wide and balanced. Your lance comes at his side like an arrow but he redirects it away with the curved part of his Arakh.
schrrrring
You're impressed but you recover quickly and use the momentum of your lance's redirection to hit the Arakh wielder with the butt of your spear. He attempts to parry it but you're too fast and your lance breaks his arm. His arm falls limp and you thrust the blunt end of your Lance towards his gut, it connects and he falls.
11
You slowly walk towards the Bowman as he scrambles to ready his bow. He releases and the arrow flies towards you, only for you to grab it, its arrowhead almost touching your eye. The shaft of your lance hits him at the groin just for your amusement as he passes out.
12
Where is the last one you wonder? that can't be all--
Swing!
You grabbed the Arakh at the last minute, it's blade almost hitting your back, and you slowly turn to face the offending wielder.
idiot
It's the same Lanky kid from before, seems like he's woken up from unconsciousness and from the looks of it, has completely forgotten the lesson you've taught him. He stares at you not with fear, but with defiance. Though it is not the defiance you see in men who battle against their own fate but the sort of defiance of a petulant child who's angry for not getting what he wanted.
"Yer hash...bitch, "he says, trying his best to pronounce "bitch". You're starting to fume at the insult and his smug grin. Bad first impressions indeed.
Now how are you gonna deal with this brat?
[] Burn him slowly
[] Brutally maim and murder him in front of his tribe
[] Impale him with your Lance
[] Mercy
[] Write-in___
QM Notes: Will edit out grammatical errors in a bit but here it is! Feedback is appreciated.
Are all of these Dothraki as stupid as the young kid you fought? It's a wonder that they're able to face cities when their own leaders, these Khals, act so greedily and shortsightedly. If this Forzo wanted you as a concubine couldn't he just wait a bit? It's much more sensible to give a wanderer food and a roof to sleep under then bring up the question rather than demand them outright. Though you would've denied it anyway. What a crappy first impression you're having of them.
You notice 6 different Arakhs just touching your throat ready to slice you up, the Dothraki companion of yours grabs this Khal Forzo by the shoulder, he says something in what seems like a warning, Forzo just pushes him aside and snorts derisively.
"Yer astat mae davra vosma mae disse lajat losha, mae vo haj. Tihat mae lajat zhinda dothraki qoy sajak akka kisha tihat fin mae davra " He says pompously, "Arrek ishish mae ishish worth kishi kashi".
Guess that's your cue to give em a show. The Arakhs at your throat puts you in a tricky situation, dodge to the right and that's your throat sliced, Dodging left would've had the same outcome. So you do what you always do when you're in a bad situation, a situation so bad that there's nowhere else to go but up.
FWOOM
You jump as high as the central hut leaving them dumbfounded and staggered. You feel parts of your body's been scratched by the Arakhs but they are what they are, just scratches. You land away from the staggered circle of the 6 confused Dothrakis. You slowly stand up, back ramrod straight, arms crossed and chin up. They stare dumbfounded at your imperious form.
The Dothrakis gain their composure back as they're reinforced by some more of their men, most likely brought here because of the commotion. The group now numbers around 13 men they have an assortment of arms with them. You see men wielding whips, Bolas, and those ubiquitous Arakhs. They slowly approach you, stances low and ready to pounce.
You will your main weapon to manifest as fire ignites out of your wrist to form a ludicrous lance twice your height. The flag of your sigil sways proudly in the night wind with the vague visage of a dragon's form sewn into the centre of the purple and white flag. Your unholy black lance causes the group to stop and pause. You drink the tense silence as you look at the faces of every confused Dothraki in the group.
You will your flag to wrap itself around your lance so it won't get in the way, this startles the group even more. There is a pregnant pause in this Dothraki camp as you see both your Companion and Forzo contemplate the impossible sight of a short girl like you holding such a massive lance.
You hope your visage and the sudden appearance of the lance would dissuade them from attacking you. Anyone can hold a sword and look menacing, but it takes a special skill to hold a massive lance comfortably and with confidence. A skill you hope they notice is within you and discourage them from conducting acts of malice upon your person.
The dam breaks, one of the riders pounce at you with his Arakh screaming.
AIIIIIIYAYAYAYA ---- Fwup! Scrunch!
His scream is interrupted by your swing of the lance, its shaft striking him at the chest as you hear his ribs break. He lies bonelessly to the left of the group, you could see his chest still rise up and down indicating that he's alive.
One
Your world is suddenly saturated by the sounds of Dothraki screaming at you with fury.
A horizontal Swipe of your lance takes out 3 men from the group, leaving about 9 men arrayed against you.
4
A Dothraki readies his whip as you notice another Dothraki about to slash your back with his Arakh. You turn around to slap his Arakh away with your free hand before jabbing him at his head. He staggers a bit, both hands covering his now crooked and bleeding nose before collapsing, reeling in pain.
5
You feel something pull at your lance as you see the Dothraki's whip wrapped around it, you suddenly feel something tie your free arm to your torso as you notice the Bola wielding Dothraki at the far back of the group. A glance to your right shows yet another Dothraki with an Arakh slashing towards you. A side step allows the Dothraki's Arakh to narrowly miss your chest and instead slice at the Bola's chains, it barely cuts but it is enough for you to free your hand, breaking the chains entirely.
So arrogant, To think they can subdue me with this, You hold the chains connected to one of the weights of the Bola and swing it at the offending Dothraki. You're too fast for him and the weight caves his head in with a sickening crunch.
6
The Whip wielder is still attempting to pull at your lance but it is futile, Human strength is nothing compared to that of a servant, and you're one of the stronger ones. You pull your lance towards you which sends the Whip wielder flying. You intercept his flying body by throwing the Bola at his direction. It hits him in the chest as he goes "OOF", the crunch of broken ribs fills you with delight. He drops to the ground bonelessly.
7
Two Dothraki men flank your sides as a bowman aims at your back and the Bola wielding man readies to throw again. You dodge the arrow as it hits the Bola wielding Dothraki, and proceed to twirl your lance, it's shaft hitting the flanking copper-skinned men at your sides. They both collapse as you turn to face the bowman.
10
The bowman is guarded by an Arakh wielder who's using a defensive stance, His arms are close to his body whilst his legs are spread wide and balanced. Your lance comes at his side like an arrow but he redirects it away with the curved part of his Arakh.
schrrrring
You're impressed but you recover quickly and use the momentum of your lance's redirection to hit the Arakh wielder with the butt of your spear. He attempts to parry it but you're too fast and your lance breaks his arm. His arm falls limp and you thrust the blunt end of your Lance towards his gut, it connects and he falls.
11
You slowly walk towards the Bowman as he scrambles to ready his bow. He releases and the arrow flies towards you, only for you to grab it, its arrowhead almost touching your eye. The shaft of your lance hits him at the groin just for your amusement as he passes out.
12
Where is the last one you wonder? that can't be all--
Swing!
You grabbed the Arakh at the last minute, it's blade almost hitting your back, and you slowly turn to face the offending wielder.
idiot
It's the same Lanky kid from before, seems like he's woken up from unconsciousness and from the looks of it, has completely forgotten the lesson you've taught him. He stares at you not with fear, but with defiance. Though it is not the defiance you see in men who battle against their own fate but the sort of defiance of a petulant child who's angry for not getting what he wanted.
"Yer hash...bitch, "he says, trying his best to pronounce "bitch". You're starting to fume at the insult and his smug grin. Bad first impressions indeed.
Now how are you gonna deal with this brat?
[] Burn him slowly
[] Brutally maim and murder him in front of his tribe
[] Impale him with your Lance
[] Mercy
[] Write-in___
QM Notes: Will edit out grammatical errors in a bit but here it is! Feedback is appreciated.
Last edited:
Prologue 1-5
Mathen57
Shotgun for a brain
- Location
- Jakarta, Indonesia
[X] Impale him with your Lance
And just in case there's any confusion, sentences in ( ) are sentences spoken by the Khals translator.
You break his Arakh with your gloved hand, metal screeching as you squeeze. He goes for a jab but you intercepted it with your wrist, you hold his fist and twist. He screams in agony before you release your grip on him and back-handing his stomach. His body flies towards the Khal. The kid's in a daze, attempting to stand up as you walk deliberately to him.
You bring your lance down and thrust, it goes through his chest with ease as he grasps the shaft of your lance. He tries to push it out, but you thrust deeper as your spear goes out of his back. His eyes widen as his blood drips out of his mouth.
You lift your lance up, carrying the boy, whilst the Khal looks at you with fury. His blood drips down, staining your flag, "I'll clean it up later". His choking sounds are a wonderful thing to hear as he attempts to speak his last words, you won't give him the honour, not when he had the chance to live. The lanky kid regains his energy for a final shout before you interrupt him with the swing of your lance. He flies fast into the central hut screaming his final words. His body creates a hole in the roof before the cacophony of falling cups and decorations fills your ear. The Khal looks visibly panicked about the state of his hut, maybe there's something precious inside it that he wants to protect? that'll teach him to look at me like that.
The woman next to him is absolutely stock still, sickly pale, with her glistening sweat dripping down her forehead. The Khal's about to run to his hut but freezes as he notices your killing intent. Walking casually to them, fearing nothing, with your bloodied lance pointed to the couple, its tip dripping blood creates a terrifying visage. A visage of a monster, a witch approaching them with vengeful anger. Your spear lifts his head up, he attempts to pull a furious look but you see through his pathetic facade. He's shaking very much.
He speaks as his woman translates, " Yer zhorre yeri , anha tikh vo force yer tat tikh jin khaleesi arrek ( You've proven your point, I won't force you to be a Khaleesi or my woman)"
"Good, I'm glad we are in agreement" You smile brilliantly before looking around the camp and pausing, you break the silence. "I would like a hut to stay then" you say imperiously " it's only fair after all the troubles your men have given me and I require rest, I'll speak to you tomorrow then?"
The woman relays this to the Khal before he responds.
"Davra, jin rakh yer nakho? yer get mae okre (Fine, the boy you killed? You get his hut.)" You see your elderly companion grimace at that. Oh right, he exists.
"No, I think not" You lift your lance higher and higher as the Khal's head goes up. "You think I'll be sleeping in the same place as that pathetic idiot worm? No, your hut shall suffice, I would want a good night's rest on an actual bed, not some hard floor."
He holds tightly the shaft of your spear, "yer vos zhorre anna tat fin yer astat, yer nakho jin loy mahrazhi vo anna khalasar ( You think you can command me? You beaten 12 men and killed one, not my entire Khalasar of 20000)"
"Yes, but I can kill you right now" He flinches at that and you left him stuttering.
He finds his carefully, "Akka fin anha allow yer remekat finne anna zhorre okre, fin et tat zhorre anna arrekoon nakho yer she yeri remekat (Even if I let you sleep at my own home, what's to keep me from killing you in your sleep)"
You hear someone scramble inside the central hut, the loud sound of moving pots and cups can be heard inside it. You see a tiny figure coming out of the hut, then your eyes lighten in realization.
well well well
"Papa," the figure says in its squeaky little voice, " kifindirgi ajjin lhozzo remekat she hut?"
Despite having the tip of your lance at his neck he manages to turn his head left and speak to the boy, "Rhamo! elat irge!" The women too shouts at the boy, " Get inside!".
You chuckle quite loudly, it gets the attention of the family in front of you. You move your lance away before you thrust it at his right knee, it goes deep and you're careful not to have the tip go through his leg. Those wounds are usually hard to cover and can lead to a huge amount of blood loss, you don't want to kill him yet, not yet. The woman shrieks as Khal Forzo falls to his uninjured knee before stumbling and falling backwards. The woman comes at his side covering that gaping wound you've made whilst your elderly companion calls for help before helping out the woman himself, directing her and giving her a piece of cloth to turn into a tourniquet. Feeling satisfied you walk towards the hut where the boy is. He looks at you petrified at what you've done, as you draw nearer you get a closer look of his appearance. He's got that woman's pointy nose and Khal Forzo's eyes and seems pre-pubescent. His head only reaches up to your waist, how fragile he seems.
huh, So they're together? And that's their child?
He seems to have gotten his nerves back and tries to make a break for it, but you grab his arm, preventing him from running away. He struggles like a feral animal kicking, scratching, and biting wherever he could, though your armour prevents any wounds from being made so you ignore it. You look to the couple across you as you see their eyes stare at you with fury and with trepidation.
"I'll be keeping your kid hostage for the night, and don't bother bringing your men to save him. I'll notice even if I'm asleep, and if anyone of yours takes a step inside I'll kill him you understand?"
The boy's screaming is silenced by your lance pointed at his neck, the couple nods in understanding. Then more Dothraki pours into the area, more men than before looking fierce and ready to fight. Khal Forzo shouts, stopping their advance as they looked silently at you, weapons at the ready.
The Khal's woman speaks, "Who are you?" She says
"Why do you ask?"
"So I know the name of the woman who took my son hostage"
you chuckle at that "huh, well I'm...
[] Jeanne D'arc
[] Dragon Witch
[] Avenger
[] You don't need to know
[]Write in...
When you enter, the hut looks much more intricate than its exterior would've suggested, decorative silks and wools hang around its ceilings as golden cups and pots litter the ground. You look down to see a carpet with fine patterns depicting the image of a harpy, you wonder where that's from. At the centre of the room is a huge chair made of fine wood and near it are some pots with scrolls in them. interesting. But first, the kid...you turn your head to the right and is treated with the side of the child whimpering and quivering in fear. You know whatever you say will fly past him so all you do is hope he doesn't have the same stupid spirit as all the men here do and defy you. You walk to another room connected to the one you were in before and you're delighted by the sight of an actual bed. The bed is covered by leather blankets and skinned animal furs which calls to you, the idea of sleeping on it is outright seductive. There's a smaller bed near it for the kid, how convenient for it to be there, even more convenient are the Bolas in the basket placed near the entrance to this room.
Soon you find yourself chaining the boy to his bedpost and walking out the room right after. You hope he stays quiet, you need your beauty sleep after all this mess. Seriously, your first day in this era and you've encountered a dumb young kid and pissed off a horse chief who has an army of horse riders at his beck and call, you inwardly curse your E rank luck. Oh you could take on his army for sure but it'd very troublesome and you'd waste a lot of prana so you'd rather not. Speaking of prana, your stores seem to be full since you didn't expend your magical energy that much and your A+ Self-replenishment makes sure you stay at tip-top shape.
You arrive again into the central room with the huge chair and spot the pot of scrolls, now if you're lucky there might just be a map inside one of them. You pick them up one by one to find two of them to be useless. The last one you pick up is the jackpot, showing both geographical features and city locations. The map seems neglected and unused, why would it if the map was plundered by some horselord who thought it looked interesting.
Yes, you're starting to understand the lay of the land now but you're left confused. The land masses are weirdly shaped, you don't recognize them, well you can see some similarities of the Eastern continent with that of Asia minor but you're still left dumbfounded by the existence of the Western continent. What kind of continent is that? North and South America joined together? or maybe some twisted inverted version of Great Britain? You're left scratching your head. What's even more confusing is that the locations of interest are named using an English script, foreign words like Volantis and Pentos spelt by English letters. Hell, some of the cities are spelt in English too!: Kings landing, Sunspear, Storms End, what in the world?
This is gonna be a headache...
Well, once tomorrow comes you should probably "ask" some of the Dothraki on where they're headed to so you know where you truly are in this map. After that, you can plan on where to go. If you want to go that is, these Dothrakis no matter how petulant if tamed can be a dangerous force when given proper direction, not whatever whims their tribe chief has. Yes, you can see it now, the burning of cities as horsemen plunder it for gold and slaves, and with you at the head of it as your flag sways brilliantly in the open field. Striking terror at the hearts of your enemies and seeing them burn one by one would be a sight you'd be delighted to see.
But you shouldn't get ahead of yourself, of course, being the host of an army of these Dothrakis seems implausible to you right now, you need their respect and belief that you'll bring them to great glory and wealth thats the sort of people they are from your first impression. Which is made especially hard after your one-sided brawl with their men...and also by possibly crippling their "Khal" but it made you feel good so it's justified.
You come to your new bed with conflicting thoughts, where to go? what to do when you leave this shithole of a tribe? if you plan to leave at all. You contemplate as the child sobs near you.
[] The Dothraki can be controlled, you can lead them and they can be your tools for conquest as you give mankind the destruction and death that they deserve (also write how you will go about achieving control of the Dothrakis) (Warlord's route)
[] Explore this world a bit and learn more before doing anything too drastic ( write your vote on where to go and what she needs to learn about this world, she will immediately depart to the chosen location once the Dothrakis tells her where she is.) ( Wanderer's Route)
[] Conquer one of the cities in this new world and establish your place of operations ( Conquerer's route) (Write which cities you plan on conquering and with who if anyone, then write down how you will achieve this goal. Like the wanderer route you'll depart immediately once the Dothraki tells you where you are)
[] Write in... (you can mix and match elements of the three routes or write up your own)
QM Note: Thus ends the prologue of my first quest, hopefully I did well in Jalter's characterization, treating both Game of Thrones and Fate lore with respect, and being a good QM. If not do leave a comment feedback is appreciated. This vote here is big and is subject to rewrites if the discussions gets confused or go no where.
Oh and before I forget to mention, these routes are not set in stone. You can change it midway when the circumstances allow it.
Will edit grammatical errors in my own time.
Anyways thanks for reading!
And just in case there's any confusion, sentences in ( ) are sentences spoken by the Khals translator.
You break his Arakh with your gloved hand, metal screeching as you squeeze. He goes for a jab but you intercepted it with your wrist, you hold his fist and twist. He screams in agony before you release your grip on him and back-handing his stomach. His body flies towards the Khal. The kid's in a daze, attempting to stand up as you walk deliberately to him.
You bring your lance down and thrust, it goes through his chest with ease as he grasps the shaft of your lance. He tries to push it out, but you thrust deeper as your spear goes out of his back. His eyes widen as his blood drips out of his mouth.
You lift your lance up, carrying the boy, whilst the Khal looks at you with fury. His blood drips down, staining your flag, "I'll clean it up later". His choking sounds are a wonderful thing to hear as he attempts to speak his last words, you won't give him the honour, not when he had the chance to live. The lanky kid regains his energy for a final shout before you interrupt him with the swing of your lance. He flies fast into the central hut screaming his final words. His body creates a hole in the roof before the cacophony of falling cups and decorations fills your ear. The Khal looks visibly panicked about the state of his hut, maybe there's something precious inside it that he wants to protect? that'll teach him to look at me like that.
The woman next to him is absolutely stock still, sickly pale, with her glistening sweat dripping down her forehead. The Khal's about to run to his hut but freezes as he notices your killing intent. Walking casually to them, fearing nothing, with your bloodied lance pointed to the couple, its tip dripping blood creates a terrifying visage. A visage of a monster, a witch approaching them with vengeful anger. Your spear lifts his head up, he attempts to pull a furious look but you see through his pathetic facade. He's shaking very much.
He speaks as his woman translates, " Yer zhorre yeri , anha tikh vo force yer tat tikh jin khaleesi arrek ( You've proven your point, I won't force you to be a Khaleesi or my woman)"
"Good, I'm glad we are in agreement" You smile brilliantly before looking around the camp and pausing, you break the silence. "I would like a hut to stay then" you say imperiously " it's only fair after all the troubles your men have given me and I require rest, I'll speak to you tomorrow then?"
The woman relays this to the Khal before he responds.
"Davra, jin rakh yer nakho? yer get mae okre (Fine, the boy you killed? You get his hut.)" You see your elderly companion grimace at that. Oh right, he exists.
"No, I think not" You lift your lance higher and higher as the Khal's head goes up. "You think I'll be sleeping in the same place as that pathetic idiot worm? No, your hut shall suffice, I would want a good night's rest on an actual bed, not some hard floor."
He holds tightly the shaft of your spear, "yer vos zhorre anna tat fin yer astat, yer nakho jin loy mahrazhi vo anna khalasar ( You think you can command me? You beaten 12 men and killed one, not my entire Khalasar of 20000)"
"Yes, but I can kill you right now" He flinches at that and you left him stuttering.
He finds his carefully, "Akka fin anha allow yer remekat finne anna zhorre okre, fin et tat zhorre anna arrekoon nakho yer she yeri remekat (Even if I let you sleep at my own home, what's to keep me from killing you in your sleep)"
You hear someone scramble inside the central hut, the loud sound of moving pots and cups can be heard inside it. You see a tiny figure coming out of the hut, then your eyes lighten in realization.
well well well
"Papa," the figure says in its squeaky little voice, " kifindirgi ajjin lhozzo remekat she hut?"
Despite having the tip of your lance at his neck he manages to turn his head left and speak to the boy, "Rhamo! elat irge!" The women too shouts at the boy, " Get inside!".
You chuckle quite loudly, it gets the attention of the family in front of you. You move your lance away before you thrust it at his right knee, it goes deep and you're careful not to have the tip go through his leg. Those wounds are usually hard to cover and can lead to a huge amount of blood loss, you don't want to kill him yet, not yet. The woman shrieks as Khal Forzo falls to his uninjured knee before stumbling and falling backwards. The woman comes at his side covering that gaping wound you've made whilst your elderly companion calls for help before helping out the woman himself, directing her and giving her a piece of cloth to turn into a tourniquet. Feeling satisfied you walk towards the hut where the boy is. He looks at you petrified at what you've done, as you draw nearer you get a closer look of his appearance. He's got that woman's pointy nose and Khal Forzo's eyes and seems pre-pubescent. His head only reaches up to your waist, how fragile he seems.
huh, So they're together? And that's their child?
He seems to have gotten his nerves back and tries to make a break for it, but you grab his arm, preventing him from running away. He struggles like a feral animal kicking, scratching, and biting wherever he could, though your armour prevents any wounds from being made so you ignore it. You look to the couple across you as you see their eyes stare at you with fury and with trepidation.
"I'll be keeping your kid hostage for the night, and don't bother bringing your men to save him. I'll notice even if I'm asleep, and if anyone of yours takes a step inside I'll kill him you understand?"
The boy's screaming is silenced by your lance pointed at his neck, the couple nods in understanding. Then more Dothraki pours into the area, more men than before looking fierce and ready to fight. Khal Forzo shouts, stopping their advance as they looked silently at you, weapons at the ready.
The Khal's woman speaks, "Who are you?" She says
"Why do you ask?"
"So I know the name of the woman who took my son hostage"
you chuckle at that "huh, well I'm...
[] Jeanne D'arc
[] Dragon Witch
[] Avenger
[] You don't need to know
[]Write in...
When you enter, the hut looks much more intricate than its exterior would've suggested, decorative silks and wools hang around its ceilings as golden cups and pots litter the ground. You look down to see a carpet with fine patterns depicting the image of a harpy, you wonder where that's from. At the centre of the room is a huge chair made of fine wood and near it are some pots with scrolls in them. interesting. But first, the kid...you turn your head to the right and is treated with the side of the child whimpering and quivering in fear. You know whatever you say will fly past him so all you do is hope he doesn't have the same stupid spirit as all the men here do and defy you. You walk to another room connected to the one you were in before and you're delighted by the sight of an actual bed. The bed is covered by leather blankets and skinned animal furs which calls to you, the idea of sleeping on it is outright seductive. There's a smaller bed near it for the kid, how convenient for it to be there, even more convenient are the Bolas in the basket placed near the entrance to this room.
Soon you find yourself chaining the boy to his bedpost and walking out the room right after. You hope he stays quiet, you need your beauty sleep after all this mess. Seriously, your first day in this era and you've encountered a dumb young kid and pissed off a horse chief who has an army of horse riders at his beck and call, you inwardly curse your E rank luck. Oh you could take on his army for sure but it'd very troublesome and you'd waste a lot of prana so you'd rather not. Speaking of prana, your stores seem to be full since you didn't expend your magical energy that much and your A+ Self-replenishment makes sure you stay at tip-top shape.
You arrive again into the central room with the huge chair and spot the pot of scrolls, now if you're lucky there might just be a map inside one of them. You pick them up one by one to find two of them to be useless. The last one you pick up is the jackpot, showing both geographical features and city locations. The map seems neglected and unused, why would it if the map was plundered by some horselord who thought it looked interesting.
Yes, you're starting to understand the lay of the land now but you're left confused. The land masses are weirdly shaped, you don't recognize them, well you can see some similarities of the Eastern continent with that of Asia minor but you're still left dumbfounded by the existence of the Western continent. What kind of continent is that? North and South America joined together? or maybe some twisted inverted version of Great Britain? You're left scratching your head. What's even more confusing is that the locations of interest are named using an English script, foreign words like Volantis and Pentos spelt by English letters. Hell, some of the cities are spelt in English too!: Kings landing, Sunspear, Storms End, what in the world?
This is gonna be a headache...
Well, once tomorrow comes you should probably "ask" some of the Dothraki on where they're headed to so you know where you truly are in this map. After that, you can plan on where to go. If you want to go that is, these Dothrakis no matter how petulant if tamed can be a dangerous force when given proper direction, not whatever whims their tribe chief has. Yes, you can see it now, the burning of cities as horsemen plunder it for gold and slaves, and with you at the head of it as your flag sways brilliantly in the open field. Striking terror at the hearts of your enemies and seeing them burn one by one would be a sight you'd be delighted to see.
But you shouldn't get ahead of yourself, of course, being the host of an army of these Dothrakis seems implausible to you right now, you need their respect and belief that you'll bring them to great glory and wealth thats the sort of people they are from your first impression. Which is made especially hard after your one-sided brawl with their men...and also by possibly crippling their "Khal" but it made you feel good so it's justified.
You come to your new bed with conflicting thoughts, where to go? what to do when you leave this shithole of a tribe? if you plan to leave at all. You contemplate as the child sobs near you.
[] The Dothraki can be controlled, you can lead them and they can be your tools for conquest as you give mankind the destruction and death that they deserve (also write how you will go about achieving control of the Dothrakis) (Warlord's route)
[] Explore this world a bit and learn more before doing anything too drastic ( write your vote on where to go and what she needs to learn about this world, she will immediately depart to the chosen location once the Dothrakis tells her where she is.) ( Wanderer's Route)
[] Conquer one of the cities in this new world and establish your place of operations ( Conquerer's route) (Write which cities you plan on conquering and with who if anyone, then write down how you will achieve this goal. Like the wanderer route you'll depart immediately once the Dothraki tells you where you are)
[] Write in... (you can mix and match elements of the three routes or write up your own)
QM Note: Thus ends the prologue of my first quest, hopefully I did well in Jalter's characterization, treating both Game of Thrones and Fate lore with respect, and being a good QM. If not do leave a comment feedback is appreciated. This vote here is big and is subject to rewrites if the discussions gets confused or go no where.
Oh and before I forget to mention, these routes are not set in stone. You can change it midway when the circumstances allow it.
Will edit grammatical errors in my own time.
Anyways thanks for reading!
Last edited:
Troubles in the North & The Demon Emperor of Yi Ti
Mathen57
Shotgun for a brain
- Location
- Jakarta, Indonesia
QM Note: Been doing some rewrites of the side stories to make them flow better and to reveal more on the events occurring in Planetos. I've mainly just edited Nobunaga's part in this sidestory.
There will be more rewrites soon, so have a look out for those!
---------
Robb I
Robb Stark, the King of the North, looks out the castle's window as his blood boils, there's now a dilemma. Edmure's blunder has lead the Mountain to slip from his grasp, losing 200 men for a mill and two Lannister boys, an absolute waste of good men. He should've coordinated better with the Tullies this he knows but managing the Northern lords, coordinating a war, and dealing with Theon's betrayal has left his hands full. His nights have been troubled, to say the least, fears of what Twyin's armies would do after he handles Stannis in Kings Landing has kept him awake. The prospects look grim, even more so now that the Tyrells have pledged their support, but no matter, the North will prevail and Winter will come for the Southron bastards.
A lordling interrupts his contemplation.
"My king"
Robb turns around to see the slim figure of Lord Robin Flint dressed in armour, his cheeks droopy and is complemented by his stubble. Robb guesses he may be a few summers younger than Father.
" Is there something you need Lord Robin?" he asks
"I haven't gotten any ravens back from my holdings in the North for months Lord Stark, I request that I come back with my 100 men"
"Shouldn't you have asked Roose Bolton for this?"
"I did ask Roose Bolton for permission but he told me to ask you"
" I see... So you think the Ironborn raided it"
"Yes Lord Stark, it was a matter of time considering where it is"
"Forgive me, Lord Robin, you're an honourable trustworthy man of that is no doubt, but I need you here with me in this war"
" Milord Stark, the things the Ironborn could do to my family---"
" Yes I know, and I hope you know the Ironborn isn't only in Flint's Finger Lord Robin. They're at my home where my brothers are, so don't think you're the only who doesn't want to be here"
Lord Robin pauses and grimaces.
"Forgive me, Lord Stark, I spoke out of turn, it's just...I worry for them, my family"
Robb puts a consoling hand on Robin's shoulders.
"I know, Lord Robin, I know. That's why we need to finish this war quickly so you can go home to your family, so we can all go home to our families"
-------------------------------------
??
Crimson blood stains the viridescent flora of Yi-Ti's jungle. Corpses are strewn about in different states of mutilation as the smell of gore mixes with the residue of gunfire.
A man stands among the circle of his dead comrades, looking towards the oppressive, uncaring sun. His shivering hands wipe the blood off his brow only to stain his face further with crimson. He looks to his hands in a daze and sees the holes and bleeding stumps of his wrists.
A comrade of his screams a gurgled scream, shouting for his mother to take him home. The man barely moves his head towards the direction of the sound.
Tired. So tired.
He looks down to his armour, rattled with holes, each a fountain of dripping blood. His hand falls upon the hilt of his jian, a hilt that he once grasped a thousand times. It consoles him in its familiarity as his lethargic good eye survey the battlefield, the other eye being a mangled mess.
Manchu Longwei, the eldest son to Bu Gai, the seventeenth Azure Emperor, laments his weakness. He clutches his Jian tightly as he is overwhelmed with regrets.
The heir to Bu Gai, loved by the smallfolk and regarded by the nobility as the stoic son who will mend the wounds left by his father, holds back tears.
There's still so much to do, he can't die here, in this bloody field.
These fire spears...they were horrifying. His vanguard disintegrated in three mere volleys, and the infantry was slaughtered en masse. Oh, gods.
He needs to warn his father, or the enemy will burn a path towards Yin unimpeded. He needs to tell them that the Red Rebel is a more significant threat than the ancient feuding houses of Yi-Ti, or of Cao Jian's machinations.
A loud BANG rings across the battlefield as the man chokes on his own blood, the newly open hole in his throat killing him.
Manchu's last thoughts were of his wife and son that he'll be leaving behind. A single tear drips down his cheek as the Great Prince of Yi-Ti falls to the ground. His blood mixing with the green of the land.
Through the smoke and mists, a woman appears. She wears a black trenchcoat with six golden buttons and a belt at her waist. Her resplendent red cape sways brilliantly in the wind and contrasts with the rest of her attire. She wears baggy pants fitted with golden circular kneecaps that are right above her golden boots. Her gloved hand wields a katana with a yellow hilt and a red edge that shines magnificently despite all the smoke. The peaked cap she wears follows the red, black, and gold colour of her attire. At the front of the peaked cap is the golden symbol of a flower of her clan. Her smooth pale face, sharp chin and nose, and long flowing pitch-black hair create this sense of dangerous beauty. An entrancing flower of numerous thorns.
Her piercing red eyes observe the battlefield as she summons an arquebusier to her free hand and pulls the trigger. Another man screams in agony before his cries peter out.
The red woman turns her head back towards the noble entourage that had observed her battle. Each of them wears distinctive lamellar armour with golden symbols denoting their house on their chest. They stand still, some of them petrified, some are contemplating, while the rest trace their hilts instinctively with their fingers.
One of them speaks, his armour orange, and his voice careful with an undertone of reverence. "A single battle...and...the largest royal army ever assembled in three centuries just...destroyed. In a day."
The woman speaks, her tone dripping with satisfaction, "Save your breath Pol Qo and enjoy the view. Think of this splendid sight as a generous gift from your new Emperor."
"I am honoured you deign us worthy of such a gift. Your weapons are as terrible as the storm."
"And your men will wield them soon enough, this will be the first of many battles for conquest. "
"So you really seek to rule Yi-Ti? Even if you lack the blood to claim the throne."
"Tell me, General, is it claims and bloodlines that unites a people or the might of arms and a shared idea?"
"Might of arms brings people to submission, not unity. And a Yi-Ti ruled under a shared ideal is impossible, we've been fractured for millennia."
"What a pessimistic outlook, General. I abhor your attitude, and besides, the might of arms is a unifying force rather than an oppressive one." The woman chides, "I concede that the greater our army, the more the people fear its power, but also the safer they feel from internal and external threats. It is a stabilizing force that the people will crave in this time of turmoil, and it is a stabilizing force I intend to command."
"And if they don't see what you see, if they revolt? What then?"
The woman snorts derisively at that "Oh, no worries General, even if the people revolt under my new rule I will certainly not be deposed, I have my own way of dealing with rebels after all. But it's not like they would revolt in the first place." She raises her gloved index finger, "Innovation is the key to prosperity you see. When the wheels of industry start accelerating, this country will be wealthier than it has ever been, wealthier than this Empire of the Dawn of ages past. And wealth and prosperity are the greatest weapons against revolts." She taps her head with an index finger, " When you fulfil the people's needs and wants, you win their hearts and minds, and a shared idea solidifies this even further. I will bring this Empire into a new era that will dwarf all the other eras before."
"You will rule all of Yi Ti with your progressive policies then? Bring prosperity after millennia of schemes and suffering? Be the messiah of our people and save us from our decadence? Those are the ambitions of a dreamer, do you think this has never been done before? Your conquest of Yi-Ti must be based on what is possible rather than the lofty heights of your ambitions."
A twisted grin appears on her pale face " Oh how narrow minded of you general, what I'm giving you is much more magical than fairytales. And besides...Who said I plan on conquering just the Yi Ti?"
The men around freezes in shock at her statement, to have the ambition to conquer all of Yi Ti is crazy enough, but to want more than that is just plain madness. It is made apparent to the men and Pol Qo that the woman in front of them is ungodly yet seems to have the power to fulfill those ambitions. But does she have the mind and attitude to see her ambitions successfully? They do not know, and some revaluate their choice in following this new Emperor who came from nowhere.
"You truly are a Demon Emperor..."
"Only to my enemies general, only to my enemies. "
There will be more rewrites soon, so have a look out for those!
---------
Robb I
Robb Stark, the King of the North, looks out the castle's window as his blood boils, there's now a dilemma. Edmure's blunder has lead the Mountain to slip from his grasp, losing 200 men for a mill and two Lannister boys, an absolute waste of good men. He should've coordinated better with the Tullies this he knows but managing the Northern lords, coordinating a war, and dealing with Theon's betrayal has left his hands full. His nights have been troubled, to say the least, fears of what Twyin's armies would do after he handles Stannis in Kings Landing has kept him awake. The prospects look grim, even more so now that the Tyrells have pledged their support, but no matter, the North will prevail and Winter will come for the Southron bastards.
A lordling interrupts his contemplation.
"My king"
Robb turns around to see the slim figure of Lord Robin Flint dressed in armour, his cheeks droopy and is complemented by his stubble. Robb guesses he may be a few summers younger than Father.
" Is there something you need Lord Robin?" he asks
"I haven't gotten any ravens back from my holdings in the North for months Lord Stark, I request that I come back with my 100 men"
"Shouldn't you have asked Roose Bolton for this?"
"I did ask Roose Bolton for permission but he told me to ask you"
" I see... So you think the Ironborn raided it"
"Yes Lord Stark, it was a matter of time considering where it is"
"Forgive me, Lord Robin, you're an honourable trustworthy man of that is no doubt, but I need you here with me in this war"
" Milord Stark, the things the Ironborn could do to my family---"
" Yes I know, and I hope you know the Ironborn isn't only in Flint's Finger Lord Robin. They're at my home where my brothers are, so don't think you're the only who doesn't want to be here"
Lord Robin pauses and grimaces.
"Forgive me, Lord Stark, I spoke out of turn, it's just...I worry for them, my family"
Robb puts a consoling hand on Robin's shoulders.
"I know, Lord Robin, I know. That's why we need to finish this war quickly so you can go home to your family, so we can all go home to our families"
-------------------------------------
??
Crimson blood stains the viridescent flora of Yi-Ti's jungle. Corpses are strewn about in different states of mutilation as the smell of gore mixes with the residue of gunfire.
A man stands among the circle of his dead comrades, looking towards the oppressive, uncaring sun. His shivering hands wipe the blood off his brow only to stain his face further with crimson. He looks to his hands in a daze and sees the holes and bleeding stumps of his wrists.
A comrade of his screams a gurgled scream, shouting for his mother to take him home. The man barely moves his head towards the direction of the sound.
Tired. So tired.
He looks down to his armour, rattled with holes, each a fountain of dripping blood. His hand falls upon the hilt of his jian, a hilt that he once grasped a thousand times. It consoles him in its familiarity as his lethargic good eye survey the battlefield, the other eye being a mangled mess.
Manchu Longwei, the eldest son to Bu Gai, the seventeenth Azure Emperor, laments his weakness. He clutches his Jian tightly as he is overwhelmed with regrets.
The heir to Bu Gai, loved by the smallfolk and regarded by the nobility as the stoic son who will mend the wounds left by his father, holds back tears.
There's still so much to do, he can't die here, in this bloody field.
These fire spears...they were horrifying. His vanguard disintegrated in three mere volleys, and the infantry was slaughtered en masse. Oh, gods.
He needs to warn his father, or the enemy will burn a path towards Yin unimpeded. He needs to tell them that the Red Rebel is a more significant threat than the ancient feuding houses of Yi-Ti, or of Cao Jian's machinations.
A loud BANG rings across the battlefield as the man chokes on his own blood, the newly open hole in his throat killing him.
Manchu's last thoughts were of his wife and son that he'll be leaving behind. A single tear drips down his cheek as the Great Prince of Yi-Ti falls to the ground. His blood mixing with the green of the land.
Through the smoke and mists, a woman appears. She wears a black trenchcoat with six golden buttons and a belt at her waist. Her resplendent red cape sways brilliantly in the wind and contrasts with the rest of her attire. She wears baggy pants fitted with golden circular kneecaps that are right above her golden boots. Her gloved hand wields a katana with a yellow hilt and a red edge that shines magnificently despite all the smoke. The peaked cap she wears follows the red, black, and gold colour of her attire. At the front of the peaked cap is the golden symbol of a flower of her clan. Her smooth pale face, sharp chin and nose, and long flowing pitch-black hair create this sense of dangerous beauty. An entrancing flower of numerous thorns.
Her piercing red eyes observe the battlefield as she summons an arquebusier to her free hand and pulls the trigger. Another man screams in agony before his cries peter out.
The red woman turns her head back towards the noble entourage that had observed her battle. Each of them wears distinctive lamellar armour with golden symbols denoting their house on their chest. They stand still, some of them petrified, some are contemplating, while the rest trace their hilts instinctively with their fingers.
One of them speaks, his armour orange, and his voice careful with an undertone of reverence. "A single battle...and...the largest royal army ever assembled in three centuries just...destroyed. In a day."
The woman speaks, her tone dripping with satisfaction, "Save your breath Pol Qo and enjoy the view. Think of this splendid sight as a generous gift from your new Emperor."
"I am honoured you deign us worthy of such a gift. Your weapons are as terrible as the storm."
"And your men will wield them soon enough, this will be the first of many battles for conquest. "
"So you really seek to rule Yi-Ti? Even if you lack the blood to claim the throne."
"Tell me, General, is it claims and bloodlines that unites a people or the might of arms and a shared idea?"
"Might of arms brings people to submission, not unity. And a Yi-Ti ruled under a shared ideal is impossible, we've been fractured for millennia."
"What a pessimistic outlook, General. I abhor your attitude, and besides, the might of arms is a unifying force rather than an oppressive one." The woman chides, "I concede that the greater our army, the more the people fear its power, but also the safer they feel from internal and external threats. It is a stabilizing force that the people will crave in this time of turmoil, and it is a stabilizing force I intend to command."
"And if they don't see what you see, if they revolt? What then?"
The woman snorts derisively at that "Oh, no worries General, even if the people revolt under my new rule I will certainly not be deposed, I have my own way of dealing with rebels after all. But it's not like they would revolt in the first place." She raises her gloved index finger, "Innovation is the key to prosperity you see. When the wheels of industry start accelerating, this country will be wealthier than it has ever been, wealthier than this Empire of the Dawn of ages past. And wealth and prosperity are the greatest weapons against revolts." She taps her head with an index finger, " When you fulfil the people's needs and wants, you win their hearts and minds, and a shared idea solidifies this even further. I will bring this Empire into a new era that will dwarf all the other eras before."
"You will rule all of Yi Ti with your progressive policies then? Bring prosperity after millennia of schemes and suffering? Be the messiah of our people and save us from our decadence? Those are the ambitions of a dreamer, do you think this has never been done before? Your conquest of Yi-Ti must be based on what is possible rather than the lofty heights of your ambitions."
A twisted grin appears on her pale face " Oh how narrow minded of you general, what I'm giving you is much more magical than fairytales. And besides...Who said I plan on conquering just the Yi Ti?"
The men around freezes in shock at her statement, to have the ambition to conquer all of Yi Ti is crazy enough, but to want more than that is just plain madness. It is made apparent to the men and Pol Qo that the woman in front of them is ungodly yet seems to have the power to fulfill those ambitions. But does she have the mind and attitude to see her ambitions successfully? They do not know, and some revaluate their choice in following this new Emperor who came from nowhere.
"You truly are a Demon Emperor..."
"Only to my enemies general, only to my enemies. "
---------
Robb I
Robb Stark the King of the North looks out the castle's window as his blood boils, there's now a dilemma. Edmure's blunder has lead the Mountain to slip from his grasp, losing 200 men for a mill and two Lannister boys, an absolute waste of good men. He should've coordinated better with the Tullies this he knows but managing the Northern lords, coordinating a war, and dealing with Theon's betrayal has left his hands full. His nights have been troubled, to say the least, fears of what Twyin's armies would do after he handles Stannis in Kings Landing has kept him awake. The prospects look grim, even more so now that the Tyrells have pledged their support, but no matter, the North will prevail and Winter will come for the Southron bastards.
A lordling interrupts his contemplation.
"My king"
Robb turns around to see the slim figure of Lord Robin Flint dressed in armour, his cheeks droopy and is complemented by his stubble. Robb guesses he may be a few summers younger than Father.
" Is there something you need Lord Robin?" he asks
"I haven't gotten any ravens back from my holdings in the North for months Lord Stark, I request that I come back with my 100 men"
"Shouldn't you have asked Roose Bolton for this?"
"I did ask Roose Bolton for permission but he told me to ask you"
" I see... So you think the Ironborn raided it"
"Yes Lord Stark, it was a matter of time considering where it is"
"Forgive me, Lord Robin, you're an honourable trustworthy man of that is no doubt, but I need you here with me in this war"
" Milord Stark, the things the Ironborn could do to my family---"
" Yes I know, and I hope you know the Ironborn isn't only in Flint's Finger Lord Robin. They're at my home where my brothers are, so don't think you're the only who doesn't want to be here"
Lord Robin pauses and grimaces.
"Forgive me, Lord Stark, I spoke out of turn, it's just...I worry for them, my family"
Robb puts a consoling hand on Robin's shoulders.
"I know, Lord Robin, I know. That's why we need to finish this war quickly so you can go home to your family, so we can all go home to our families"
-------------------------------------
??
A hundred thousand corpses are strewn across the open plain. A massive jungle lay on the far horizon whilst the sun reaches its apex, it would've been a picture of viridescent beauty had it not been for the blood and gore.
Each corpse across the field was in different states of mutilation but all of them are missing at least a chunk of their bodies. A man screams in agony as he tries to keep his guts from falling out, another stare dumbly at their dismembered legs, but out of all these suffering men, one still stands. His armour is rattled with holes in which blood pours out of, he is missing his right arm whilst his left holds his Jian tightly. Its hilt is decorated with gold and symbols but its shining brilliance is covered in blood. The man's face is the manifestation of the word Prince. A high jawline, sharp eyes, and high cheeks, he creates a dashing visage. A visage that destroyed by a missing eye, deep cuts at his cheeks, and dishevelled raven black hair.
A loud BANG rings across the battlefield as the man chokes on his own blood and falls, the newly open hole in his throat killing him. Then a woman appears through all the fire and smoke that dots all over the field.
She wears a black trenchcoat with six golden buttons and a belt at her waist. Her resplendent red cape sways brilliantly in the wind and creates a nice contrast with the rest of her attire. She wears baggy pants fitted with golden circular kneecaps that are right above her golden boots. Her gloved hand wields a katana with a yellow hilt and a red edge that shines magnificently despite all the smoke. The peaked cap she wears follows the red, black, and gold colour of her attire. At the front of the peaked cap is the golden symbol of a flower of her clan. Her smooth pale face, sharp chin and nose, and long flowing pitch-black hair give her a beauty that all men will sing. Her piercing red eyes observe the battlefield as she summons an arquebusier to her free hand and pulls the trigger. Another man screams in agony before petering out.
An entourage of men in distinctive lamellar armour comes up behind her. They have unique golden symbols on their armour to denote the noble house that they're from. These men walked shakingly behind the woman and quiver in fear. The sight they see right now is a sight no one in this world has ever seen, what they see is not the aftermath of a great battle but of systematic slaughter. One man in orange Lamellar armour approaches the woman and speaks reverently and fearfully
"To destroy the army of the Five Princes Coalition is...I have no words"
The woman speaks, her tone dripping with satisfaction, "Then save your breath Pol Qo and enjoy the view. Think of this splendid sight as a generous gift from your new emperor"
"Nothing we have can match the might of the weapons you wield"
"And your men will wield them soon enough, this will be the first of many battles for conquest."
"So that means you really are going through with it, even if you have no claim to the throne"
"Tell me General, is it claims and bloodlines that unites a people or the might of arms?"
"Might of arms will not unite a people, you're just forcing them into submission if you try"
"Wrong, General, and I thought you were smarter than that." She fakes cough before explaining "might of arms gives people fear and security. The greater the might of arms, the more they fear its power, but also the safer they feel from internal and external threats. I will give the people of Yi Ti that safety and stabilize this decadant realm"
"And if they don't see what you see, if they revolt? what then?
The Woman snorts derisively at that "Oh, no worries General, even if the people revolt under my new rule I will certainly not be deposed, I have my own way of dealing with rebels after all. But it's not like they would revolt in the first place. Innovation is the key to prosperity you see, and I'll innovate this land out of its stagnant state. Under my reign, there will be many changes, my policies will progress this nation from sluggish stagnation and will become an ascendant modern empire. My new subjects will hunger no more, nor will they fear the basilisks of the jungle, and the pinhead Jogos nai in the north, they will be content and there will be no revolts."
"You will rule all of Yi Ti with your progressive policies then? bring prosperity after millennia of schemes and suffering? Be the messiah of our people and save us from our decadence? Don't be silly, This isn't some fairytale where everything will go your way "
A twisted grin appears on her pale face " Oh how narrow minded of you general, what I'm giving you is much more magical than fairytales. And besides...Who said I plan on conquering just the Yi Ti?"
The men around freezes in shock at her statement, to have the ambition to conquer all of Yi Ti is crazy enough, but to want more than that is just plain madness. It is made apparent to the men and Pol Qo that the woman in front of them is ungodly ambitious yet seems to have the power and the mind to back accomplish those ambitions.
"You truly are a Demon Emperor..."
"Only to my enemies general, only to my enemies. "
QM Note: Will edit out any grammatical errors in a bit.
Robb I
Robb Stark the King of the North looks out the castle's window as his blood boils, there's now a dilemma. Edmure's blunder has lead the Mountain to slip from his grasp, losing 200 men for a mill and two Lannister boys, an absolute waste of good men. He should've coordinated better with the Tullies this he knows but managing the Northern lords, coordinating a war, and dealing with Theon's betrayal has left his hands full. His nights have been troubled, to say the least, fears of what Twyin's armies would do after he handles Stannis in Kings Landing has kept him awake. The prospects look grim, even more so now that the Tyrells have pledged their support, but no matter, the North will prevail and Winter will come for the Southron bastards.
A lordling interrupts his contemplation.
"My king"
Robb turns around to see the slim figure of Lord Robin Flint dressed in armour, his cheeks droopy and is complemented by his stubble. Robb guesses he may be a few summers younger than Father.
" Is there something you need Lord Robin?" he asks
"I haven't gotten any ravens back from my holdings in the North for months Lord Stark, I request that I come back with my 100 men"
"Shouldn't you have asked Roose Bolton for this?"
"I did ask Roose Bolton for permission but he told me to ask you"
" I see... So you think the Ironborn raided it"
"Yes Lord Stark, it was a matter of time considering where it is"
"Forgive me, Lord Robin, you're an honourable trustworthy man of that is no doubt, but I need you here with me in this war"
" Milord Stark, the things the Ironborn could do to my family---"
" Yes I know, and I hope you know the Ironborn isn't only in Flint's Finger Lord Robin. They're at my home where my brothers are, so don't think you're the only who doesn't want to be here"
Lord Robin pauses and grimaces.
"Forgive me, Lord Stark, I spoke out of turn, it's just...I worry for them, my family"
Robb puts a consoling hand on Robin's shoulders.
"I know, Lord Robin, I know. That's why we need to finish this war quickly so you can go home to your family, so we can all go home to our families"
-------------------------------------
??
A hundred thousand corpses are strewn across the open plain. A massive jungle lay on the far horizon whilst the sun reaches its apex, it would've been a picture of viridescent beauty had it not been for the blood and gore.
Each corpse across the field was in different states of mutilation but all of them are missing at least a chunk of their bodies. A man screams in agony as he tries to keep his guts from falling out, another stare dumbly at their dismembered legs, but out of all these suffering men, one still stands. His armour is rattled with holes in which blood pours out of, he is missing his right arm whilst his left holds his Jian tightly. Its hilt is decorated with gold and symbols but its shining brilliance is covered in blood. The man's face is the manifestation of the word Prince. A high jawline, sharp eyes, and high cheeks, he creates a dashing visage. A visage that destroyed by a missing eye, deep cuts at his cheeks, and dishevelled raven black hair.
A loud BANG rings across the battlefield as the man chokes on his own blood and falls, the newly open hole in his throat killing him. Then a woman appears through all the fire and smoke that dots all over the field.
She wears a black trenchcoat with six golden buttons and a belt at her waist. Her resplendent red cape sways brilliantly in the wind and creates a nice contrast with the rest of her attire. She wears baggy pants fitted with golden circular kneecaps that are right above her golden boots. Her gloved hand wields a katana with a yellow hilt and a red edge that shines magnificently despite all the smoke. The peaked cap she wears follows the red, black, and gold colour of her attire. At the front of the peaked cap is the golden symbol of a flower of her clan. Her smooth pale face, sharp chin and nose, and long flowing pitch-black hair give her a beauty that all men will sing. Her piercing red eyes observe the battlefield as she summons an arquebusier to her free hand and pulls the trigger. Another man screams in agony before petering out.
An entourage of men in distinctive lamellar armour comes up behind her. They have unique golden symbols on their armour to denote the noble house that they're from. These men walked shakingly behind the woman and quiver in fear. The sight they see right now is a sight no one in this world has ever seen, what they see is not the aftermath of a great battle but of systematic slaughter. One man in orange Lamellar armour approaches the woman and speaks reverently and fearfully
"To destroy the army of the Five Princes Coalition is...I have no words"
The woman speaks, her tone dripping with satisfaction, "Then save your breath Pol Qo and enjoy the view. Think of this splendid sight as a generous gift from your new emperor"
"Nothing we have can match the might of the weapons you wield"
"And your men will wield them soon enough, this will be the first of many battles for conquest."
"So that means you really are going through with it, even if you have no claim to the throne"
"Tell me General, is it claims and bloodlines that unites a people or the might of arms?"
"Might of arms will not unite a people, you're just forcing them into submission if you try"
"Wrong, General, and I thought you were smarter than that." She fakes cough before explaining "might of arms gives people fear and security. The greater the might of arms, the more they fear its power, but also the safer they feel from internal and external threats. I will give the people of Yi Ti that safety and stabilize this decadant realm"
"And if they don't see what you see, if they revolt? what then?
The Woman snorts derisively at that "Oh, no worries General, even if the people revolt under my new rule I will certainly not be deposed, I have my own way of dealing with rebels after all. But it's not like they would revolt in the first place. Innovation is the key to prosperity you see, and I'll innovate this land out of its stagnant state. Under my reign, there will be many changes, my policies will progress this nation from sluggish stagnation and will become an ascendant modern empire. My new subjects will hunger no more, nor will they fear the basilisks of the jungle, and the pinhead Jogos nai in the north, they will be content and there will be no revolts."
"You will rule all of Yi Ti with your progressive policies then? bring prosperity after millennia of schemes and suffering? Be the messiah of our people and save us from our decadence? Don't be silly, This isn't some fairytale where everything will go your way "
A twisted grin appears on her pale face " Oh how narrow minded of you general, what I'm giving you is much more magical than fairytales. And besides...Who said I plan on conquering just the Yi Ti?"
The men around freezes in shock at her statement, to have the ambition to conquer all of Yi Ti is crazy enough, but to want more than that is just plain madness. It is made apparent to the men and Pol Qo that the woman in front of them is ungodly ambitious yet seems to have the power and the mind to back accomplish those ambitions.
"You truly are a Demon Emperor..."
"Only to my enemies general, only to my enemies. "
QM Note: Will edit out any grammatical errors in a bit.
Last edited:
Departure
Mathen57
Shotgun for a brain
- Location
- Jakarta, Indonesia
• [X] Jeanne D'Arc
Number of voters: 8
• [X] Explore this world a bit and learn more before doing anything too drastic ( write your vote on where to go and what she needs to learn about this world, she will immediately depart to the chosen location once the Dothrakis tells her where she is.) ( Wanderer's Route)
Number of voters: 6
• -[X] Yi Ti
No, you won't be some savage horselord leading even more savage barbarians to destroy the works of civilized men. That is why you won't stay with them for long, you'll be leaving to this Yi Ti and learn its customs and history and possibly scout out for any mages. You can't afford to be rash like last night no matter how good it felt because If the contemporary magi of this era catch wind of your existence, well it'd be very troublesome to say the least, especially if this era is during the Age of The Gods.
Well, none of that now, because right now is for sleep. You close your eyes and enter oblivion. The same kind of oblivion you experienced after the French singularity.
You dream of Fafnir.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You wake up to the smell of...wait a minute. You scramble out of your bed to inspect the source of that peculiar smell, and it is as you expected. The kid sports wet stains in his trousers and his bed is riddled with...it. With a sigh, you crouch down to the kid's bed as he looks at you innocently before quivering in fear. You raise your hand, and the kid outright shakes, fearing a beating from you. Your hand falls and splits apart the kid's chains, he looks at you dumbly as you give an unamused looked at him and point your thumb to the entrance. He scurries off, leaving you only in this room. Now that you have your privacy, you think its a good a time as any for a change.
You manifest your armour and your cape as it covers what you're previous clothing could not. Your cloak had a black and red gradient, giving the impression that it was previously burnt. Not only that but your hair shrinks to0, from ankle length to a more manageable shoulder length one. You then erase your ridiculous lance while still maintaining St.Catherine's existence, the sword still tied to your waist. Now you're ready to face the world, free from the lustful stares of men...and some women. Your face transforms into a rictus of disgust as you shudder at the memory of Brynhildr's passion and push it to the furthest depths of your mind.
With that out of the way you stepped into the central room, grabbed the scroll from the pot and turn to leave. You could hear the elation of the young child right outside the hut, seems like he's reunited with his family. Well looks like its time to go, you'd steal the gold in this tent, but you don't know where to keep it, it's not like there's huge pouches in your armour.
You leave the hut to be greeted to the sight of some tens of Dothraki at the ready and at the centre is the Khal and his wife. The sun is at its Apex, it seems like you've slept till noon, how embarrassing. The Khal you see is being supported by that elderly Dothraki companion of yours, as his knee is covered by a bloodied cloth; he seems to be doing fine. He and his wife stare balefully at you whilst their son is nowhere to be seen.
"Fin jif anha tat tat get yer elat? ( What should I do to get you to leave)" The Khal says imploringly.
You respond with a grin, " I need a horse, some supplies, and for someone to tell me where the hell I am."
Forzo nods in exasperation as he calls out instructions to his Dothraki men, two of them leave the group to presumably get the things you've demanded.
The Khal gestures at the scroll you're holding, and you comply, he opens it up to reveal the map of the two continents and points at a river. This time he doesn't speak, his wife interprets for him.
" We're north of the Volaena river, and if you take a boat South, you will be at Volantis. Travel north, and you will be at Qohor while the only landmark in the east is Vaes Dothrak, home of the Dothraki."
You grimace at that, you very far from Yi Ti.
"Thanks." You say.
Then one of the Dothraki men that left earlier comes back sprinting, he says something to Khal Forzo as his woman interprets for you. "Your horse and supplies are ready Jeanne d'Arc and I hope you are cursed with a dangerous journey."
You give her a weak smile, "lady I already am cursed."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You walk to the outskirts of the camp to see a horse ready for you, it seems like they honoured their promise as you see large saddlebags made of leather skin seemingly full of supplies. The Khal must really want you gone huh...
You jump up to the saddle of the horse and hold the reins, it neighs before calming down. It's been a while since I've ridden a horse, you reminisce, not since Orleans...that siege felt like it was aeons ago, from a life you've never lead but you still remember details like it was yesterday. You could almost hear the high admiration your men gave you, it's like they're still with you, calling out to you...
"Mi..La...dy"
Wait, that's not your memory speaking its someone else. You turn your head towards the Dothraki camp to see a blonde speck coming fast at you.
Oh, what is it now?
The blonde speck goes closer, its features growing more visible. You see caucasian features on the womanly face of the lady running towards you. Her blonde hair reaches down to her back and her large brown eyes look pleadingly at you. She wears a leather rag that diminishes the beauty of what would've been a pretty woman and her hair is dishevelled.
She pants and pants as she reaches you, desperately trying to breathe in air. Once she's recovered she looks at you with a determined look and speaks with the pitch of an alto.
"Take me with you, my lady, wherever you're going must be much better than this place."
Oh so that's what this is all about, "No"
"Thank yo--what!!?" She gives you an undignified and unladylike shout. " But I'm excellent in cookin--"
"You'd be deadweight" You interrupt, " I don't want to be babysitting some dumb blonde girl in the desert, besides don't you have someone here who'll miss you."
"No one will miss me, my lady, I'm just a slave who's also a handmaiden for the Khal's headmistress. "
"Even so what good are you to me?"
" I heard from the headmistress that you only speak the common tongue, I know Valyrian and Dothraki, and I can help interpret and teach you the languages in your travels."
"Well then, do you know Yi Tish?" The woman pauses, and her eyes widen.
" No, My lady, but I can learn."
"Then how usefu--"
She interrupts you with her overeager tone, it is insulting, but you'll allow it.
"Forgive me, my lady, but how are you gonna get to Yi Ti in the first place? If you take a boat in Volantis, you're going to need to know Valyrian, if you take the land route through Vaes Dothrak you're going to need to know how to speak Dothraki. My skills can help you save time in your journey and make it less troublesome. And I can fend for myself thank you very much."
"Have you ever wielded a sword? maybe even a dagger?"
"No, my lady."
"Have you ever fought someone before."
"Only with words, My lady." she says hesitantly
"Then you'll die"
"Well I'd rather die than live the life of a slave girl!" she shouts, drawing the attention of nearby Dothraki. "Comforting the men day in and day out, being at the mercy of that pervert Khal Forzo, and having his bloodriders do what they want with me isn't living at all!" My my how emotional this woman is, " I'd rather spend a day living in freedom out there than be the property of some savage horselord, please My lady, I beg of you! Take me with you!"
sigh...
What to do with the slave girl?
[] Take her with you, she might be worth babysitting if she could interpret and translate for you.
[] She's dead weight and another mouth to feed. too much trouble.
[] write in...
Which route will you take to Yi Ti?
[] Land route through Vaes Dothrak and into the bone mountains (Guaranteed long journery (at least a year), possible chance of being harassed by some Khalasars and the mountains are fraught with danger. )
[] Sea route from Volantis into Qarth and see where to go from there, (Possible chance of pirates and bad weather, and the Kraken is out there...somewhere... medium length journey, possibly 6-5 months)
[] Mixed Sea and Land route, Volantis to Mereen then the Bone mountains. ( Small chance of pirates and bad weather, Kraken is out there... and possible chance of meeting a certain Mother of Dragons...also dangerous mountains)
[] Write in...(I reserve the right to Veto.)
QM Note: And off we go!
Number of voters: 8
• [X] Explore this world a bit and learn more before doing anything too drastic ( write your vote on where to go and what she needs to learn about this world, she will immediately depart to the chosen location once the Dothrakis tells her where she is.) ( Wanderer's Route)
Number of voters: 6
• -[X] Yi Ti
No, you won't be some savage horselord leading even more savage barbarians to destroy the works of civilized men. That is why you won't stay with them for long, you'll be leaving to this Yi Ti and learn its customs and history and possibly scout out for any mages. You can't afford to be rash like last night no matter how good it felt because If the contemporary magi of this era catch wind of your existence, well it'd be very troublesome to say the least, especially if this era is during the Age of The Gods.
Well, none of that now, because right now is for sleep. You close your eyes and enter oblivion. The same kind of oblivion you experienced after the French singularity.
You dream of Fafnir.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You wake up to the smell of...wait a minute. You scramble out of your bed to inspect the source of that peculiar smell, and it is as you expected. The kid sports wet stains in his trousers and his bed is riddled with...it. With a sigh, you crouch down to the kid's bed as he looks at you innocently before quivering in fear. You raise your hand, and the kid outright shakes, fearing a beating from you. Your hand falls and splits apart the kid's chains, he looks at you dumbly as you give an unamused looked at him and point your thumb to the entrance. He scurries off, leaving you only in this room. Now that you have your privacy, you think its a good a time as any for a change.
You manifest your armour and your cape as it covers what you're previous clothing could not. Your cloak had a black and red gradient, giving the impression that it was previously burnt. Not only that but your hair shrinks to0, from ankle length to a more manageable shoulder length one. You then erase your ridiculous lance while still maintaining St.Catherine's existence, the sword still tied to your waist. Now you're ready to face the world, free from the lustful stares of men...and some women. Your face transforms into a rictus of disgust as you shudder at the memory of Brynhildr's passion and push it to the furthest depths of your mind.
With that out of the way you stepped into the central room, grabbed the scroll from the pot and turn to leave. You could hear the elation of the young child right outside the hut, seems like he's reunited with his family. Well looks like its time to go, you'd steal the gold in this tent, but you don't know where to keep it, it's not like there's huge pouches in your armour.
You leave the hut to be greeted to the sight of some tens of Dothraki at the ready and at the centre is the Khal and his wife. The sun is at its Apex, it seems like you've slept till noon, how embarrassing. The Khal you see is being supported by that elderly Dothraki companion of yours, as his knee is covered by a bloodied cloth; he seems to be doing fine. He and his wife stare balefully at you whilst their son is nowhere to be seen.
"Fin jif anha tat tat get yer elat? ( What should I do to get you to leave)" The Khal says imploringly.
You respond with a grin, " I need a horse, some supplies, and for someone to tell me where the hell I am."
Forzo nods in exasperation as he calls out instructions to his Dothraki men, two of them leave the group to presumably get the things you've demanded.
The Khal gestures at the scroll you're holding, and you comply, he opens it up to reveal the map of the two continents and points at a river. This time he doesn't speak, his wife interprets for him.
" We're north of the Volaena river, and if you take a boat South, you will be at Volantis. Travel north, and you will be at Qohor while the only landmark in the east is Vaes Dothrak, home of the Dothraki."
You grimace at that, you very far from Yi Ti.
"Thanks." You say.
Then one of the Dothraki men that left earlier comes back sprinting, he says something to Khal Forzo as his woman interprets for you. "Your horse and supplies are ready Jeanne d'Arc and I hope you are cursed with a dangerous journey."
You give her a weak smile, "lady I already am cursed."
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You walk to the outskirts of the camp to see a horse ready for you, it seems like they honoured their promise as you see large saddlebags made of leather skin seemingly full of supplies. The Khal must really want you gone huh...
You jump up to the saddle of the horse and hold the reins, it neighs before calming down. It's been a while since I've ridden a horse, you reminisce, not since Orleans...that siege felt like it was aeons ago, from a life you've never lead but you still remember details like it was yesterday. You could almost hear the high admiration your men gave you, it's like they're still with you, calling out to you...
"Mi..La...dy"
Wait, that's not your memory speaking its someone else. You turn your head towards the Dothraki camp to see a blonde speck coming fast at you.
Oh, what is it now?
The blonde speck goes closer, its features growing more visible. You see caucasian features on the womanly face of the lady running towards you. Her blonde hair reaches down to her back and her large brown eyes look pleadingly at you. She wears a leather rag that diminishes the beauty of what would've been a pretty woman and her hair is dishevelled.
She pants and pants as she reaches you, desperately trying to breathe in air. Once she's recovered she looks at you with a determined look and speaks with the pitch of an alto.
"Take me with you, my lady, wherever you're going must be much better than this place."
Oh so that's what this is all about, "No"
"Thank yo--what!!?" She gives you an undignified and unladylike shout. " But I'm excellent in cookin--"
"You'd be deadweight" You interrupt, " I don't want to be babysitting some dumb blonde girl in the desert, besides don't you have someone here who'll miss you."
"No one will miss me, my lady, I'm just a slave who's also a handmaiden for the Khal's headmistress. "
"Even so what good are you to me?"
" I heard from the headmistress that you only speak the common tongue, I know Valyrian and Dothraki, and I can help interpret and teach you the languages in your travels."
"Well then, do you know Yi Tish?" The woman pauses, and her eyes widen.
" No, My lady, but I can learn."
"Then how usefu--"
She interrupts you with her overeager tone, it is insulting, but you'll allow it.
"Forgive me, my lady, but how are you gonna get to Yi Ti in the first place? If you take a boat in Volantis, you're going to need to know Valyrian, if you take the land route through Vaes Dothrak you're going to need to know how to speak Dothraki. My skills can help you save time in your journey and make it less troublesome. And I can fend for myself thank you very much."
"Have you ever wielded a sword? maybe even a dagger?"
"No, my lady."
"Have you ever fought someone before."
"Only with words, My lady." she says hesitantly
"Then you'll die"
"Well I'd rather die than live the life of a slave girl!" she shouts, drawing the attention of nearby Dothraki. "Comforting the men day in and day out, being at the mercy of that pervert Khal Forzo, and having his bloodriders do what they want with me isn't living at all!" My my how emotional this woman is, " I'd rather spend a day living in freedom out there than be the property of some savage horselord, please My lady, I beg of you! Take me with you!"
sigh...
What to do with the slave girl?
[] Take her with you, she might be worth babysitting if she could interpret and translate for you.
[] She's dead weight and another mouth to feed. too much trouble.
[] write in...
Which route will you take to Yi Ti?
[] Land route through Vaes Dothrak and into the bone mountains (Guaranteed long journery (at least a year), possible chance of being harassed by some Khalasars and the mountains are fraught with danger. )
[] Sea route from Volantis into Qarth and see where to go from there, (Possible chance of pirates and bad weather, and the Kraken is out there...somewhere... medium length journey, possibly 6-5 months)
[] Mixed Sea and Land route, Volantis to Mereen then the Bone mountains. ( Small chance of pirates and bad weather, Kraken is out there... and possible chance of meeting a certain Mother of Dragons...also dangerous mountains)
[] Write in...(I reserve the right to Veto.)
QM Note: And off we go!
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