I mean, the thing is some third circles will just charm the whole city due to the fact they are ... just so THEM. Ligier is Magnificent, while Eremrour is well EREMBOUR .. FUCK if we summon her she can't be put to sleep by the Sun because SOL ISN'T HERE.
I mean, the thing is some third circles will just charm the whole city due to the fact they are ... just so THEM. Ligier is Magnificent, while Eremrour is well EREMBOUR .. FUCK if we summon her she can't be put to sleep by the Sun because SOL ISN'T HERE.
It may cause us problems, but I am sure that it will cause the people we dislike far more of them. Dropping Ligier on the Dark Elves could easily end their society.
Fuvor, A slight bronze skinned man, almost with the look of the south to him were it not for hair alternating in bands of white and blue, like the sun with clouds. The lines of the Elemental dragons are thin upon his cheeks and brow, a thing for which he has been mocked before, but they are brilliant sapphire than glows brilliantly when his anima is roused, like cracks in ice
Nokun Square, that is the first thought that comes to mind when one looks at Nokun and not just the width of her shoulders, her face seems to have been carved from granite by a sculptor of very geometric inclination. Her eyes are silver or gold depending on the angle in which they are seen and her aspect markings shift in counterpoint so one can never see her eyes and her markings match, a fact which won her several drinking games in her youth against Air Aspects who were sure they could 'get the right angle'
Flaris A face of an unusual cast and almost oak-y brow complexion inherited from an ancestor who hailed from much further east than the Scavenger Lands, Flaris also sports bright red hair that subtly moves on its own. Once it used to resemble a lion's mane, but decades of military service have gotten it to... mostly behave, though every time he fully unleashes his anima if get sup to its old tricks for a few hours
Milosen Such is the pallor of Milosen that one at times mistakes some of the veins seeming blue for part of his Aspect Markings. Were it not for the obvious vitality and connection to the natural world that marks all dragon-blooded one might mistake her for having drowned. Eyes pale as fish scales make the brown of her hair the only color to her mien
And her hair is not brown, but maroon. Apologies if that seems restrictive when I just said "go ahead," but I didn't want to contradict details I already established in the story.
Songbird Tall and graceful with skin of bright jade and markings in brown and black Songbird is an inversion of the common wood-aspect coloring. Her eyes are yellow and black, like sunflower and the seed it ears
You could also argue that her eye color would be the same as wasps, an interesting color choice.
Over all from what I can see, you definitely lean harder on the inhuman side of the Dragon-Blooded spectrum, with their elemental traits really standing out, which is pretty interesting. Most people I've spoken to on DBs in general prefer much fainter, lighter traits for their characters. A few years ago, I tried my best to give a sort of chart approximating what Dragon-Blooded of varying ages and Essence could look like. That chart could definitely stand to use some revision, but I think it's a decent enough balance between "Looks just like a normal person" and "Are we sure that's a human anymore."
Winning Plan: Walls, Workings and Ways of the Enemy
[X] Plan Walls, Workings, and Ways of the Enemy
-[X] You will not stress yourself too much.
-[X] You will ration your current supplies (-0.5 per turn)
-[X][Martial][LOCKED] Protecting the Flock 1 (DC 10+)
--[X] Fight by yourself (-1 Personal Action, Frees up 1 Martial Action)
--[X] Take Prisoners (Inflicts -20 to roll, but will take up to (Size - 1) prisoners if successful, minimum Size 1).
-[X][Martial][LOCKED] Protecting the Flock 2 (DC 40+)
--[X] Bejeweled Eidolon Army (Size 5, Quality 1, Might 1 = +32?)
--[X] Assign Flaris (Hero, +12, Applies Flaming Weapons)
-[X][Martial] Raise Earthen Walls (DC 20/30/40)(SORCEROUS)
--[X] SPECIAL: Nokun (Ramparts of Obedient Earth)(Hero; +20)
-[X][Diplomacy][LOCKED] Organize the Festival of Funerals (DC 40+)
-[X][Diplomacy] Raise Spirits (DC 40+)
-[X][Stewardship] Tent Crafting (DC 20)
-[X][Stewardship] Draw Freshwater (DC 15/25/35)(SORCEROUS)
--[X] Assigned Sorcerer: Abioye (Hero; +6)
--[X] Done once so far (including this time)
-[X][Intrigue][LOCKED] The Pangu Opening (DC 40/60)(Costs No Action)
--[X] Assign Fuvor (Hero, +7)
-[X][Intrigue] Scouting Ahead (Variable)
--[X] In General (DC 20)
-[X][Intrigue] Scouting Ahead
--[X] At the Settlement (DC 30)
-[X][Piety] On the Fount (No Roll)
-[X][Piety] Ask the Earth Elementals for help (DC 10+)
--[X] +20 to Ground Survey
-[X][Learning] Know Thy Enemy
--[X] The Point-Ears (DC 40+)
-[X][Learning] Mobile Lodestone (DC 30/40/50)
--[X] Assigned Sorcerer: Your Students (Hero; +7; +20 DC for 10/100 Miles)
-[X][Mining] Ground Survey (DC 60)
--[X] Assign Rising Dawn (Hero, +11, -10 DC)
-[X][Mining] Set Up Smitheries (DC 50+)(CONSUMES 1 LUMBER OR STONE)
-[X][Personal] Summon a Demon! (Variable)
--[X] Second Circle (DC 60)
---[X] Sondok, She-Who-Stands-In-Doorways
These three months would prove to be a breaking point, both for you and your people. Thankfully, you were able to recover somewhat thanks to the expertise of your advisors, but the illusion of invulnerability, while not present, could never be now. Your people knew that you were a fallible individual capable of making less than sound decisions, and they would remember it. Yet, everything was far from lost. You still secured your people's physical safety, and had made good progress on satiating their physical needs.
It was just the spiritual side which worried you more.
Your minor exhaustion from the previous season would end up taking a far larger toll than you expected, with the mood swings you suffered being particularly awful. Part of it had to be because you yourself had not really reconciled with your situation. A small shard of your heart continued to whisper that reclaiming Uluiru was possible, that you should have stayed to fight, stayed to die. All of these feelings and more manifested to you, but only after your darkest hour.
Author's Note: The timeline here is a bit scuffed for this turn. Essentially, assume that Protecting the Flock 1 (Martial) is first, then the Festival of Funerals (Diplomacy), and then everything else falls into a relative order behind them.
Martial Actions
-[X][Martial][LOCKED] Protecting the Flock 1 (DC 10+)
--[X] Fight by yourself (-1 Personal Action, Frees up 1 Martial Action)
--[X] Take Prisoners (Inflicts -20 to roll, but will take up to (Size - 1) prisoners if successful, minimum Size 1).
Roll bonus: 12 (Gwai's Martial) + 16 (Sango's Combat) - 20 (Taking Prisoners) = +8
Result: 37 + 8 = 45, Success!
About a week into the fourth month of your stay in this land, you had taken a moment of rest from your responsibilities as a leader by joining your troops on a patrol. For most, it would be an odd way to relax, but at the moment, you just needed to be doing something physically to alleviate the stress on your mind. Most of the patrol went off without an issue, but during one last sweep of the area, your group stumbled upon an enemy force trying to sneak its way in.
Well, "force" was perhaps exaggerating matters. It was 10 nearly naked humanoids bearing helmets, weapons and whip scars all stumbling in various directions. Behind them, just as confused, were two more of the pointed-ears, wearing little themselves and carrying whips in their hands. Despite the disorientation inflicted by the cloaking field, they somehow managed to spot you, and with a finger in your (general) direction, they called out an order in their strange tongue, and the helmeted humanoids paused, before trying to obey.
You say try, because they obviously weren't making a good attempt. These were not trained soldiers, they were barely combatants. You walked towards them, calling out to the soldiers marching behind you "I will handle this. Stay there, for now." Your soldiers obeyed, though even with your back turned to them, you doubted that the command would be a popular one.
One of the slaves, that had to be what they were, had a small burst of courage and charged towards you with their spear. You simply stood still, waiting until the last moment to strike. When the spearhead was within less than an arm's length from your heart, your left hand intervened. It took the slave a moment to realize that their weapon would not budge, not with the pointed tip clutched in your fist. Once the adrenaline wore off, they let go of the weapon, inching away backwards before turning around fully to run.
One of the overseers saw this, and with a flash of her whip she scourged the fleeing space's back, knocking them down to the earth from the force of the lash. You could not stop the scowl which twisted your face. Before the mistress could send her barbed tip into the poor servant's back, you flipped the spear in your hand around and raised its head up into the sky. With an inhuman strength, you pushed outward and downward with your Essence through the weapon, carrying its edge through the air towards the falling whip. With a SNAP, the whip was cut in two, sparing the slave from further pain.
The cowering humanoid stilled when they heard the sound and felt no pain, cautiously looking up to see their mistress disarmed. The point-ear, in turn, looked down in shock at the sight, and it was enough of a distraction for you to get close enough to hurt. Your fist buried itself in her gut, a great explosion from the area ready to be unleashed, but with your masterful control you chained the thunder down just for a second. Enough time for you to twist around, aiming the first overseer at her co-conspirator. Only then did you release, sending the mutant flying through the air and bowling over her ally into a heap on the ground. They both tried to get up, but the point of your newly acquired spear at their throats dissuaded them.
Behind you, the other slaves, seeing this display, as well as your emerging guard patrol from the confusion field, just dropped their weapons and raised their arms in surrender. You would need to assign them a different tent, far from your other prisoners. You doubted that they would want to see more of those familiar faces.
Enemy "force" defeated, all combatants have been captured! Sango is unharmed!
Flaris, formerly of Gens Karal, had experienced a fair number of strange battles in his life. From beastmen to summoned demons to the Raksha, situations that boggled the mind were not unheard of for him. Still, commanding an army of faceless gem-people was certainly something new.
To his side, his designated superior "Thousand-Hours" Gwai turned the light of his Anima Banner into a physical crystal, which he then carefully molded into a human shape before sending the "eidolon" off to join the other hundreds of combatants. To see an army be literally molded into shape before his eyes was a disturbing one. He was aware that Exigents, being created of the unlawful union of man and god, could possess a number of strange powers, but this was frightening in its scope. Why bother recruiting mortals to die with agony-fueled screams when you could just whip up an army of constructs that felt no pain and made little sound?
The only advantage he could see that humans had over these "eidolons" was that the blocky golems couldn't hold weapons in their handless arms. That meant they would be of poor use at range since they couldn't hold bows, but it was a cold comfort to the experienced general. And besides, it was only the quickly-formed constructs that had that disadvantage. He glanced back over to the Minister of War, who had an eye-catching attendant at his side.
To compare the smooth crystalline figure to the eidolons that were being created now was an insult. The figure was almost human in appearance, only the material he (and it WAS a he) was made from betraying his inhuman nature. He wore a fitted suit of plate armor and a greatsword, both made from the same glass material which he was created from. His prickly beard (a beard! Why would you waste time molding the beard?!) seemed less like quartz patches and more like tiny ice crystals created from the winter morning chill. Overall, this was not some golem built in a day. This was a person shaped from glass and given life, and that thought created some unspeakable fear in his mind.
"Did you need something?" asked the construct. He quickly looked away back at the forming gem army, not realizing he had been staring so much at the figure.
"Something wrong, Tiodara?" asked Gwai, presumably to the eidolon. Tiodara, short for the ridiculous name of Tiodaralopolopo. It was an absurd thing to hear, the dumbest sounding name he had heard in this life, thought Flaris of Gens Karal of Lookshy.
"Nothing, sir, just thought that the general had a question." And now his superior was looking his way. Great, just what he needed. Could the enemy not be considerate enough to attack right now?
As if answering his prayers, the loosing of a bolt from a ballista from the large black ship off the coast signaled an attack. Its ammunition only touched a small corner of the larger eidolon force, but it was still enough to crush some of the gem soldiers into shards. Immediately, Flaris took command of the situation. With Gwai busy creating more soldiers, it was up to him to direct these constructs towards victory.
"SOLDIERS, AT ARMS!" He shouted. Immediately, the constructs raised the stumps of their arms in a brawling stance. Right, no hands, limb combat it was then. With the eidolons at the ready, Flaris looked back at the approaching enemy force. From the ship were several rowboats containing what had to be soldiers. Each enemy fighter had fitted plate armor across their body, with open-faced finned helmets, calling to mind fish fins, protecting the head. Each bore in their hands either two sabers or a saber and a crossbow, making them a mixed force of melee and ranged infantry. Despite the disorientation they were visibly feeling from the king's field, they were still trained well enough to assume two perfect formations. These were well-trained soldiers, skilled enough to partially overcome the sorcerous confusion.
Taking in a deep breath, Flaris stoked the inner fire which burned inside of his chest. With an exhale, he breathed the resulting flame over the entire eidolon force, which washed over them, inflicting no harm but instead sticking to their limbs. Hopefully that would be enough to give them an edge. The enemy marched closer to their position, though still in an odd direction. They must not have realized that their sense of direction was so off.
Pulling out his Red Jade Daiklave, the former (and now current) General gave the order. "CHARGE!"
Enemy force of Black Arc Corsairs defeated! Since the Eidolon army are just constructs, the injuries they would have suffered are meaningless. Still, the toll they took on Gwai was a heavy one, and he must rest: They cannot be used on Turn 3.
Flaris is still available as a hero unit on Turn 3.
The enemies have lost their rowboats, which you have gained. They are currently being used as Fishing Boats, providing a chance of fulfilling 1/5 of the food needs of your people each turn. If you find other ways to gain enough food, you can repurpose them for something else.
-[X][Martial] Raise Earthen Walls (DC 20/30/40)(SORCEROUS)
--[X] SPECIAL: Nokun (Ramparts of Obedient Earth)(Hero; +20)
Roll bonus: 12 (Gwai's Martial) + 10 (Nokun Martial) + 10 (Earthen Wall Bonus) = +32
Result: 65 + 32 = 97, Notable Success on top of making the 3rd threshold!
On the Blessed Isle, some of the peasantry imagined that the Princes of the Earth could do just about anything. It was a pleasant illusion which helped to maintain the divinely-appointed hierarchy of dragon to dragon-blooded to human, etc. After all, what mortal could leap the same heights as the Dragon-Blooded do, fire up the hearts of individuals as the Dragon-Blooded do, cure wounds and diseases as the Dragon-Blooded do? Yes, there might be a mortal here and there who could do one of those things, but none could do multiple miracles of such a scale as the Princes of the Earth can.
Still, that illusion had its drawbacks. Such as how many mortals depended on Nokun to ensure their safety, praying that she could banish all of the dangers they faced with a flick of her hand. Oh, if only she was that powerful. To just… vanish away her problems with the blink of an eye. It was a temptation that tugged on her mind like a gentle hand pulling a string on her shirt. Just a little here, just a little there, look for the power you SEEK. And that was how the Anathema got you.
That was how she got where she was now.
Working for a gold Anathema, stuck alongside that dishonorable cur Flaris, subordinate to an Exigent, trapped in a strange world not their own. Oh, the people said amongst themselves that they were just in a strange part of the Wyld, it was alright. That the shifting Green Moon, a blasphemy greater than any other, was just an illusion on the mind. That the green light it shone down was nothing more than some Wyld oddity.
Bullshit. That thing was a monstrosity that could never exist in Creation. The Dragons and the Gods would never allow such a monstrosity to remain intact if they were present. And here it was, as large a star as any. Her hot grimace of disgust turned cold as the logical 2 + 2 invariably equaled 4 in her mind. If that moon still existed, then that meant the Dragons nor the Gods were around to deal with it. Which either meant that both were dead, an utter impossibility, or they were on some other world where neither were present.
That second theory made sense in her head. After all, they had been captured by a portal through the most insane parts of the Wyld and ended up here. The Wyld was known to lead to strange places already, who was to say that a new world wasn't one of them? Yet, she never voiced her theories out loud, both because she could be wrong and because no one would believe her anyway. She was a soldier, she wasn't one for higher education, and no doubt people would put little stock into her words.
So, she kept quiet, and did her job. That job being the creation of earthen walls around this place they were planning to call a "city." As if over a thousand people living in tents deserved to be called such, but then again, she was currently living in a tent as well, so what did she know? What she knew was that she couldn't just summon up dirt walls and call it a day. Not only would that be lazy, it wouldn't actually last long-term. Most people, most Exalted even, didn't know that the walls of stone that the Princes of the Earth could conjure during battles were supposed to be temporary embarkments. As soon as one's Essence left the structure, it fell apart back into natural dirt. Making anything permanent with the ability required three things: A large amount of time, natural shaping ability, and stone.
The last part was solved by "recruiting" some soldiers away from their training time to dig up trenches where the walls were supposed to be. By removing the top soil in those areas, it would be easier for her to pull up the actual rock down below rather than just more dirt. It also helped her pre-plan where she wanted the walls to be, giving her a mold of sorts for the construction effort. Once she had one side sectioned off, she had the soldiers move onto another section and she began her phase of the work.
The issue with calling up stone like this was that it was far more difficult to shape into the right arrangements compared to dirt. It meant that her plans to put parapets on the top wouldn't work, instead just having a simple knee high wall along the top edge to prevent simply falling over. Terrible in regards to protection, but it was better than nothing. And though the shape was outright basic, with the ditches in place to guide her hand, the walls she could tug out from beneath the surface were wide enough to allow two men to walk across it, side-by-side. The height was only okay, at a man-and-a-half in height, but it was still serviceable for something she had only a few months to build. At the very least, with how thick the structure was, this was not a wall that would fall easily.
She probably could have just done a simple box design, with the coast serving as one of the four sides, but it was more easily defensible (and more respectful to the 5 Dragons) to have 4 walled sides. In place of Danaa'd's wall was the shoreline which she hopefully would not need to create stoneworks for in the future. Nokun was not one for the water, and hopefully this Anathema she was now working for realized that!
New Uluiru is now protected by 4 stonewalls, thick in width but not so great in height. Due to the Notable Success, they will be able to protect more than just the immediate homestead, but also your future mine site as well! (See Mining Actions) The benefits of these walls won't apply to normal combat encounters, but will have a great effect on mini-turns. You will still need to construct some sort of defense in the ocean, if you don't want to capture and control the Watchtowers.
Diplomacy Actions
-[X][Diplomacy][LOCKED] Organize the Festival of Funerals (DC 40+)
Roll Bonus: 11 (Fumnanya's Diplomacy) + 10 (Bare Failure) = +21
Action DC: 40
Result: 3... With the +2 threshold from last turn's overwork, that's a Critical Fail. Limit Break time!
Twas the night before the Festival of Funerals was set to begin, and your great-grandniece was panicking. She would never admit to doing so in public, putting on a brave face just as she always did. In front of your people, she was all smiles and confidence, yet, as you wait outside of her tent, hearing the confessions coming from within its cloth walls, you became increasingly aware that such confidence was just a mask to hide the worries within.
"I just… I'm just scared that everything's going to go wrong, Famora." You heard her say, swaddled in the arms of her personal assistant. Though she never gave any indication of it to others, it seemed like the crystal-adorned woman was more of a… like an infant's blanket for the girl than it first appeared. A thing of comfort. Perhaps even a mother. Famora was usually quite cold in her demeanor from your very limited experience with the servant, yet the words she spoke were said with a small warmth to them.
"It will be alright, Nanya." Was that a nickname?"No one will mind if things are not perfect-"
"But I will care! This is supposed to be my first big assignment as a Minister! I can't screw it up, but I just know that it's going to go wrong. The music's not finished, I'm not sure if we're going to have enough food ready with the rationing orders the king's given, it's all going to be a mess!"
Your grandniece's worries strike a chord in your soul. You had been dealing with your own trouble, the stresses of being the ruler of an exiled nation, with everyone fearing the end of the food supply, the end of their culture, the end of their lives. So many different things which they feared, and as the king it was your job to solve them. Yet, hearing your grandniece spew out her misgivings for this upcoming event… it struck an odd mood in you. Here you have been, doing your best to help random strangers as if they were family, yet your own flesh and blood was being disregarded and left to fend for themselves? What obligation did a nation make, when you couldn't even protect those closest to you? How could you sit by when the youngest of your family, those precious few still alive, was hurting so much?
Your mind tunes out Famora's reassurances, Fumnanya's further releasing of stress by talking her fears out. You didn't need to hear more. You had a problem in front of you, and sometimes, the quickest path was the right one. If Fumnanya was so worried about the Festival, then the easiest solution prostrated itself before you.
Just cancel it.
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty?" said the nervous planner of the festival, staring down his king, dark brown eyes meeting irate gold.
"Cancel the Festival. All of it." The Order was given once again, and this time the planner could not feign confusion to gain clarity. This… this was absurd! This was madness!
"Your Majesty, we have spent the past 3 months setting up this Festival!" came the aghast reply, the planner's jaw agape. "So much of not just our team's hopes and dreams have been invested into it, but the entire nation's as well! WE HAVE BEEN ADVERTISING THIS EVENT FOR WEEKS NOW!"
"You have been advertising a national day for crying and moaning about a land that will never be ours again," said the cold voice of his ruler. "What help does this do for the people? To wallow in the misery of things when danger is constantly at our door? How is a mere festival supposed to improve anyone's mood when too many are wondering how long they will remain half-starved while we desperately try to find even an iota of fertile soil?!"
With a scoff and a spit, the king turns his back on the planner. "This party of yours is pointless. Better to be rid of it for something more useful."
As the ruler of the land walked off, the festival planner looked at his fading back, his shock slowly turning to disgust. How dare he? How dare this man, who still had family members to speak with, deny the people who had no one the smallest alms? People like him, who lost his wife and children in the Fair Folk invasion, people who were just barely hanging on by a thread! His own saliva joined the spot where the king's had landed as the planner turned away to carry out the king's orders.
It is now the morning after, and you feel great. For the first time in many months, you woke up without a headache or any pain in your body. For the first time in what seemed like forever, you are at peace. At this moment, all of the burdens placed upon your shoulders have been lifted. Your thoughts are clear, your stomach only mildly complains about hunger, you feel more alive than you ever have been.
Thus, it is quite rude of Gwai to suddenly march into your tent, disturbing this amazing feeling of satisfaction, and get into your face. "Sango. What. Did you. Do."
…You might have miscalculated a little.
Everyone is pissed that you canceled one of the most important events for your people, particularly at the last minute. Peasant Opinion and Noble Opinion both decrease by 1 (3/10 -> 2/10; 5/10 -> 4/10 respectively).
Because no one was able to make a clean break in a healthy manner, a feeling of longing for the old nation has started to crystalize…
You will admit, you messed up. Though you will not take back an order of yours once given so easily, that didn't mean you couldn't try to run damage control, both with your people and with Fumnanya. Your Minister (because you doubted that she wanted to be familial with you at the moment) had been rightfully insulted that you didn't trust her to do anything important, much like her own parents had viewed her before she proved herself worthy of Exaltation. As much of a socialite as the girl was, that didn't mean she liked being treated like a mushroom.
That is to say, being kept in the dark and fed feces.
So, hoping to give her a new task to do to make up for the lack of trust last time, you assign her to the job you had already gotten half-done: That of the musicians. They were still churning out the most depressing material imaginable, and at this point you didn't know if you had what it takes to turn that avalanche of sorrow around. Your grandniece… still wasn't happy to be given a job you had already worked on, but she said nothing to your face about it.
And, her determination to prove herself apparently paid off. Within a month's time, there were musicians in every corner of the homestead, playing songs filled with wonder and joy about the new possibilities this world brought with it. It was like the cork of depression had been pulled out of their bottles, letting the wine of linguistic prowess flow forth. And with how magical your musician's depression had been, it shouldn't have surprised you how miraculous their hope was too.
Just as before, the music sheets were "tainted," but instead of being drenched in bleakness and despair, they had been soaked in happiness and imagination. They practically glowed with pure positivity, and at this point you were starting to question where all of this prime magical material was coming from. You knew that songs could be used to work magic, or be enchanted, but you nor any Exalt to your knowledge had been involved with this process. Slumbering Star hadn't been, or else she would have taken the credit for making it happen. So how exactly were these magical pages just… being made?
Was this the result of leyline convergence? Of the Wyld still tainting your land in subtler ways? Or was it… the work of a god?
+1 to Peasant and Noble Opinion from the wonderful music! (2/10 -> 3/10, 4/10 -> 5/10 respectively).
Unlocked Diplomacy Action (Working): The Hope of a City
Unlocked Mining Action (Artifact): The Clarion Trumpet of Peace
Unlocked Mining Action (Artifact): The Twin Horns of the Heart
These 3 actions are mutually exclusive.
Unlocked Learning Action: The Music From Our Hearts
Before you ask, no, this isn't your Piety Bonus Roll effect. I planned (part of) this out beforehand.
When you had last checked in on your weavers in the fifth month (the second month of this season) of your stay in this land, you were told to not expect results for a while. That complications arose which prevented the tents you had commissioned the weavers to make from being done on time. Then, you had simply shrugged off the apologies, understanding that not everything could be perfect, even if you would have liked results sooner.
Thus, it was to some confusion on your part when a messenger came to your tent, letting you know that the first part of the tent order had been completed. What? Since when? You hurried over to where the weavers congregated together, and there, one of them explained a new idea they had. One that came to them in… a strange dream?
"A fish?" You asked, not sure you heard what she said correctly, but she nodded.
"Yes, a fish, and in the dream while I was a fish I was caught by some humans-"
The story went on for a while like that. All that really mattered was that it gave the young woman an idea that made the process of tent making go by smoother than it had before... somehow. You still weren't sure what exactly that had to do anything, but it apparently improved something! Thus, you got your tents on time, at least in part.
+1 Housing gained! 4 more Housing needed to cover the rest of your people.
-[X][Stewardship] Draw Freshwater (DC 15/25/35)(SORCEROUS)
--[X] Assigned Sorcerer: Abioye (Hero; +6)
Roll Bonus: 12 (Milosen's Stewardship) + 6 (Abioye's Learning) = 18
DC 15/25/35
Result: 28 + 18 = 46, 3rd Threshold Success! Abioye creates a pool of freshwater which is fed by underground channels which filter out the saltwater from the ocean. Thanks to your ongoing Wyld Cleansing Working, it's also Chaos Taint free!
There are many desires inherent to humanity. Love and lust, greed and envy, yet those emotions paled sometimes to the most base, animalistic urges. The need for safety. The need for air. The need for food. And in this case, the need for water.
Abioye was well experienced in satisfying the desires of others, but to do that, she needed to understand that desire for herself. She could not help alleviate a need if she had no experience with the need herself. Thus, while she sometimes lived out the stereotype of the Emeralds being hedonists and moneychangers, at other times she forced herself into total fasting. Denying herself not just vices, but things in general in order to best be in tune with others. It was that occasional ascetism which gave her the breakthrough she needed to unlock the aptly named Emerald Circle, as well as her first spell.
Raising up her left palm, the open mouth on it drawing further agape, she concentrated on her task. She recalled the feeling of being thirsty, of total dehydration. She remembered how it felt to be so weak from heat exhaustion that she had barely any strength in her body. She remembered that NEED for water, and she channeled it into her spell now. Normally, this was done to fully activate the Thirsting Maw, but now, she turned it towards more wholesome ends.
With a tug of her left hand, the mouth sucking in a great deal of air, a rumble began to shake the earth around her. After a few second of quaking, the ground split in twain, releasing a torrent of freshwater from beneath the surface. She smiled and walked up to the small fountain, leaning her head in to taste the fresh liquid.
After all, it was her work. Why couldn't she enjoy herself a little once it was done?
A source of freshwater has been created, providing 1/5 of the water your people need to survive.
In light of her spell synergy (which I really should have considered beforehand), in the future when assigned to this task, Abioye gets a +10 bonus to fulfilling it.
2nd Author's Note: Part 1 of our results for Turn 2. I hope I managed to capture the effects of the Limit Break in a believable manner. Sure, it's not a great rage to shake the heavens, but I think how subdued it is helps to convey the feelings better. At least, that's my hope.
If you have any questions, as always let me know. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to grab some dinner.
In light of her spell synergy (which I really should have considered beforehand), in the future when assigned to this task, Abioye gets a +10 bonus to fulfilling it.
…I really hope somebody sits on us next time.
Let's never overwork. It's not worth it.
Any ideas on what we can do to handle the morale problem?
We can't do a festival again, probably. Maybe a memorial?
Or we could host a festival part 2 and make a public apology? How much would we ruin our authority?
Edit: how does Uluiru handle leadership error? Would public apology be shameful, or something closer to expected?
We can't do a festival again, probably. Maybe a memorial?
Or we could host a festival part 2 and make a public apology? How much would we ruin our authority?
No to the festival, but there will be other opportunities to raise Opinion. Generally, Opinion will be easier to raise the lower it is, and the more successful your other actions are.
Agreed entirely. We had to on turn 1 (we had two truly urgent Workings and nobody else to do them, plus picking Advisors), but we don't have to any more, not the vast majority of the time, anyway.
Any ideas on what we can do to handle the morale problem?
We can't do a festival again, probably. Maybe a memorial?
Or we could host a festival part 2 and make a public apology? How much would we ruin our authority?
The math is ugly. We have a 16.6% chance of crit failing on normal turns, but even a single overwork raises that to 19.1% on the turn it's done (manageable), and something like 37.4% on the next (not so manageable). With good advisors, which we have, an extra action is not usually worth that.
Like, we're getting maybe a 6% increase in number of actions (we already get 16, so it's a 17th one) in exchange for a greater than 20% increase in the odds of critical failure. That's just a bad exchange rate unless we desperately need a third action only Sango can perform for some reason like we did the first turn.
...Here's an idea, a proposal of sorts. Crit Fails will provide some opportunity for growth for Sango (or theoretically someone else), allowing them to improve. However, I do want a limiting factor on the idea, so the more you overwork, the less gain you would get for a crit fail, to balance out the worse odds (represented in IC by being so exhausted that they don't internalize the lesson as well). For example, since you only overworked once here, you would get a bigger bonus than if you had done so 3 times.
I still think that you should embrace the risk, but not treat it as a source of free goodies when its supposed to be bad.
Honestly, I don't know. There will be an anniversary celebration on Turn 5, so there's something at least, but I don't know enough about Creation's holidays in general besides the Prayer Calendar to say for certain.
And, her determination to prove herself apparently paid off. Within a month's time, there were magicians in every corner of the homestead, playing songs filled with wonder and joy about the new possibilities this world brought with it.
That was supposed to be doing musicians, but considering how they are somehow passively enchanting the music they produce, it might not be inaccurate. Or something like that.
I think I know what this is. Warhammer is a much more magically permissive world than Creation, every human with a soul is a little bit wizard, all the world is drenched in the Winds which are of the Aethyr/Wyld. So if you get a bunch of people to make music especially in an area that should by rights be part of the Chaos Wastes (even if we did stabilize it a bit)... results may happen even if it is just a bunch of normal humans.
Or alternatively someone in that crowd has developed a genuine Warhammer Fantasy wizard talent since coming here or passing through the Aethyr.
Yep, it's indeed the case. Now that I think ofit, our city is likely to attract Ulgu. It's surrounded by an effect that hides a large place and creates a lot of confusion among enemies trying to approach it, and the Grey Wind is attracted by confusion. The
Looks like we might want a seperate department for this. With a Second circle demon on staff for the trickier workings. Sorcerous workings have far more to do with each other then with stuff in the same category.
