The golden daughter of a fading emigré noble family, Josephine von Richtenstein is ready to seize everything that is rightfully hers - power, glory, and the privilege of having many unwise affairs - in the ancient City of Spires. She has her sword, she has her magic, and she has her name; what could possibly bring her down?
Gold and Blood
- Thread starter Boot
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- Original Mature Fantasy
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- Ongoing
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Statistics (16 threadmarks, 49k words)
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01 - Arrival
- Location
- Germany
- Pronouns
- She/Her
- Readers familiar with Paizo's Golarion setting will recognize some names; this is a vestigial, at this point largely skin-deep phenomenon that is a relic of how I developed the world of Cintera.
- Josephine, the protagonist, is a bit of a mean gal and will not stop being mean.
- There's cousin incest sometimes. Also infidelity.
- There probably won't be outright smut, but if there is, I'll mark the chapter and there'll be a summary of any plot-relevant details for those skipping past it.
The First Runic Law: All that flows, can be made frozen.
Entering Magnimar will never stop being unique. You have always known it as a special city, different from all the rest, even as a child, but it wasn't until you'd seen other so-called cities that you realized just how different it really was. Even now, the idea of a single wall enclosing a single cluster of buildings doesn't seem worthy of the name 'city' - that should be reserved for places like this.
Places where the outermost wall is far enough out from the inner city that each of the gates (of which half are obvious later additions, crude constructions of brick and spolia made to fill breaches in the elegant flowstone of the original wall) is the center of its own village. The locals here are small people living small lives, of course, in the shadow of the outer wall and ruled over by whichever family holds the seal that marks them as the Rad's chosen warden of the gate. But even out here, they're still Magnimaran. They still live in a real city.
Passing beyond the first gate and its village, whose people know well to not bother a returning lance of Steelmages, you feel the familiarity of riding along one of Magnimar's great streets. Easily wide enough for seven riders, protected by Magnimaran law that's hardly necessary given the somehow still-potent ancient magic that makes prying material from them nigh impossible, each is a work of art. Thousands of tiles, which glimmer in the sunlight even after more than a thousand years, forming subtle shifts in tone that only a bird can appreciate the meaning of.
Or one who had seen the work of the master painter who had painstakingly measured proportions and noted colors until they produced a small-scale copy. An ancient sunburst, beams of light shining out from what was now the Rad's meeting house and ending only at the outer walls. The kind of work that was beyond any but the great cities of Lamadegaan, these days.
Not all of the ancient tiles were so sturdy as the great streets', and between places where they had been dug up, covered by fresh earth, or had never been, the ring between the first and second walls held space for fields aplenty. On a spring day like this one, the peasants who worked them were out in force, some plowing but most already sowing. Here and there, ruins jutted up from the mostly-flat land; a detailed pillar extending from a pile of rubble; a collapsed tower surrounded by the lean-tos of scavengers.
The true wonders were yet to come. The next wall was both more and less impressive than the great flowstone ring around the city's outer edge; built more traditionally, its stone was a gleaming white embellished with crimson elements. Every rampart bore them, save for some where ancient battles or short-sighted scavengers had left their mark. Here and there the stone was marked by the soot of old fires, but just like the new buildings clustered around each gate, they only served to emphasize the uniform color and great size of the wall.
The massive wooden doors of each gate were a more modern marvel, but one all the same - you had always found a bit of poetry in how it was the height of engineering to construct doors that could fit the hundred-foot-high gates left behind by the city's original architects. Only behind this wall did the "true" Magnimar begin. Here, there were no more fields, no more old piles of rubble. Some of the old great streets remained, but most were far tighter, as homes had expanded, pushing a wave of stalls out before them that made them appear like odd slow-moving animals feeding on the ancient stone beneath them.
Those not in the shadow of the wall were in the shadow of the spires, for it was here that Magnimar earned its title. The City of Spires, where dozens of stone towers jutted up towards the sky. After the Rad had passed a law demanding it, each of the modern towers had been capped by a red-tiled spire, turning the city into a bristling nest of skyward-pointing spears. These towers dominated the view from below, reminding all of the wealth and power of the families who built them, but even they were in shadow. Much of the old city was gone, but some of its structures remained - including a dozen or so towers that housed the families who stood over the rest of Magnimar's elite the same way said elite stood over the city's average inhabitants.
It is to one of these that you steer your horse, cutting through crowds towards the seven-sided tower. Each face was originally dominated by a great statue, half-sheltered in a niche, but despite any alchemical preparation or ancient Magery set into their stone, these are largely lost, such that what remain are their niches, each marked with a different symbol. Below the niche marked by the eye, you hand off your horse and march through doors opened for you, with little attention spared to the bustle of the courtyard or the finery of the entrance hall.
You are impatient, now, so close to your destination, and that only fades when you at last step into the room where your hostess awaits you. Agnesa Eschper de Meerzijde; your beautiful patron, your generous hostess. Tall for a dwarf, she is still a foot or so shorter than you, which now - as so often - gives you a perspective that emphasizes both the generous cleavage revealed by her dress and the stunning plaited buns she had worked her golden hair into. For a moment, you are silent, eyes following the pattern her hair has been worked into, but Agnesa's look tells everything, and finally you step forward, just as she does, and -
WHUMP
You are on your feet. It wasn't the first time you've been torn directly from dream to reality, and if it slowed you down you would have died at least once already. Your sword is ready on your left, your right hand already moving when you realize that no foe is present, and no fire is necessary. For a moment you stand still, listening in silence. The muffled sounds of servants outside the door tell you everything. No panic, no cries, just four voices assuring one another in three languages that everything is fine, no it's not broken, I'm sorry, it slipped…
When the knock comes, you have just put your sword away. You don't subscribe to all of the local superstitions, but you are in Agnesa's home, and she finds bare steel to be uncouth even when she isn't calling it a bringer of bad luck. "Yes, you woke me up," you reply to the unspoken question, and a moment later the door opens. You recognize Trude in her dark servant's dress. She's the one in charge of the portion of staff assigned to the guest wing - which primarily means you, much of the time.
"My deepest apologies, my lady," she says, inclining her head. She's an Imperial - her family fled the same civil war that took your family's lands from your grandparents, not that hers had anything to their name - but her hair is done up in the Shoanti style, gathered into a neat bun that she only lets down when among close friends and family. "The new girl was moving a piece of furniture, which slipped from her grasp."
You could reprimand Trude, who would go on to reprimand the new girl in turn. Or even have the new girl come in and make her own deepest apologies. You did get shocked out of sleep. But that's a frustration that has already faded, and the new girl is cute, so you decide not to. "Just don't let her carry anything valuable," you sigh, and Trude gives an obedient nod.
"A bath is ready for you, my lady. Should I have a specific attire readied, or…"
A hot bath for a chilly morning. It's been too long since you've had that luxury, and you're already looking forward to indulging. After all, you are Josephine Marise Insula von Richtenstein, blue of blood but keenly aware of how close your family in the city is to having to engage in some nonsense like marrying a title-hungry merchant to stay afloat. You're well on your way to becoming a full Steelmage, and so far…
Article: [ ] you've become a clear leader among your peers, who may not all like you, but always respect you.
[ ] your family connections have been the base from which you have expanded, meeting other notables of the city.
[ ] you have left the task of gathering clout for later, instead becoming known only as a fearsome fighter and talented mage.
You have been Agnesa's guest for some time now, ever since…
Article: [ ] her request for aid from the Steelmages led to your meeting; following a dramatic series of events, you saved her life, after which she invited you to stay with her and become your patroness.
[ ] you ended up entangled with Agnesa's sister, who cut things off after a close call nearly resulted in a scandalous reveal of your affair. You were handed off to Agnesa in what was probably an implicit bribe to ensure you had no reason to blab.
[ ] word came from your family that it was high time to start converting your rising star into rising fortunes, along with a letter of introduction.
The question of clothes, though, brings another set of thoughts to your mind. You will be meeting with Agnesa - who was, sadly, busy with other matters when you arrived last evening, as opposed to having embraced you like in your dream - to discuss the journey you have just returned from. It isn't a formal event, but it is one you'll want to figure out what you want from.
There is business to be done in the city, but none of it is urgent; your last report to the Steelmage citadel was recent enough that you have plenty of time before another is expected. Your family would really like news, but nothing important has changed since your last visit to them. You could see if Agnesa has something else that needs to be done right away.
Article: (pick up to two)
[ ] You have caught Agnesa's eyes lingering on you in the past, and she's beautiful, so now that the distractions are out of the way, you should seduce her. Or at least start the process.
[ ] You will report on what happened during your trip, accurately. Nothing impressive happened, but you can wrap it in a tone of 'of course it was easy for me'.
[ ] You will report on what happened during your trip, embellishing things. You'll cook up something impressive that didn't happen, and let that boost your standing.
[ ] You will hunt for a new task to take you out of the city; even if Agnesa doesn't have one, she can surely find something some friend, ally or patron of hers needs done.
So, with that in mind, you'll tell Trude...
Article: [ ] "Pick the most in-fashion of the dresses." Blue is popular in spring, and Magnimaran fashion tends towards elegance. You are a noblewoman, and this will emphasize that. The cut isn't very daring, but will leave your arms exposed, showing off your muscles.
[ ] "Ready my Steelmage garments." Simple, utilitarian, reliable. The whole thing is a soft green, as befits your (currently low) status among the Steelmages, with long sleeves and pants suitable for the currently still-cool weather.
[ ] "I'll be wearing the family colors." Based on the colors of the relic kept by the Magnimaran von Richtensteins, this is simple but finely-made attire of a rose color, with gold and black details and a cloak trimmed with white fur. It's comfortable, and a soft-spoken statement of who you are.
[ ] Shrug, and let her pick. She knows what's in-fashion, and what Agnesa likes, so she won't pick anything ridiculous out of the back of your wardrobe.
Mechanics
- Location
- Germany
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Alright, so here we go. This is my first time running a quest, though I have experience with similar forms of play-via-text. I am setting a goal of updating once per week, but this meant to be a sustainable floor: it's quite possible that I update more frequently during some times, if I am particularly inspired and/or other obligations are not particularly taxing.
I'm not using a particular mechanical system for this; Cintera is a setting for my Pathfinder 1e games, but for reasons that will be obvious to anyone who knows the system, I am going to pass on doing full mechanical implementations for everything. However, I will be using a few mechanics, to represent some elements of Josephine's character which influence her decisionmaking.
Josephine will have two "bars": Hunger, and Thirst. Neither are literal.
Hunger and Thirst can go from 0 (freshly satisfied) to 7 (maximum need); while both are below 3, Josephine gains Focus, which basically just means that she won't have any trouble keeping on-task, and will have an easier time of being a badass if she needs to. The higher each is, the more likely she will be to make stupid decisions in a chapter (e.g. letting her guard drop around someone suspicious who is telling her how cool and important she is, or removing her armor to take a nice bath when things aren't fully safe).
At around 5, options will be restricted. So you might get a vote like "accept the definitely-not-poisoned pastries?" where the only way to avoid them is to replace them with some other way of reducing Thirst, e.g. snatching the bottle of fine wine instead.
Sometimes, you'll get options which are marked as Potent. These basically mean 'this will definitely go well'; sometimes it will be something that is Josephine's specialty, or it's something a previous choice has enabled, or it will be a trade-off, like (Potent; +1 Hunger) if Josephine is flattering someone else's ego.
Feel free to ask questions about this, or the world, or characters, any time things are unclear; I will try to include all relevant contextual information in every update, but in the interests of those not best served by very long encyclopedia-style worldbuilding dumps, I will also refrain from saying everything.
I'm not using a particular mechanical system for this; Cintera is a setting for my Pathfinder 1e games, but for reasons that will be obvious to anyone who knows the system, I am going to pass on doing full mechanical implementations for everything. However, I will be using a few mechanics, to represent some elements of Josephine's character which influence her decisionmaking.
Josephine will have two "bars": Hunger, and Thirst. Neither are literal.
- Hunger represents the desires of the mind. Josephine wants to be respected, listened to, and obeyed. She likes to be flattered and important.
- Thirst represents the desires of the body. Josephine, obviously, needs to eat and drink, but she wants good food and good drink. She has been tempered by her training and can sleep in bedrolls, but she craves luxury: soft pillows, silken clothes, hot baths, fine wines…and, yes, a pretty woman in her bed.
Hunger and Thirst can go from 0 (freshly satisfied) to 7 (maximum need); while both are below 3, Josephine gains Focus, which basically just means that she won't have any trouble keeping on-task, and will have an easier time of being a badass if she needs to. The higher each is, the more likely she will be to make stupid decisions in a chapter (e.g. letting her guard drop around someone suspicious who is telling her how cool and important she is, or removing her armor to take a nice bath when things aren't fully safe).
At around 5, options will be restricted. So you might get a vote like "accept the definitely-not-poisoned pastries?" where the only way to avoid them is to replace them with some other way of reducing Thirst, e.g. snatching the bottle of fine wine instead.
Sometimes, you'll get options which are marked as Potent. These basically mean 'this will definitely go well'; sometimes it will be something that is Josephine's specialty, or it's something a previous choice has enabled, or it will be a trade-off, like (Potent; +1 Hunger) if Josephine is flattering someone else's ego.
Feel free to ask questions about this, or the world, or characters, any time things are unclear; I will try to include all relevant contextual information in every update, but in the interests of those not best served by very long encyclopedia-style worldbuilding dumps, I will also refrain from saying everything.
[X] you have left the task of gathering clout for later, instead becoming known only as a fearsome fighter and talented mage.
[X] you ended up entangled with Agnesa's sister, who cut things off after a close call nearly resulted in a scandalous reveal of your affair. You were handed off to Agnesa in what was probably an implicit bribe to ensure you had no reason to blab.
[X] You will report on what happened during your trip, accurately. Nothing impressive happened, but you can wrap it in a tone of 'of course it was easy for me'.
[X] "Pick the most in-fashion of the dresses." Blue is popular in spring, and Magnimaran fashion tends towards elegance. You are a noblewoman, and this will emphasize that. The cut isn't very daring, but will leave your arms exposed, showing off your muscles.
[X] you ended up entangled with Agnesa's sister, who cut things off after a close call nearly resulted in a scandalous reveal of your affair. You were handed off to Agnesa in what was probably an implicit bribe to ensure you had no reason to blab.
[X] You will report on what happened during your trip, accurately. Nothing impressive happened, but you can wrap it in a tone of 'of course it was easy for me'.
[X] "Pick the most in-fashion of the dresses." Blue is popular in spring, and Magnimaran fashion tends towards elegance. You are a noblewoman, and this will emphasize that. The cut isn't very daring, but will leave your arms exposed, showing off your muscles.
LucidProp
Pocky Eating MafiaDoka
[X] you have left the task of gathering clout for later, instead becoming known only as a fearsome fighter and talented mage.
[X] word came from your family that it was high time to start converting your rising star into rising fortunes, along with a letter of introduction.
[X] You will report on what happened during your trip, accurately. Nothing impressive happened, but you can wrap it in a tone of 'of course it was easy for me'.
[X] You will hunt for a new task to take you out of the city; even if Agnesa doesn't have one, she can surely find something some friend, ally or patron of hers needs done.
[X] "I'll be wearing the family colors." Based on the colors of the relic kept by the Magnimaran von Richtensteins, this is simple but finely-made attire of a rose color, with gold and black details and a cloak trimmed with white fur. It's comfortable, and a soft-spoken statement of who you are.
Clout can come after we kick ass and take names! As for what we'll do, let's write home accurately and go hunt for jobs. We haven't really seen Agnesa on-screen yet so I'm not up for starting a romance with her or her sister.
As for what we'll wear, no sense in hiding who we are. Sure, our name isn't known, but the family colors and our feats will change that sooner or later!
[X] word came from your family that it was high time to start converting your rising star into rising fortunes, along with a letter of introduction.
[X] You will report on what happened during your trip, accurately. Nothing impressive happened, but you can wrap it in a tone of 'of course it was easy for me'.
[X] You will hunt for a new task to take you out of the city; even if Agnesa doesn't have one, she can surely find something some friend, ally or patron of hers needs done.
[X] "I'll be wearing the family colors." Based on the colors of the relic kept by the Magnimaran von Richtensteins, this is simple but finely-made attire of a rose color, with gold and black details and a cloak trimmed with white fur. It's comfortable, and a soft-spoken statement of who you are.
Clout can come after we kick ass and take names! As for what we'll do, let's write home accurately and go hunt for jobs. We haven't really seen Agnesa on-screen yet so I'm not up for starting a romance with her or her sister.
As for what we'll wear, no sense in hiding who we are. Sure, our name isn't known, but the family colors and our feats will change that sooner or later!
- Location
- Outside the Box
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] you have left the task of gathering clout for later, instead becoming known only as a fearsome fighter and talented mage.
[X] you ended up entangled with Agnesa's sister, who cut things off after a close call nearly resulted in a scandalous reveal of your affair. You were handed off to Agnesa in what was probably an implicit bribe to ensure you had no reason to blab.
[X] You will report on what happened during your trip, accurately. Nothing impressive happened, but you can wrap it in a tone of 'of course it was easy for me'.
[X] You will hunt for a new task to take you out of the city; even if Agnesa doesn't have one, she can surely find something some friend, ally or patron of hers needs done.
[X] "I'll be wearing the family colors." Based on the colors of the relic kept by the Magnimaran von Richtensteins, this is simple but finely-made attire of a rose color, with gold and black details and a cloak trimmed with white fur. It's comfortable, and a soft-spoken statement of who you are.
I really enjoyed seeing the city. The creation of a lost precursor civilization, yet people still live here. Seems like a fantastic setting for adventure!
[X] you ended up entangled with Agnesa's sister, who cut things off after a close call nearly resulted in a scandalous reveal of your affair. You were handed off to Agnesa in what was probably an implicit bribe to ensure you had no reason to blab.
[X] You will report on what happened during your trip, accurately. Nothing impressive happened, but you can wrap it in a tone of 'of course it was easy for me'.
[X] You will hunt for a new task to take you out of the city; even if Agnesa doesn't have one, she can surely find something some friend, ally or patron of hers needs done.
[X] "I'll be wearing the family colors." Based on the colors of the relic kept by the Magnimaran von Richtensteins, this is simple but finely-made attire of a rose color, with gold and black details and a cloak trimmed with white fur. It's comfortable, and a soft-spoken statement of who you are.
I really enjoyed seeing the city. The creation of a lost precursor civilization, yet people still live here. Seems like a fantastic setting for adventure!
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The city seeming fun was my big reason for not voting for the option that has the protagonist immediately ask for an excuse to leave it again...
The sister option is the opposite of starting a romance. It turns the sister into the protagonist's awkward former lover. It also adds the fun dynamic where Agnesa doesn't strictly want to employ a hot fighty mage, but does it to bail out her family.
[X] you have left the task of gathering clout for later, instead becoming known only as a fearsome fighter and talented mage.
[X] word came from your family that it was high time to start converting your rising star into rising fortunes, along with a letter of introduction.
[X] You will report on what happened during your trip, accurately. Nothing impressive happened, but you can wrap it in a tone of 'of course it was easy for me'.
[X] You will hunt for a new task to take you out of the city; even if Agnesa doesn't have one, she can surely find something some friend, ally or patron of hers needs done.
[X] "I'll be wearing the family colors." Based on the colors of the relic kept by the Magnimaran von Richtensteins, this is simple but finely-made attire of a rose color, with gold and black details and a cloak trimmed with white fur. It's comfortable, and a soft-spoken statement of who you are.
[X] word came from your family that it was high time to start converting your rising star into rising fortunes, along with a letter of introduction.
[X] You will report on what happened during your trip, accurately. Nothing impressive happened, but you can wrap it in a tone of 'of course it was easy for me'.
[X] You will hunt for a new task to take you out of the city; even if Agnesa doesn't have one, she can surely find something some friend, ally or patron of hers needs done.
[X] "I'll be wearing the family colors." Based on the colors of the relic kept by the Magnimaran von Richtensteins, this is simple but finely-made attire of a rose color, with gold and black details and a cloak trimmed with white fur. It's comfortable, and a soft-spoken statement of who you are.
Vote closed
02 - For the Food
- Location
- Germany
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] you have left the task of gathering clout for later, instead becoming known only as a fearsome fighter and talented mage.
[X] You will report on what happened during your trip, accurately. Nothing impressive happened, but you can wrap it in a tone of 'of course it was easy for me'.
[X] You will hunt for a new task to take you out of the city; even if Agnesa doesn't have one, she can surely find something some friend, ally or patron of hers needs done.
[X] "I'll be wearing the family colors." Based on the colors of the relic kept by the Magnimaran von Richtensteins, this is simple but finely-made attire of a rose color, with gold and black details and a cloak trimmed with white fur. It's comfortable, and a soft-spoken statement of who you are.
And then our first tie! For options not wholly discrete (such as "take door A or door B", which is obviously hard to hybridize) I will generally seek to combine options with a close vote like this.
[X] you ended up entangled with Agnesa's sister, who cut things off after a close call nearly resulted in a scandalous reveal of your affair. You were handed off to Agnesa in what was probably an implicit bribe to ensure you had no reason to blab.
[X] word came from your family that it was high time to start converting your rising star into rising fortunes, along with a letter of introduction.
[X] You will report on what happened during your trip, accurately. Nothing impressive happened, but you can wrap it in a tone of 'of course it was easy for me'.
[X] You will hunt for a new task to take you out of the city; even if Agnesa doesn't have one, she can surely find something some friend, ally or patron of hers needs done.
[X] "I'll be wearing the family colors." Based on the colors of the relic kept by the Magnimaran von Richtensteins, this is simple but finely-made attire of a rose color, with gold and black details and a cloak trimmed with white fur. It's comfortable, and a soft-spoken statement of who you are.
And then our first tie! For options not wholly discrete (such as "take door A or door B", which is obviously hard to hybridize) I will generally seek to combine options with a close vote like this.
[X] you ended up entangled with Agnesa's sister, who cut things off after a close call nearly resulted in a scandalous reveal of your affair. You were handed off to Agnesa in what was probably an implicit bribe to ensure you had no reason to blab.
[X] word came from your family that it was high time to start converting your rising star into rising fortunes, along with a letter of introduction.
Josephine's current Hunger is 1, and her current Thirst is 0.
(If you feel like she's a bit down bad for someone with 0 Thirst, yeah, she's just kind of Like This.)
(If you feel like she's a bit down bad for someone with 0 Thirst, yeah, she's just kind of Like This.)
The Second Runic Law - All that is solid, can be made to melt.
There's really nothing like a hot bath to make you feel like you again. Or...well, there's other things, but the ones that don't require a hot bath afterwards tend to do a lot better with a hot bath beforehand. Like the kind of nice meal you have waiting for you once this one is over. You'd caught stray hints of what was being made, floating in the air as you made your way to the bath, and while unsurprising - you were too experienced to be surprised by byrek in a dwarven home - it did bring you to another consideration. Namely that the food (and really, the baths too) were quite well-tailored even shortly after you'd come here.
Typically, you'd noticed, there was a time of adaptation needed. You had to like and dislike things, or give a long speech to an attentive head servant, before things would be done just as you liked. But Agnesa's people had jumped right to knowing just how you liked your baths - hot and just a bit fragrant - as well as what you liked to eat. They even knew that you didn't like wines from Vestral, which is always worth pointing out because you've barely met anyone else who dislikes them the way you do. It was, you had concluded some time ago, a sign of Endrina's influence. No doubt she had sent over a few people to ensure that Agnesa's knew exactly what to do for you.
You let yourself sink deeper into the deliciously hot water, feeling the heat sink into you. It drives out the chill and discomfort that seemed to attach itself to your bones with every night you spent in a bedroll out in the open. It lets the last week drift off and your mind go further. It had been summer, at the time; you had just reached the point of your Steelknight training that led to the Questing, the time when you would test your mettle in alleyways, on hills, in forests, wherever you were needed. One of your very first tasks, it had been a dramatic series of clashes that led to you saving...well, probably not the life, but quite a bit of money for the ransom of Endrina.
Endrina's invitation after that was expected - it would, after all, be quite rude to not at least invite your rescuer over for dinner - but what came after was certainly not required by etiquette. Nor was her visit to you a few days later. Those had been some interesting days; Endrina put discretion over just about everything else, so there was a lot of song and dance around every meeting, either hiding things well or cloaking everything in some excuse or another. It meant that you didn't get to see her nearly as often as you wanted to, which meant that you made the most of every time you did.
Before your reminiscing can go too far in distracting directions, thinking about all the nights with her softness in your arms or the mornings watching her try to look suitably displeased while she carefully hid all of the marks you'd left, you feel a pang of hunger. That, in turn, reminds you of what had come just before the incident which led Endrina to stop being taken by your boldness and instead tell you things had gotten too risky: the letter from your mother. It hadn't said anything, of course, because in Magnimar letters could always be read, seal or no. But the meeting with her had laid things bare: the family would need "an expanded base upon which to build the continuation of our way of life", which was your mother's typically exaggerated manner for saying something simple. Silver. You needed silver. Or, ideally, land. Or a mine. Or anything that would otherwise produce the wood, wheat, cloth, oats, meat, stone...everything you needed.
Given the fact that your older brother was dead, and the twins were still a few years from doing anything useful, this meant that it was time to start converting the fact that you were damn good with a sword, a genius, a magical prodigy, very charming, and known for both winning every duel and every sparring tourney you'd been in...into silver.
The mental grimace must have made it onto your face, because the servant who you've called in looks concerned for a moment before you wave it off, stepping forward to let her dress you. Is it ironic that being clad in your family's colors is drawing your thoughts away from its plight? You always look von Richtenstein - you're told that the Korvosan branch of the family tends towards brown eyes, but you've only known your relatives to match your blue, and until you had been educated you had believed the old family myth that it was the blood of a divinely-blessed ancestor that led to your family's golden hair (the reality, of course, being that it's the result of an infusion of energies of the Rune of Light into the bloodline).
But there's something different about standing here in the family colors. Not the faded ones of the training gear either, marked by the kinds of scuffs and cuts every such thing is inevitably covered in. But the proper ones, the ones every family worth mentioning will recognize. The servant steps away, and you make sure that - yes, good, she's done your hair properly, pulling up the back into the ponytail, parting the front just as you prefer. Finally, you're ready for breakfast.
---
"Of course," you say, flourishing with your knife, "the southern bank is twice as bad as the northern. So we were on watch every night, but after the first, they didn't try anything." You smirk at the same time as you shrug. "The croakers were smart enough to realize that a second try would end just like the first, so long as I was around." Which is to say, anticlimactically, but there was only so much you could do to make "I cut down one croaker and the rest ran" sound impressive twice in a row.
"I see," is Agnesa's reply. You can't help but notice that they both have that way of speaking - when it's their turn, they can speak at length, but in response to another, neither Agnesa nor Endrina say more than what's needed. You're certain it's a merchant thing, and are considering asking at some point. Perhaps when you need a distraction to hide a bit of staring. Agnesa looks beautiful today, as she always does. Her hair is up in a braided bun that's been wound through with jewelry, pearls set into silver. The addition makes her hair shine in the light even more, the contrasting white and silver and gold is gorgeous, but you can't help but think of how it would make grabbing her hair less comfortable.
"Given the uneventful nature of the journey, will the Steelmages require a report?" Agnesa asks, and your eyes go to hers again.
"No; they won't need me for some time, still," you reply, leaning back in your chair. It's cushioned, unlike all of the rickety things in the "best rooms in the house" you stayed in during all of the village stocks. You smile. "As lovely as it always is, to spend time here - lovelier still when it's with you - I would be eager to go off to handle anything else you need done." Maybe the wording got a bit clunky, but you had to swerve away from a particular phrasing there. You're pretty sure the sisters do not share some kind of secret code of euphemisms with one another, but you'd still rather not ask Agnesa for work the same way you used to ask Endrina if she wanted you to sneak into her room that night.
Agnesa's eyes light up, and if your phrasing was awkward it seems like it well and truly doesn't matter. "There are some tasks your skills would be suitable for," she says, steepling her fingers over her empty plate. And now that it's her turn, you're treated to her detail-heavy, flair-light manner of description.
Article: Time to pick between hooks! Each has a title I've bolded, and a "key NPC" who is italicized; the NPC will be a major companion during the arc.
[ ] "There has been word that the condition of Baron Emil zu Raststedt has worsened further. People are referring to him as the Maddened Baron now. Supposedly, the curse that has befallen him and his lands was brought on by something he did early last winter. A minor client of mine, by the name of Zabina, has come to Magnimar to ask for aid."
Given the name and 'minor' comment, Zabina is some peasant representing a group of locals. Raststedt is a name you recognize, but not by much. Combining these facts...this is going to be a task which will make for an excellent song - Josephine von Richtenstein, defender of the downtrodden! - but is not going to yield much in terms of material reward. Maybe you could try squeezing someone along the way, but it's not a given.
[ ] "The widower Lord Blackwell has asked for my assistance with reopening a mine in his lands. You would be there along with Marisse, who will provide her expertise in architecture and the securing of tunnels. She is an independent force, and thus representing my interests would fall to you."
In other words, you would go there and stand around. Maybe make sure no one was cutting corners. You've heard of the Blackwells, a foreign family who settled down just after the Varisian Wars, and their mine before - apparently, the main shaft collapsed the same day that word of Lady Blackwell's death reached the manor. Marisse is a Shoanti name, and if she has expertise in architecture she's going to be a guild woman living from her skills. This will probably be a simple, boring job (unless something unexpected comes up, which it will).
[ ] "I have also been made aware of an opportunity to aid the Church of the Dead. They are seeking aid for one of their members, Tenebria, who is journeying to an old burial mound in order to retrieve a relic stored there. She has received a vision that it is under threat."
The Church of the Dead. Unlike the less-educated, you aren't afraid of them, but only a fool or someone on their deathbed is ever comfortable with them. The Judge's followers, their skin made pale and their eyes blackened by her gift, they guard the dead from any among the living who would despoil them. If one of them has received a vision like this, it will certainly be true, meaning you will be facing someone desperate, stupid or strong enough to be willing to incur the wrath of the Church of the Dead. Of course, while they seldom give it, the favor of the Judge's followers can be a very potent thing indeed.
(For clarity: taking the Church of the Dead option won't cause any trouble with Agnesa. So long as she is hosting Josephine, she shares in her victories, and she is also aware that Josephine isn't fully her asset. She will get annoyed if you always select the options that do nothing for her, though. And of course, if you go over and above and find some way for her to benefit, that will be good in her books.)
Article: Meta-Vote: How do people feel about an expansion of the mechanics to include Wealth and Repute?
The functionality would be as follows:
Wealth represents total resources, not tracked specifically but in a general way. If Josephine has 5 wealth, for example, she could purchase anything with a "wealth value" of 1-3 without issue. Purchases of WV 4 could (I'd do some RNG to figure it out) result in a drop of wealth, purchases of WV 5 would result in her Wealth dropping by 1 point.
Similarly, Repute would also not be a discrete resource but rather Josephine's score from general societal vibe checks. Having Repute allow her to get strangers to trust her because of her reputation, or to get a rival to trust her word of honor. Gaining Repute would be done by doing things society thinks are Cool And Honorable, losing it would be done by...well, the opposite.
Repute would also be subject to 'there are different value systems at play'; if Josephine becomes known as a gallant noble knight who defends the peasantry, that might not be too useful if she's trying to convince a merchant to trust her word on a good investment. Similarly, backing up new money won't immediately make her fellow aristocrats think she's cool.
[ ] Yes, mechanics.
[ ] Nah, keep it vibes-based.
LucidProp
Pocky Eating MafiaDoka
[X] "I have also been made aware of an opportunity to aid the Church of the Dead. They are seeking aid for one of their members, Tenebria, who is journeying to an old burial mound in order to retrieve a relic stored there. She has received a vision that it is under threat."
[X] Yes, mechanics.
Having friends in the clergy is always good. That, and this seems like the most combat-oriented mission, and Josephine is much better at fighting than she is flirting!
As for the mechanics, I don't see why not. Can't hurt to have these thinga objectively tracked beyond just vibed. It gives us a better idea of where Josephine stands in the world.
[X] Yes, mechanics.
Having friends in the clergy is always good. That, and this seems like the most combat-oriented mission, and Josephine is much better at fighting than she is flirting!
As for the mechanics, I don't see why not. Can't hurt to have these thinga objectively tracked beyond just vibed. It gives us a better idea of where Josephine stands in the world.
[X] "I have also been made aware of an opportunity to aid the Church of the Dead. They are seeking aid for one of their members, Tenebria, who is journeying to an old burial mound in order to retrieve a relic stored there. She has received a vision that it is under threat."
[X] Yes, mechanics.
[X] Yes, mechanics.
[X] "The widower Lord Blackwell has asked for my assistance with reopening a mine in his lands. You would be there along with Marisse, who will provide her expertise in architecture and the securing of tunnels. She is an independent force, and thus representing my interests would fall to you."
[X] Yes, mechanics.
[X] Yes, mechanics.
[X] "I have also been made aware of an opportunity to aid the Church of the Dead. They are seeking aid for one of their members, Tenebria, who is journeying to an old burial mound in order to retrieve a relic stored there. She has received a vision that it is under threat."
Because I want to see how combat actually looks like in this setting.
[X] Nah, keep it vibes-based.
Numbers are the devil
Because I want to see how combat actually looks like in this setting.
[X] Nah, keep it vibes-based.
Numbers are the devil
[X] "I have also been made aware of an opportunity to aid the Church of the Dead. They are seeking aid for one of their members, Tenebria, who is journeying to an old burial mound in order to retrieve a relic stored there. She has received a vision that it is under threat."
[X] Yes, mechanics.
[X] Yes, mechanics.
[X] "I have also been made aware of an opportunity to aid the Church of the Dead. They are seeking aid for one of their members, Tenebria, who is journeying to an old burial mound in order to retrieve a relic stored there. She has received a vision that it is under threat."
[X] Yes, mechanics.
[X] Yes, mechanics.
Kylia Quilor
I Have Two Moods, and Bitter is One of Them.
- Location
- Hiding in the corner of your vision.
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] Yes, mechanics.
(But only insofar as it remains viable for you the QM)
[X] "There has been word that the condition of Baron Emil zu Raststedt has worsened further. People are referring to him as the Maddened Baron now. Supposedly, the curse that has befallen him and his lands was brought on by something he did early last winter. A minor client of mine, by the name of Zabina, has come to Magnimar to ask for aid."
(But only insofar as it remains viable for you the QM)
[X] "There has been word that the condition of Baron Emil zu Raststedt has worsened further. People are referring to him as the Maddened Baron now. Supposedly, the curse that has befallen him and his lands was brought on by something he did early last winter. A minor client of mine, by the name of Zabina, has come to Magnimar to ask for aid."
Vote closed
03 - Darkness, Once Known
- Location
- Germany
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] Yes, mechanics
[X] "I have also been made aware of an opportunity to aid the Church of the Dead. They are seeking aid for one of their members, Tenebria, who is journeying to an old burial mound in order to retrieve a relic stored there. She has received a vision that it is under threat."
[X] "I have also been made aware of an opportunity to aid the Church of the Dead. They are seeking aid for one of their members, Tenebria, who is journeying to an old burial mound in order to retrieve a relic stored there. She has received a vision that it is under threat."
When you first see her, the sky is bright and clear, the Sun warming your skin. She's easy to spot, like all of the Church of the Dead's members are. Her robes are black, the dark fabric accented solely by the silver-white thread around the edge and adding stark contrast to the paleness of her skin. Not that you can see much of it; between her robes, gloves, and faded traveling boots, it might be more proper to say that her skin, with the smooth paleness of polished bone, is serving to accent the rest of her look.
Typically, it's a mistake to lead a horse through Magnimar's streets like she is. People will step between you and the horse, which loses a lot of its ability to encourage people to stand aside when not actively pressed forward by a loud or shiny rider; more than one rural squire or young would-be Steelmage has found themselves mired in the crowd, unable to drag their mount through a sea of people. None of that's a problem for Tenebria. The crowd parts in front of her, a hush moving through the crowded street like a bubble around her as people fall quiet, step aside, whisper whatever they hope will bring the Judge's blessing or ward off her gaze, and then spend a few moments gathering the courage to return to normal life when the moment passes.
When Tenebria reaches you, the day seems to darken slightly; the warmth on your cheek fades, as if the Sun has dipped behind a cloud and a cool wind has come to steal away the old heat. It's quite the opposite of the effect you'd normally get when approached by a pretty woman like this - because, despite (or perhaps even because) of the way she seems to carry cold and death like a mantle, she is undeniably pretty. If perhaps in a way that goes a touch beyond gothic; her hair is dark and has a rough edge, as if cut without much care, reaching down far enough that she has swept it behind her ears, and her skin already has you considering whether to compare it to bone again, or to describe it like pale marble.
Either way, the pale color of her skin gives way to the complete blackness of her eyes; you aren't sure if the blackness of her irises has swallowed the rest, or if the entire eye was simply covered in a uniform layer of darkness. Behind her is her horse, one of the large, sturdy breeds the Church of the Dead use, its allegiance obvious in the complete darkness of its mane and the prominent skulls on the small saddlebags at its sides. Luckily not actual skulls, as much as the Church of the Dead liked to use them in its decoration and architecture.
Tenebria looks at you, eyes going up and down in a way that is normally either a sign of interest or a martial inspection, before staring directly at you - you realize that you do not know how you can tell that she's looking right into your eyes - and speaking. "Josephine Marise Insula von Richtenstein," she says. It isn't a question, and if you ever get to the point where you acknowledge it as a greeting you will be lost.
"Indeed, Gravemistress," you respond with a nod of your head, unable to ignore just how little the height difference - you are mounted, looking down at a woman who is probably shorter than you already - seems to matter here. There are plenty of ways to avoid that dominating an exchange, of course, and it's not like you would feel in control of a conversation with someone like the head of the Steelmages just because you're on a horse, but those are more...individual. This just feels like an exchange with someone who hasn't even noticed that you tower over them.
"Tenebria," she replies, because titles slide off her like they do off all members of the Church of the Dead, water splashed onto the oil of their devotion to an uncaring Judge who weighs all as if they were cut from the same cloth. You'd be lying if speaking as if you were close to a member of the Church of the Dead didn't make you feel a touch uncomfortable, but even in the undeniably bleak aura of this woman, your pride stiffens your spine. You're a Steelmage, a von Richtenstein, a daughter of Magnimar - using a woman's name will not be a meaningful challenge.
"Will we be picking up your supplies at the edge of the city?" You ask, because you haven't just been gawking like someone who's never been to a funeral before; you have noticed that her horse carries far less than your own.
"I am supplied," Tenebria informs you as she pulls herself into the saddle, and you realize that there is not going to be anything added to that. You decide not to ask for it, not least because you don't want to appear as the same kind of ignorant fool who might be afraid that Tenebria's supplies are bones that she will be chewing on. Which you are not; such rumors seek to stain the reputation of the Church that guards the dead, and are products of small minds which cannot help but fear any reminder of their own mortality.
So instead of asking questions, you nod, and with a nudge of your feet bring your mount into motion. You're only vaguely aware of where your location is, as the Church of the Dead are only slightly more generous with words when writing, but you know the gate you need to exit through. The pair of you cut silently through the crowd at the gate, even the possibility of losing one's place in the line of people passing the guards not being enough to keep more than a handful in their place as Tenebria passes by. It's only then, as you pass by the towering overgrown mound said to still contain a demon summoned by one of the city's ancient architects, that you realize just what this means.
You will be traveling, probably for at least four days, with a woman who barely speaks and whose presence either drives off or silences everyone else. Were you not Josephine von Richtenstein, woman of your word, iron-spined Steelmage, you would despair. But you are, so you don't.
It's amazing how travel tends to wipe away mystique. Not all of it, of course; no matter how normal and mundane it is when Tenebria sits down to drink her single tin cup of water to wash down her single traveler's biscuit, you can't forget that she does this precisely once per day. You've never seen her eat or drink anything else, either - for the first few days of your journey, you're along roads near Magnimar, which means that you spend every night in one of the walled inns that stand at regular intervals along them, so it's not like there wasn't better, heartier fare available.
When you leave the inns and main roads behind, you're treated to another type of mundanity. While Tenebria obviously puts her full confidence in the ritual circle she draws around the camp, you know better, so even when your own circle is complete, ringing the pair of you and the horses in what must be a truly nasty combination of miracular power and precise magery, you hold watch. You can't stay up all night, of course, but you make sure that no twilight predators or quiet followers can march in unannounced. It's during these moments that you're treated to another bit of the mundane. Tenebria, wrapped up in her blanket, eyes shut in sleep, looks...quite normal. Without the contrast of sunlight, her black robes, and her abyss-like eyes, her skin looks pale in the way a winter scholar's is. Her breathing is normal, even and slow, and when a strand of her hair falls over her face, she doesn't resemble a harbinger of death at all. Just a woman.
It's what you think - and, honestly, hope - is your final day of travel before the mound when it happens. For the first time since your last stop at an inn, your journey has brought you to a river, which gave an opportunity you seized upon immediately: you declared that it was high time for a break to water the horses and wash. Luckily, Tenebria didn't insist on continuing, and so with her keeping watch you were able to wash a few days of road dust off of you. It was, almost, a surprise when Tenebria moved to take your place once you were finished. But, should it be? Surely the Judge wouldn't want her servants to be covered in dirt, and Tenebria was a person, for all of the silence and inhuman gazing she did.
These thoughts are interrupted by the soft sounds of an impending ambush. It's almost a relief, honestly, because you'd run out of things to think about and that meant that you were only one stray thought from imagining your traveling companion's disrobed form. There's four of them, coming from two directions in the underbrush, and as you casually stand up to stretch, you see flashes of them through the undergrowth. Four against one gives the situation an edge; no matter how good you are, if two can drag you down a third can cut your throat open. But from what you see, these aren't trained killers. They look like they might be deserters, cowards who fled a battle or the scraps of some chewed-up mercenary company who broke before being ridden down by cavalry. An axe here, a poorly-maintained shield there, colors that don't quite match up...contempt unwinds in your stomach like a roused serpent, the way it always does when you're faced with such dregs of war.
To their credit, they don't immediately reveal themselves when you pull your sword from its sheath. You could just be practicing, after all. But any intelligence that showed is more than made up for by the sheer idiocy that follows: they don't move an inch while you hold your sword before you, perfectly horizontal and at a right angle to your body (as you spent dozens of hours perfecting before being allowed to do literally anything else with it), a canvas for your power. You don't need ink to draw them, merely your sharpened will, and so mark after mark flares to life as you write across your blade. Sharp. Quick. Lethal. You like to imagine you can see it happen, but you can't. There's no way to see the blade soak in the forces drawn to your intent, no way to perceive with eyes not themselves sharpened by magic that it will move more swiftly, holding or discarding momentum at your command, that its edge is encased in the disdain that splits leather or even weak iron before the blade is even present.
So now your blade is soaked in magic, and your idiotic foes are still waiting. You twirl the sword once, loosening your wrist. You roll your shoulders. Finally, you lose your patience and tighten your grasp on the grip. You don't pull power out of the sword, but it being drenched in magic only makes it easier to draw it from the air and into your open palm. Lightning pairs better with the sword's cuts, but there's nothing like a mage filling their palm with fire to - appropriately - light a fire under someone's rear.
The first man jumps up fully into view. He's wearing chain made for someone a foot taller, pulled up like a skirt and lashed to his waist with an expensive belt, and in his hands is a crossbow pointed not quite directly at you. You don't even listen to whatever demand he is making, you just sneer at the lack of self-preservation and let the fire fly.
The others aren't as foolish, so you have to whirl immediately. Your right palm is still hot from the flame's passage when it joins your left one on the handle, lending your swing the extra strength you need to properly parry the wild overhand chop from the axe-wielder in mercenary colors. He's faster than you expected, but slow to recover, so you can easily step back to avoid being pinned between him and the curse-spewing woman who tries to skewer you from behind her shield. Not a bad idea, against a mage. But you're not just a mage.
Your swing is beautiful; the kind of feint that even your peers would struggle to handle, and that no one who hasn't fought a Steelmage could react to. You strike from above, using your height advantage as you step forwards, only to steal the momentum from your swing, drop your hands lower, and then crash your blade into her shield horizontally, with all of the force of a strike with a long wind-up. You placed it perfectly, the leather around the edge of the shield is cut through, steel and force opening the gap between the grain of the shield like you were chopping wood. Of course, there's also an arm attached to it, so eventually things get a lot bloodier than any kind of normal woodcutting.
On the sparring field, you wouldn't, but here you have no respect for your opponents so you flourish, twirling away and sending a splatter of blood to the ground around you as you make distance again, surveying the field. The first man is...oh, he's alive, actually, just collapsed against a tree making the kind of noises you end up making when you try to make demands of a noblewoman who has a palm full of fire. The axe wielder is moving carefully, trying to flank you with the fourth one, a twitchy youth with the kind of scruffy androgyny that you get from padded armor and poorly-cut hair, whose trembling hands are holding a sword - their stance is possibly the worst you have ever seen. Finally, there is the woman, formerly the shield-woman, who is retreating with a new set of swears. She's obviously more experienced, as she's both fluidly unleashing a torrent of curses in multiple languages and keeping enough of her cool to toss aside the ruined remains of her shield while keeping her sword up.
"Why weren't you in charge?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at her. You shift in place, so that she's on your right, enabling you to wave your sword towards the other two and dissuade them from any more poorly-attempted rushes.
"Outvoted," the woman says with the kind of bile that makes you sincerely wonder why she didn't just leave the others. You can recognize 'the only joy I feel is the vindication of having known this would be a disaster', you've worn it yourself. "If you would...be so kind, my lady," she grimaces, and you can't help but grin at how obviously hopeless she's realized things are, to now be trying to address you properly. "We would...trouble you, none more."
"What?!" The axe-man interjects, rage on his face. "You're saying we leave?! After what she did to you, and to Markus?"
Oh, lovely. A classic voice of reason and voice of vengeance scene. You consider cutting them off by informing them that it's been two seasons since this kind of thing fell out of fashion following its heavy overuse by a singular playwright, but before you can, your stomach drops. Cold covers you, your skin feels clammy, and that's the brief warning you get before darkness covers everything. Shouts cut through the darkness, each of the trio immediately panicking in their own way. One unsteady voice calls names, the axe-man's gruff shouting declares the presence of witchery, the woman invokes the ancient rite of 'yell to withdraw in order to make things look less like a rout'.
You, for the moment, don't judge any of them, because you've dropped into a defensive stance, suddenly keenly aware that you cannot even see the ground. Or, you notice, the flame that's warming your palm. It's like your world has been dipped in the blackest ink. You breathe, injecting calm into the beast of your thoughts, refusing to let it bolt into panic. You can't see, but you can hear. What do you hear?
Thrashing. Cursing. The heavy sound of an axe falling to the ground. A panicked cry for mercy - then a dull, muffled crack. The sound of something allowed to collapse into the undergrowth. Soft steps you can barely make out. The axe-man is yelling a name now, probably the one of the begging kid, then he lets out a yell of pain. You recognize the sound of life ended by crushing force; bones breaking, skin rupturing, a gurgled cry as lungs collapse. That's two deaths. The woman has fallen silent, but unless her death throes were drowned out entirely by her comrade's demise, she's still alive. You hear rough, unsteady breathing, the kind that brings back the uncomfortable twinge of childhood memory, of trying to hide the sound of your own fear as you hid from monsters unseen. Only instead of some nightmare, this woman is afraid of something quite real.
Further away, there's a groan. The fool - Markus, presumably - has gathered enough willpower to do something stupid again, making noise that will surely draw the killer in the dark to him. And it does. Soft-spoken words, entirely at odds with this space of pitch-black horror, come through from what must be beside him. "Be at peace."
If she spoke more than a few words a day you'd be certain, but that sounds like Tenebria. Is it? Is she caught in this as well? You don't have long to wonder, as the sound of another soft crack signal the end of Markus. And then, your skin crawls. You've broken into a cold sweat, and your stomach shudders. It's like some kind of wretched tide is going over you - you connect the dots just as the world around you begins to return to view.
It's an unnatural thing, to be able to see the trees around you but not the sword in your grasp, or the fire, or the ground beneath you. But the darkness withdraws like a tide, releasing sunshine and green and then less welcoming sights. The twitchy one in a heap, neck broken. The axe-man in a messy, bloody pile, dead but still leaking lifeblood onto the moss around him. Markus, burned and now fallen silent, neck broken as well. The ex-shield woman is revealed next, collapsing as if she had been held aloft just above the ground, clutching herself as she repeats some kind of personal mantra.
The darkness withdraws until it flows into the form of a woman. Like released water flowing back to its source, it pours through the air until her silhouette is visible, washes across the ground, then up her, revealing pale skin. And only pale skin; some other time, the sight of Tenebria's nudity might have distracted you, but now your stare is focused on the wave of black flowing over her body, back up into her eyes. Like a beast released and then called back to its cage, the deepest night you have ever known obediently returns to the utter darkness of Tenebria's eyes, which fall on you.
"Her fate?" Tenebria asks, indicating the woman with a nod of her head, and for a brief moment you can't help but marvel at how you had been starting to think this woman was anything but darkness and death in a cocoon of flesh.
Several days have passed, and the last two of them without even the comforts of an inn.
Hunger: 2 (+1)
Thirst: 2 (+2)
Wealth: 3
Repute: 2
Hunger: 2 (+1)
Thirst: 2 (+2)
Wealth: 3
Repute: 2
Article: [ ] "Same as the others." Let the Judge's darkness take her, and send her to the Judge's court.
[ ] "I'll take care of her." The sentence for banditry, which this indisputably was, is execution. You are a titled noblewoman, and a Steelmage, so you have the right to be her executioner.
[ ] "Wait..." She might have useful information. If she cooperates, you'll spare her. If she digs in her heels, you won't.
[ ] "Spare her." You'll still try to get something useful from her, but her life won't be on the line.
[ ] "Hey, it's alright." Let your actions answer the question; comfort the woman whose fear is uncomfortably similar to your own. (Potent; +1 Hunger)
Tenebria is clearly unbothered by her nudity, but it would hardly be proper to let her stand around without her clothes.
[ ] You remove your cloak and put it around her shoulders. This keeps Josephine on her earlier path of humanizing Tenebria, potentially allowing for more of a connection later.
[ ] What do the servants of the Judge care for such mortal worries? This means Josephine is more impacted by what it was like to see Tenebria's power here, and keeps a distance between them.
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LucidProp
Pocky Eating MafiaDoka
[X] "Wait..." She might have useful information. If she cooperates, you'll spare her. If she digs in her heels, you won't.
[X] You remove your cloak and put it around her shoulders. This keeps Josephine on her earlier path of humanizing Tenebria, potentially allowing for more of a connection later.
Axe woman might hold a grudge because even when she knew this was a suicide mission, she still came along to see it through with her companions. That says she values them despite her opinion on their stupid plan. However, information is valuable here, and I'd like to know what drove these bandits to fight a unwinnable fight, just in case there's a new kingpin in town that displaced them from their usual haunts.
As for Tenebria, she's incredibly cool and I would like for Josephine to be friends with her!
[X] You remove your cloak and put it around her shoulders. This keeps Josephine on her earlier path of humanizing Tenebria, potentially allowing for more of a connection later.
Axe woman might hold a grudge because even when she knew this was a suicide mission, she still came along to see it through with her companions. That says she values them despite her opinion on their stupid plan. However, information is valuable here, and I'd like to know what drove these bandits to fight a unwinnable fight, just in case there's a new kingpin in town that displaced them from their usual haunts.
As for Tenebria, she's incredibly cool and I would like for Josephine to be friends with her!
[X] "Same as the others." Let the Judge's darkness take her, and send her to the Judge's court.
[X] You remove your cloak and put it around her shoulders. This keeps Josephine on her earlier path of humanizing Tenebria, potentially allowing for more of a connection later.
[X] You remove your cloak and put it around her shoulders. This keeps Josephine on her earlier path of humanizing Tenebria, potentially allowing for more of a connection later.
[X] "Hey, it's alright." Let your actions answer the question; comfort the woman whose fear is uncomfortably similar to your own. (Potent; +1 Hunger)
[X] You remove your cloak and put it around her shoulders. This keeps Josephine on her earlier path of humanizing Tenebria, potentially allowing for more of a connection later.
[X] You remove your cloak and put it around her shoulders. This keeps Josephine on her earlier path of humanizing Tenebria, potentially allowing for more of a connection later.
LucidProp
Pocky Eating MafiaDoka
[X] "Hey, it's alright." Let your actions answer the question; comfort the woman whose fear is uncomfortably similar to your own. (Potent; +1 Hunger)
[X] You remove your cloak and put it around her shoulders. This keeps Josephine on her earlier path of humanizing Tenebria, potentially allowing for more of a connection later.
I'n curious what Potent means.
[X] You remove your cloak and put it around her shoulders. This keeps Josephine on her earlier path of humanizing Tenebria, potentially allowing for more of a connection later.
I'n curious what Potent means.
- Location
- Germany
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Potent was mentioned in the original mechanics post; it's basically a way to highlight an option which either plays to Josephine's strengths in a way that gives her a considerable edge, or is the 'correct but difficult' choice for her - so, in this case, Josephine opening up and using this shared emotion to connect with the spooked bandit lady is more effective than the other options, but, given that it involves making herself vulnerable and will be a bit of a harrowing experience, it will cause her to gain 1 Hunger.
In the future, Potent options can also arise from good luck or synergistic choices - e.g. if a vote has Josephine scout a place out, there may be a Potent option in the next vote that says 'we know their weak points now, strike there'. It's a combination of reward for good decisions, trade-off, and just a way for me to signal 'if you were Josephine, you would know that you are really good at X, so doing X will go well'.
In the future, Potent options can also arise from good luck or synergistic choices - e.g. if a vote has Josephine scout a place out, there may be a Potent option in the next vote that says 'we know their weak points now, strike there'. It's a combination of reward for good decisions, trade-off, and just a way for me to signal 'if you were Josephine, you would know that you are really good at X, so doing X will go well'.
[x] "I'll take care of her." The sentence for banditry, which this indisputably was, is execution. You are a titled noblewoman, and a Steelmage, so you have the right to be her executioner.
[x] You remove your cloak and put it around her shoulders. This keeps Josephine on her earlier path of humanizing Tenebria, potentially allowing for more of a connection later.
[x] You remove your cloak and put it around her shoulders. This keeps Josephine on her earlier path of humanizing Tenebria, potentially allowing for more of a connection later.
Vote closed