Hmmph... this junior is a good seed [Cultivation Management Quest]

[occipitallobe]

Good Seed and Omake Spreadsheet Rules:

Firstly, if you have questions about Good Seeds and the like please read here. If that doesn't answer your question please ping me in thread, or on Discord.

If you write a new Good Seed, or write an omake, please update the spreadsheet if you have access.

If you do not have access, please ping a collaborator (Swordomatic, Alectai, Quest, TehChron, Insane-Not-Crazy, Humbaba, ReaderOfFate, Kaboomatic, no., BungieONI) letting them know what you want and they will update the spreadsheet here. To gain access, you will need a gmail account of some kind. Throwaway emails are fine (I'm using one for the spreadsheet), but to gain access it's as simple as sending me either your email via PM, via DM in Discord, or just in Discord's #spreadsheet-requests channel.

This is mandatory. If a Good Seed does not record their omake by pinging collabs (or just requesting access and editing things themselves - this is the preferred option), I won't give out awards. If a new Good Seed is not recorded here, they won't advance. By doing this it makes the whole thing manageable for me - it's gotten pretty unwieldy!

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Omake Writer Instructions:

There are four fields you need to fill out.

Omake Link, which is just a link to your first omake for the turn. This makes it easier for me to read them as I do the update - without this it's tough to know off the bat which omake were written this turn, and to properly

Requested Bonus, which is your requested bonus for your omake. You can leave it up to me if you like. You can see more info in the Good Seed infopost here.

Cultivation Aims. For those following unorthodox paths - higher than 9th Heavenstage or later than 7th Dao Pillar paths. Please put in what you are aiming for before you break through. I have left it as 'default'. If you do not edit it, I'll go with that.

Turn Notes - Do you want to do something specific? Enter a Secret Realm? Help the Clan out in some way? If you have something specific you want to accomplish on this turn, put it in turn notes so I can adjust your Fate around it.

All other fields are for QM use to record character information to properly run the flow of the game.

 

[no.]

Side Omake: Shooting The Breeze

The Dawn Fortress, central headquarters of the Golden Devil Clan, was the seat of the Grand Elder's power, as well as an exceptionally impregnable defensive fortification. It was also, to not mince words, really fucking big.

Not only that, but a significant portion of Golden Devil Cultivators lived there. The Elders often spent years at a time there to complete certain specialist jobs, and the Junior Aspirants couldn't leave at all until they reached Third Heavenstage and graduated to Aspirant. In between, it varied a lot; while plenty of Clansmen continued to primarily live in or around the fortress, in many cases Legionnaires left the nest and never returned. They might settle down to administrate one of countless towns and small cities, or permanently join a Legion that didn't move around much, or become an outrider who patrolled one of the borders of Clan territory. Those Clansmen might never see the fortress again in their lives, or only return a few times.

Hence, despite fulfilling a primarily military function, the fortress had a great many utilities, taking any shape one could imagine. Restaurants, brothels, arenas for any sport imaginable, marketplaces of all shapes and sizes, and much stranger things besides. Most stereotypical of all Dawn Fortress locales, however, was the bathhouse.

While public bathing was not unknown to the people of the Third Sea, the Devils' propensity for frequent and regular social bathing was considered something of an oddity. Many a joke about Golden Devils ended with a punchline about them looking for an excuse to get naked in front of other people. Thus, the Dawn Fortress contained the largest and most luxurious bathhouses in the Virtuous Flipper Region, and perhaps the Third Sea.

But for all that the Fortress' lesser bathhouses already astounded outsiders, the true treasure was far more exclusive. Gigantic. Meticulously maintained day in and day out. Containing only the freshest, purest water with the mineral makeup regulated down to the parts per billion. Filled with ultra-fine arrays that heated the water around each and every person to their ideal temperature. Ridiculously, insanely expensive, effectively barring anyone below Late Foundaiton Establishment from entering. This was the Singing Swallow, the best bathhouse in the Third Sea and a symbol of patriotic pride in the heart of any true Devil.

It was rumored that those who bathed in the Singing Swallow regularly were more likely to succeed in their tribulation to reach Core Formation, and that it was so harmonious and peaceful, being in there made you feel like the turtle was still alive. Even the inner walls were decorated in gorgeous murals made from incredibly small colored ceramic tiles, depicting beautiful landscapes, historical triumphs and abstract wonders. The ancient and enigmatic owner, whose name and face were known perhaps only by the Archegetes himself, only employed menial workers in the Ninth Heavenstage and above, so stringing were her standards for maintenence.

Needless to say, a cultural treasure like this needed to be protected. And so, two Legionnaires, fully armed and armored, stood at both the inner and outer entrances. The two men at the outer entrance, Titus and Marcellus, had now been standing still for five hours, and had gotten very bored. The novelty of watching obscenely important people come and go in large quantities had been fascinating, but eventually worse off. The two looked around in unison, entually confirming that no one important was coming.

"You ever wonder why we're here?" Said the shorter of the two, a man with curly, close-cut hair a pair of muttonchops which hugged his chubby cheeks snugly. This was Titus, a thoroughly mediocre Sixth Heavenstage Legionnaire.

"That's one of life's great mysteries, isn't it?" Replied his companion, a skinny man with sunken eyes whose long and straight hair was pulled into a tight ponytail. This was Marcellus, a similarly unremarkable fellow of the Sixth Heavenstage.

Titus furrowed his brows in confusion. "No, I mean, why are we here, guarding the bathhouse?"

Marcellus blinked slowly, getting his brain back in gear after hours of mindless guard duty. "...because the Commander told us to?"

"Yeah, but like..." The stocky Legionnaire gave up trying to articulate himself, dabbing at the beads of sweat on his forehead with an old hankerchief. "Any of the people in there is gonna be way stronger than the two of us combined. So anyone who could beat them could beat us."

"Who cares about that? I'm not sure what you're saying."

"I'm saying that it's weird for us to guard them when anyone we could beat, they could beat easily." Titus said, gesticulating animatedly, only to wince when his spear knocked into the door.

Marcellus looked at his peer in the same way as an adult trying to explain something to a child. "Yeah, but they're not here to fight. They're here to bathe, Titus, obviously they don't wanna get in a fight here."

Titus was about to speak up again, only for someone to approach the bathhouse. Even if you didn't know who this red-armored woman was, you'd be able to tell at a glance that she was not someone to be fucked with. Standing at six feet tall and boasting a very robust frame for a woman, her permanent scowl let up a little when she read the familiar sign above the door. This was Hortensia Quintia, matriarch of the famous Quintia family. Titus and Marcellus wordlessly opened the doors for this Elder, who entered with confident, deliberate steps. Once the doors were shut again, the severe woman's obscene pressure quickly let up, and the two let out a sigh of relief in unison.

"Anyway, as I was saying, I guess it's annoying, but wouldn't it be a great way to remind us Juniors of how strong they are? Like, 'I'm such a peerless master, I don't fear for my life no matter where I am, even in the bath.'" Titus mimicked some theoretical elder, no one in particular, in a false baritone.

Marcellus leaned his spear against the wall for a moment to stretch his aching shoulder. "Yeah Titus, that'd be pretty cool. But the difference between you and an Elder is they don't think about how to look awesome, they just are awesome, and when they want to take a break from being awesome, they go to the Singing Swallow."

Titus gave his friend a respectful nod, conceding the point, and the conversation died down for now.

----

After another hour, something else occured which once more broke up the monotony of the duo's job. A small, bald old man, wearing gaudy pink and orange robes, exited the bathhouse. He looked jubilant, a full two hundred years younger than when he'd gone in. His skin looked to all who observed both sturdier and more beautiful than it had two hours prior when he entered. This was Ioannes Burakis, another Core Formation Elder. As before, the Legionnaires froze up under the weight of the man's immense pressure, and watched as he made his way to the west with a spring in his step.

"Do you think Burakis knows how bad those robes look?" Titus quietly murmured once several minutes had passed and he was absolutely sure the Elder could not hear him.

"He's got to know, I think." Marcellus nodded to himself. "He's wearing them as a statement of his own power. 'I can wear the strangest, brightest colors I want because I'm stronger than you, so you can't stop me. You can't even criticize me or I'll shoot beams from my eyes and kill you.' Something like that."

"Beams from his eyes?"

"Yeah. Right out of the eyes, nobody ever sees it coming. That one's a classic."

"I don't think anyone does that in real life, man." Titus said, raising an incredulous eyebrow. "If you shoot it out of your eyes, how the hell do you aim it?"

"You don't need to aim it, idiot." Marcellus chided, raising a finger in a tut tut gesture. "You look at something, and then you fire the beams, and they hit the thing you were looking at when you shot them."

Titus furrowed his bushy brows in consternation. "But what if your head moves a little bit. I mean you're shining a bright light on your own eyeballs, that's gotta hurt and throw off the angle." He slowly swivelled and tilted his head as a demonstration.

"These are Elders, Titus. They're an existence far above lowly people like us; I doubt pain affects them at all anymore."

"But why not just use a technique that doesn't put you in pain?"

"Cuz', I... uh... Hm." Marcellus almost spoke up several times, but shut himself down over and over. The two quickly returned to an awkward silence.

----

After another hour of the occasional person entering or leaving, something else of note happened: a tall and musular man, whose dark, unnaturally shiny skin betrayed an exceptionally thick Blood of Bronze, approached the two, carrying two large ceramic cups of black tea.

"Commander Decimus?" Marcellus asked with a perplexed expression, before catching himself and nervously snapping into a salute. "I-I mean, Sir! Good afternoon, Sir!"

"Titus. Marcellus." The Centurion stoically nodded to his two subordinates one at a time. "I've been giving you two double-shifts a lot this past week, so I felt I ought to give you something. Finish it fast, so none of us get in trouble."

The pair enthusiastically thanked their commanding officer and immediately began to placate their dry mouths. The Centurion turned and left, prompting Titus and Marcellus to wave awkwardly to Decimus' rapidly-disappearing form. The minutes passed in silence for a little while, but it wasn't long until the two began to chatter again.

As expected, it was Titus who spoke up first. "Alright, but give this a thought: do you think those Old Monsters fuck in there?"

Marcellus Spat out his coffee rather violently - strangely enough, there was also some blood mixed in. "Are you mad? You're really gonna talk about that where they might hear you?"

"Nah, they won't hear. There's sound-dampening arrays in the bathhouse, they want to forget about everything and relax."

"And that's why you think they fuck in there, then?" Marcellus questioned with a flabbergasted look.

"Well yeah." his shorter companion replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Elders live a long time you know, and old people are sentimental. Plus, it gets real lonely when everyone you knew in your youth is dead. I bet they mostly keep the intimacy between each other."

Marcellus sighed and rubbed his temples ruefully. "Nah, no way. Those elders, they're all workaholic lunatics. You think they can make their super-rare breaks match up? No doubt they just toss some coins at any prostitute who catches their fancy."

Titus shook his head at his partner's cynical skepticism. "I'm telling you, the Elders have orgies in the bathhouse. I've heard this from multiple people."

"Yeah, and they were all bullshitters, just like you. 'sides, half those guys are mutated and shit, they prolly don't feel anything down there anymore." Marcellus insisted, crossing his arms and looking off into the distance. "Does make you wonder what happens to make 'em get like that though."

Titus tilted his head at the strange question. "I told you, they just get old."

"Yeah but..." Marcellus drained out the rest of his tea and put down the cup, pulling his spear back to his hand with a brief telekinetic pull. "every Elder used to be somebody really talented, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"And who are always the most talented people in the clan?"

"The Young fuckin' Masters." Titus answered with a scowl.

"Right on. So how is is that those arrogant Young Masters end up all stodgy and serious?" Marcellus wondered aloud. "It can't just be that they get old, people's personalities usually don't change too much once they're not kids anymore."

"...huh." Titus replied lamely. "You've got a point there. You never really see somebody who's halfway, do you?"

"Maybe they just get too traumatized at some point, and they don't have the energy left to be a ponce."

"Yeah but like... have you seen how those Young Masters are? If they get their ass kicked one week, they'll be pretending it never happened the next."

"Probably happens when they get sent off to war for the first time." Marcellus nodded to himself. "Especially if they lose. They learn what it's like to hold another man's fate in your hands, and what happens when they fuck it up?"

"That's rather grim, isn't it?" Titus mused, looking off into the middle distance. "But at least when they get back they aren't so insufferable, so good on 'em."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

This is the remnant which grew out of a very different idea that was scrapped a while back, long story. I figured it would be funny to dive into the PoV of a couple of ordinary schmucks and see what their day is like, and so I eventually wrote this. Just a couple of lads having some bantz. This was pretty, fun, so I might do another omake with Titus and Marcellus later on.

 

[TehChron]

I was under the impression that the expedition was never about clearing the whole dungeon, just a fun fluff thing for a turn where a bunch of us plunge in. There's no way we'll ever clear it without someone in Nascent anyway.

Click to shrink...

And I don't agree with that assumption

 

[Sirrocco]

I was under the impression that the expedition was never about clearing the whole dungeon, just a fun fluff thing for a turn where a bunch of us plunge in. There's no way we'll ever clear it without someone in Nascent anyway.

Click to shrink...

That's not what he said.

The Cloud Demon Caves have been unlocked from next turn onwards. Every twenty years Manuel will take a group of the most promising juniors to go explore a Secret Realm. There are no limitations by level, and there are unlimited rolls until you either conquer the Secret Realm or get kicked out. Fair warning - for characters under high Core Formation levels of power, your chances of solving the Secret Realm are negligible.

Click to shrink...

So high core formation apparently has a viable shot at it. Just... have a couple of LSTs saved up.

Now, fi you don't expect that you'll ever make it that far, then you could head in early as a way of just rolling the bones to see what you get, but... it might not end well for you.

 

[Quest]

Antonius Emmanuel Eleanora 46
[Turn 6]
[The Imperial Soup 1]​

With his eyes closed, Antonius felt strangely blind to the world. It wasn't as if his other senses had deserted him, but it was only after being led down through crowded streets did he realise how much he relied upon sight.

Smell wasn't any help. The air was filled with the smell of steam and spices which could really be anywhere in Mogui City. The sounds of voices around him were overlapping into a cacophony and all his sense of touch gave him was the occasional brush against another person all of which helpfully reminded him he was in the streets.

His spiritual senses weren't any more useful. They let him sense who was around him and weave around the crowds as they moved, but that was it. His ability to tell where they were going was easily thwarted by his inability to read signs and identify buildings.

"Where are we going?" He asked out loud, finally giving up on guessing. He felt Corvina slow down and felt the blob of qi that must have been her head turn towards him.

He felt her squeeze his hand. "The whole point of asking you to close your eyes and trust me, is for you to close your eyes and trust me." She replied, turning back to look at the direction she had been pulling him in. "Anyway, don't worry. We're almost there."

Corvina kept them on course as far as he could tell and he realised they must have come this way behind his back. His focus fell on Yahwen who was right behind him and was doing the spiritual equivalent of keeping her face blank though he still got a sense of anticipation from her. He was fairly certain if it was her rather than Corvina who asked, he'd have been far more suspicious.

Xiao Yingzi was harder to read. Her aura was naturally hard to understand but right now, she was actively suppressing it. He could only catch her presence when her concentration slipped, presumably when she was moving out of someone's path. Was that a game she had made up or just a way of casual training? It could be both with her.

What kind of surprise did they have planned for him? This wasn't really a special occasion and he couldn't recall if he'd mentioned if there was any place in Mogui City where he really wanted to go. In theory, there were several places for several reasons but none that he'd actively mentioned. "We're here," Corvina called out, coming to a stop.

Antonius stopped behind her and quickly opened his eyes to see where they were. He blinked, in his haste he hadn't considered the brightness. He turned his head away from the brightness until his eyesight adjusted. Antonius glanced at Corvina curiously but she just smiled and nodded in the direction she was looking.

Yahwen took the cue to explain. "This is where-"

"Oi. Don't ruin it." Corvina said with a grin, cutting her off. "I want to see his reaction." Then she turned her attention back to him. "Come on. Over there," She said, pointing to where she wanted him to look. He hesitated, looking at Yahwen who grinned and nodded encouragingly.

So he reluctantly turned to the direction she indicated.

A large restaurant stood before him with people in various levels of cultivation streaming in and out. It was a bit richer than usual, but it wasn't very different from other establishments in the city. He didn't really recognise it, but something itched at the back of his mind. Through some instinct he glanced up at the name written in stylised letters.

The Imperial Soup​

A lump formed in his throat.

His eyes went even higher, to a tower jutting up from it's roof, rising higher than the surrounding buildings and then suddenly narrowed into a chimney with smoke flowing out. Near the very end, just before the narrowing began there was a room that you could easily miss if you didn't know that it was there.

He swallowed and turned to his friends.

Yahwen smiled lightly. Corvina looked smug at whatever expression he must have been making. Even Xiao Yingzi was standing nearby, being as close to encouraging as she could be. "How did you even know?" He asked, looking to each of them for an answer.

"Lady Ariadne got in touch with me as soon as she heard we were passing through." Corvina explained. "She made all the arrangements."

"Ah." He asked, turning from her and back to the restaurant. He glanced at the entrance and then up at the room at the end of the tower. "Thank you."

Corvina nodded, giving him a smile. Yahwen leaned in between them and raised an eyebrow. "Let's go in?"

He nodded and just looked at the room at the top of the tower. "Just give me a moment." For a moment, he thought he almost spotted the comical sight of a woman carrying a man twice her size on her back because the man had too low of a cultivation and they needed to get up the tower.

Then he shook his head and sighed. His parents wouldn't be here right now. He looked at the entrance of the restaurant and felt something well up inside him. A strange feeling that rooted him to the spot and wouldn't let him take a step forward.

Then an arm snaked under his own.

He turned to see Yahwen close having locked her arm with his. He frowned at her but she grinned at him. "Come on." She said, practically pulling him inside. He turned to Corvina who gave him a wry smile. She still held his other hand but was now the one being pulled along.

Then Antonius was distracted by the fresh water splashing on his face, except it wasn't really water but qi in the air kept dense with clan arrays and kept carefully neutral so as to be refreshing but not offensive to any particular dao. Antonius instinctively began to breathe it in to augment his internal reserves.

There were attendants all over - all kitchenhands of the Shimmering Soup Sect - in crisp white uniforms and with impeccably polite demeanours. They guided their customers to private rooms so that they could enjoy the personalised meals prepared by the Soup Masters in the kitchen.

It was just as his parents had told him.

He took a deep breath and let it out, trying to relax as one of the kitchenhands noticed them and began approaching. The man walked up to them with a smile, causing Yahwen to slow down and then he gave them a small bow. "May I help you?" He asked them.

Corvina drew a letter from storage and stepped forward, giving the man a similar bow. As she handed him the letter, Antonius noted the Taurus Clan Seal on it's front. "We have a booking under the name of Acting Legate Ariadne Taurus," She answered, causing the attendant to raise an eyebrow.

He quickly grabbed the letter and made sure to check that the bronze seal was both genuine and unbroken, before he opened it. As he began to read it, his eyes grew wider. Finally, he looked up and gave the slightest of nods before neatly folding the letter and handing it back.

"Will you be needing advice on your choices for the evening?" The kitchenhand asked, giving another bow that was deeper than before.

Corvina nodded. "Yes, please."

"I will make the arrangements." He said, giving another bow. "If you'll follow me?"

Once more, Antonius found himself pulled along by both the women beside him as the kitchenhand led them down one of several hallways lined with private rooms until he finally stopped at one and opened the door. "This one is the one that has been arranged for you." The kitchenhand explained. "Please feel free to take your seats and peruse our menus. Your sommelier will be with you shortly."

Yahwen finally unhooked her arm from his and gave him a quick smile before entering the room first. Antonius watched her go and siddle into one of two long seats on a single table before turning to Corvina. "Hey," He said, giving her a smile as he held up his hand still held in hers.

Corvina looked at their hands and quickly pulled hers back before giving him a sheepish grin. "I'll grab my seat then," She said, before heading in quickly and taking the seat opposite from where Yahwen was sitting.

Antonius smiled as a thought occurred to him. When his father had first come here, he'd faced a similar situation. He'd had to choose to sit with either his aunt, the Taurus clan heiress or his mother, the auxiliary. Corvina and Yahwen weren't very far from the same description.

He'd sat next to his mother of course rather than risk sitting next to the Young Mistress in foundation and the rest was history. His history. He glanced between the seats, feeling the weight of history. He wondered what sort of repercussions his own choice here would have?

There was a slight tug on his clothes and he turned to see Xiao Yingzi looking up at him. "Can I go in, please?" She asked and he realised he was blocking the way.

"Yes, of course." He replied, moving aside. She nodded in thanks before moving to sit besides Yahwen. Antonius blinked for a moment, realising how easily that choice had been taken away from him. Then he smiled and took a seat next to Corvina. She turned to him and raised her eyes at his expression to which he could only shake his head.

"It's nothing," He replied. "Just a passing thought." Then he leaned forward and looked down at the menu. "So who wants what?"

__ _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Part one of three I think. For reference, the location is where Antonius' parents Emmanuel and Eleanora met. The events happen here and in the two makes right after if anyone wants to refresh their memories.

 

[Mochinator]

Jin Muyi:_______________The War-Brave and The Stranger_________________

It was the greatest upheaval not just in living memory but also in Desert History.
The Blood Cannibals removed as a power of the Desert, their lands divided and portioned off to the Golden Devils and their ilk,
Old Cannibal being forced to flee the desert and into other areas to re-carve his kingdom of blood and corpses.
Forbidden lands which had only known the presence of Blood path cultivators turned to lands of treasure and fortune,
it's past threats ensuring the bounty within ripe for anyone to discover and prosper.

For some though, this was the moment that they had been waiting for.
The golden opportunity that members of their tribe had bled and die for.
The reward for untold generations of slavery and servitude to Old Cannibal that brought a one mighty Nation to a Tribe eking out it's existence by being too insignificant. "HAVOC" they cried as they reclaimed their ancestral lands with tooth an claw...​

War-brave Mourning Shepherd looked upon the Braves of his Tribe and found that it was good. This was the greatest strength the Tribe had been able to assemble in generations with more then half of them being able to manifest an aspect of The Great Beetle and ten of them even able to manifest two or more aspects.

Yes, we would have to thank the Golden Devils.. If it wasn't for the two wars they had against the Cannibals, we won't have been able to build up such strength without being noticed. Now, we just need them to aid us once more, just once more....

Mourning Shepherd's half prayer-like thoughts were broken by the sound of running feet before a messenger darted through the war-tent's entrance.

"It's done! Old Cannibal has left the desert with the strongest of his subordinates! "

The news of the best hoped for outcome coming true sent a wave of adrenaline down Mourning Shepherd's spine. Unknown to him, his lips started to form a vicious grin that sent fire blazing down the veins of his Braves.

"Excellent! Come my Braves and follow me! Just like the tales of our forefathers, i call for a Great Coup! Join me as we show these growers on our lands what it it means to offend the BeetleKin!"

"OHALAOOP!OHALAOOP!OHALAOOP!OHALAOOP!OHALAOOP!OHALAOOP!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They came out of the sunset not like the Beetle they were named as and instead like the locusts that could ravage a town in a single day. And just like the locusts, so did the BeetleKin ravage the towns build on their ancestral lands with an orgy of bloodshed and violence.

Some of these towns knew the BeetleKin. They traded with them, had marriages with them and even went to war with them against others seeking their water. None of these facts and long history spared them, for with a given signal the BeetleKin within struck down the warding arrays, slayed the guards while they were unwary and even cut-down their Kin who resisted.

Not all the towns fell smoothly for as words of the Great Coup spread, the BeetleKin within were cut down without mercy forcing the Tribe to confront the townsfolk head on. It was in these battles that Mourning Shepherd proved why he was the War-Brave of the tribe, for the Shell of the Great Beetle allowed him to take blows that would have killed any other cultivator while the Sickles of the Great Beetle were the sharpest blade that allowed him to cut his foe in twain. The humming wings of the Great Beetle allowed him to move in a unpredictable fashion while Eyes of the Great Beetle allowed him to gaze all around him.

Many were the famous cultivators that he slew. Tie Gua the Iron Hammer. Yin Sa of the Horned Spear. Quan Xue of the Water Palm. Seven Blade Tou. Serpent Whip Cui were some of the famed names that fell beneath his claws, their bodies used to feed the beetles of the Tribe and their souls given over to the Great Beetle.

Not all of the names were unknown to Mourning Shepherd. In better times, he had dueled with some, gone adventuring with some and even made love to some. But like the BeetleKin of the Towns, he was Tribe and they were not. That was all that mattered in the end, in this time of great upheaval regardless of how much it hurt to do so.

With their champions slain, town after town fell to the Beetlekin. The Wings of the Great Beetle allowing the BeetleKin to strike with great speed and power as Mourning Shepherd lead the way as the spearhead of the Great Coup. In the span of a single year the lands of the BeetleKin had tripled in size and would have grown even bigger if the Great Beetle had not warn the tribe to stop.

Now as he looked out at all that he achieved, the words of the dying sounded out once more in the confines of his head.

"Shepherd? Why....?"

"YOU MONSTER, I'M GONNA WIPE-OUT YOUR ENTIRE STINKING TRIBE FOR THIS."

"I thought we were friends...."

"We don't have to do this, surely we can come to an agreement!"

"SHEEEEPHERD!!!"

"Oh? You think your new trick would allow you to finally beat me?"

"Shepherd... Was this all worth it?"

Looking out at the wide open desert and the tribesmen as they lead the Beetles out to graze, Mourning Shepherd found himself answering the dead out loud.

"Aye, it was all worth it. This was our land and not yours."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was the 5th anniversary of the success of the Great Coup. Just like the previous years, the BeetleKin had celebrated their victory by hosting a great party with all of the tribe gathered from their wanderings to enjoy wine and song.

For Mourning Shepherd, each year had proved that he made the right choice. The Tribe had grown in both strength and wealth, their beetles growing fat and big with their carapace shining like a cluster of stars. Without needing to fear the Cannibals consuming their young talents, most of the tribe had become able to manifest two aspects of the Great Beetle something that in the years goneby would have been cause for great celebration.

It was in this merriment that the Stranger came by mounted on a Jade Qilin. Moving carefully, the duo steered their way through the drunken crowd, side-stepping the ones passed out on the ground and dodging the enthusiastic attempts to drag them into the dance around the bonfire.

Finally making his way to Mourning Shepherd, the Stranger found that unlike the rest the man was sober and watching him with a expression of both resignation and determination. Before the Stranger could open his mouth, he found himself halted by a raised palm as Mourning Shepherd spoke.

" The Stranger aye? I heard of you. I can guess why you're here. The stories said that you're one of the Golden Devils and mayhaps here to bring Law and Order to this land. Great Beetle knows that it could use it. There's been no such thing here since the Cannibals took over the land from my ancestors.

You're probably here for my head? For what i did to help my people reclaim our lands?"

At The Stranger's nod, Mourning Shepherd continued on.

"I knew this day would come. I'm not that inclined to just turn it over to you. I'm all that's stopping the foes of my tribe from taking vengeance on them. Ain't no one within the Tribe strong enough to take my role as War-brave just yet. You either have to wait till my tribe has someone who can do so, or you'll have to use some of that Golden Devil Authority to confirm my tribe's ownership of our lands if you wanna take me in now."

"That can be arranged. Your tribe will need to pay reparations to the survivors of the towns and release from chattel-hood all that want to leave the Tribe. Do that and i'll confirm ownership of the lands to your Tribe on behalf of the Golden Devils."

"Well then Mr Stranger, it strikes me that we have a deal! Now where do you wanna do this? We have a nice flat cliff over yonder..."

None of the tribe knew of the deal till they woke up from their drunken stupor to the babbling of one of the tribe orphans. He had been serving Mourning Shepherd wine and was brought along as witness to the duel between the two.

They stood before each other and yet their actions were the same.
Lord Shepherd called on the full blessing of the Great Beetle, manifesting it's Carapace, it's Wings, it's Sickles and it's Eyes.
The Stranger had to have a totem of his own for i saw upon him jade green scales, claws of a great beast and horns that sparkled with lightning.
They did not trade a single word before clashing with each other in a thunderous slam.
From what i could see they were naught but a fist apart and both struck at each other without any attempt to dodge
with Sickles scrapping away at scales in a shower of sparks and claws scratching lines into the Lord's Carapace.
I can't tell how long they struck at each other, only they got faster and faster
before turning into a blur of black and green colliding in a shower of sparks.
All i knew was that at the end when they came to a halt, there was a claw through Lord Shepherd
and his Sickle was buried in one of the Stranger's horns.
The Stranger just took Lord Shepherd away before telling me to inform the Tribe of Lord Shepherd's last act.​

Extract from the Lay Of Mourning Shepherd. (PUB 5 years after the Great Coup)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[1654 words]

This one is my attempt at writing from the Native American POV for my XIanxia Western. Not a really good job, but i hoped it conveyed the idea of one of the Great Bandit being one not from greed or for power but instead from fanaticism to his Tribe.

I actually thought up quite a bit on the Totem system and how it came to be for the BeetleKin but could not found an organic way to insert it in. If anyone would wants to use them and would like more details, feel free to ping me.

@Humbaba for the Threadmark please.

 

[occipitallobe]

So, everybody gets one chance period, regardless of great realm... sounds like something to wait until a much higher level for. though then again, being powerful doesn't actually affect fate rolls, so I'm not sure how that would all work. @occipitallobe how does personal strength affect the trip, if it does at all?

Click to shrink...

There'll be a mechanics post for this one later on.

 

[Quest]

Antonius Emmanuel Eleanora 47
[Turn 6]
[The Imperial Soup 2]​

There was a knock on the door.

The four of them looked at each other and then at the door. "Come in." Corvina called out.

The door opened to reveal a handsome young man in a chef's uniform with an aura of one in foundation establishment. He glanced over the four of them before nodding. "I will be your sommelier this evening." He told them. "Now tell me, have any of you perused the menu already?"

Corvina raised her hand. "I wanted something that wasn't on the menu but I know you have offered before. Would that be alright?"

The sommelier looked her over with a critical eye. "I can't make any promises but I will do what I can. What do you have in mind?"

"I'm a Seer descended from one Wilhelmina Taurus," Corvina explained. "I believe that she came to your Soup Lord for a specific brew that deepened her sight. I was hoping for something similar to that?"

The sommelier blinked. "Wilhelmina Taurus..." He whispered, thinking. "Yes, I do recall a recipe designed for such a person. She was a Legate, yes?"

Corvina nodded. "That's her. I believe the soup was called the Fumes of Pythea?"

The sommelier nodded. "Based on an ingredient the clan made available to us, yes." He considered it for a second. "I don't think we can prepare the original recipe on such short notice but we have the ingredient in stock and we should be able to create a lesser variant."

"Oh." Corvina replied, looking disappointed. But she nodded after a moment. "That will do, thank you."

"Of course." The sommelier nodded at her. "I will have that prepared."

"What does that one do exactly?" Yahwen asked curiously. "I've never heard of the fumes of pythea."

"It's a seer thing." Corvina answered before realising that would do nothing to stem Yahwen's curiosity. "They create a form of advanced synesthesia that allows your sixth sense to impose sensations onto the physical body. For a seer with a focused mind, it allows a deeper level of interpretation of the future."

Yahwen blinked and turned to Antonius. "It's like… closing your eyes to focus on the qi around you but for seers." He explained, to which she nodded.

Corvina sighed. "That's what I said."

Yahwen stuck her tongue out at her. "Antonius' explanation was better."

The sommelier glanced at Yahwen. "And what about you, young lady? Have you thought of what you want?"

"Ah, no." She admitted, glancing through the book of recipes. "There is a lot to pick from."

The sommelier looked at her and considered it. "Based upon your bloodline, would you prefer the Crescent-blade Moonsoup in order to refine your blade qi?"

Yahwen blinked and looked away. Antonius leaned forward out of concern. "I know you like new experiences." Antonius suggested. "How about the Soul-severing Venom? My mother mentioned it."

The sommelier looked at him curiously. Yahwen glanced at the recipe book. "You mean the one that makes you experience an extremely diluted sense of Nascent Soul cultivation?" She replied, looking at Antonius with an eyebrow raised. "I know I said I like new experiences but I don't really enjoy pain."

Antonius shrugged but gave her a sheepish smile. "Then what do you want then?"

"Um." Yahwen glanced down at the recipe book and then up at the Sommelier. She took a breath. "I think I'll have the moonsoup."

Corvina leaned forward as well."Are you sure? You don't have to if you don't want to."

Yahwen nodded resolutely. "I know. I'm sure."

"If you are sure," Antonius replied before turning to the sommelier who nodded.

"That will be arranged then." He replied and then he turned towards Antonius. "And what about you, young man? Do you want anything in particular?"

Antonius thinks for a moment. "Do you have anything for focusing on the dao?"

The sommelier considers it. "Perhaps. Am I correct in assuming from your bronze skin that you have a particularly strong expression of the Blood of Bronze?"

Antonius sighed. "Not quite. Mine is a new mutation. Would that be a problem?"

"What are its characteristics?" The sommelier asked.

"Halved lifespan and accelerated cultivation." Antonius replied. "It seems to absorb qi from multiple sources without any issues and the reduced lifespan comes from it absorbing my own resources to enrich my bronze blood."

The sommelier frowns. "I'm unsure what qualities would result in that. While we have some information on the standard blood of bronze and other local bloodlines, your bloodline is unique enough that I'd like some time to understand it before providing any offers."

Antonius nodded. "That's what I thought. Do you have anything that just tastes good rather than affects cultivation?"

The sommelier considered it. "A focus on the taste, presumably not to the extent that it turns into a mind-altering effect?" Antonius raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Do you have a particular preference?"

"Maybe something sweet?" He said carefully.

The sommelier nodded. "Excellent! That should be doable." His eyes turned from each of them until they finally came to rest on Xiao Yingzi. Or more specifically, her shadow. "You also seem to have an interesting method of cultivation."

Xiao Yingzi nodded and leaned forward as the attention fell on her. "It is an emotion-eater." She replied. "It drains my qi of emotion and grants me a more refined essence that I use to push to a higher level of cultivation."

"Interesting indeed but certainly not as hard to understand as the man's bloodline." The man considered. "I can probably think of several mixtures that could interact beneficially with that but it is rare enough that I would still hesitate to suggest anything specific your first time here. I wonder… does it go out of control at any time?"

Xiao Yingzi nodded again. "It is often unruly, but I struggle with controlling it especially when I make the jump to another realm. My cultivation process requires that it reach the next realm before me, if only by seconds."

"Requiring you to subdue it every time." The sommelier concluded. "And how is your cultivation going in general?"

"I have just reached the third heavenstage with the aid of my seniors," Xiao Yingzi replied, giving them a thankful nod. "However, I am currently having trouble with the acu-point awareness stage. My reliance on my spirit seems to have left me with a reduced understanding of the flows within my body."

"Then how about a variation on the meridian-cleansing soup paired with the demon-flushing spice?" The sommelier suggested.

Xiao Yingzi glanced at the book of recipes she had been reading before looking back up at him with a frown. "That was a standard blend that aids the meridian opening process and encourages an open mindset for thinking. I can see how that would aid my ability to feel the flow of qi in my body but what sort of variation are you suggesting?"

"I would suggest adding a second accompaniment - specifically the sin-awakening tincture." The sommelier replies. "It is traditionally used to aid mortals attempting to breach the first heavenstage by drawing out their qi through intense emotion. For you personally, it should give you a strong sense of how emotional qi functions when taken with the demon-flushing spice."

"That certainly sounds useful." Xiao Yingzi replied. "Have you used it before? How long do you think the effect would last?"

"While I have not tested this particular mixture, the practise of exposing oneself to an opposing Dao in order to better understand one's own is fairly well-established." He explains. "I would say that the understanding should last for ten years - perhaps more as you have not truly begun establishing your dao. It is difficult to retain insights of an opposing force, however."

Xiao Yingzi bows. "That is satisfactory. I will take this soup."

The sommelier nodded and turned to leave before hesitating at the door. "Is there anything else?" Corvina asked him.

He turned around with a frown and his eyes landed on the one man that was among them. "I heard a friend of mine had a son with a unique bloodline," He said carefully, looking at him. "She was a close friend of Ariadne as well. Is your mother's name Eleanora by any chance?"

Antonius blinked, unprepared to meet someone who knew his parents. "Ah." He replied. "How did you know her?"

"I was their Sommelier as well as your aunt's," He replied, giving him a slight smile. "I actually served them when she met your father."

"Oh." Antonius said, considering how to word his question. "Have you heard anything about them recently?"

The man shook his head. "Last I heard, you were born." He explained. "And then they were too busy to visit. I haven't heard from them since then." Antonius exchanged looks with his friends which caused the sommelier to frown. "Are they alright?"

Antonius sighed, took a deep breath and told him what had occurred in the Yuan Secret Realm. The more he said, the whiter the man's expression got before he had a hand on his head and was leaning against the wall. "I knew the golden devils were going through some difficulties, but I never imagined..."

Antonius hesitated. "Were you close?" He finally asked.

The man sighed. "Perhaps not so much." He replied. "We only knew each other for a few years at most while your mother worked at Mogui City and after that, after that we only met when they came back here."

Antonius frowned. "I do think you can get to know a person very well in a few years," He replied, glancing at his own friends. "It's the quality of the experience that matters, not the amount."

The sommelier shrugs. "Perhaps," He replied before looking at him. "You are travelling in part to find a cure, aren't you?" Antonius nodded. "Let me know if I can do anything to help. Otherwise… will you excuse me? Your orders will be sent down, but I believe I may need a break."

Antonius nodded, not sure what else to say and the man gave him a small smile before leaving. He turned to Corvina and Yahwen who shrugged. They waited in silence, unable to really think of anything to say after that.

Then Antonius blinked and stood up. "I never got his name." Before anyone could say anything, he rushed out.

 

[Quest]

Antonius Emmanuel Eleanora 48
[Poetry]
[The Three Boars and the Demon Wolf]​

Once there was a clan of boars
With three sons, but no single heir
To prove themselves, their father said
An equal contest was only fair

Go forth my sons, he told them then
And show me how you can stand alone
For the ruling king needs no support
Go build homes and clans of your very own

So went the first boar, the lover of beauty
And sat and spun till his fingers were raw
He desired a home that would fill all with envy
And so built a house made of golden straw

So went the second boar, the lover of life
Who went and grew a home of living wood
As he desired a home that could live and grow
And also to show that he could

So went the third boar, the pragmatic one
And built his home with sturdy brick
He knew well the dangers of the plains
And so he built his walls both tall and thick

He feared both beasts and bandits
Both the hungering and covetous eyes
And lo and behold came a hungry wolf
Cunning and slinking, slobbering by

First it approached the house of straw
Sure and confident was it's sauntering walk
The boar tried to reason, to lead it away
But the hungering wolf was in no mood to talk

As the boar's words died upon it's lips
The wolf gave a grin that showed it's teeth
It sucked in a breath, its lungs like great bellows
The boar simply ran, it's feet clambering in retreat

He left behind the home he'd built
He turned his ears from the straw that fell
He ran to the second boar for help
Chose the house of wood as his new dwell

The second boar welcomed him in
Paying no mind to the wolf following his trail
Sure steps faltering before the house of wood
The second boar was certain that he would fail

Though the wolf huffed and puffed
All the second boar did was smirk
The wooden house was unshaken
So he left the wolf out to lurk

The morning came with a great crash
The wood torn apart by tooth and claw
The breath wasn't the wolf's only weapon
Forgetting that was the boar's flaw

Once more the two boars fled
Sheer luck having saved their skin
They begged for help in the home of brick
The third boar sighed but took them in

All three hid behind the walls of brick
When they heard the wolf's lumbering walk
It's winds could not blow the house away
It's claws returned only answering mocks

It slunk around as the three boars watched
Before retreating away, with no food to eat
The three boars rejoiced in luck and fortune
They took courage from the wolf's defeat

But with no common enemy, the question came
Who of the three would be fit to lead?
The third boar was clearly the winner
But the other two didn't wish to concede

Arguments flew as two turned against one
But further disagreements were broken by a knock
All eyes went up to the sturdy door
And then onto the thankfully sturdy lock

The first boar went to look through the peeping hole
He saw a woman there, barely twenty years old
Shivering in merely a torn and bloody cloak
He still found her beautiful to behold

Then the second boar went to check
He saw the blood on her cloak, drenched red
His eyes traced the tears made by claws
He saw her eyes glimmering with tears unshed

The third boar saw all they saw
He refused to let in one none of them knew
When his brothers argued against it
He threatened to throw them out too

Fists flew as two turned against one
The second boar finally held down the third
While the first went to open the door
He didn't stop, all warnings left unheard

The door opened and the woman entered
So beautiful, with a smile so warm
With every eye upon her, she walked in
And pulled back her cloak, revealing her form

What big ears you have, the first boar frowned
His eyes on the lengthening ears on her head
She smiled, and broke his skull with fists
All the better to hear you with, she said

What big eyes you have, the second boar fearfully said
Looking at her yellowing eyes and lengthening face
As the red cloak ripped apart to show fur
The wolf girl just killed him and moved apace

What big teeth you have, the third boar said
He knew his fate, his voice was resigned
All the better to eat you with, it gloated
If only your brothers weren't so blind

Then the wolf gave a smile that showed it's teeth
It held up the claws meant to rip men apart
It leaned forward, exulting in the moment
Then it went and ripped out his heart

It finished it's meal and regained it's strength
Then it left to settle an old score
With its newfound strength it was sure
It could break open the home of father boar

 

[Olivebirdy]

When we have a moment, I'd like to put an Intrigue action into Jingshen. It would be nice to know how close they are to making a third Nascent Soul. Old Jingshen wanted us to believe that he needed 60 extra Wealth over six turns.

I'd also like a Diplomacy action on the Heavenly Bandit Kingdom. It's listed as (Enemy) on the map, so might be easier to turn. It's between Jingshen and the Spirit Oasis, and between Jingshen and their new lands. If we turned and fortified them and either The Sixty Kindom Alliances or The Grand Scorpion Sect, we'd cut Jingshen off from the Spirit Oasis or their new territory respectively.

 

[occipitallobe]

The man had wandered into the Dawn Fortress and asked to speak to Manuel Konstantinos.

Ordinarily that sort of thing was met with laughter, but the squat man had let out a hint of his aura, and left two guardsmen weeping on the floor.

Manuel had been inside the fortress, cultivating.

He'd felt a wisp of Nascent aura, and the defenses all activated, old wills of long-past elders springing to a facsimile of life, preparing to expend themselves against the enemies of the Clan. Translucent ghosts of bronze hovered around him, each of them incredibly strong if only for a few strikes.

He flew into the courtyard, not bothering to land.

Peculiar.

in front of him stood a squat, ugly man, with no hint of cultivation whatsoever. If Manuel couldn't see through his cultivation...

It meant there was some peculiar art using a mortal at play, or a Spirit Severing Elder had decided to dictate terms to him.

With a thought, he dismissed the wills. They would be useful in neither situation.

Nobody living had seen the Nascent Wills summoned before, but the raw power they projected would not be easily forgotten. Manuel restrained himself whenever he was in the Dawn Fortress, and while the Nascent Wills were only passing images of elders now gone, their aura would be enough to terrify and pain many of the cultivators and mortals below. Thankfully they had not begun to fight - the consequences for the Fortress itself would've been terrible. Still, he foresaw months of nightmares and ill health for many, and no doubt a rash of heart attacks and the like as well.

Manuel inclined his head.

"May I ask why you wanted to see me?"

The man grinned, and Manuel realised he was barely a man at all. More a puppet, something hacked together from various corpses, the Qi all drained out and hidden somewhere within it. Blood burst from the skin, and then new skin from beneath it, bones and skin and flesh growing and pushing off the old flesh as though it were a mere suit to be discarded.

Even the teeth popped out one by one, the sewn-on head's skull splitting as a new head grew out from within it.

Viscera and blood on the ground, a handsome - and quite naked - young man stood. Long black hair descended around his face, and his eyes were pools of compelling, deep brown. Taller than Manuel by almost half a foot, his body seemed more fit for a twenty-year old than someone who might well have reached two thousand.

He smiled.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Manuel Konstantinos. I would give you my name, but your cultivation is a bit too low for that."

Manuel froze, thoughts whirling. Getting this wrong would be disadvantageous, but getting it right would offer him a small piece of tempo in the conversation, a few seconds more to think. There were only two people in the Region who outstripped his cultivation so thoroughly, and only one was a man. He could be someone else entirely, but the balance of probabilities seemed to favour...

He bowed.

"I have heard much of you, Altar Lord, Grand Elder of the Demonic Altar Sect. How can I assist you?"

The Altar Lord laughed, and waved a hand. The blood and bone was picked up, weaving itself into a beautiful red-and-white hanfu.

"I can only maintain this form for a few minutes, but no doubt it would be sufficient for me to wreak some havoc."

Manuel tensed.

"Oh, relax, old man. I'm not here for that. Would I be talking to you if I was? Honestly, that's the problem with so many people nowadays. Always assuming there needs to be a fight, or at least not valuing good conversation. Even if we're enemies, there's no reason to be uncouth. I wish my counterpart would understand that - when you have so few peers and so little time, an enjoyable talk should be an end in and of itself."

Altar Lord brought out - from somewhere - a teapot carved from bone.

"Tea?"

Manuel nodded.

As the water was boiled, Altar Lord poured a few small tealeaves into it. Manuel stopped in shock. Those were Dao-Yearning Tea Leaves, the sort of tealeaves that could only be found on Turtlebone Mountain and took millennia to mature. Drinking tea made from them would gift him years of cultivation and comprehension, a treasure that even he could not bring out.

They sat on the sandy ground of the courtyard, Manuel using a bare trickle of power to shift the guardsmen away slowly. Better that nobody saw any of this.

After letting it steep, Altar Lord poured two cups.

Manuel raised a cup, delving into it with his Dao. No, nothing there that Altar Lord didn't want him to know. Not poisoned, though Dao-Yearning Tea was proof against practically all poison in any case, one of the many reasons it was prized so highly by Nascent Souls.

He drank, and in a moment of utter comprehension found himself pushed forward. He felt the vague, shadowy connections of the world becoming clear, and in one perfect moment he grasped-

It was gone. Yet what he had seen would guide his footsteps along the path of cultivation for decades or even centuries to come.

He spoke.

"Good tea."

Altar Lord nodded in agreement.

"I have a question for you."

Manuel looked over warily.

"Ask, but I may not answer."

The boyish man laughed.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to catch you out or harm you. You've done evil things, as have we all. Do you feel the things you've done have been justified by the ends you've sought?"

Manuel looked back at his life. His friends, his apprentice... was it justified? In the face of annihilation, what was not? No, he hated the things he had done, but Imperator help him... he could not have done otherwise.

"...Yes."

Altar Lord looked unconcerned.

"Did you know if you'd lied there, I might have tried to kill you regardless of my aims here? People who have no true aim, no end but to clamber higher and higher towards a greater power, running up a hill with no peak... they disgust me. But in you, old man, I see myself."

Manuel raised one eyebrow doubtfully.

"No, no. Not in the way you think. It's more... there are ends worth pursuing, and there are the possible means used to pursue them. I've been pursuing a certain set of ends all my life, and the blood on my hands and that of my Sect simply reflect that. I'm the same, though. I think the ends I've sought have more than justified my means, though you're not aware of them."

He chuckled.

"You're probably thinking I'm here to subvert you, to try and turn you against the Strength Purity Sect. I want to tell you upfront, you're absolutely correct."

Manuel didn't find himself shocked, but this was... unusual. The way Altar Lord was going about things had put him on the back foot, made him reactive. When you didn't know what the right action was, passivity was more justified. He knew it was sensible to listen, but it still made him uncomfortable.

Altar Lord brushed one of his locks of hair out of his face, and spoke in an earnest tone.

"I want you to cut off the Spirit Stones to the Strength Purity Sect, and I want to give you the entire Desert by way of compensation. I also want to sow dissension between you and the Righteous Path. Simply by having these meetings you'll face mistrust, regardless of their outcomes. You have no choice but to meet with me - the damage I could do otherwise is incalculable, even if I merely chose to hand out a few nice legacies to some promising juniors. The art I'm using is quite punishing, and I imagine I'll lose twenty or thirty thousand disciples or so as a consequence of having these meetings, as I become a little less able to counter that graceless Wei Princess. I say all this and do all this so you understand - when I am speaking to you I am being quite sincere and honest."

Manuel quelled a laugh, but his lip had quirked up a little bit.

Altar Lord pouted, and shook his head, hair flying across his face. He blew out a puff of air to keep strands off it away from his nose and eyes, and spoke again.

"Don't laugh! It's true. I'm not going to tell you everything I know, but I do pride myself on speaking honestly."

He looked down at his wrist. A tiny spur of bone was jutting out.

"Well, the time has gotten away from me. It was pleasant to meet you, and I look forward to our next two meetings! Don't be late!"

With that said, Altar Lord's flesh simply sloughed off his bones, leaving a skeleton standing in a puddle of liquified flesh in the middle of the courtyard.

Manuel frowned. More meetings? Why? Was the man as obviously straightforward as he said? His Dao couldn't find purchase on anything, leaving him to simply consider what had been said without any sort of supernatural assistance.

After a few moments he resolved to go back to cultivating. He could think on it more there, and Altar Lord had said he would show up again. Better to simply be prepared, and to not show too many signs for the spies in the Dawn Fortress to figure out what had just happened.

That meant, he realised with a heavy heart, he would be cleaning this mess up himself.

 

[Humbaba]

"I want you to cut off the Spirit Stones to the Strength Purity Sect, and I want to give you the entire Desert by way of compensation. I also want to sow dissension between you and the Righteous Path. Simply by having these meetings you'll face mistrust, regardless of their outcomes. You have no choice but to meet with me - the damage I could do otherwise is incalculable, even if I merely chose to hand out a few nice legacies to some promising juniors. The art I'm using is quite punishing, and I imagine I'll lose twenty or thirty thousand disciples or so as a consequence of having these meetings, as I become a little less able to counter that graceless Wei Princess. I say all this and do all this so you understand - when I am speaking to you I am being quite sincere and honest."

Click to shrink...

A very clever and very dangerous man. As he says, we have no choice but to listen to him and accept his 'gifts', which will sow mistrust with Strength Purity and divert their attention.

 

[TehChron]

Nice flex Altar Lord

Quite the way to show our star is on the rise again

 

[Garlak]

Damn. I'd wondered whether the Demonic Alliance would try to contact us and sway us away from the Righteous Powers. Looks like I was right. Though, after a brief search of my posts, I don't think I posted that in-thread anywhere. Still, it was definitely something I was thinking and worrying about. (I did post about the possibility of Old Cannibal getting involved in the War in the Plains opportunistically, but that was different.)

Also, while I was looking through my previous posts, I came across this one too. It's me pointing out that our Core Formation mercenaries action ended on/with Turn 8 -- meaning that we don't have to pay 5 Wealth on Turn 9, but we also have less Core Formation folks too @occipitallobe.

Hm. So...

Is this a sign of desperation on the Demonic Altar grand elder's part? Or is this a sign of "Holy moly, I am so close to achieving great strides and advances in my strategic aims! I do not want this boulder to fall down the hill again! Better make sure that my momentum keeps going forward..."

From how bad the war seemed to be going against the Righteous Powers, I'm thinking it's the second one.

But then, I don't exactly want the Demonic Sects to win in the Plains, because their tactics invariably murder tons of mortals, and their very cultivation literally predates upon mortals, so... Yeah.

 

[Olivebirdy]

"I want you to cut off the Spirit Stones to the Strength Purity Sect, and I want to give you the entire Desert by way of compensation. I also want to sow dissension between you and the Righteous Path. Simply by having these meetings you'll face mistrust, regardless of their outcomes."

Click to shrink...

He's going to need to do better than that. We almost have the entire Desert, especially with Strength Purity Sect too busy trying to hold back Demonic Altar, Gao, Time Shatter and Noble Knowledge now that Ma, Gemstone, Thousand Arrows and Flowers and Bell are on the backfoot or wrecked to back up Jingshen.

And then there's the question of if Demonic Altar doesn't remove Strength Purity Sect as a threat. They'll be sending people in to try to get the spirit stones flowing again.

Then again, with the doubt he's sowing, the Righteous Path might not accept us if we take over as Desert Sovereign.

Is this a sign of desperation on the Demonic Altar grand elder's part? Or is this a sign of "Holy moly, I am so close to achieving great strides and advances in my strategic aims! I do not want this boulder to fall down the hill again! Better make sure that my momentum keeps going forward..."

Click to shrink...

What's it costing him? Seems cheap. Jingshen aren't that powerful compared to Demonic Altar, and he's fighting Strength Purity Sect anyway.

 

[Catpetter1981]

A very clever and very dangerous man. As he says, we have no choice but to listen to him and accept his 'gifts', which will sow mistrust with Strength Purity and divert their attention.

Click to shrink...

Could we just have Manuel go Blood Path and eat the Altar Lord himself?

 

[TehChron]

Could we just have Manuel go Blood Path and eat the Altar Lord himself?

Click to shrink...

Lol hellllll nooooooo

 

[Humbaba]

Could we just have Manuel go Blood Path and eat the Altar Lord himself?

Click to shrink...

To expand on TehChron's response.

1. Manuel wouldn't go blood path. Ever. It's both morally repugnant and would doom the clan via a)his own appetite, b) SPS and Jingshen interfering and all our vassals defecting and/or c) the nascent wills turning on him.
2. Altar Master isn't here, a clone without his actual power is.
3. If Altar Master was here he would paste us even if you gave Manel decades of preptime.

Which is to say. Nope, nope, nope, nope.

 

[Insane-Not-Crazy]

Is there anything we can do with the skeleton left behind by Altar Lord, preferably something far way from our lands when it inevitably turns on us?

 

[Olivebirdy]

Is there anything we can do with the skeleton left behind by Altar Lord, preferably something far way from our lands when it inevitably turns on us?

Click to shrink...

It might be another gift, but Manuel seems to want to get rid of the evidence.

 

[Insane-Not-Crazy]

We just took over a land formerly held by Blood Path. There is getting rid of the evidence and there's getting rid of the evidence while getting some utility out of it under the cover of an uncovered Blood Path legacy. Wouldn't it be a shame if the Jingshen new holdings in Cannibal land were ravaged by a hostile construct uncovered by Jingshen poking around the Blood Path secrets.

 

[Nordlending]

Teatime with the Devil
Altar Lord POV

Spoiler: Altar Lord Pov

He is trying to recruit us into his army.

 

[Faraway-R]

This is an interesting development.

I will say this.

Manuel's ends? They are known to his peers. His everything is devoted to survival of the Golden Devils, by any means necessary.

Altar Lord's ends? They are explicitly unknown to Manuel. They are likely to be unknown to everyone else besides perhaps two groups - his inner circle if he has one. And the Strength Purity Sect's highest authorities.

And so we must ask but this - can we put trust in those ends and the means Altar Lord will take to achieve them? What can we expect from him, when he wins?

Let's go with the generous interpretation of the Altar Lord - he is sincere and honest, and he is willing to cede the entire Desert to us. To the extent that he will maintain the arrangement after his victory. He won. What would the Region look like then?

I could say a lot, but the short of it is he would probably subsume everything he didn't make similar arrangements with... And what next? I see two outcomes, really.

1) He would either leave for greener pastures - leaving us with the Region whose Righteous Powers were wholly devastated and whose Demonic Powers are ripe for a region-wide total war. This is a war that we will be ill-equipped to handle.

2) Or he would amass his powers to break the Region's barriers wide open - destroying one or more of the beasts guarding the borders, to be able to expand. This will be a generous gesture for he will open expansion not just for himself, but for everyone. We would probably be left in a less problematic situation initially, but should the Demonic Powers of our Region be rebuffed, we could expect the counter-invasion from an entirely different Region will eventually reach the Desert and, under the (technically correct) assumption we are a part of the Demonic Powers Coalition, assault us with little mercy on their minds.



And if we go with the not-so-generous interpretation of the Altar Lord, we would live until we outlive our usefulness, that is to say until he decisively puts down the Righteous Powers of the Region, and then we will be left, with only our vassals and the entire Desert, to the tender mercies of the Demonic Powers in the rest of the Region, with no more ablative meatshields (Righteous Powers) between them and us. Even if he holds his own Sect back it isn't a good position to be in.


Edit:
Actually one additional thought.

Who's to say Manuel is the only one whom Altar Lord visited in a similar manner.

That's a very big assumption, and if his goal is strangling the trade, well... He has another group to offer the Desert to.

 

[uri]

Or after winning like most demonic allinces (espacely when containing blood path ) they will turn on one another.

 

[Mochinator]

"I want you to cut off the Spirit Stones to the Strength Purity Sect, and I want to give you the entire Desert by way of compensation.

Click to shrink...

Whelp. He got my vote! I want those mountains back!

I'm very easily bribed

 

[Sirrocco]

Yeah... this can't be the limit of his offer. There's not enough carrot and not enough stick. He's waving around his "I'm an entire realm higher than you" power, certainly, but that's just an opening to force us into negotiations. He's sowing a bit of dissension with Strength Purity, but that almost seems to be a side goal. Switching to his side and having him give us the desert results in an objectively worse position for us, and that can be discerned relatively trivially... so it's not his real purpose. He knew that, too. He didn't even bother making the offer as an offer - just floated the general idea of it. So either there's more to the deal (perhaps significantly more) that he's not yet revealed, or his true purpose here isn't in offering us that deal.

He seems very fond of secrets