INTERREGNUM MONTH 5
- Location
- Somewhere over the rainbow
Martial
Company Hires
DC: 20. Roll: 19 + 2 + 3.2 + 2 + 4.6
You're in luck, apparently - one Etrellan mercenary band, the Horns of Plenty, is currently looking to duck their heads for the next while, so their interests in disappearing into the countryside and your interests of having bodyguards happily coincide.
Interestingly, they don't seem to be as overawed by Ophelia-Oskaria - it could be that the disharmony is reducing the effect, but in the privacy of your mind you're hoping that you're right about the limitations of the spirit of Oskaria.
Intrigue
Whispers
DC: 10. Roll: 22 + 2 + 2 + 6.0 = 32.0.
Diplomacy
Requesting Barony Meetings
DC: 20. Roll: 20 + 2 + 2 + 4.8 = 28.8
You know that you will receive nothing but delays, on account of noble dignity and whatnot. The best that you can get is "we will consider this matter at the soonest convenient date for our parties," which, translated, probably meant in about another month or so, and without delay.
Well. No use hoping for the moon, you supposed.
Stewardship
Calculating Net Losses
DC: 25. Roll: 24 + 2 + 2 + 2 + 6.7 = 36.7
Stewardship
Documenting Conditions
DC: 15. Roll: 24 + 2 + 2 + 0.4 = 28.4
Piety
Reaffirming Oskarian Blessings
DC: 20. Roll: 20 + 1.0 = 21
The Aurora is cold and distant. Ramshackle houses continue to smolder, casting an ominous red gaze over the ashes of the camp. You note another house, and attempt to determine how many people lived here once. It takes you a few minutes, but you find the shards of a few spindles, and that alone tells you somewhere around three spinners lived in this house, which suggested somewhere between two to four foragers also under this roof.
Quietly, you draw a circle, and bury the spindles. That's the best you can do right now.
Ophelia stands at the door, white light gone from her body. Her frame is loosely rigid, like the remains of a sickly old oak devoured from the inside. You can only guess that Oskaria didn't want to spend any more time morosely staring at doors, it appeared.
Just as well for you.
"Come, Ophelia. Let's move on to the other thing we must do," you say, leaving the house behind you.
Ophelia stands unmoving as you pass her by, even now towering over you.
"Is it...really such a good idea? Can we even work with...it?" Ophelia asks quietly.
You sigh. "Let us set that matter aside for now, then. Come, and I will tell you a story."
Ophelia turns and quietly falls in step with you.
"Before I begin the story, I must warn you that it has been some time since I have heard this story recited to me, and unfortunately I was not the one blessed with the gift of tongues.
"Nevertheless," you say, seating yourself. "I shall attempt to relate it in proper fashion, and that means we ought to be seated in a small room beneath a cold ceiling, although on short notice, being seated shall do."
The ground is cold and uncomfortable, and the words stick, the old intonations sounding vaguely off yet resonant.
"There is a story every Colonist is intimately familiar with, since time immemorial. In the long ancient past, so ancient that not even a single stone has survived the passage of such time, once there was our clan. I spin a tale of a time before Justice carved itself out of order, before Wisdom had carved itself out of Time, and before even People carved itself into being. Should you reach far back enough, you would find that our clan predates the kingdoms, the Calamity, and the very rivers and mountains themselves.
"In this long ancient past, our clan eked out its living on the land. We lived, we died, and we prospered in the hills and the caves.
"One day, a Tyrant came down to our ancestral lands and demanded our clan follow its ways. Its ways were foreign, unnatural, and could not possibly sustain us all, so we refused.
"This displeased the Tyrant greatly, and so the Tyrant reached out and scoured one tenth of our clan without the slightest trouble. The Tyrant then threatened that each sunrise we refused to comply, that they would repeat what they had just done. Then, the Tyrant went to sleep.
"For one day and one night, our clan struggled. We tried hitting them - but our fists glanced off their skin. We tried biting - but found that our teeth broke before their skin was even scratched. We hurled stones, but found no more purchase. On and on through the first day and night, and we could not even scratch them.
"So in the midnight hours, we told ourselves that perhaps it was invulnerable when it was sleeping, but when it awoke we would have a chance.
"When the sun rose on the second day, the Tyrant awoke, opened its sleepy eyes, and batted aside our attempts to wound it. Oh, we struggled, but we posed no resistance to the Tyrant, and once again it scoured a tenth of our number before returning to sleep.
"So for the second day, we sat back, hopelessly defeated. Some called to escape the Tyrant, and some called to appease the Tyrant, and still others demanded to live where their ancestors lived and die where their ancestors died, for even in an era so far lost there were still the ancestors.
"And so it was this debate raged for one day and one night. We argued until the sun arose, at which point the Tyrant awoke and once again scoured one tenth of our number, uncaring of our debate."
You pause, and see Ophelia wordlessly watching the stars. From this angle, you cannot tell what she feels. You wonder if you have failed to tell the story correctly, or with the power it should carry, but nevertheless to finish the tale halfway would be a disgrace.
"I wonder if the stories diverge here. Some colonists say that this is where the clan stood, fought, and died, taking down the Tyrant at the cost of nine tenths their number. Others say this is where the clan escaped, leaving the Tyrant to chase echoes in the vast caves until the earth swallowed up the Tyrant.
"For our clan, the Appeaser won control - and so on the fourth sunrise, the Appeaser has the clan bow in reverence to the Tyrant.
'"We will accept your ways,' the Appeaser says. ' We accept your terms, so long as you spare our lives.'
"So our clan lived on beneath the Tyrant, through the depradations and injustices and the violations that the Tyrant visited upon our clan with abandon. We buried more than we birthed in those long years, as years turned into decades turned into lifetimes.
"But even the Tyrant was unable to escape time, and the Tyrant was such an existence such that it could never raise children of its own. So one day, the Tyrant died, and although our clan was halved in number our clan survived, and while the Tyrant themselves died we still carry whatever scraps of knowledge and power the Tyrant gave to us.
"Now, uncountable eons later, our clan lives to tell this story, while even the bones of the Tyrant have been swallowed by the Earth and crumbled into so much dust in the wind."
"That is the story passed down from the first generation to the seventh generation," you finish, breaking out of your rapturous tone. "Perhaps we will be unable to resist the predations of the Tyrant, but so long as we survive the Tyrant's gifts will be ours, and in time even the Tyrant will pass."
Ophelia sighs.
"Okay. Do what you need to do."
Learning
Special Tooling
DC: 25. Roll: 23 + 2 + 0.2
Piety
At the Edges
DC:???. Roll: 16 + 1.9 + 1 = 18.9
"A bust," Tekla says, knees dirty and hands stuffed into his pockets. "Couldn't find anything."
"Mm. Found nothing, or was unable to find conclusions?" you ask.
"Found nothing. Whatever this is, this is pretty far outside the Compact wheelhouse," Tekla angrily mutters. "And there is something - it's just not the usual unusual stuff."
"That…" Cormag says, hesitantly. "We have asked the local spirits, and they said there was nothing there, right?"
"I believe so, yes," you nod.
"So we are dealing with something that is notably atypical, is spiritual in nature, and hides itself from other spirits, correct?" Cormag continues, hands cupped in prayer.
"That about sums it up," Tekla angrily huffs.
"I may have encountered something like this in my studies, but I'm not certain - however, I think there may be someone who knows something nearby. At least, I hope old Palmira's still around…"
Random Event Roll: 36
The smoke plumes on the horizon tell a story. They tell a story of a rogue army of young patriotic men reveling in the murder and destruction of the hated other for which they blame all woes.
You want to interrupt.
But you don't think you can.
In other news, some local baron has made a whole thing out of a hunt they're about to do - which is curious indeed.
Salaries and Wages Expense: 5 Budget
Facilitation Expense: 4 Budget
Mercenary Expense: 5 Budget.
Research Expense: 6 Budget
Net Loss: 20 Budget
Remaining Budget: 94 Budget
The evidence you have laid out is thus far damning in your mind.
You have Regent Coburn's illegal orders to collect taxes multiple times, stamped in his name. You have a visualization and a description of the land he was obligated to protect as part of his domains and his oath to the church, and how he desecrated it with imported labor in contravention to his obligation to denote and regulate immigration into his capacity as minister of State, especially immigration of the special category.
Category one violation: dereliction of his duties to his peers. Category two violation: dereliction of his duty to the Compact.
However, you still lacked evidence of connecting overexploitation to his personal decisions, despite the fact that in order to conceal these work camps from everyone else he had to have been aware that there were work camps violating local agreements on land use. Furthermore, you'd need some proof that this overexploitation was ongoing, rather than a mysterious paroxysm of violence. Without those pieces of proof, however, it would be trivially easy to spin the devastation caused by your foolish introduction of an army into the region to be your fault.
You also lacked hard proof of how they came here in the first place. Hopefully you'd be able to get some answers from what you were tracking down.
Unfortunately, you don't know if you can truly spin a violation of category three: dereliction of duty to vassals. You simply lack enough information to tell.
Cormag advises you to talk with old Palmira.
Kerrie is in agreement that the suspiciously large and ostentatious hunting party is worth checking out.
Ophelia is slightly concerned about how much money you have left.
You need the testimony of the spirits beforehand at some point, and you're not confident in the memories of spirits.
You may spend as much money as you have available. You would be well-advised to find some sources of revenue, before the economy realizes how badly the lumber supply in the region was propped up by all the illegal foresting camps.
You have three [Free] Action that may be spent in any category.
You can cooperate with your teammates to add +3 Base Stat to an action you are cooperating on.
You have four more months to register evidence before you have to start tangling with the new Registrar of Evidence.
Ophelia carries a bright red glow in her role as Ophelia-Oskaria.
Martial (Choose 1) {Ophelia-Oskaria Action}
[] [Martial] Hunting Party
Officially, one local baron is going hunting. Unofficially, there sure are a lot of people in that hunting party. You may as well meet up with them in person. DC: 20. Cost: 2 Budget.
Diplomacy (Choose 1) {Tekla Action}
[] [Diplomacy] Requesting Barony Meetings II
You laid the groundwork, time to see it through. DC: 25. Cost: 6 Budget.
[] [Diplomacy] The Merchant Elite
You don't know if the merchants are aware a market collapse is incoming, but you may as well give them a headsup. They might even pay you for it. DC: 25. Cost: 10 Budget.
[] [Diplomacy] The Cooperatives
On the other hand, if the cooperatives don't find out about the impending lumber supply implosion, they don't have the depth to survive. Truthfully, they probably won't have the depth to survive even with the warning - but maybe this can get you a little bit ahead of the curve. DC: 10. Cost: 0 Budget.
Intrigue (Choose 1) {Kerrie/Agueda Action}
[] [Intrigue] Hunting the Hunters
You want to find out much more about this "hunting party", and you are perfectly happy willing to find out without asking permission. DC: 25? Cost: 0 Budget.
Learning (Choose 1) {Tekla Action}
[] [Learning] Old Palmira
Cormag's mentioned talking to an old woman he calls Old Palmira, who might be able to help you narrow down whatever weird spiritual entities you've caught sight of. DC: 20. Cost: 0 Budget.
[] [Learning] Illusive Gear
It's still probably not safe to show your face - or, well, your body in public. Ditto for Cormag, who has it worse right now. DC: 15. Cost: 2 Budget.
[] [Learning] Trinkets
Your budget is running dangerously low. Perhaps it is time to offload some things. DC: 15. Cost: 0 Budget.
Stewardship (Choose 1) {Ophelia-Oskaria Action}
[] [Stewardship] Registration of Updated Data
You have compiled some more reports, and you want this in public record earlier rather than later. DC: 20. Cost: 1 Budget.
[] [Stewardship] Temporary Labor
If you're hard up on work you could find some odd jobs that levy your crew's vast talents to make some quick money… DC: 20. Cost: 0 Budget.
Piety (Choose 1) {Ophelia-Oskaria Action}
[] [Piety] Requesting Spiritual Testimony
You need testimony of the before times, and hopefully the nature spirits have someone calmed down and might be willing to provide it. DC: 25. Cost: 10 Budget.
[] [Piety] At the Edges II
On the other hand, Tekla feels like he might be able to just find whatever it is is out there by brute force, now that he has a better idea of the problem. DC: 25??? Cost: 2 Budget.
Company Hires
DC: 20. Roll: 19 + 2 + 3.2 + 2 + 4.6
You're in luck, apparently - one Etrellan mercenary band, the Horns of Plenty, is currently looking to duck their heads for the next while, so their interests in disappearing into the countryside and your interests of having bodyguards happily coincide.
Interestingly, they don't seem to be as overawed by Ophelia-Oskaria - it could be that the disharmony is reducing the effect, but in the privacy of your mind you're hoping that you're right about the limitations of the spirit of Oskaria.
Intrigue
Whispers
DC: 10. Roll: 22 + 2 + 2 + 6.0 = 32.0.
Diplomacy
Requesting Barony Meetings
DC: 20. Roll: 20 + 2 + 2 + 4.8 = 28.8
You know that you will receive nothing but delays, on account of noble dignity and whatnot. The best that you can get is "we will consider this matter at the soonest convenient date for our parties," which, translated, probably meant in about another month or so, and without delay.
Well. No use hoping for the moon, you supposed.
Stewardship
Calculating Net Losses
DC: 25. Roll: 24 + 2 + 2 + 2 + 6.7 = 36.7
Stewardship
Documenting Conditions
DC: 15. Roll: 24 + 2 + 2 + 0.4 = 28.4
Piety
Reaffirming Oskarian Blessings
DC: 20. Roll: 20 + 1.0 = 21
The Aurora is cold and distant. Ramshackle houses continue to smolder, casting an ominous red gaze over the ashes of the camp. You note another house, and attempt to determine how many people lived here once. It takes you a few minutes, but you find the shards of a few spindles, and that alone tells you somewhere around three spinners lived in this house, which suggested somewhere between two to four foragers also under this roof.
Quietly, you draw a circle, and bury the spindles. That's the best you can do right now.
Ophelia stands at the door, white light gone from her body. Her frame is loosely rigid, like the remains of a sickly old oak devoured from the inside. You can only guess that Oskaria didn't want to spend any more time morosely staring at doors, it appeared.
Just as well for you.
"Come, Ophelia. Let's move on to the other thing we must do," you say, leaving the house behind you.
Ophelia stands unmoving as you pass her by, even now towering over you.
"Is it...really such a good idea? Can we even work with...it?" Ophelia asks quietly.
You sigh. "Let us set that matter aside for now, then. Come, and I will tell you a story."
Ophelia turns and quietly falls in step with you.
"Before I begin the story, I must warn you that it has been some time since I have heard this story recited to me, and unfortunately I was not the one blessed with the gift of tongues.
"Nevertheless," you say, seating yourself. "I shall attempt to relate it in proper fashion, and that means we ought to be seated in a small room beneath a cold ceiling, although on short notice, being seated shall do."
The ground is cold and uncomfortable, and the words stick, the old intonations sounding vaguely off yet resonant.
"There is a story every Colonist is intimately familiar with, since time immemorial. In the long ancient past, so ancient that not even a single stone has survived the passage of such time, once there was our clan. I spin a tale of a time before Justice carved itself out of order, before Wisdom had carved itself out of Time, and before even People carved itself into being. Should you reach far back enough, you would find that our clan predates the kingdoms, the Calamity, and the very rivers and mountains themselves.
"In this long ancient past, our clan eked out its living on the land. We lived, we died, and we prospered in the hills and the caves.
"One day, a Tyrant came down to our ancestral lands and demanded our clan follow its ways. Its ways were foreign, unnatural, and could not possibly sustain us all, so we refused.
"This displeased the Tyrant greatly, and so the Tyrant reached out and scoured one tenth of our clan without the slightest trouble. The Tyrant then threatened that each sunrise we refused to comply, that they would repeat what they had just done. Then, the Tyrant went to sleep.
"For one day and one night, our clan struggled. We tried hitting them - but our fists glanced off their skin. We tried biting - but found that our teeth broke before their skin was even scratched. We hurled stones, but found no more purchase. On and on through the first day and night, and we could not even scratch them.
"So in the midnight hours, we told ourselves that perhaps it was invulnerable when it was sleeping, but when it awoke we would have a chance.
"When the sun rose on the second day, the Tyrant awoke, opened its sleepy eyes, and batted aside our attempts to wound it. Oh, we struggled, but we posed no resistance to the Tyrant, and once again it scoured a tenth of our number before returning to sleep.
"So for the second day, we sat back, hopelessly defeated. Some called to escape the Tyrant, and some called to appease the Tyrant, and still others demanded to live where their ancestors lived and die where their ancestors died, for even in an era so far lost there were still the ancestors.
"And so it was this debate raged for one day and one night. We argued until the sun arose, at which point the Tyrant awoke and once again scoured one tenth of our number, uncaring of our debate."
You pause, and see Ophelia wordlessly watching the stars. From this angle, you cannot tell what she feels. You wonder if you have failed to tell the story correctly, or with the power it should carry, but nevertheless to finish the tale halfway would be a disgrace.
"I wonder if the stories diverge here. Some colonists say that this is where the clan stood, fought, and died, taking down the Tyrant at the cost of nine tenths their number. Others say this is where the clan escaped, leaving the Tyrant to chase echoes in the vast caves until the earth swallowed up the Tyrant.
"For our clan, the Appeaser won control - and so on the fourth sunrise, the Appeaser has the clan bow in reverence to the Tyrant.
'"We will accept your ways,' the Appeaser says. ' We accept your terms, so long as you spare our lives.'
"So our clan lived on beneath the Tyrant, through the depradations and injustices and the violations that the Tyrant visited upon our clan with abandon. We buried more than we birthed in those long years, as years turned into decades turned into lifetimes.
"But even the Tyrant was unable to escape time, and the Tyrant was such an existence such that it could never raise children of its own. So one day, the Tyrant died, and although our clan was halved in number our clan survived, and while the Tyrant themselves died we still carry whatever scraps of knowledge and power the Tyrant gave to us.
"Now, uncountable eons later, our clan lives to tell this story, while even the bones of the Tyrant have been swallowed by the Earth and crumbled into so much dust in the wind."
"That is the story passed down from the first generation to the seventh generation," you finish, breaking out of your rapturous tone. "Perhaps we will be unable to resist the predations of the Tyrant, but so long as we survive the Tyrant's gifts will be ours, and in time even the Tyrant will pass."
Ophelia sighs.
"Okay. Do what you need to do."
In light of recent events, this is rather unfortunate - in light of the historically minded among you, similarly. Note that Agueda is speaking in his own capacity as a Colonist who has integrated extremely successfully personally and as a member of a deeply integrated colony - his views and his stories are by no means universal.
You may want to stick a pin in this thought.
You may want to stick a pin in this thought.
Learning
Special Tooling
DC: 25. Roll: 23 + 2 + 0.2
Piety
At the Edges
DC:???. Roll: 16 + 1.9 + 1 = 18.9
"A bust," Tekla says, knees dirty and hands stuffed into his pockets. "Couldn't find anything."
"Mm. Found nothing, or was unable to find conclusions?" you ask.
"Found nothing. Whatever this is, this is pretty far outside the Compact wheelhouse," Tekla angrily mutters. "And there is something - it's just not the usual unusual stuff."
"That…" Cormag says, hesitantly. "We have asked the local spirits, and they said there was nothing there, right?"
"I believe so, yes," you nod.
"So we are dealing with something that is notably atypical, is spiritual in nature, and hides itself from other spirits, correct?" Cormag continues, hands cupped in prayer.
"That about sums it up," Tekla angrily huffs.
"I may have encountered something like this in my studies, but I'm not certain - however, I think there may be someone who knows something nearby. At least, I hope old Palmira's still around…"
Random Event Roll: 36
The smoke plumes on the horizon tell a story. They tell a story of a rogue army of young patriotic men reveling in the murder and destruction of the hated other for which they blame all woes.
You want to interrupt.
But you don't think you can.
In other news, some local baron has made a whole thing out of a hunt they're about to do - which is curious indeed.
Salaries and Wages Expense: 5 Budget
Facilitation Expense: 4 Budget
Mercenary Expense: 5 Budget.
Research Expense: 6 Budget
Net Loss: 20 Budget
Remaining Budget: 94 Budget
The evidence you have laid out is thus far damning in your mind.
You have Regent Coburn's illegal orders to collect taxes multiple times, stamped in his name. You have a visualization and a description of the land he was obligated to protect as part of his domains and his oath to the church, and how he desecrated it with imported labor in contravention to his obligation to denote and regulate immigration into his capacity as minister of State, especially immigration of the special category.
Category one violation: dereliction of his duties to his peers. Category two violation: dereliction of his duty to the Compact.
However, you still lacked evidence of connecting overexploitation to his personal decisions, despite the fact that in order to conceal these work camps from everyone else he had to have been aware that there were work camps violating local agreements on land use. Furthermore, you'd need some proof that this overexploitation was ongoing, rather than a mysterious paroxysm of violence. Without those pieces of proof, however, it would be trivially easy to spin the devastation caused by your foolish introduction of an army into the region to be your fault.
You also lacked hard proof of how they came here in the first place. Hopefully you'd be able to get some answers from what you were tracking down.
Unfortunately, you don't know if you can truly spin a violation of category three: dereliction of duty to vassals. You simply lack enough information to tell.
Cormag advises you to talk with old Palmira.
Kerrie is in agreement that the suspiciously large and ostentatious hunting party is worth checking out.
Ophelia is slightly concerned about how much money you have left.
You need the testimony of the spirits beforehand at some point, and you're not confident in the memories of spirits.
You may spend as much money as you have available. You would be well-advised to find some sources of revenue, before the economy realizes how badly the lumber supply in the region was propped up by all the illegal foresting camps.
You have three [Free] Action that may be spent in any category.
You can cooperate with your teammates to add +3 Base Stat to an action you are cooperating on.
You have four more months to register evidence before you have to start tangling with the new Registrar of Evidence.
Ophelia carries a bright red glow in her role as Ophelia-Oskaria.
Martial (Choose 1) {Ophelia-Oskaria Action}
[] [Martial] Hunting Party
Officially, one local baron is going hunting. Unofficially, there sure are a lot of people in that hunting party. You may as well meet up with them in person. DC: 20. Cost: 2 Budget.
Diplomacy (Choose 1) {Tekla Action}
[] [Diplomacy] Requesting Barony Meetings II
You laid the groundwork, time to see it through. DC: 25. Cost: 6 Budget.
[] [Diplomacy] The Merchant Elite
You don't know if the merchants are aware a market collapse is incoming, but you may as well give them a headsup. They might even pay you for it. DC: 25. Cost: 10 Budget.
[] [Diplomacy] The Cooperatives
On the other hand, if the cooperatives don't find out about the impending lumber supply implosion, they don't have the depth to survive. Truthfully, they probably won't have the depth to survive even with the warning - but maybe this can get you a little bit ahead of the curve. DC: 10. Cost: 0 Budget.
Intrigue (Choose 1) {Kerrie/Agueda Action}
[] [Intrigue] Hunting the Hunters
You want to find out much more about this "hunting party", and you are perfectly happy willing to find out without asking permission. DC: 25? Cost: 0 Budget.
Learning (Choose 1) {Tekla Action}
[] [Learning] Old Palmira
Cormag's mentioned talking to an old woman he calls Old Palmira, who might be able to help you narrow down whatever weird spiritual entities you've caught sight of. DC: 20. Cost: 0 Budget.
[] [Learning] Illusive Gear
It's still probably not safe to show your face - or, well, your body in public. Ditto for Cormag, who has it worse right now. DC: 15. Cost: 2 Budget.
[] [Learning] Trinkets
Your budget is running dangerously low. Perhaps it is time to offload some things. DC: 15. Cost: 0 Budget.
Stewardship (Choose 1) {Ophelia-Oskaria Action}
[] [Stewardship] Registration of Updated Data
You have compiled some more reports, and you want this in public record earlier rather than later. DC: 20. Cost: 1 Budget.
[] [Stewardship] Temporary Labor
If you're hard up on work you could find some odd jobs that levy your crew's vast talents to make some quick money… DC: 20. Cost: 0 Budget.
Piety (Choose 1) {Ophelia-Oskaria Action}
[] [Piety] Requesting Spiritual Testimony
You need testimony of the before times, and hopefully the nature spirits have someone calmed down and might be willing to provide it. DC: 25. Cost: 10 Budget.
[] [Piety] At the Edges II
On the other hand, Tekla feels like he might be able to just find whatever it is is out there by brute force, now that he has a better idea of the problem. DC: 25??? Cost: 2 Budget.