CASE: BREWING SUSPICION CLOSED
- Location
- Somewhere over the rainbow
Martial:
Knock Knock:
DC: 25. Roll: 17 + 1 + 2 + 2 + 8.8 = 30.8
Intrigue:
Chasing the Count
DC: 26 Roll: 22 + 3 + 2 + 3.1 = 30.1
Learning:
Sympathetic Resonance:
DC: 25. Roll: 20 + 3.8 = 23.8
Piety:
Justice, Unerring and Unflagging
DC: 26. Roll: 20 + 10.0 = 30.0*
Random Event Roll: 33
The Capture of the Count
The night sky is pouring rain when the Yarognev Company caves in the door of the tavern. Behind the first mercenaries are Agueda and his squad, under the rain guard of Cormag's robes. The tavernkeeper looks up, sighs, and starts pouring out glasses.
"If you're looking for the Count, he's headed for the border. He'll pass through the town of Yarmouth on the way there to stop at a safehouse, at least until the rain stops and their group can move through again," he diffidently said. "The safe house is a farmhouse on the western outskirts, the one with the red paint."
"I'm glad we could come to an understanding," you say, depositing a good sum of money for his trouble. He simply nods, defeated.
Outside, Ser Tekla attempts to get a resonance between a doll and the Count, but cannot get it to point consistently in any direction - but that's alright. You didn't expect everything to work, after all, and this might be worth looking into later, when you had more time than you did. While you're still under the warm and dry roof, you offer a prayer to Justice.
Immediately, you feel energy flooding through you, and from the shocked faces around you you're not the only one being suffused by the power.
That was as clear a sign as you were going to get, so it was time to go.
Through the driving rain, your team marches. Though your team is soaked in mud up to their ankles and you're barely keeping the mud intact where you step, your team marches. The rains pour down through the whole night, and into the morning, and still you march, keeping time like you were marching in the most ideal weather possible.
By noon, the torrent lets up, from a pounding driving rain that drowned out all else to a mere downpour, and your team, soaked, crawls into town. Inexorably, your feet are drawn to the farmhouse that the tavernkeeper said was a safehouse, and when one of the flickering lights notices your approach, the door swings wide open.
The woman guarding the farmhouse, clutching her musket, simply lets you through. Instinctively, you categorized the musket as unusually pricey for the area, concluding that she likely runs some other business - before you wrly smirk and realize you're intruding on her other business.
Regardless, despite a sensation within your breast telling you that you're close to your destination, you decide to make sure. You signal the Ainsworth Company to go around, while you have the Yarognev Company in the front. Your team breaches in - and a red flash of steel streaks out.
The movement is abruptly sent vertical by Yakob's sweep of his spear. The red blur reaches the apex in an instant. The swordswoman slams back into the ground, knocking the Ainsworth Company flat. The powder of the hand dragons scatters into the mud.
A dagger suddenly hits the ground beneath her. Ice springs into existence around it, freezing her feet to the ground. Her arms clatter as she slams her sword against them, but then a second dagger joins the first, ice spreading just as quickly as she can destroy them. She looks up, sees the Yarognev team's muskets at long range and the Ainsworth Company's hand dragons at short range, and quietly raises her hands.
The rest of the Count's conspirators, suitably cowed, come quietly.
Diplomacy
The Royal Faction
DC: 20. Roll: 17 + 2 + 1.2 = 20.2
Carefully, you have Cormag double check that there's no problem among the Royalist Faction - no sudden upwelling of support from their faction at the worst possible time, and all that. He reports back: no problem, the Royalists are committed to the takedown of the conspiracy.
You hope that it's enough.
Stewardship
A Fair Trial
DC: 15. Roll: 22 + 2 + 7.4 = 31.4
The trial is the very image of fairness, backed by all the power of the Sejm and the King and the onlooking spirits. Naturally, this means you smash the conspiracy flat.
Your charge is nothing less than the complete breach in contract of the Governor General's office - that the city be governed well, in accordance with the city's charter, and respecting the obligations that the King levied on the Governor General. Your proof is in the testimony of the merchants, since the guildmasters had been defanged and systematically removed or replaced with Port Authority puppets. You corroborate your evidence of fraudulently collecting taxes on the same merchants repeatedly with their internal documents from the past year, and the documents from your financial office. The previous court rulings are paraded out, proving duplicity and deception. Finally, you point to the recent escape from the jail as the ultimate sign of guilt - would an innocent person try to run away, so close to the trial?
With that, the Sejm reluctantly gives way, and even the noble faction that might want to keep the Royalists in check feel no need to protect a clearly doomed group of provincial rabble, as one put it.
The conspirators attempted to mount a few defenses - that all of what the prosecution was lies on the say-so of non-nobles, that this was unjust, that justice needed to take longer than this - but their arguments fell flat, and with just a little counterpush they collapsed completely.
The Sejm agreed to convict, and strip the Conspirators of their titles, wealth, and lands. The land would thus be temporarily managed by the Crown, while the Sejm figured out what to do with...all of that.
Funny thing about "temporary". When every meeting got stuck, temporary could last a long time.
And just like that, the Gorlin Chai Ring was brought to its knees, and the money from their coffers flowed back to the Crown.
Piety
Justice, Unerring and Unflagging
DC: 26. Roll: 20 + 10.0
CRITICAL BONUS: TITLE: THE JUST
Outside the courtroom, you see a faint mirage of a tilted scale, and realize that Justice has decided to personally speak with you.
Achievement Get: Swift Justice. For completing within one year, +1 Shiny.
Achievement Get: The Spirit Talker: Successfully convene with every group of spirit. +1 Piety, party-wide.
Achievement Locked: Thorough: Defeat All Enemies.
Achievement Locked: The Ministry Funds Itself: Through the course of normal operations, earn more money than you spend.
Achievement Locked: In The Light: Do not use evidence acquired with less-legal methods.
[] [Interlude] The Rotting Crown
The Crown is ill. The great power once contained within the King's brow is fading fast, and some illness or another afflicts him. And still... there is one last great task that he can take up.
[] [Interlude] Sheathed Blade, Sheathed Spite
In all things, there are winners and losers. In some senses, his heritage lost the battle - and so he stands here, holding a blade that he was never allowed to not wield.
Knock Knock:
DC: 25. Roll: 17 + 1 + 2 + 2 + 8.8 = 30.8
Intrigue:
Chasing the Count
DC: 26 Roll: 22 + 3 + 2 + 3.1 = 30.1
Learning:
Sympathetic Resonance:
DC: 25. Roll: 20 + 3.8 = 23.8
Piety:
Justice, Unerring and Unflagging
DC: 26. Roll: 20 + 10.0 = 30.0*
Random Event Roll: 33
The Capture of the Count
The night sky is pouring rain when the Yarognev Company caves in the door of the tavern. Behind the first mercenaries are Agueda and his squad, under the rain guard of Cormag's robes. The tavernkeeper looks up, sighs, and starts pouring out glasses.
"If you're looking for the Count, he's headed for the border. He'll pass through the town of Yarmouth on the way there to stop at a safehouse, at least until the rain stops and their group can move through again," he diffidently said. "The safe house is a farmhouse on the western outskirts, the one with the red paint."
"I'm glad we could come to an understanding," you say, depositing a good sum of money for his trouble. He simply nods, defeated.
Outside, Ser Tekla attempts to get a resonance between a doll and the Count, but cannot get it to point consistently in any direction - but that's alright. You didn't expect everything to work, after all, and this might be worth looking into later, when you had more time than you did. While you're still under the warm and dry roof, you offer a prayer to Justice.
Immediately, you feel energy flooding through you, and from the shocked faces around you you're not the only one being suffused by the power.
That was as clear a sign as you were going to get, so it was time to go.
Through the driving rain, your team marches. Though your team is soaked in mud up to their ankles and you're barely keeping the mud intact where you step, your team marches. The rains pour down through the whole night, and into the morning, and still you march, keeping time like you were marching in the most ideal weather possible.
By noon, the torrent lets up, from a pounding driving rain that drowned out all else to a mere downpour, and your team, soaked, crawls into town. Inexorably, your feet are drawn to the farmhouse that the tavernkeeper said was a safehouse, and when one of the flickering lights notices your approach, the door swings wide open.
The woman guarding the farmhouse, clutching her musket, simply lets you through. Instinctively, you categorized the musket as unusually pricey for the area, concluding that she likely runs some other business - before you wrly smirk and realize you're intruding on her other business.
Regardless, despite a sensation within your breast telling you that you're close to your destination, you decide to make sure. You signal the Ainsworth Company to go around, while you have the Yarognev Company in the front. Your team breaches in - and a red flash of steel streaks out.
The movement is abruptly sent vertical by Yakob's sweep of his spear. The red blur reaches the apex in an instant. The swordswoman slams back into the ground, knocking the Ainsworth Company flat. The powder of the hand dragons scatters into the mud.
A dagger suddenly hits the ground beneath her. Ice springs into existence around it, freezing her feet to the ground. Her arms clatter as she slams her sword against them, but then a second dagger joins the first, ice spreading just as quickly as she can destroy them. She looks up, sees the Yarognev team's muskets at long range and the Ainsworth Company's hand dragons at short range, and quietly raises her hands.
The rest of the Count's conspirators, suitably cowed, come quietly.
Diplomacy
The Royal Faction
DC: 20. Roll: 17 + 2 + 1.2 = 20.2
Carefully, you have Cormag double check that there's no problem among the Royalist Faction - no sudden upwelling of support from their faction at the worst possible time, and all that. He reports back: no problem, the Royalists are committed to the takedown of the conspiracy.
You hope that it's enough.
Stewardship
A Fair Trial
DC: 15. Roll: 22 + 2 + 7.4 = 31.4
The trial is the very image of fairness, backed by all the power of the Sejm and the King and the onlooking spirits. Naturally, this means you smash the conspiracy flat.
Your charge is nothing less than the complete breach in contract of the Governor General's office - that the city be governed well, in accordance with the city's charter, and respecting the obligations that the King levied on the Governor General. Your proof is in the testimony of the merchants, since the guildmasters had been defanged and systematically removed or replaced with Port Authority puppets. You corroborate your evidence of fraudulently collecting taxes on the same merchants repeatedly with their internal documents from the past year, and the documents from your financial office. The previous court rulings are paraded out, proving duplicity and deception. Finally, you point to the recent escape from the jail as the ultimate sign of guilt - would an innocent person try to run away, so close to the trial?
With that, the Sejm reluctantly gives way, and even the noble faction that might want to keep the Royalists in check feel no need to protect a clearly doomed group of provincial rabble, as one put it.
The conspirators attempted to mount a few defenses - that all of what the prosecution was lies on the say-so of non-nobles, that this was unjust, that justice needed to take longer than this - but their arguments fell flat, and with just a little counterpush they collapsed completely.
The Sejm agreed to convict, and strip the Conspirators of their titles, wealth, and lands. The land would thus be temporarily managed by the Crown, while the Sejm figured out what to do with...all of that.
Funny thing about "temporary". When every meeting got stuck, temporary could last a long time.
And just like that, the Gorlin Chai Ring was brought to its knees, and the money from their coffers flowed back to the Crown.
Piety
Justice, Unerring and Unflagging
DC: 26. Roll: 20 + 10.0
CRITICAL BONUS: TITLE: THE JUST
Outside the courtroom, you see a faint mirage of a tilted scale, and realize that Justice has decided to personally speak with you.
There must be a balance in all things.
There must be a balance in all things, you agree.
A good deed is repaid in kind, and an upraised fist likewise.
A good deed is repaid in kind, and an upraised fist likewise.
When there is an imbalance, the world will seek to correct it.
When there is an imbalance, the world will seek to correct it.
Thus the world now balances the scales.
The scale in front of you tips even, and then you understand more than you feel the mark of the spirit imprinting you with your own justice.
CASE:
BREWING SUSPICION
RESOLVED
BREWING SUSPICION
RESOLVED
Achievement Get: Swift Justice. For completing within one year, +1 Shiny.
Achievement Get: The Spirit Talker: Successfully convene with every group of spirit. +1 Piety, party-wide.
Achievement Locked: Thorough: Defeat All Enemies.
Achievement Locked: The Ministry Funds Itself: Through the course of normal operations, earn more money than you spend.
Achievement Locked: In The Light: Do not use evidence acquired with less-legal methods.
[] [Interlude] The Rotting Crown
The Crown is ill. The great power once contained within the King's brow is fading fast, and some illness or another afflicts him. And still... there is one last great task that he can take up.
[] [Interlude] Sheathed Blade, Sheathed Spite
In all things, there are winners and losers. In some senses, his heritage lost the battle - and so he stands here, holding a blade that he was never allowed to not wield.
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