Learning
Mapping Enemy Forces
DC: 15.Roll: 21 + 5.4 = 26.4
To proclaim that you're going to finding out exactly where the enemy army is decamped would be suicidal, and perhaps it would be easy for the other groups to wonder what your giant contraption is to do.
Fortunately, you're the tax group, and this is a fairly simple affair taking a look in a wide sweep.
The fact that you do this from two different angles, which gives you a map of metal concentrations when overlaid, is naturally elided.
Naturally, you fail to mention that this tells you where the stockpiles of armor, gun, cannon, and therefore, the powder must be kept.
Intrigue
Sabotage
DC: 28. Roll: 22 + 3 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 2.7 = 30.7
So naturally, you must bring some resources in to...ruin said supplies. You have no intention of ruining their rations of medical supplies or food supplies - the only result of that would be further impositions on the province.
But that still leaves one of the most important targets: the powder.
In theory, ruining powder would be simple - merely wetting it would make the powder nearly unusable.
Provided, of course, you could smuggle the water in - and in there is the rub.
It is hard, it is difficult, and you are, unmodestly, an expert in infiltration, so of course you pull it off.
Still, damn it, carrying water and pots over that sort of distance left all sorts of cricks in your back.
Cost: 2 Budget.
Diplomacy
Diplomatic Justifications
DC: 27. Roll: 20 + 3 + 1 + 0.9 + 3 (Casus Belli) = 27.9.
Stewardship
Finding a Cause
DC: 25. Roll: 23 + 1 + 9.8 = 37.8.
Martial
With a Bang
DC: 28 - 3 (Sabotage) - 5 (Compact Intervention) = 20. Roll: 18 + 0.4 + 3 + 4.6 + 1 + 1.7 + 5 (Compact Intervention) + 2 (Allied forces) = 35.7.
Random Event Roll: 87
The Long Arm of Divine Law
You begin immediately searching for a valid reason to kick these visiting nobles off the property, so to speak, and to recruit the nobles into it. You float the ideas occasionally, never fully committing but never really backing down - but the nobles refuse to bite on insults to their pride, insults to the cities' pride, an armed show of force to force these merchants to pay tolls, and the list goes on.
Frustrated, you dive back into your collection of knowledge for cases of war - you cite the wars levied against the Count Marion, against Duke Levan, against the Baron Strovich, against even the City of Alrutha.
No takers.
So about two weeks and a fine set of eight candles in, you offer your prayers to the spirit of Oskaria, to the spirit of Justice, to the spirit of Order -
LINK FORGED
You are before a featureless void, as an errant wind blows out the candle and the window is vanished.
"The Gathering has made a decision," you hear, and don't hear, from everywhere and nowhere, "and it appears as though you are the best vessel to deliver them on short notice," it proclaims. "We have decided that these usurpers must be made to leave, and the oathbreakers punished accordingly."
"Rouse your soldiers and all those who would follow our decree, and one night from tonight you will launch an attack upon the center of the usurpers camp," Order demands. "When you speak tomorrow, you will speak with the weight of the Compact behind you."
So you do, and although the nobles react to you with exasperation after weeks of subtle attempts when you speak your voice is carried and met with blanched faces and hurried mobilizations. You move to the militia, who were simply waiting for an excuse - and granted one with the full authority of the Compact to destroy the hated usurpers.
As night descends, torches alight in the enemy's camp and your own, resting on a hill as the usurper camp's leaders launch into a sermon of the righteousness of their cause.
Order murmurs in your ear, demanding that you wield the sword. You mount the weapon upon your back, the leaders of the militia and your own party backing away from the crimson light. It eagerly drinks of your power as you feed it your essence and mold the energies to your will. You feel the rigid touch of Order correct your aim and your spellwork, your weak and inefficient screamer artillery spell turned into a nightmarishly refined and terrifying shot, suspended only by the knowledge that the time is not yet right.
Through a soft sensation tickling your ears, you hear the last words of the usurpers' ringleaders:
"If our cause is not just, may the Compact strike us down where we stand!"
Order signals you.
The angry red spell tears a hole through the heavens, the sound of an angry banshee thirsting for blood, a comet of vengeance descending upon the earth.
Just as promised, the Compact did indeed strike down the ringleaders where they stood.
Morale in the usurper camp breaks, all scrambling to secure whatever they could before the Compact came for the rest of them.
So the war ends, with only a single shot fired.
All that remains is the cleanup.
+4 Budget.
Piety
The Oskaria Realignment
DC: 26. Roll: 23 + 1 + 9.8
When you wake up the next morning, a girl demands to speak with you. A white hood frames black hair and blood-red eyes and an indescribable presence that seems to impose its own obligation weighs on you heavily - emanating from the ruby gem hanging from her necklace.
Ah. Likely to be a spiritual problem.
You quickly slip into the mannerisms of Agueda the Just in your introduction first, because that is your spiritual credential - and she blithely dismisses it.
For she is Ophelia, a Vessel for Oskaria, and she demands to work with Agueda the Assessor for the Finance Ministry of Oskaria.
You switch approach and glance at your teammates. Kerrie is softly smiling, Tekla is brightly smiling with a thumb sticking up, and Cormag is nodding his head while pushing up his glasses. You nod as well, because you like this approach and you could always use another hand. Out loud, you tell her that the hiring process would likely have to be formally accepted by Finance Minister Vivien, but you feel like she would happily approve, and so in lieu of that you would be happy to welcome her as a member of the Ministry.
Gravely, she nods in approval. Stiffly, she walks around, the spiritual weight diminishing with every step she takes behind a building. You feel like maybe offending your boss isn't the best way to start a new job - but then you hear retching sounds, and decide that discretion is the entirety of manners.
When she emerges from the alleyway, you note the pallor of her skin, the residue on her cloak, how her eyes were now a golden-brown, and the white, featureless stone hanging from her neck.
You glance at Cormag and decide to let him take the question on both of your minds: was this the first time she channeled a spirit?
Shakily, she nodded.
Figures, you both say. She'll get used to it, Cormag reassures her.
And then you nod, and it's off to the rest of the day's activities.
Spoils of War: 4 Budget.
Cost of Goods and Services Sold: 4 Budget.
Negotiations Expense: 2 Budget.
Supplies Expense: 2 Budget.
Net Loss: 4 Budget.
Payment of Accounts Receivable: 10 Budget.
Remaining Budget: 56 Budget.
Accounts Receivable: 31 Budget.
Hm. It's very late so I doubt I'll be able to get a list of options up, plus I haven't statted out Ophelia yet, plus I've been meaning to...reset the voting times, so to speak. So!
Let's have an Interlude vote.
[] The Inevitability of History
History is never set in stone - though even stone can be reshaped through the will of sufficiently talented, well-placed, and well-timed individuals. And right here, right now, this genius is about to make some history.
[] When Destiny Calls
Many pray to the spirits so that they may become more then they are. Sometimes, those wishes are granted - in exchange for an equally heavy burden. So what must be granted, then, if the burden is an entire nation?
